Ji Tan had no wish to discuss wood-ear mushrooms any further, so he hurriedly changed the subject. “Sis, I just got paid, and I’d like to take my older brother to see a better doctor. Do you know which hospital is best for mental health problems?”
The woman beamed at being called “Sis” and waved her hands. “Goodness, just call me Sister Xu. You’re making me blush.”
Ji Tan kept his innocent, youthful expression and gazed curiously at Sister Xu, waiting for her answer.
Ever since he was little, he’d known what his greatest advantage was: he was cute. He could get away with things other boys couldn’t. He could roll around making demands without getting beaten, and his adorable act could win favors from older brothers and sisters.
That was why, whenever he needed local information while out handling something, he liked asking older women and men. He could almost always count on getting an answer.
Sister Xu didn’t disappoint. She told him everything. After a few exchanges, Ji Tan had a rough picture of the neighborhood.
The place was rather like an old twentieth-century neighborhood, where everyone knew their neighbors. Poverty meant people helped one another, but it also bred conflict, and disputes between neighbors were common. Sister Xu was the street’s peacemaker, on good terms with many people and often called upon to settle their arguments.
After telling him about her son, who had just been admitted to a prestigious middle school, Sister Xu finally returned to his question. She glanced toward the Ji family’s kitchen window and sighed. “Your brother’s sanity level has dropped. An ordinary clinic really can’t handle that. You’d need an awfully expensive hospital. How could poor people like us afford one? My advice is not to bother. Praying to a god would do more good than medicine.”
With that, Sister Xu mysteriously produced a little card and slipped it into Ji Tan’s hand.
Ji Tan lowered his head to look at it, but she clamped down on both the card and his hand.
Sister Xu leaned close to his ear, lowering her voice to a breathy rasp. “I’ll tell you a secret. The great Argus really exists. Bring your brother to the old warehouse at the end of the street this evening. You might get the chance to become an Orderbearer.”
Ji Tan’s fist tightened abruptly around the card. He neither nodded nor shook his head, and the curve of his smile didn’t shift. He merely asked in an even voice, “Do they give out eggs?”
This sounded exactly like the “cults” Xie Zhi had warned him about in chaotic neighborhoods. As Ji Tan remembered it, groups like that often handed out eggs for the first few days to recruit members. Some even offered free lunches.
Sister Xu went blank for a moment, then shook his hand vigorously and warned him with unusual seriousness, “Don’t talk nonsense. Once you get there, do exactly as I say. This isn’t a joke.”
Ji Tan still neither nodded nor shook his head. He watched Sister Xu leave, muttering all the while, then put the empty plate into the sink, rinsed it, and examined the card.
The front bore a baffling advertisement that looked as though it might be selling rat poison:
[Eat without fear, and the corpse shall not decay. Amid utter frenzy, amid the delirious whispers of darkness, be reborn.]
The back of the card was filled with chaotic drawings. The most conspicuous was an eye without eyelashes.
Ji Tan’s breath caught. He’d seen that very eye in Ji Sinan’s drawer yesterday. Stealing a glance at his older brother, who was fastening a button for the sixth time, Ji Tan slipped the card into his jacket pocket and zipped it shut.
Getting nowhere with the neighbor, he would have to search online.
Unfortunately, there was no “Niche Reviews,” no “Low-Morals Maps,” not even a search engine that plastered shameless advertisements everywhere. Ji Tan couldn’t help marveling at the business opportunities. Once he had some breathing room, he’d try building an app himself and introduce City A’s sheltered citizens to modern life.¹
Elio’s Note ¹: “Niche Reviews” and “Low-Morals Maps” parody the names of China’s real-world consumer-review and mapping apps, Dianping and Amap (whose Chinese names are “Mass Reviews” and “High-Morals Maps”).
Then he could become Ji Huateng of the Western District or Ji Musk of the Northern District. Becoming City A’s richest man would be only a matter of time.²
Elio’s Note ²: Ji Huateng and Ji Musk are joking, surname-swapped references to tech magnate Ma Huateng (Pony Ma) and Elon Musk.
“What are you smiling about? You’re practically drooling.” Ji Sinan’s voice drifted eerily from behind him.
“Ahem. We’re going to see a doctor today, so remember to ask your boss for time off.” Ji Tan hurriedly wiped at the corner of his mouth. There wasn’t any drool! Apparently even someone with mental health problems could crack jokes!
Unable to find the information he needed, Ji Tan had no choice but to make a post on social media:
[Just moved to Xili District. You don’t even have any good hospitals here. It’s nowhere near as good as our Beichen District.]
The moment he hit Post, messages began popping up in a torrent of ding-ding-dings.
[You despicable outsider, what the hell are you talking about? Xili District has the most advanced medical care of all!!!]
[You’re right. All the great doctors are in Beichen District. Xili is just one big slum.]
[Beichen rich snobs, tone down the stench! I can smell your money through my brand-new mechanical nose.]
Amid the insults flying in every direction, Ji Tan found the answer he needed. Xili District’s best hospitals were Endless Day Medical and the Clearbright Life Center.
Endless Day Medical specialized in mechanical-organ transplants and other difficult or unusual conditions. It was called “Endless Day” because it operated around the clock, twenty-four hours a day.
The Clearbright Life Center, on the other hand, focused more on pharmaceutical research and mental health treatment. As one commenter put it, one visit there and you’d come out perfectly clearheaded and enlightened.
Ji Tan had what he needed. Sister Xu had already explained that, to reach the subway from this impoverished neighborhood, they would have to go to Fist Square, taking a bus there first.
After clearing away the dishes and securely locking the doors and windows, Ji Tan took his older brother by the hand and headed out.
