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墨書 Inktalez
In the letter, Fat Ma mentioned that I should make a trip to Changsha, saying there was something urgent he needed to discuss with me.
That was all there was to the message, but given our years of friendship during the educated youth Revolution, I felt compelled to go. What if he had a terminal illness? It wouldn’t sit right with me if I didn’t see him at least once.
That evening, I told my grandfather that I was going on a long journey.
He took a sip of tea and didn’t try to dissuade me. He simply said, “If you happen to see your father, tell him to come home for a visit.”
When my grandfather said this, I noticed his eyes were red. What parent doesn’t want to see their children? Even though he often scolded my father.
However, my memories of my father were quite vague since I had seen him so infrequently.
I nodded heavily in response.
The next day, my grandfather accompanied me to the train station. Just before I left, he gave me a pendant, saying it would keep me safe and that I should never take it off.
I took the pendant in my hand but didn’t examine it closely; I simply hung it around my neck.
My grandfather looked at me intently, and I knew he was reluctant to let me go.
The train whistle blew, signaling departure. “I have to get on the train now,” I told him.
“Go on, go on, just go!” he murmured.
I boarded the train as it headed south. When I looked back out the window, my grandfather appeared as nothing more than a fading silhouette, growing further away from me.
As the ancients often said: when parents are alive, do not travel far. “No more thinking about it,” I told myself and lit a cigarette.
I had just taken a puff when the train conductor approached me and said, "Comrade, smoking is not allowed in this carriage."
I extinguished the cigarette and quietly gazed out the window at the scenery.
After a day of sightseeing on the train, I finally arrived in Changsha, Hunan, early the next morning.
As I stepped off the train onto the platform, I saw someone waving at me, calling my name: "Old Sun, over here!"
Fat Ma strode over with purpose.
It had been several months since we last met, and Fat Ma was still wearing a military uniform, though it was no longer the old one.
If you asked him why he loved wearing military attire so much, he would say it was due to his revolutionary sentiments.
Fat Ma laughed heartily as he took my luggage from my hands and offered me a cigarette, asking, "Now that you're in the hometown of the Great Leader, what are your thoughts?"
I thought for a moment and replied, "Changsha is really damn hot!"
After saying that, we both burst into laughter.
Fat Ma insisted on treating me to a welcome meal and found a decent restaurant.
Once seated, I leaned back in my chair and asked, "Fat Ma, why did you call me all the way out here? Is there something urgent?"
Fat Ma chuckled a few times and said, "It's good news."
I responded, "Stop messing around."
At that moment, the waiter happened to bring out the dishes.
Fat Ma poured me a glass of wine and said, "This is from our Hunan province, Liuyang River, a fine drink."
I took a sip, and the strong flavor surged to my heart, a bit burning; I rarely drank white liquor.
Seeing my slightly flushed face, Fat Ma remarked, "It's good wine, isn't it?"
I felt a bit embarrassed but nodded. Suddenly remembering the matter at hand, I said, "Fat Ma, it's been a few months since we last met, and you've become quite the smooth talker. Don't change the subject."
Only then did Fat Ma ponder for a moment before saying, "Old Sun, I won't hide it from you any longer. There's a big deal in the works!"
I didn’t respond but waited for him to continue.
Fat Ma raised a finger and whispered, "If it succeeds, this is the amount."
"How much?" I asked.
"One million," Fat Ma's voice dropped even lower.
One million. I repeated it in my mind. Then I said, "We won't be at a loss in this business, right?" I was aware that if we discovered a significant tomb, the treasures inside would be worth far more than that.
Fat Ma shook his head. "No, they only want one specific item from inside; the rest belongs to us. They just want us as partners in this venture, and after it's done, they'll give us one million."
Hearing this made me feel that this deal was indeed feasible.
But I hadn’t expressed my decision yet. Fat Ma stared at me, waiting for my response.
"Old Sun, have you made up your mind?" Fat Ma urged.
Finally, I steeled myself and said, "Alright, let's do it."
"Good job, Old Sun!" Fat Ma praised me.
In our line of work, sometimes it feels like living on the edge, licking blood off a knife's edge.
I asked Fat Ma for a specific time, and he said to wait for the notification. I could only remain silent.
After a few rounds of drinks, the deal was settled, and Fat Ma took me to his place of business.
Fat Ma had opened an antique shop in Changsha. He claimed it was for a living, but he was the type who would fish for three days and dry his nets for two. There's a saying in this trade: "If you don't open for three years, when you do open, you'll eat for three years."
Thus, with Fat Ma's lazy attitude, this line of work was really all he could manage.
The next morning when I woke up, Fat Ma told me, "The clay figurine will arrive in the afternoon."
Still half-asleep, I didn't quite register what he said. "You mean the clay figurine?" I asked.
Fat Ma replied, "Did you forget?"
I immediately responded, "How could I? That guy will never be forgotten in this lifetime."
I thought Fat Ma's decision was quite wise; that clay figurine fellow had some serious skills.
With him around, there would at least be an extra layer of assurance.
We didn't know exactly when he would arrive, so we planned to pick him up at the train station.
After lunch, we headed straight to the train station. As we waited there, I had to say that the weather in Changsha was particularly hot that day, compounded by the huge crowd making it feel even more cramped.
In the end, I ended up wearing only one piece of clothing while watching Fat Ma squat beside me like a mountain, completely still. I really couldn't figure out how he managed that.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and asked, "Fat Ma, do you still remember what the clay figurine looks like?"
As soon as I asked, Fat Ma wanted to respond immediately but hesitated. Seeing me laugh, he quickly shot back, "What about you? Do you remember?"
"I’m just as stumped," Fat Ma said, and then he started laughing too when he saw I couldn't answer.
"So what do we do now?" My question made Fat Ma's laughter abruptly stop.
"Damn it, how could I forget about this," Fat Ma cursed.
At that moment, the sound of the train grew louder; it was approaching the station.
Fat Ma cursed again, "Can a living person really die from holding in their pee? Wait here; I’ll go grab something."
Before long, Fat Ma returned with a sign that read "Clay Figurine" in big letters. He held it up proudly, grinning as if to say, "Aren't I clever?"
I couldn’t be bothered with him. The train arrived at the station, and people poured out, pushing me and Fat Ma backward.
Yet Fat Ma still held his sign high. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder from behind…
Fat Ma whipped around and shouted, "You dare mess with me? Don’t you know whose turf this is?"
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