Red Brocade
She didn’t know where to go and didn’t want to just head home and worry her mother. As she walked, a bus stopped in front of her.
The terminal stop was the Qingshan Villa Complex.
She hazily put in the money, climbed aboard, and found herself a seat to sit down.
The last bus heading to the suburbs at night was completely empty.
The driver stopped the bus at the terminal station and kindly reminded her, “Miss, could it be that you’ve taken the bus in the wrong direction? There are no more buses at this time. I’ll be heading back, why not let me give you a lift—”
Song Yuhang refused his kindness, “No need, thank you. I live here.”
As she spoke, she jumped off the bus and walked up the long mountain road, oh how she hoped that after turning at the corner ahead, she would see the lights on in the villa.
She was full of hope, but it was all in vain.
Song Yuhang squatted down by the roadside, gazing at the pitch-black room opposite. She took out a wrinkled pack of cigarettes from her pocket, smoothed it over, and drew out a slim cigarette, which she placed between her lips. With a flick, she ignited her lighter.
Amid the curling smoke, the streetlight cast a warm glow, and the April bugs danced around her.
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And like that, she squatted there, smoking through the night.
What Song Yuhang didn’t realize was that, not far away in a parked car, someone was silently watching her – they watched the whole night through.
Not until the dawn broke with a pale light did the cigarette butts pile up at Song Yuhang’s feet.
The driver urged, “It’s time for you to go.”
The woman snapped back to reality, “Let’s go.”
Her words were extremely slow, her voice hoarse.
As the car engine started, she couldn’t stop turning her head back, looking at Song Yuhang’s unruly eyebrows, her bloodshot eyes, the hand pinching a cigarette, her jet-black hair – all of her. Until Song Yuhang shrunk into a tiny dot that could no longer be seen.
In this process, her heart was gradually tearing apart; that part of her belonging to the past was being definitively sealed and buried as the distance from Song Yuhang grew wider.
The woman tilted her head back, tears slowly rolling down.
In this world, Lin Yan is no more.
Three days later, at the border.
A jeep weaved through the jungle.
The nearby border river flowed gently, with the sound of bubbling water.
It had rained the night before, softening the earth. The jeep sped by, splattering mud on the grass at the roadside.
As the jeep rounded a bend, a woman tumbled out, snapping a swath of shrubbery with a crash.
The terrain here dipped low, and the woman rolled to the side of the road, her head striking an oil palm tree. She slid down, desperately trying to claw her way up, but ultimately just tore off a few dry vines, and with a crash, tumbled down.
Dizzy and disoriented, she couldn’t grasp anything and fell head-first into a puddle beside the border river.
As the tide ebbed and flowed.
Several fishing boats passed by.
Kind-hearted villagers, casting their nets, found they couldn’t pull them up. Turning over the nets, they were instantly struck with horror.
“Quick, over here, there’s someone!”
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Several folks scurried and clambered into the shallow pit, lifting the person onto the boat.
“Miss, miss, wake up!”
The woman furrowed her brow, coughed lightly a few times, expelling the accumulated water from her lungs, and slowly came to, her gaze still wary.
“Who… who are you all?”
“We’re fishermen from a nearby fishing village.”
Their Mandarin carried a hint of a southern accent.
The woman let out a sigh of relief: “Where is this?”
“You’re in China now. Just past that border river channel up ahead is the little fishing village.”
Seeing the waterlogged woman’s bruised and swollen face suggested she had suffered considerably. Noting her drenched state and the blood on her clothes, the fishermen couldn’t bear it and brought out a wool blanket to drape over her.
The woman sat up and expressed her thanks.
The boy who helped pull her aboard, unable to resist her beautiful eyes, blushed as he struck up a conversation: “What’s your name? How did you end up here?”
The woman held the villagers’ battered electric kettle lid and took a gentle sip of the hot water, a mysterious smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
But she concealed it well. At least when she looked up to speak, she was the picture of a woman sold to Southeast Asia by her husband, trying to smuggle herself back home, only to accidentally fall into the water – a portrait of misfortune.
“My name is Pei Jin…”
She exchanged names with the boy.
The middle-aged man poling at the bow stealthily glanced back at her and signaled to someone nearby with his eyes.
That person picked up the fishing net and disappeared into the cabin.
