Chapter 84: The Enigma (III)

Many old friends, upon meeting again, would exchange pleasantries, but we did not; just as in the old days, no matter how much she changed, to me she was still that young girl from the countryside, only now the innocence had been replaced by maturity.

She spoke in the same manner as always, opening with, "You lot, lugging all those bags, sneaking about—clearly up to no good. Out with it, where are you going?"

Seeing her like this, I feared we might not make it to Scholar's Village after all. I hurried to help her with her things. "Nothing, nothing, who would have guessed Miss Yuan would show up? Come on, let's go inside."

"Wait, there's another friend." With that, she opened the rear car door. Out stepped a man in his fifties, wearing a gray trench coat. After getting out, he addressed me in somewhat unpolished Mandarin, "Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Yuan Xiaobai pulled the man over, smiling. I glanced at Cha Wenbin—his face was nearly green. I wondered, could it be that this girl found herself such an older man?

"Let me introduce you," she said. "This is my professor from Stanford University in the United States, Mr. Byron. He's a Chinese-American, originally from Taizhou, Jiangsu—so we're fellow townsfolk. He's a renowned scholar of Chinese culture in America, and this time he's come with me mainly to visit relatives. He loves the landscapes of Jiangnan, so I brought him along."

He extended his hand graciously, "You can call me Gu Qinghe. Since I'm back in China, it's better to use my Chinese name."

He truly had an air of elegance; the scholarly aura between his brows made me feel like a country bumpkin. I had dropped out after junior high, while he was a professor at an American university. I wished I could rush inside and scrub the garlic smell from my hands before greeting him.

"Hey, Xiaoyi, what are you doing? Professor Gu is greeting you. Why are you standing there, dazed?"

"Ah..." As I tried to reach out, Cha Wenbin spoke, "The sound is clear and harmonious, Professor Gu. An excellent name."

Gu Qinghe reacted as if he'd found a treasure, rushing toward Cha Wenbin and leaving me awkwardly hanging, my hand suspended mid-air, unsure whether to withdraw or not—utterly embarrassed.

"You know the Songs of Chu?" he asked.

Yuan Xiaobai followed, saying to Gu Qinghe, "He's the Cha Wenbin I told you about—a disciple of Daoism, always pretending to be serious."

"Wonderful, truly wonderful!" He examined Cha Wenbin up and down as if discovering a new continent.

Cha Wenbin continued, unfazed, "Chinese naming traditions emphasize the Book of Songs for women, the Songs of Chu for men, Analects for the literate, and the Book of Changes for the martial. Professor Gu's name, 'Qinghe,' likely derives from the Nine Words of Sorrow in the Songs of Chu, implying clarity and harmony."

"Excellent, excellent. Chinese culture is indeed profound. A twenty-year-old youth who knows so much—makes my research in America seem like viewing the sky from the bottom of a well. I should bring my research to China; everyone here is my teacher."

Cha Wenbin clasped his hands in a respectful salute, "I am merely showing off my meager knowledge before Professor Gu."

"No, no, don't call me professor—just call me Old Gu. So, are you heading somewhere?"

Cha Wenbin replied politely, "Just a small matter, but since we have guests, let's postpone."

"Wait," the Fatty interjected, "Cha, you’d better think carefully. Today’s already the sixth day of the new year. According to our trade’s rules, work starts on the eighth, with firecrackers to open the doors. Once those people arrive, do you think we’ll be able to get in?"

Fatty had a point. If we didn’t act now, we might lose our chance entirely, or the risks would multiply.

"How about this, Xiaobai? You and Professor Gu stay at my place tonight—we’ll be back at dawn."

"What exactly are you up to?" she asked.

"We have some business to take care of."

Yuan Xiaobai tossed her things to the ground, "Fine, then take me along. I used to join you in the northeast all the time."

"No," Cha Wenbin refused firmly.

"Alright, you’re always so principled. Professor Gu, let’s go," she said, turning and heading for the car.

I hurried to pull her back, "Hey, Miss, what are you doing? You’ve finally come home—what’s the point in this?"

I was well acquainted with her sharp tongue. "If you won’t take me, you’re not treating me as a friend. If I’m not your friend, what’s the point in staying?"

"Come on, it’s nothing good—we’re going in the dark, and it’s dangerous. Why are you still so fiery? You used to be much more docile in the northeast."

