water.”
“I appreciate your offer, but you don’t have to worry,” she said, shaking her head.
He also shook his head, resolutely.
They remained sitting like that for a long while, not speaking, her feet still in his hands.
The sampan man began to exert himself, looking over his shoulder from time to time.
The center’s fence at the foot of the hill came into view.
“Pull over,” Chen said, “we want to get off here.”
“Here?” the sampan man repeated, not seeing a dock or an entrance.
Chen had him row the sampan over to something like a landing near the concealed door in the fence.
“I know a shortcut. We can get in through there,” he said and paid the sampan man generously. “It’s for the full day, as we agreed, plus fifty for the boat meal and a tip for the boat songs. Is that enough?”
“More than enough, sir. Thank you so much. But you’re from the center, so it’s little wonder. Sorry that I was so blind as not to recognize Mount Tai.”
It was an old proverb, often used to describe one’s failure to recognize people of high status or importance.
Chen helped Shanshan to the shore and carried her shoes, which she didn’t immediately put back on. The ground was gritty against her bare soles, and she leaned slightly against his shoulder for a minute. He pointed at the villa glittering in the afternoon sunlight.
“That’s where I am staying.”
“Oh, that looks like a villa.”
“Yes, let’s go there. You can wash your feet and we can have a drink.”
“No, not today,” she said, looking down at her feet. “What a sight I would be for your high-cadre center.”
“In classical Chinese literature, there is an expression about ‘walking lotus flowers,’ which refers to a beauty walking barefoot. So what’s wrong with that?”
“You’re being sarcastic again,” she said. “No, definitely not. I don’t want to make a mess of your room.”
“As it is, it’s already a mess.”
“Well, some other day. I’ll keep your invitation in mind and take a rain check.”
“Yes, do keep it in mind. When you come, if you come through the main entrance, make a right turn at the first crossing, and you’ll see the white villa. It’s a freestanding one. Number 3A. You can’t miss it. At night, you can see its green-shaded windows against the shimmering expanse of the lake.”
“I wish I could say something similar about my room, my dorm room. It’s number 3B, but that’s the only resemblance. It’s as small as a piece of tofu and no one in the center would care to see it.”
“Why not?” he said. “I’ll take a rain check.”
They arrived at the fence door and she took the shoes from his hands, yet still didn’t put them on.
“Thanks for everything, Chen.”
“Thank you, Shanshan.”
Standing at the door, he watched her walk barefoot along the road, turn as she took out her cell phone and shut it off, and then hasten away.
SEVEN
THERE’S NOTHING TOO SURPRISING about Chief Inspector Chen, Sergeant Huang recalled Detective Yu saying. Waiting under a tall tree near the back exit of the park, Huang contemplated that statement.
He couldn’t help taking another look at the entrance to the center, which still seemed mysterious, almost forbidden, to a local like Huang.
He had been surprised by Chen’s request for help for Shanshan. Was it all because of something mentioned by Comrade Secretary Zhao? It was said that the romantic chief inspector had a way with women, and he had only been in Wuxi for two or three days. There was no telling what Chen was really up to, what with his connections in Beijing. He could have been dispatched here for something highly secretive. In that case, Shanshan might be involved in a way far beyond what a low-level cop like Huang could fathom.
She had been released, but Internal Security, while shifting their focus to Jiang, made a point of keeping her on their radar. And new information about the situation between her and Liu only
“I appreciate your offer, but you don’t have to worry,” she said, shaking her head.
He also shook his head, resolutely.
They remained sitting like that for a long while, not speaking, her feet still in his hands.
The sampan man began to exert himself, looking over his shoulder from time to time.
The center’s fence at the foot of the hill came into view.
“Pull over,” Chen said, “we want to get off here.”
“Here?” the sampan man repeated, not seeing a dock or an entrance.
Chen had him row the sampan over to something like a landing near the concealed door in the fence.
“I know a shortcut. We can get in through there,” he said and paid the sampan man generously. “It’s for the full day, as we agreed, plus fifty for the boat meal and a tip for the boat songs. Is that enough?”
“More than enough, sir. Thank you so much. But you’re from the center, so it’s little wonder. Sorry that I was so blind as not to recognize Mount Tai.”
It was an old proverb, often used to describe one’s failure to recognize people of high status or importance.
Chen helped Shanshan to the shore and carried her shoes, which she didn’t immediately put back on. The ground was gritty against her bare soles, and she leaned slightly against his shoulder for a minute. He pointed at the villa glittering in the afternoon sunlight.
“That’s where I am staying.”
“Oh, that looks like a villa.”
“Yes, let’s go there. You can wash your feet and we can have a drink.”
“No, not today,” she said, looking down at her feet. “What a sight I would be for your high-cadre center.”
“In classical Chinese literature, there is an expression about ‘walking lotus flowers,’ which refers to a beauty walking barefoot. So what’s wrong with that?”
“You’re being sarcastic again,” she said. “No, definitely not. I don’t want to make a mess of your room.”
“As it is, it’s already a mess.”
“Well, some other day. I’ll keep your invitation in mind and take a rain check.”
“Yes, do keep it in mind. When you come, if you come through the main entrance, make a right turn at the first crossing, and you’ll see the white villa. It’s a freestanding one. Number 3A. You can’t miss it. At night, you can see its green-shaded windows against the shimmering expanse of the lake.”
“I wish I could say something similar about my room, my dorm room. It’s number 3B, but that’s the only resemblance. It’s as small as a piece of tofu and no one in the center would care to see it.”
“Why not?” he said. “I’ll take a rain check.”
They arrived at the fence door and she took the shoes from his hands, yet still didn’t put them on.
“Thanks for everything, Chen.”
“Thank you, Shanshan.”
Standing at the door, he watched her walk barefoot along the road, turn as she took out her cell phone and shut it off, and then hasten away.
SEVEN
THERE’S NOTHING TOO SURPRISING about Chief Inspector Chen, Sergeant Huang recalled Detective Yu saying. Waiting under a tall tree near the back exit of the park, Huang contemplated that statement.
He couldn’t help taking another look at the entrance to the center, which still seemed mysterious, almost forbidden, to a local like Huang.
He had been surprised by Chen’s request for help for Shanshan. Was it all because of something mentioned by Comrade Secretary Zhao? It was said that the romantic chief inspector had a way with women, and he had only been in Wuxi for two or three days. There was no telling what Chen was really up to, what with his connections in Beijing. He could have been dispatched here for something highly secretive. In that case, Shanshan might be involved in a way far beyond what a low-level cop like Huang could fathom.
She had been released, but Internal Security, while shifting their focus to Jiang, made a point of keeping her on their radar. And new information about the situation between her and Liu only
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