Elio’s Notes: The title invokes the classical expression 草蛇灰线, used for clues or foreshadowing that appear faint and broken on the surface but form a continuous hidden thread when followed closely.
The Three Rivers region lay beneath the sweltering heat of the dog days, hot enough not only to smelt steel but to scorch every restless heart harboring secret schemes. Cicadas screamed deafeningly through the low alleys of Rongzheng Street. Hardy shoulder-pole porters threaded constantly through the lanes, bare shoulders and calves beneath black trousers knocking against one another amid the crush of bodies.
Back then, Chen Jin was still called Chen Peng. The name had been chosen not long after his birth, on one of the rare occasions when his father was in a good mood. Chen Jiu had asked an educated old accountant across the street to look through a dictionary. A common mortal beneath a crown of grass, Chen Jiu thought the character suited his own seed nicely, and it looked good on paper too.
Elio’s Notes: Chen Peng’s original given name is 芃. The character places the grass radical 艹 above 凡, “ordinary” or “mortal,” which is why Chen Jiu describes it as an ordinary mortal beneath a crown of grass.
Chen Jin had hard bone structure but a slightly thin frame. He slipped home close against the walls, avoiding the cold, contemptuous looks of the neighbors and their endless gossip. An auntie across the street came out and shouted at him, “Your dad stole a handcart from our family a few days ago. Go ask that deadbeat when he plans to give it back!”
Chen Jiu, who had been fooling around outside for a full two months without once coming home, unexpectedly appeared that evening.
When he showed up, he wore a fashionable export T-shirt of the period and swaggered his muscular body through the doorway with a Marlboro hanging from the corner of his grin. The clatter of overturned stools and tables beside the door sent Chen Jin shrinking toward the wall. He had always regarded his father with cold fear. Chen Jiu slapped him under the chin. “The fuck’s wrong with your face? Look happy for your old man, brat…”
Chen Jiu was famous throughout the neighborhood as human garbage. Whenever he showed his face on Rongzheng Street, creditors and victims appeared from every direction as though summoned.
His rough, hostile voice buzzed through the whole evening, threaded with a strange, excited laugh. “Stop coming after me. I’m done! From now on I never have to carry that busted shoulder pole again, hahahaha!”
Chen Jin exposed half his face from behind a broken wooden board and watched. People demanding debts from his father came one after another, arguing and shouting. Among them was a customer who had frequently hired Chen Jiu lately to move and deliver goods. The man had a fair face and a slim, even build, and he reasoned with Chen Jiu in a slow, measured voice. “Chen Jiu, I’m giving you work and you won’t do it? A man has to keep his hands and feet busy to support a family. If you stop carrying loads, what are you going to do, become a teacher?”
Chen Jiu picked up the shoulder pole beside the door, braced it across his thigh, and smashed it cleanly in two.
That night, Chen Jiu should have disappeared without a sound and fled as far away as possible. He should never have come back home to show off. But he was an uneducated man and simply could not contain himself.
Cheap human nature often worked that way. After years of being despised, mocked, stifled, and humiliated, he had finally stumbled into a stroke of wicked fortune and was about to rise overnight. No one could suppress the desire and ambition swelling inside him. Chen Jiu was ruthless enough but lacked patience and intelligence. In his mind, sudden riches had to be flaunted before all the old neighbors so they could stare in envy until their eyes and stomachs hurt. Otherwise, wealth simply would not taste satisfying enough.
The fair-faced customer still wanted to say something. “Chen Jiu, this delivery order to Luojiang tomorrow morning…”
Chen Jiu waved him away arrogantly, letting the thin sheet spin into a dusty, cobwebbed corner. “Forget it. Stop fucking whining in my face!”
The fair-faced man lowered his voice in displeasure. “If you’re quitting, then quit. But what about the orders you owe from the last two runs? Where are my goods? At least finish what you already took.”
Chen Jiu sneered. “Duidui~~~ Since when do I owe you any delivery orders? Find somebody else. Get lost!”
Something unfriendly flashed through the fair-faced man’s eyes as they narrowed. “Chen Jiu, you old bastard, I run a tiny business and it’s hard enough making a living in the Three Rivers region. You break the rules, swallow my goods, and think you can play me for a fool?!”
