Chapter Eleven: Resolve
Chen Jin and Old Xu escorted Sheng Yao into the security office. It was the second time the three of them had sat face to face there. Unlike the interrogation atmosphere of the previous encounter, this time Sheng Yao sat on a wooden chair with a back, equal to Chen Jin and Old Xu.
Sheng Yao looked like one of those young men devastated by heartbreak, comical and aggravating, utterly different from the criminal or street thug that Chen Jin and Old Xu had imagined, nor did it seem like he was putting on an act—his misery was genuine.
For a moment, the two men didn’t know how to comfort this lovesick youth.
Chen Jin cleared his throat and began, “Young man… look at you, not bad-looking, tall, a university student from Jiaotong University, a great school, boundless prospects. You… well, to get into Jiaotong, you must be smart. Why would you stake out here to wait for a girl? Couldn’t you wait at her school gate? Or at her apartment entrance… uh… maybe not her home. School entrance isn’t great either… just, something more normal…”
Chen Jin racked his brains but couldn’t come up with a normal way to pursue someone.
Old Xu asked, “How did you meet her?”
“When you met her, why not just ask for her contact info? Make a good impression, that’s all you need,” Chen Jin immediately slapped his thigh.
Sheng Yao lowered his head, silent for a long time before responding, “I met her right here.”
Chen Jin and Old Xu were stunned.
Chen Jin remembered something from long ago, back when he was still in school. Once, during a break, a classmate told a dark joke: two sisters attended a funeral and met an attractive man there. After the funeral, the older sister killed the younger, thinking that holding another funeral would let her meet that man again.
Chen Jin hadn’t laughed at the time; some classmates did, but only because the joke-teller was so poor at delivery. The story never sounded like a joke—it was a horror story.
Now, as Chen Jin looked at Sheng Yao, he felt as if he were watching a horror story. For some reason, he thought of the strange “plopping” sounds from the women’s restroom and the constant flushes.
Old Xu was taken aback. “Last year, you saw her at the tomb-sweeping ceremony, and then you came early this year to wait for her?”
Chen Jin snapped back, and hearing Old Xu’s words, felt Sheng Yao had shifted from a horror story to a social news headline.
“That girl must have been scared,” Chen Jin said. “She didn’t call the police, so you’re lucky. Really, aren’t there pretty girls at your school?”
Sheng Yao remained silent. He knew the two men misunderstood. Any normal person would. Worse than falling in love at a cemetery would be falling in love at a cemetery and then meeting there for nearly ten days, breaking up in front of the staff.
Worse still…
Sheng Yao heard Bai Xiao’s voice in his ear, saying “mistake,” and saw the gray lump of flesh and the gray palm print on Bai Xiao’s hand.
He propped his hands on his thighs, hunched over, and buried his face in his palms.
Chen Jin and Old Xu exchanged looks. One went to pour Sheng Yao some water, the other continued to counsel him patiently.
Time passed, and the glass of warm water Chen Jin had given Sheng Yao had cooled. At the door, labored breathing was heard.
Chen Jin looked up.
Xiao Jin’s figure flashed past, rushing into the adjacent monitoring room.
Chen Jin hurried to the door. “Did you see her off properly?”
Sheng Yao, who had been lost in thought, stirred slightly.
Xiao Jin called in a hushed voice, “I couldn’t find her! I came back to check the surveillance!”
Sheng Yao’s body trembled and he abruptly stood.
Old Xu quickly urged, “Don’t get excited. Don’t keep bothering the girl. That’s not how you pursue someone.”
Chen Jin followed into the monitoring room, pressing, “What’s going on?”
Xiao Jin was buried in the monitors. “We just couldn’t find her! Xiao Wu and I searched for ages, but couldn’t find her in the Changshou cemetery area. We even checked the west gate, the parking lot, walked along the road for ten minutes, but she was nowhere to be seen…” He frowned. “No idea where she’s hiding.”
“Where’s Xiao Wu? Still searching?” Chen Jin asked.
Xiao Jin shook his head. “He’s at the back. I ran back here.”
Suddenly his tone changed. “Hey, here she is! Found her—ah, why is she running into the wasteland?”
The surveillance showed Changshou Garden’s west gate and the stretch of asphalt outside. A figure flashed by, face indistinct, but clearly leaving Changshou Garden, running straight out onto the road and out of camera range.
“Alright, let’s go look for her there,” Chen Jin said.
Sheng Yao looked utterly crushed by heartbreak; that girl likely felt no better, probably crying in the wasteland. Leaving her like this was too dangerous.
