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墨書 Inktalez
"Fat Ma," the words interrupted my thoughts as I followed the direction of the finger pointing.
The Mud Man leaned in closer and said, "Fat Ma, you're talking nonsense again. Your face is so blurred now, how could you have seen anything!"
I stared intently, but I didn't feel the same way the Fat Ma described.
The only woman in the photo was wearing a qipao, her features completely unrecognizable.
Fat Ma mumbled a couple of phrases and then dismissed it.
"Hey! It seems like there are more than ten people in this photo!" the Mud Man suddenly exclaimed.
I hadn't noticed before, but upon counting, there were indeed eleven people—ten men and one woman. The extra person clearly seemed out of place.
The photo was taken quickly, capturing him unexpectedly.
I didn't pay much attention to it; my curiosity was entirely consumed by my father's photograph. I silently resolved that the next time I saw him, I would definitely ask for clarification.
At that moment, my gaze inadvertently swept across the photo again, and when I saw that woman, I froze for a moment but quickly regained my composure.
I collected my thoughts and asked if they wanted to look at it any longer.
They shook their heads, so I folded the newspaper neatly and put it away.
On the third day in Dujiangyan City, we visited the Dujiangyan Dam. The dream I had that night resurfaced in my mind.
At that moment, Li Bing and his son were standing in the same spot where I was.
Now, the Dujiangyan Dam has stood for over two thousand years, still serving its purpose as a water conservancy project, truly a remarkable achievement.
Thinking back to just a few days ago when we were underwater in the Min River, I couldn't help but feel that this ancient dam holds too many mysteries.
I sighed softly.
The day after our visit to Dujiangyan, we took a train away from here, first heading to Changsha, where Fat Ma's old den was located.
Changsha felt quite desolate.
Fat Ma muttered, "It's all because of the Revolution."
I stopped Fat Ma from speaking carelessly; in this era, trouble often comes from loose lips.
Fat Ma closed his mouth and went to buy a pack of cigarettes.
Then he quickly returned home.
Due to the special circumstances of the time, business had become difficult, but many merchants were still struggling to hold on. Fat Ma's line of work spared him from external troubles.
After Fat Ma pushed open the door, he plopped down and lit a cigarette. The Mud Man pulled out a cigarette from Fat Ma's military uniform pocket.
I reminded him, "Don't smoke recklessly; otherwise, you'll blame us for leading you astray."
The Mud Man hesitated for a moment and then laughed, "Smoking one occasionally won't hurt!"
In the evening, Fat Ma, as the host, took us out for a meal and insisted that we stay here for ten days or half a month.
After three days, I began to miss my grandfather at home, and I was eager to resolve the doubts in my heart. So, I bid farewell to Fat Ma.
It didn’t matter to me; after all, I was alone, and it was the same wherever I went, so I hadn’t planned on leaving.
Upon hearing this news, Fat Ma started calculating the living and accommodation expenses.
I cursed him lightly, and Fat Ma laughed heartily, saying, "Don't worry! We have a bond that goes beyond life and death. I wouldn't ask you for money!"
I replied, "That's more like it."
They accompanied me to the train station, and just before I left, Fat Ma slipped a package into my hands.
When I opened it at the train station, I found a thick stack of money inside. I quickly tucked it away, relieved that no one saw me; otherwise, I would surely have been mistaken for a capitalist and arrested. I muttered under my breath, "That Fat Ma."
With the clattering sound of the train, I returned home as night fell.
As I entered the door, my grandfather was lying in the yard enjoying the cool evening breeze.
I called out to him, and he quickly got up, waving a large fan in his hand.
"Liangliang, you're back!" My grandfather said with a slight tremor in his voice.
I responded with a simple "Hmm," replying, "I'm back, Grandpa!"
He stood up to greet me; it had been over half a month since I last mentioned going to Hunan.
"Have you eaten yet?" my grandfather asked me with concern.
I shook my head and replied, "Not yet!"
"Then I'll make something for you now, just wait." After saying that, my grandfather turned and went into the kitchen.
I set my luggage down and walked into the kitchen to help him prepare the meal. Once the dishes were served on the dining table, steam rose from them.
My grandfather smiled with his eyes, urging me to eat quickly so it wouldn't get cold.
I nodded, feeling warmth in my heart, and began to eat heartily.
My grandfather had raised me like a parent since I was little, and I held deep feelings for him.
After finishing the meal, my grandfather took me outside to enjoy the cool breeze. He asked me, "Was your trip smooth this time?"