Chen Jiu’s voice shook with contempt. “Fuck. You blind little Duidui. You think I’m scared of some broke outsider like you? You sell a few lousy shoes and think you’re gonna become some big boss? One day I could crush a Duidui like you as easy as stepping on an ant. Under. Stand?”
Threats spoken carelessly could bring disaster. Sometimes the speaker meant less than the listener heard. A man who looked arrogant and violent might not actually possess the nerve to kill without blinking, while someone who appeared frail and harmless might prove perfectly capable of ruthless, decisive brutality.
Chen Jiu struck first, beating the man across the back with one half of the broken shoulder pole and driving him away.
As the customer left, his face had darkened. He replied calmly, “Chen Jiu, leave yourself some room when you deal with people. Don’t go too far.”
Young Chen Jin, spying from the shadows, distinctly saw violence and danger in the fair, scholarly-looking man’s expression. It was as though a third eye had opened between his brows and released a beam of dark red bloodlight.
……
Growing up amid creditors pounding on the door and neighbors sneering at the family, Chen Jin was accustomed to scenes like this and paid little attention. He withdrew his gaze coldly from behind the cracked wooden boards, only to be drawn back by an even more frightening commotion.
Another round of debt collectors had arrived ready to fight. This time it was the most notorious loan-sharking outfit for miles around. Several men actually brawled with Chen Jiu at the mouth of the alley, splashing blood across the thresholds of neighboring homes and sending chickens and dogs into chaos.
When Chen Jiu stepped back through his doorway with a fresh wound on his arm, he cursed nonstop: “Motherfuckers, I’ve got plenty of money, but I’m not paying you one damn cent!”
Chen Jiu met the woman’s weak, birdlike eyes, filled with terror.
The flimsy bedsheet tore and twisted beneath the violence, mingling with the woman’s cries and pleas. Her begging rose and faded until it was swallowed by the man’s brutal panting. The boy spying from behind the door felt physically sick at the crude abuse. He watched Chen Jiu grin viciously and once again wrench Cai Hongying’s tear-streaked face around, forcing her to look at the photograph of her parents beside the bed.
That was another festering wound in Chen Jiu’s mind. Cai Hongying’s parents had despised the gangster from the beginning, yet somehow he had sweet-talked Cai Hongying into marrying him. Every time Chen Jiu brutalized her in bed, he deliberately straightened that photograph, as though abusing his wife in front of her father allowed him to vent the filthy resentment in his chest.
After committing every ugly act he pleased, the villain drained two cans of beer and left without packing a single belonging. He no longer cared about any of the broken junk in the house. Before going, he left the woman several newly bought fashionable dresses and enough money to cover his son’s school fees for one semester.
That evening, Chen Jiu remained at the Rongzheng Street home for only about an hour before leaving quickly and disappearing. It was the last time anyone around the house ever saw him. After that, he vanished without a trace.
What Chen Jiu did not know was that his son followed him that night.
Chen Jin himself did not know where the courage came from. Though still very young, his chest was packed with hatred and rage. He grabbed an iron hook from the corner, hid a kitchen cleaver on himself, and rushed out the door while his mother sobbed weakly behind him.
His mother had been timid and pitiful all her life. Her son was not.
What Chen Jin wanted then was simple: hack the monster to death and end everything once and for all.
He followed Chen Jiu’s trail and hired one of the three-wheeled motor taxis common in the outskirts at the time. The little vehicle carried him beyond the Fanjiang City boundary, apparently along a rural dirt road through wild hills, into a relatively barren area of Luojiang City. Low houses stood sparsely among trees and mounds of earth.
He remembered several important details.
When Chen Jiu emerged from the trees, he was pushing a large, battered handcart covered with oilcloth over crates whose contents clearly were not meant to be seen.
On a main road used by freight vehicles, Chen Jiu brazenly flagged down passing traffic until a medium-sized box truck finally stopped. The body was white, with a company logo spray-painted in blue on the rear. Chen Jin could still vaguely describe the shape of the logo. The driver’s voice carried on the wind across the empty wilderness and over tall patches of dry yellow grass. “This is a company vehicle belonging to Boss Ling. Why are you stopping me?”…
Chen Jin should have considered himself lucky. He had been only a powerless child then. If he truly had attacked his biological father with a knife, given Chen Jiu’s nature, there was no guarantee the man would not have killed his own son just to remove an inconvenience.