The woman knew that the whole world was searching for the “Golden Pheasant,” and she didn’t even need to make any extra moves; just releasing this piece of information would naturally bring people to her doorstep.
All she had to do now was wait.
The woman set aside the lid of the electric kettle and comfortably narrowed her eyes, basking in the sunlight to her heart’s content.
The feeling of seeing the light of day again was truly wonderful.
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If only you were here.
“Is Lin Yan really dead?!” The man asked hastily and bluntly.
Lin Youyuan was nestled in a wheelchair, skinny as a rail, wearing a blue and white patient’s gown that hung loosely on him.
With an oxygen tube inserted in his nose and a respirator beside him, his voice was muffled and heavy as he spoke, his breathing as labored as if he were pulling at the bellows.
“Dead.”
He uttered these two words lightly, then began to cough violently, shaking the IV stand so that it seemed it might topple over.
The butler quickly patted his back to ease his breathing and put the oxygen mask on him.
“Master, please stay calm and don’t get agitated.”
The man took a step back, seemingly in disbelief.
Lin Youyuan took a moment to catch his breath, then looked up at him.
“Weren’t you already… cough cough… already aware?”
Knowing it is one thing; seeing it with your own eyes is another.
Without waiting for his response, Lin Youyuan’s lips twisted into a mocking smile: “Show the guest out.”
“Please.” Lin Youyuan’s personal head butler maintained ample respect in his presence, bowing slightly as he gestured the invitation to leave.
The man glanced at him and strode away.
Once he reached the hallway, he finally asked, “What illness?”
Lin Youyuan didn’t intend to hide it from him; otherwise, he wouldn’t have allowed the visit. Thus, the butler slightly bowed his head and said in a rough voice.
“Terminal lung cancer.”
The man’s body jolted violently, as if he had aged significantly at that moment, his lips trembling.
“No need to see me out. Go take care of your family’s master.”
Meanwhile.
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Two sealed letters were delivered into the hands of Kuba and Wang Qiang at the same time.
“The Red Brocade has been found?!” The man suddenly sat up from a woman’s embrace, bits of grape skin still clinging to his lips.
The woman tried to wipe them off for him but was brushed aside.
“Give me the details, what’s the situation?”
Kuba passed over the note.
The old man glanced at the note and tossed it aside.
“She’s just a broker; her death is of no consequence.”
Kuba hesitated for a moment but chose to speak frankly.
“Even though she’s just an ant, all our goods go through her. If she’s dead, our sales might halve. Not to mention the beauties…”
The old man snorted, cracking sunflower seeds and fed one to the parrot on his shoulder.
“In the end, it all comes down to a woman’s issues.”
Kuba quickly stepped back, pressing his palms together to show his absolute loyalty.
“I wouldn’t dare…”
The old man continued to crack sunflower seeds, gazing straight ahead while the parrot on his shoulder peeked around curiously.
“I’ve heard that the border river has been quite restless lately. She’s been missing for so long, who knows…”
Kuba’s expression turned sharp: “I will make the arrangements right away.”
The old man put the sunflower seeds into the dish: “What has Lin Ge been up to lately?”
Kuba scratched his head, seemingly perplexed: “He hasn’t been going out much lately. The people I sent report that he… he…”
“He what?”
Kuba slapped his forehead, having remembered.
“He’s not drinking tea or eating, struck with grief!”
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The old man, who was about to lift his teacup from the table, paused abruptly, setting it back down so that the lid of the teacup tipped over.
“Idiot.”
“Brother Wang, what should we do?” the servant asked tentatively, carefully observing his mood.
The singer hadn’t grasped the full story before she was roughly hustled out.
Wang Qiang, dressed in a black suit and vest, paced back and forth inside the room.
An adversary of Pei Jinhong spoke in a mocking tone, “Recently, things at the border river have been anything but peaceful. There was even an armed conflict the day Sister Hong came back. Who knows if it was the cops’ doing. Sister Hong could have returned any other time, but she chose this moment—it’s just too coincidental.”
This was an insinuation that Pei Jinhong might very well have defected to the cops.
Wang Qiang abruptly stopped pacing, a cruel hardness spreading across his face.
“I’ll go to pick her up myself. If she has indeed turned to the cops, then…”
He lifted his hand and made a gesture indicating no mercy.
LP: So Lin Yan is just ‘the woman’ now. At least she’s still alive ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ
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