I nodded and shared some interesting stories with him.
He listened, laughing heartily.
Suddenly, he stopped laughing and asked me, "Did you happen to see your father while you were out?"
I froze for a moment, thinking of the father in the photograph, but in the end, I shook my head and said I hadn't seen him. "Next time I go out, I will definitely look for Dad," I told my grandfather.
Although a hint of disappointment flashed across his face, he quickly smiled again and said, "It's okay!" He then shared many amusing stories about my father's childhood, reminiscing with a childlike smile.
Eventually, I couldn't help but ask my grandfather, "What kind of work did Dad do when he grew up?"
Grandfather's smile immediately faded, his expression stiffening. After a moment, he said, "Let's not mention it; that unfilial child."
Seeing Grandfather so angry, I dared not ask further.
He turned to me and said, "Liangliang, you've been on the road and must be tired. Go rest for now!"
I nodded in response, but I suddenly felt that Grandfather was avoiding something. After returning to my room, I tossed and turned for a long time before finally falling asleep.
The next day, I slept until the sun was high in the sky. When I got up, I noticed that Grandfather's face looked somewhat troubled.
From then on, I rarely brought up my father in front of Grandfather unless he mentioned it himself.
I stayed at home like this for several years. During that time, I also worked outside. These years saw significant changes in China, and things were nearing their conclusion.
It wasn't until 1979 that China announced its opening to the outside world, and the market began to normalize. Later, I tried to start a business, but it ended up losing money.
We gathered a few times during this period. Fat Ma even teased me, calling me a spendthrift and suggesting that I should change careers to do the same business as him; he promised I wouldn't lose out. I couldn't be bothered to respond.
Years flew by in the blink of an eye.
One day, just like any other, I was at home when the postman shouted from outside, "Sun Liangtu, you have a package!"
I rushed to the door to sign for it. The postman handed me a cardboard box. After thanking him, I went back inside.
I looked at the postal slip and guessed it was from Fat Ma; after all these years, I hadn't made any other friends.
However, when I examined the slip more closely, I was puzzled to find that there was no address or sender's name listed.
I looked at the cardboard box, feeling puzzled. Could it be a mistake? I checked the name on the order again, and it was correct—my name, Sun Liangtu.
Staring at the box, I felt a sense of unease.
But I opened it anyway. Inside was a photograph pressed against a piece of letter paper and a map. The photo was of someone’s back.
I hesitated for a moment. Did a photo, a letter, and a map really need a whole box?
After gathering my thoughts, I picked up the photo. When I saw the person in it, my heart sank; it was Hills.
I stared at the half-body shot of Hills, with a red cloth in the background—it looked like an ID photo. I slowly set the picture down.
My hands were trembling as I picked up the letter. It contained only a few words: If you want to see her, come to Xing'an Ridge!
I hurried outside and called Fat Ma, telling him I was heading to Changsha and to wait for me at home without going out. Then I quickly said goodbye to my grandfather.
He reminded me, "Be safe out there!"
I nodded, packed a few clothes, took some money, and stuffed the letter and photo into my pocket. I rushed to the train station, bought my ticket, and headed south straight to Changsha.
When Fat Ma saw me get off the train, he complained, "You didn’t even give me a specific time! I've been waiting here for four or five minutes!"
I replied urgently, "Let’s talk at home."
Once we got home, I showed him what I had.
Fat Ma immediately erupted in anger. "Which bastard dares to kidnap my Hilly Big Sister! This is asking for death! Old Sun, don’t panic; let me get ready and then we’ll head to Xing'an Ridge."
"Fat Ma," he said, "has really gotten serious; he truly sees Hills as a sister."
I asked, "What about the clay figurine?"
"That kid said he went home to pay respects to his deceased master!" Fat Ma replied.
I responded with an "oh," and Fat Ma continued, "I could tell something was off in your tone during the call." He would be arriving in a couple of days.
"We can't wait! Fatty, tell him to head straight to Xing'an Ridge!" I insisted.
Fat Ma acknowledged and walked out.
Now I was left alone, pondering that this might be a trap set by someone. But why would Hills get involved?
As I thought about it, memories from a few years ago surfaced when I was in the countryside. The impression Hills left on me at that time seemed to hint at some unseen connection now.
And then there was the last time, in the underwater wreck...
Just then, Fat Ma burst back in, interrupting my thoughts. "Old Sun, everything is ready!"
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