There was no way Chen Jin could keep up with a truck on foot. In the end, he lost them and therefore never witnessed Chen Jiu’s final fate. He wandered the wilderness hungry for two days before foolishly returning home with the kitchen cleaver. By doing so, he preserved his own life and missed a vast fortune by the narrowest margin.
……
……
They were now sitting together inside a large hospital room with all unrelated outsiders excluded. Though injured, Captain Xue had allowed the medical staff to do nothing more than stop the bleeding and bandage the wound. He leaned against the headboard and listened to Student Chen’s statement.
Chen Jin’s story stopped abruptly just when it reached its climax. The first half had been harrowing, while the second half simply ended like a story abandoned by its author.
“And then?” Captain Xue pressed.
“And then there wasn’t anything else. I went home.” Chen Jin’s eyes were completely honest.
Xue Qian asked, “What did you hear afterward?”
Chen Jin said, “Afterward… people in the neighborhood started saying he probably died somewhere outside. He never came back. So he died.”
The anticlimactic story left an infuriating pit in front of Captain Xue, tantalizingly unfinished. It offered only vague traces in the shadows, yet every trace demanded hard thought.
The backpack everyone had fought over like a prize finally opened to reveal a collection of genuinely ancient junk. Chen Jin had stored the belongings in his mother’s ashes compartment at Fushan Cemetery. The conditions had been poor. After sorting through everything, several recognizable categories emerged.
There were several rayon dresses for women, fashions now badly outdated and painfully unfashionable, all carrying the stale smell of mildew. They were probably the clothes Chen Jiu had bought for Cai Hongying just before he disappeared.
There was also a pile of delivery slips signed by shoulder-pole porters. Such things had once been common on Rongzheng Street and were still used by some people even now. Porters accepted a small deposit to carry goods from one place to another. Part of the route might require a vehicle, while the rest was traveled on foot through streets and alleys, sometimes taking two or three days. The remaining labor fee was collected at the destination. Many slips bore Chen Jiu’s crooked, ugly signature and rough handwritten names of the various customers. Since nothing had been machine printed, deciphering the handwriting after all these years left plenty of room for uncertainty.
Several people crowded around a small table, struggling character by character to make out the writing. In the end, they could not identify more than a handful of complete names.
Age had left the papers yellowed and brittle, the ink faded nearly away. Even someone with eyes as sharp as Mr. Yan eventually had to admit defeat. Only Cai Hongying and her son would have preserved trash like this as though it were treasure, practically intending to pass it down through the generations. Perhaps that too was some kind of Stockholm syndrome after years of abuse.
There was also a list of Chen Jiu’s gambling debts to loan sharks, with several creditor names still faintly legible.
Xue Qian said seriously, “Let’s break the important information down one point at a time.
“In other words, before Chen Jiu left home that night, he met at least two groups of people who had financial disputes with him. Both groups could be called creditors, and both had reason to hate the bastard. Chen Jiu planned to shake them off and flee overnight. Naturally they would chase him. Both groups had clear motives.
“The company vehicle belonging to a Boss Ling should be easy to investigate. Follow that vine and we may be able to find the driver of that box truck from back then and determine who saw Chen Jiu last.
“And the location where Chen Jiu was last seen is interesting too. A no-man’s-land right where the three cities of the Three Rivers region meet makes a damn fine crime scene. Pull every incident from fifteen years ago in that area, cross-reference anything that can be connected, and the truth should nearly assemble itself!” Xue Qian imagined the dirt roads and mountain tracks Student Chen had traveled by three-wheeled taxi, followed the route across a map in his mind into the outskirts, then decisively circled the place he believed to be the original crime scene.
Captain Xue already had a clear idea of the path forward. Professional investigators could quickly dredge up basket after basket of material from these leads. He raised his head and gave Ling He an interested glance.
Ling He did not evade it in the slightest. He met Captain Xue’s probing stare directly. At a moment like this, even the smallest hesitation would look like guilt.
Xue Qian said lightly, “A Boss Ling? Ling isn’t exactly a common surname. Mr. Ling, don’t tell me this is coincidence and you just happened to be passing through Fanjiang Railway Station today.”