Xiao Jin bounced up. “I’ll go right now!”
“I’ll go with you.” Chen Jin said, then informed Old Xu at the security office door, “Leave the cemetery to you. Xiao Jin, Xiao Wu, and I will look for the girl.”
Old Xu nodded.
Chen Jin glanced at Sheng Yao behind Old Xu.
Old Xu turned too. “Young man, you should go home. Don’t bother the girl anymore. There aren’t many cars here; I’ll drive you to the bus station.”
Sheng Yao opened his mouth, mind flashing again to that glove-like lump of flesh, then slowly closed it.
“I’ll let them know,” Chen Jin said, pulling out his phone to contact his colleagues.
Sheng Yao suddenly said, “If you don’t find her…”
Chen Jin and Old Xu looked at him.
“If you don’t find her, just stop looking,” Sheng Yao said quietly, hands clenched into fists.
Chen Jin frowned.
“Her home is nearby, maybe she’s gone back already,” Sheng Yao added. “Just past that wasteland…”
Chen Jin was stunned.
Old Xu sighed, “So you know the girl lives in this area, but you still came here to wait? What’s going on in your head?”
Sheng Yao didn’t respond.
“Don’t do this again. Young people, sigh…” Old Xu lamented, “Come on, I’ll take you to the station. Where do you live? Downtown? Or nearby? Need to go to your school? If it’s Jiaotong…”
Sheng Yao cut him off, “I live downtown. I can get home by bus or subway.”
“I’ll drive you straight to the subway station,” Old Xu said.
Though the bus stop was far, it was walkable; the subway station was a twenty-minute drive.
---
Sheng Yao thanked Old Xu and obediently followed him out.
Old Xu dropped Sheng Yao at the subway station, and as Sheng Yao unfastened his seatbelt, he kept advising, “Young man, cheer up. Life is long. You’ll meet someone better. Don’t hang yourself on one tree.”
Sheng Yao’s hand rested on the door handle. With a click, the door opened, but he didn’t get out immediately.
“Someone better… will I really meet someone better?” Sheng Yao looked out the window.
Outside, the subway station was bustling. Men and women, young and old… countless chances for encounters. Surely these meetings are more proper than those at a cemetery, and perhaps among them, one might meet the right person?
But…
Sheng Yao’s heart thumped uncontrollably.
…
“Life is long…”
“A-Yao, you’re only twenty-seven.”
“At thirty, you’re still a promising young man, so… plenty of choices.”
“I have a colleague, just two years younger than you, used to be busy with work, now promoted and more relaxed. Want to meet her? She’s pretty, good personality.”
“Remember the big guy from before? Your mother’s colleague. At his age, divorced his wife and found someone three years older than himself. His ex-wife met someone new last year and got married.”
“You’ll meet someone better…”
…
In the dark television room, chaotic voices intertwined, like many people speaking at once, each with their own words, but on listening closely, all were about the same theme.
On screen, Sheng Yao got out of the car and remembered to bid Old Xu goodbye.
His voice was much clearer and louder than those indistinct voices, which faded in and out like overheard conversations from passing strangers.
There were always people waiting with Sheng Yao at the station, on the train. But in the television room, only the doctor sat quietly on the sofa.
Tap tap tap tap tap…
The doctor’s five fingers drummed across the sofa armrest. The faces painted on his fingernails wept or raged, but made no sound. His other hand rested on crossed knees, the nail pressed against his filthy white coat, and the thumb alone showed a mysterious, sly smile—the little figure's eyes slanted, as if watching the doctor, or trying to peer at the awkward angle of the TV screen.
On screen, Sheng Yao hung his head, eyes unfocused, lost in thought or perhaps thinking deeply.
…
Only when the train reached the terminal and staff came to remind him did Sheng Yao snap out of it.
The voices in his ears faded, as if drifting away with the departing crowd.
Sheng Yao checked the station name and realized he’d missed his stop.
He sat on the waiting bench, waiting for a train going the opposite direction.
As he sat, the voices returned.
They seemed to come from passengers queued ahead for the train.
He could only see their backs.
Again, Sheng Yao missed his stop.
He rode back and forth on the subway line three times before he finally felt more alert.
By the time he got home, the glowing orb overhead was the moon, not the sun.
Sheng Yao seemed a little more composed, at least lifting his head.
He took out his keys to open the door, glimpsed the entrance to Aunt Qin’s apartment next door, and remembered meeting her earlier that day—he’d worriedly remarked to Bai Xiao that Aunt Qin seemed to have suffered a serious illness.