Naturally, he didn’t wear the Afanti-style coat Xie Zhi had bought him. Instead, he changed into some old clothes left at home by the original owner: an utterly ordinary, casual outfit that made him look rather like a student.
Ji Tan put his identity documents and bank card in his pockets, then glanced at the thick proposal lying on the table. It was his golden finger, his special advantage, even if he hadn’t figured out how to activate it. Leaving it at home made him uneasy, so he dug out a crossbody bag from the bottom of the cabinet and stuffed the weighty proposal inside.
He’d have to ask Xie Zhi how he’d turned the proposal into a golden butterfly on the rooftop. If only the thing could keep flying around and following him.
A weary office worker really didn’t want to carry any more heavy objects than necessary on his commute.
Seeing Ji Tan with a bag, Ji Sinan’s eyes lit up. From somewhere, he produced a short, squat thermos, filled it with warm water, and tucked it into Ji Tan’s bag.
“They sell water outside,” Ji Tan tried to protest.
“You can’t just drink water from outside.”
His brother had spoken. The rebellion was crushed.
Their first stop was the clinic, so Ji Sinan could ask for leave.
The clinic where Ji Sinan worked was on neighboring Tin-Sheet Alley, also part of the Broken-Wire Street area. It was called “Quick Knife,” with a glowing spine hanging outside as its sign. The owner was a heavyset man with a mechanical arm who called himself “Quick-Knife Li.”
Business didn’t seem particularly brisk. When the brothers arrived, Quick-Knife Li was idly transforming his mechanical fingers, turning his index finger into a surgical scalpel and then back again.
“Boss, my little brother is back. I’d like to take a day off.” Ji Sinan dispensed with all pleasantries and went straight to the point.
Old Li glanced up at them. “Go on, go on. We haven’t got much business today anyway.”
“Boss, my little brother is back. I’d like to take a day off,” Ji Sinan repeated.
The plump boss scratched his head with a little yelp. He’d forgotten to change his little finger back from a screwdriver, and its tip had scratched his scalp.
“Boss, my little brother is back. I’d like to take a day off,” Ji Sinan said for the third time.
Clutching his head, Old Li went off to bandage himself. He ignored Ji Sinan altogether and didn’t even try to have the doctor standing in front of him dress the wound.
When Ji Sinan had finished, he exhaled and led Ji Tan away. Watching how the two men interacted, Ji Tan silently began working out a pattern.
From what he could tell, his brother needed to repeat actions seven times. When speaking to anyone other than Ji Tan, even when talking to himself, he had to repeat things three times. But anything involving Ji Tan was a little easier. When he tugged Ji Tan’s ears, for example, it was enough to do it symmetrically.
The two of them boarded a bus. Ji Tan stepped up first and apologized to the driver, explaining that his brother needed to step onto the bus’s entrance step seven times before he could get on.
The driver merely waved a hand, utterly unsurprised. “No problem. Just another nutcase, right? This neighborhood’s full of them.”
Ji Tan: “…” He had no idea what to say, so he stood beside the driver to stop him from suddenly hitting the accelerator and sending his brother flying.
By the time they finally reached Fist Square, Ji Tan let out a breath and looked around.
The square had seen better days. Its public facilities were falling apart: the tiles around the subway entrance were uneven, and the rain shelter had panes of glass here and there with gaps between them. There was no tactile paving for the visually impaired, nor a single staff member. Only the dazzling lights, flashing even in broad daylight, tried to lend the gloomy underground entrance a little atmosphere.
A great many people had gathered in the square, chattering and making a commotion. Ji Tan couldn’t tell what was going on.
Ji Tan asked an elderly man selling grilled sausages. The man told him that three burly fellows had been found lying bare-assed in the square that morning and taken away by the Public Security Office. People were gathering there to check in and post about it on social media.
“Who has so little decency they’d lie bare-assed in a public square?” Ji Tan muttered. The story sounded oddly familiar. Deciding the local customs were seriously questionable, he hurriedly dragged his older brother away.
The subway train itself was quite new. Coated in shimmering purple paint, it burst from the darkness like a gigantic fluorescent eggplant. The brothers boarded the eggplant. Holding on to a handrail, Ji Tan watched his brother sit down and stand up again and again with a rush of happiness. Softly, he said, “I’m so glad I get to see you again.”
When he was at school, he’d once visited the city where his brother attended university. On his first subway ride, his brother had held a handrail just like this, sheltering him in the corner of the seat so the other passengers wouldn’t jostle him.
At last, Ji Sinan completed his seven rounds of standing and sitting. He sighed. “As long as you’re not disgusted by me.”
Ji Tan’s nose prickled. “Nothing you do could ever disgust me. Isn’t it the same for you?”
Ji Sinan thought it over seriously, then shook his head. “You peed in my bed when you were little. I was pretty disgusted by that.”
The people around them turned to look.
Ji Tan’s face instantly turned scarlet. He had no idea which world’s incident Ji Sinan was remembering, but he’d certainly done that as a child, and his older brother had teased him about it for years.
He gave Ji Sinan’s calf a little kick, signaling him to stop talking.
Unfortunately, the attention from the other passengers seemed to make Ji Sinan nervous. Although he normally only needed to say things once to Ji Tan, now he couldn’t stop himself from repeating the words.
“You peed in my bed when you were little. I was pretty disgusted by that.”
Ji Tan tried to cover his brother’s mouth, but it was no use.
Even with his mouth covered, his older brother stubbornly mumbled the sentence a third time.
A middle-aged man beside them burst out laughing. “Young man, seems your brother really took that incident to heart.”
Ji Tan: “…”
Then why don’t you pee in my bed once so you can forget about it? I’m begging you.