“I wasn’t passing by. I came to assist Captain Xue in solving the case as quickly as possible.” Ling He answered with complete righteousness, accepting Xue Qian’s suspicious gaze without either confirmation or denial. The rest of his response was written plainly in his eyes: I’m not afraid of you following these faint traces all the way to the end. I’m afraid you won’t investigate. Go ahead. Dig as deep as you like.
Xue Qian recorded Chen Jin’s statement with a voice recorder, then listened to it twice more in careful thought.
Suddenly Xue Qian asked, “Xiao Chen, who was that ‘Duidui’ you mentioned? What does ‘Duidui’ mean?”
Chen Jin answered, “I don’t know either. That’s just what my dad called him.”
Xue Qian asked, “Was it some habitual filler your father used when he talked? Or was he addressing the other person by name?”
Chen Jin said, “No. He didn’t use filler words like that. The way I remember it, he was calling the man that.”
Xue Qian asked, “How old was the man?”
Chen Jin said, “In his twenties, probably. Didn’t look old.”
Xue Qian muttered to himself, “There are people actually named ‘Duidui’? If it was a legal name, it would be easy enough to trace someone from back then. But if it was just some street nickname people shouted around, after this many years it’ll be a hell of a lot harder.”
Chen Jin’s speech carried a strong local accent. The sound came out close to dui in the third tone.
Captain Xue scribbled across the paper, unable to make sense of it. “Dui-Dui”? “Duidui”? What the hell kind of name was that?
Having finally spoken aloud the nightmare that had weighed on him for years, Chen Jin suddenly seemed much lighter. His brows relaxed, and he lowered his head and unceremoniously ate Captain Xue’s patient meal. If he had known telling the truth would feel this easy, he would have confessed years ago. All that stubborn inferiority had been so foolish.
The quietest person in the hospital room was Yan Xiaodao.
Ling He listened to Captain Xue question Chen Jin, but his gaze never left Yan Xiaodao. He had sharply noticed that from one particular point in Chen Jin’s story onward, Yan Xiaodao’s expression had suddenly darkened and grown grave. From then until the end, he had not spoken once.
Ling He stared hard at Xiaodao.
Yan Xiaodao shifted his gaze away, deliberately avoiding him.
For one instant, Ling He nearly lost control and stepped directly in front of Captain Xue. He could easily have stated that person’s name with complete certainty and saved the investigators the pointless trouble of digging for clues. It would have been like taking off their pants just to fart, utterly unnecessary.
But he bit his lower lip and held back. Unexpectedly, he was protecting Yan Xiaodao’s dignity in front of Xue Qian, protecting Xiaodao’s feelings in that moment. Better to let Captain Xue investigate it himself. Xue Qian would soon turn to the final page of the truth anyway.
Dark storm clouds heavy with Wushan rain pressed across Yan Xiaodao’s face. A violent current seemed to flicker deep in his pupils, roaring through a narrow channel, smashing against the banks and breaking into spray. Those shattered droplets remained as complicated flecks of light in Yan Xiaodao’s eyes.
When Ling He and Xiaodao left the room, Captain Xue made several more calls in succession, ordering colleagues on the local task force to pursue the leads immediately: the loan-sharking gang that had bullied its way across Rongzheng Street fifteen years ago, the truck and driver connected to a Boss Ling and a blue company logo, and several villages around the point where the three cities met. They would need extensive field visits and interviews with people who remembered the old days.
In front of Captain Xue, Ling He remained completely calm, neither admitting nor denying any connection between himself and the old case.
But just as Ling He was almost out the door, Xue Qian called after him. “Ling He, what was your father’s name?”
Ling He turned. “Ling Huang.”
Personnel and household-registration information was not difficult to obtain. Xue Qian could not be bothered circling through piles of old files and asked directly, “Fifteen years ago, Ling Huang was a company president? What was the registered name of his company?”
Ling He answered, “Hanchao Huashang Group.”
Xue Qian repeated the company name casually, his eyes razor sharp. “The place where Chen Jiu’s remains were buried was a factory that suffered a chemical explosion. At roughly the same time fifteen years ago, that factory happened to experience a suspicious explosion and fire that killed people. The corporate legal representative and management took responsibility for negligent operations and poor supervision. If I remember correctly, that factory belonged to Hanchao Huashang Group at the time?”
Ling He looked impressed. “Captain Xue, you remember correctly.”