The door opened—a room of darkness and silence.
Light dispelled the shadows, the sound of the shoe cabinet broke the quiet.
Sheng Yao saw the blue velvet slippers in the cabinet, his fingers paused.
Silence returned.
There were only three pairs of slippers: the blue pair, an unopened plastic pair, and his own plastic slippers. He couldn’t ignore the blue ones.
He forced himself to think of something else.
Like…
Why there were only three pairs of slippers in the cabinet. Where were the others? Where were his parents’ shoes?
He stayed bent, motionless, holding the slippers.
He stared into the shadowy cabinet, thinking of his grandparents’ gravestones, and the thick black names inscribed there…
He suddenly straightened, darkness swimming in his vision, the living room sofa blurring.
He staggered, slowly sat on the sofa.
Beside him, emptiness—no graceful figure.
Last night, they’d chatted by candlelight, so happy. Nothing hinted at Bai Xiao…
Sheng Yao exhaled heavily, leaning his neck back against the sofa.
Don’t think about it… Don’t think…
His gaze settled on the snowy ceiling and the energy-saving light overhead.
He stared at the simple white round lamp for a long time, confusion growing.
He remembered the living room once had a crystal chandelier, chosen by his mother when they bought the apartment, luxurious for its time, but impractical, and as he grew up, it seemed too old-fashioned.
---
The white round lamp before him…
Perhaps he’d stared too long—his vision shrouded in a gauzy darkness.
He shook his head, went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water.
The kitchen counter had a new rice cooker—not the old cream-colored one that never quite became white; the microwave was now multifunctional; a small blender, dust-covered, clearly unused for a long time.
His gaze followed the counter and stopped at the tightly closed master bedroom door.
Sheng Yao gripped the glass.
He didn’t feel the home he’d lived in for nearly twenty years was unfamiliar, but it had undoubtedly changed.
Did his parents replace so many things after he went to college?
They…
He set the glass down, but not securely—the glass tipped and rolled inward.
He didn’t notice, heading straight for the master bedroom, hand on the doorknob.
This time, no one stopped him.
Click.
The door opened.
Click.
The light came on.
Brightness flooded in.
Sheng Yao raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare.
For an instant, he seemed to see the shadowless lamp of an operating room, and a pair of deep blue eyes. The illusion was replaced by the glowing red neon sign—“Monster Clinic.” As if faulty, the neon flickered on and off.
He saw the master bedroom clearly.
The double bed was the same, sheets and pillowcases seemed new… no, he recognized the set. Not the old big floral pattern, but the small flowers were familiar.
Wooden wardrobe, plastic storage boxes, old-fashioned vanity, photos and frames on the table, TV, dusty wine bottles…
Sheng Yao exhaled.
He sat on the familiar bed, lay down stiffly.
The overhead light had changed, like the living room—an energy-saving lamp.
This time, he felt no confusion.
He turned his head to his mother’s vanity.
The vanity had a mirror, but it was covered with cloth. In contrast, the wall-mounted TV was exposed, lacking the vulgar lace-trimmed pink cover…
Just as he thought that, something felt wrong.
The TV screen…
He sat up abruptly, ran to the living room, pale, staring at the big TV.
A 55-inch smart TV, much bigger than the bedroom one.
Where was the old cathode TV?
He remembered the living room had a 30-inch cathode TV. When they bought the new one, the old was moved to the bedroom vanity.
Crash!
Startled, he turned to see the kitchen floor—an intact glass base amidst scattered shards, water streaking across the counter.
He hesitated, then stepped into the kitchen to clean up.
His finger was cut by glass, and a drop of blood welled up.
The bright red was like the neon tube, or like Bai Xiao in the sunset.
Clatter.
He tossed the glass shards into the trash.
Garbage should be thrown away, old appliances can be replaced.
But… what about people?
Does it end like this?
Sheng Yao’s mind conjured Bai Xiao’s sorrowful smile, the cold portrait on the gravestone.
He straightened, ran out of the house like the wind.
The door closed, its echo reverberating in the quiet home.
In the dim old photo in the master bedroom, a young man in a graduation cap affectionately draped his arms around a middle-aged couple, all three beaming with wide, radiant smiles.
…
The TV screen froze, showing the yellowed photo and Sheng Yao’s resolute face in the kitchen. Separated by distance, the two faces pressed together in the frame, an odd harmony.
The doctor let out a delighted laugh, his fingernails clamorous, even the cries and sobs seemed filled with joy.
The dark room brightened a little, as if in response.