Having delivered the harsh words and played the cool hero, if Zhang Mingsheng’s life were a movie, the rousing soundtrack should be kicking in by now. We ought to be speeding down the highway in a state of high-fevered excitement with the camera pulling back from a close-up to capture the shimmering lights of all Hong Kong. A long transition to welcome the dark undercurrents to come.
Unfortunately, life is not a movie. The three of us got into the car in silence. A glance at my watch told me we had been at the old residence for less than two hours and we hadn’t managed to eat a single bite of food. If everyone’s visits to their relatives were this fleeting, it will certainly save a lot of trouble during the holidays.
It was Zhang Mingsheng’s turn to drive. I sat in the passenger seat. We were both speechless with one staring straight ahead and the other out the side window. Ah Shan had long since grown accustomed to scenes like this. Or rather, compared to Ah Hai, who had to gradually adjust to the job and the people around him, Ah Shan possessed a natural talent for ignoring others.
He didn’t care, he wasn’t moved, and he also wasn’t concerned.
I I looked at him in the rearview mirror and saw him clutching his phone with his fingers tapping the keys in a series of muffled click-clack-clacks. There was no need to guess, he was texting Ah Hai, though what he was writing remained a mystery.
In private, A-Shan used a simple button-operated phone. Its only entertainment features were a color version of Snake and Tetris, there might have been other games, but no one had ever bothered to check. To a 21st-century kid like Zhang Xiaoyuan, who had been spoiled by his father since birth, the least interesting thing in the house was Keke’s digital pet, followed closely by Ah Shan’s brick phone.
Keke, however, had once taken a liking to this little brick.
Even now, on the back of the phone in Ah Shan’s hand, there were still traces of Keke’s handiwork: several puffed, brightly colored cartoon stickers of hooded rabbits and mouthless cats, even decorated with transparent plastic gems and small round imitation pearls.
The name Zhang Yike might sound a little perfunctory at first, but it was actually chosen with considerable thought. In this household, even someone as rigid as Ah Shan was quietly indulging her in his own way.
After Ah Shan finished sending the message, I quickly looked away. Zhang Mingsheng slammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car surged forward. The window was cracked open an inch, and the evening wind whistled as it rushed in.
Zhang Mingsheng was indeed happy today, wearing a rare smile on his face. He said, “By this time, they must have already eaten at home. We’ll sneak a meal outside, and no one is allowed to tell on us; otherwise, Aunt Liu will definitely be unhappy if she finds out.”
Aunt Liu treated cooking as a hobby, so she was naturally more enthusiastic about it than the private chefs hired by the family. Since she had such passion at her age, we all naturally supported her. Moreover, she was truly talented. If we ate out (socializing at various high-end restaurants was one thing; Aunt Liu didn’t make things hard for herself either), she would always be a bit saddened.
I also knew that Zhang Mingsheng didn’t necessarily care about how Aunt Liu felt; he just wanted to appear as though he cared deeply about others’ feelings. But I was starving and had no time to expose him, so I just went along with it, “It seems you’re quite experienced at this.”
Zhang Mingsheng’s eyes filled with laughter, “Indeed. After all, my wife is different from other people’s wives; he never checks up on me, so I’m quite free and easy.”
“Boss, please pull over here.” Ah Shan paid no mind to our conversation and leaned forward as we approached the entrance of a long street night market. It seemed he had already made up his mind.
Ignoring Zhang Mingsheng, who was busy acting out his own prime-time soap opera, I reached for my wallet, pulled out a few banknotes, and handed them to Ah Shan. “Call Ah Hai and ask him what he wants to eat. Bring some back for him later.”
Ah Shan didn’t take them; he waved his hand and said he had brought his own money.
I felt helpless. “Your boss is right here; you really think we’re going to let you pay?”
Ah Shan shook his head in silence. He opened the car door and slipped out abruptly, his tall, straight figure disappearing into the night market. It had been rainy lately, and there was no guarantee that many shops would be open; for him to walk forward with such confidence, he must have eaten here many times and knew the vendors stayed open come rain or shine.
Out of curiosity, I had once asked Ah Hai about his relationship with Ah Shan. Knowing they had both served in the military, I wanted to know how they met and how they became as close as brothers as they were today.
Ah Hai, however, remained tight-lipped. He seemed to feel that his and Ah Shan’s story wasn’t worth mentioning, even though they had faced life and death together many times.