"Xiaobai, listen to us, we’ll be back in the morning. Truly, it’s not suitable for women," I said. I saw Fatty whisper something in her ear, and Yuan Xiaobai’s face turned red and then pale. She spun around and said to me, "Go on then, the sooner you go, the sooner you return!" She gave Cha Wenbin a particularly fierce look.

Fatty then grinned ingratiatingly at Yuan Xiaobai, "How about this—lend me the car tonight. I need to put on a show."

"Take it. Go as far as you can, and which girl would be so blind!"

After explaining to my father, Yuan Xiaobai and Old Gu stayed at my house, while the three of us headed straight to Scholar's Village. Now we had a car, no more borrowing a three-wheeled cart.

On the road, I asked Fatty, "What did you say to her?"

"Haha, I told her there’s a matchmaker tonight arranging a blind date for Cha. All these bags are gifts for his future mother-in-law..."

I glanced in the rearview mirror at Cha Wenbin sitting in the back. His eyes looked murderous. I seized the chance to stoke the fire, "Fatty, you’re too wicked, hahaha!"

Then suddenly, two big hands squeezed Fatty’s neck, and after that our car sped wildly in an S-curve...

At the entrance to the village, it was 12:05—utterly silent. Occasionally, a few scraps of yellow paper money drifted across the road, thrown along the way during the old clan leader’s funeral the day before. Some say one should avoid walking these roads at night, lest you encounter something unsavory out collecting money. But we weren’t afraid—after all, we had Cha.

Across the river, the houses’ lights were already out. Yesterday, a dog barked toward the river a few times. Fatty stood and shook himself, and the dog vanished like a rocket, knowing that this unlucky star had arrived.

The entrance was unchanged from yesterday. We opened the door and strode in as if it were our own courtyard. Lifting the floorboards, each of us with a bright mining lamp, we descended the iron ladder. We went down about twenty meters before reaching a platform, beneath which was another short ladder. On the platform, we could already hear the rushing water mixed with the "gurgling" sound of machinery.

"A pump—look, there are wires," Fatty pointed out. Following his gaze, I saw two wires, one red and one green, running along the ladder.

Cha Wenbin pointed to several dried but still clinging little shells on the stones of the platform, "The water used to reach here, but they pumped it out. Who knows how deep it is now?"

Behind us were bare rocks, damp with hanging moss, devoid of any coal residue. Locals called these rocks "Mali Guang"—meaning hard, smooth, and completely useless.

Descending the next set of stairs, less than ten meters, the first sensation upon touching down was cold. Even through rubber boots, I felt the water was much colder than outside, numbing my toes. I took a few steps—the ground was flat, without bumps, but covered in a layer of mud about ten centimeters thick, making walking rather difficult.

The mountain walls on either side were about half the width of a room, with no sign of human excavation. I never imagined such a world existed inside this mountain.

There was only one way forward. On the ground, a thick drainage pipe floated and sank with the water. Looking back, the pipe ran through a hole beneath the platform, exiting that way.

Fatty, half an expert, saw the purpose of the pipe and exclaimed, "Wow, big operation! Look at this drainage setup—even Master Qian in Xi’an wouldn’t manage it. The hole even has ventilation. These guys really invested."

I noticed Cha Wenbin was staring ahead, unmoving. "Wenbin, did you find something?"

He whispered, "Look ahead."

"Where?"

"There!" He shone his lamp at a spot about twenty meters away. The mist over the water was thick, a pale blur, not easy to see.

"What is it?"

He spoke softly, "Looks like someone floating."

A person—floating here?

The water flowed toward us. I could vaguely see something white bobbing up and down. I wanted to go over, but Cha Wenbin pulled me back. We waited quietly.

Time ticked by. After the span of a cigarette, I was already back on the stairs, because just a few seconds earlier, a corpse dressed in a white robe, back facing up, had drifted slowly past me. Stranger still, in the blink of an eye after it passed, it vanished!

At that moment, I stood in the water, three meters from the stone wall behind me. The corpse floated past my feet, as silent as a piece of wood, its hair mingling with water weeds, rising and sinking with the current—impossible to tell if it was male or female.

The remarkable thing was, less than two meters behind the first corpse, a second floated past, then a third, each keeping perfect distance, as if connected like bamboo rafts.

It’s not that I was cowardly—anyone would have reacted the same way at that moment...

And so I say:

Good night.