Without taking a breath, Xue Qian pressed harder. “Chen Jiu’s remains came back to light early this year because a company bought that chemically contaminated wasteland cheaply and planned to redevelop it. Then they ‘happened’ to dig up a pile of old bones and reported them to police. If I still remember correctly, that company was registered two years ago under the name Hanhai Group.”
The corner of Ling He’s mouth lifted slightly. “Excellent memory, Captain Xue. Impressive.”
Xue Qian felt he understood nearly everything and nodded meaningfully. “All right, thanks.”
There was no need to ask the rest of the useless questions. The police could quickly sort the relevant people by category and investigate every last one of them. Nobody would escape.
Ling He spoke with apparent sincerity. “Captain Xue, you’re still working despite being injured. Take good care of yourself. I’ll be waiting for the good news when you solve the case.”
Ling He’s group checked into a nearby hotel that evening. This time there were plenty of rooms, so no one needed to fight over a sofa.
Yet Ling He and Yan Xiaodao were both weighed down by thoughts. They seemed still trapped in the branching details of Captain Xue’s hospital interrogation. Standing in the hotel lobby, their gazes wandered in different directions, each absorbed in something unsaid.
Assistant Mao glanced at the two men’s sharply different expressions and stepped up to the front desk. “Three rooms…”
“No. Two.” Ling He interrupted.
“Three would be better.” This time it was Mr. Yan whose voice came out light and casual.
“Two.” The aggressive Mr. Ling snatched two key cards from the front-desk manager.
Ling He offered no explanation. He silently tossed one key card to Mao Zhixiu, then turned and hauled one of Yan Xiaodao’s arms over his shoulders. Almost like an abductor, he locked an arm around Xiaodao’s waist, strode upstairs into the room they would share, kicked the door shut with his heel, and deliberately engaged both security locks so nobody outside could possibly get in.
Yan Xiaodao knew that with Ling He’s sharp powers of observation, even if his expression could fool Xue Qian, it would never fool Ling He. Tonight’s confrontation was inevitable.
“Stop messing around.” Yan Xiaodao shoved him away with a dark expression and seriously straightened his collar, already considering how he would handle what was coming.
Ling He gave him no chance to build defensive walls around himself and arm them to the teeth. When Yan shoved him away, Ling He caught his arm in return, used a karate joint lock and throwing technique, and twisted him backward onto the bed.
It was not that one crippled leg made Yan Xiaodao incapable of fighting back. He simply did not want to wrestle with this man. But Ling He’s refusal to let go finally irritated him. Yan Xiaodao said in a low voice, “Xiao He, if you’ve got something to say, let’s talk properly.”
That rare intimate “Xiao He” already betrayed that Yan Xiaodao had softened and felt guilty.
Ling He ignored the concession completely. He pushed Yan flat on the bed and tried to pin him directly.
“You… show some respect. Are you done or not?” Yan Xiaodao frowned, hooked his strong left leg upward, braced it against Ling He’s backside, and violently bucked him off in an attempt to escape. Ling He had long arms and legs and gave up no advantage once entangled. He surged forward again, trapped one of Yan’s arms, and locked an arm around his neck from behind to drag him back onto the bed.
Their movements were large and forceful. Within moments, sweat dampened both their temples and their breathing had grown heavier. If they kept fighting, they were going to ignite something else entirely.
Yan Xiaodao softened first, resignedly relaxing his arms and lying flat on the bed as he said, “Fine, say it; what exactly are you trying to do tonight?”
Ling He immediately straddled his waist and grabbed a fistful of his collar. “Xiaodao, even that little disaster Chen Jin confessed the truth. Why haven’t you confessed to Captain Xue?”
Yan Xiaodao asked, “Confessed what?”
“You’re still pretending in front of me?” Anger flooded Ling He’s beautiful face red. “Xiaodao, you’re the real person who knows. You know better than anyone who that customer was, the one who came to Chen Jiu’s house demanding his goods the last time Chen Jiu appeared there!”
Yan Xiaodao said, “I wasn’t even there. I never saw surveillance footage or photographs. What exactly am I supposed to know for certain?”
Ling He loomed above him with furious momentum, pinning both sides of Yan Xiaodao’s collarbones as he growled, “Who was the man nicknamed ‘Duidui’ in the local Three Rivers dialect? Why didn’t you tell Captain Xue outright?!”
“…”