It was Ah Shan who had once spoken with certainty, “Brother Hai saved my life, and then the Master saved both of us.”
“Brother Hai.” It seemed Ah Hai was a bit older than Ah Shan.
Watching Ah Shan’s silhouette gradually vanish into the night through the window, I murmured, “After all this time, I still don’t know Ah Shan’s real name.”
“Tang Yishan.” Zhang Mingsheng answered readily.
“Yishan?”
“As in ‘yi’ for perseverance.”
“What about Ah Hai?”
“Ding Ah Hai. ‘Ding’ as in the third heavenly stem.”
I turned to look into Zhang Mingsheng’s eyes, wanting to be sure he wasn’t joking, only to find him casually selecting a music album instead. Come to think of it, he wouldn’t bother lying about something like this.
I was somewhat surprised. I hadn’t expected Ah Hai’s name to be so simple while Ah Shan’s was so heavy. It was the exact opposite of the impression the two of them gave off.
With only Zhang Mingsheng and me left in the car, there was a sudden lack of conversation. Normally, I wouldn’t speak up casually, but today there was a doubt I had to resolve.
I spoke, “When will you let Ah Hai and Ah Shan go?”
Were they really meant to waste their entire lives away in the Zhang household?
“Go? Go where? People like them risk their lives no matter where they are; they might as well sell their lives to me. At least my wife and children treat them like family,” he said, his tone light and hard to read.
I didn’t say a word as I stared him down intensely.
He sensed it immediately, turned his head, froze for a brief moment, and then gave a faint smile. He said, “I know you’re worried about them getting implicated and even more worried that I’ll silence them. Relax; once everything is settled, I’ll naturally let them leave.”
“Settled? What counts as settled?”
“When you find the chance to kill me. When that happens, I’ll tell Ah Hai in a dream that his boss is dead and let him take Ah Shan and go find a better future elsewhere.”
Zhang Mingsheng was in high spirits today, his tone sounding years younger. He ignored me after that while tapping his finger as the cabin was immediately filled with a melodious little tune. It sounded quite vintage.
I pricked up my ears. When the female singer’s voice began, Zhang Mingsheng’s low humming followed, intertwining with her voice.
It was the first time I had heard him hum.
But it didn’t feel like the first time I had heard this song.
Amidst the slow, heavy melody, my heart gradually settled into a calm. A fine drizzle began to fall again outside the window, making the world feel even more desolate as if everything were vast and hollow.
It was the end of the year again, a time that should have been the most bustling. When there is a child in the house, you find any reason to celebrate, whether it’s a Western holiday or Lunar New Year. Li Yi and I used to be the same; our work was so busy and exhausting that we always looked for excuses to reward ourselves. It was just that we’d eat burgers on Christmas Eve and fast food for the New Year.
Lately, I had been thinking of Li Yi frequently, and I could only sigh. I rummaged through the clutter in the glove compartment and pulled out an opened pack of cigarettes. I slipped a filter between my lips, freed one hand to find a lighter, and, after finding it, rolled the window down further.
Just as I was about to strike the flame, a hand came down like the Five-Fingered Mountain of the Buddha, covering my lighter. A wave of impatience rose in me. If he wasn’t going to let me smoke, why hadn’t he said so earlier? If lighting it now could burn him to death, I would certainly press down.
Zhang Mingsheng’s voice sounded as thin as a strand of silk through the music. He said softly, “Don’t smoke. Someone is following and filming.”
Someone was filming?
Paparazzi? Zhang family people? At this hour, what could they possibly catch, and what were they looking for?
I was just about to turn my head to look around when I heard Zhang Mingsheng suddenly erupt, “Watch out!”
I jerked my head back and instinctively leaned toward him.
Before I could react, I was gathered into a pair of arms and pressed into the dark infinity of his chest. He used force to hold me tight and refused to let go. My eyes widened, and I forgot how to move.
He laughed.
I heard his laughter.
The person holding me right now was my husband in name, the father of two children, and simultaneously, he was a criminal, a villain, and a desperate man. He was the person I hated most in this world, someone I wanted dead at every waking moment.
And yet, just now, I had been lured into his embrace by a simple lie and subsequently forced to listen to his powerful heartbeat pounding like a war drum against a rising tide.
