The Blade of Silence (Fang Mu Eastern Crimes Series Book 3)

by Mi Lei

  As he looked back up, he noticed that the youth was staring at his phone.

  "Yes?" Fang Mu asked, unsure what to make of his gaze.

  With a smile, the young man pointed from his phone to Fang Mu's. "We have the same brand."

  Amused by his enthusiasm, Fang Mu returned the smile. "Hm, but yours sure costs more."

  "Yep," the youth noted cheekily. "I had them get me the most expensive one." He paused in an attempt at drama. "A Japanese model."

  "But Nokia is not a Japanese brand." It was just too easy of an opening for Fang Mu to ignore.

  "Eh?" The youth curled his lips as he raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Aren't Japanese products the best?"

  "They might well be, but Nokias are from Finland," Fang Mu explained.

  "From where? Well, who cares, right? As long as it's the most expensive one." He smiled broadly and waved the issue aside. A moment later, he was again fully engrossed in his cell phone. His engrossment with the gadget was only broken by an occasional contented smile.

  When the food cart came by, the youth eagerly picked out a couple of beer cans, a large pile of pig's feet, fried chicken, and a few other items. As he stacked the table full of food, he graciously invited Fang Mu to join him, but Fang Mu politely declined. The young man didn't insist and enthusiastically dug in. The food was not exactly fresh and before long a pained expression appeared on the youth's face, then he farted loudly. All around the train car, revolted passengers covered their noses in disgust. The young man's face had turned a bright shade of red as he rummaged through his pockets for something to use as tissue for the paperless train toilets. Coming up empty-handed, he clutched his belly and with a loud moan sunk back into his seat.

  Feeling sorry for him, Fang Mu passed him a tissue. With a quick, "Thank you," the youth bolted off toward the toilets.

  The lingering foul smell he left behind soon drove Fang Mu from his seat. He walked down the train car and into the vestibule. Free of the stench, he took out a cigarette. He was just lighting up when the young man returned to his seat. There was a look of obvious relief on the youth's face. The moment he spotted Fang Mu smoking, he hurried through his bag to get a pack of Chunghwas. He offered one to Fang Mu when he joined him, a big smile on his face. When Fang Mu saw the expensive cigarette in the youth's unwashed hands, he firmly declined. The young man's face dropped in dejection.

  Fang Mu had no interest in giving further offense, so he made an excuse. "I'm used to these; I don't think I could deal with premium smokes."

  The smug look of self-satisfaction returned to the youth's face as he took the Chunghwa for himself. He clapped Fang Mu's shoulder and said encouragingly, "Live a little, Eldest Brother. Don't be so cheap; smoke good cigarettes."

  Fang Mu mhmed and uh-huhed his agreement. Under the cover of a flick of the cigarette, he shook off the youth's hand.

  As the young man babbled away, Fang Mu discovered that he was not only crude, but also exceedingly naïve. Nonetheless, he did learn something from their conversation: The youth's name was Lu Haitao; he was 20-year-old and from a place called Lu Village, a small community in the Dragon Tail Township near Suijing City.

  They idly continued to chat about nothing in particular for a while. Seeing the harvested fields passing outside the window, Fang Mu asked, "Was it a good harvest for your village?"

  "Hey, we aren't peasants. There's no future in farming." Lu Haitao sounded almost offended.

  Fang Mu took another look at the expensive apparel adorning every part of the young man's body. This boy's father wouldn't be the village head, he decided. All the brand marks he wore were emblems of new money, not old privilege.

  Back in their seats, Lu Haitao picked up his cell phone and started playing with it again. As he fiddled around with the device, a loud hmm escaped him. Stumped, he whipped out the phone's manual. He looked up from the paper, at the phone, and back again. After a minute of this, he seemed none-the-wiser and so decided to show Fang Mu the phone. Quietly he asked, "Eldest Brother, what is this supposed to mean?"

  Fang Mu took the phone and was immediately able to explain. "Ah, it's the Bluetooth indicator."

  "The what-tooth now?" Lu Haitao was completely out of his depth.

  "Bluetooth," Fang Mu patiently explained. "Bluetooth can connect two devices so they can exchange documents and other data."

  Lu Haitao thought for a second, and then almost shouted, "Like some transmitter?"

  Fang Mu smiled. "Yes, almost like that."

  Lu Haitao was instantly excited. "Eldest Brother, that sounds like fun. Send me something. I wanna see."

  His enthusiastic request left Fang Mu at a loss. He had neither music nor movies on his phone. What was he supposed to send the kid? Then an idea struck him and he set up his phone for the transfer.

  A few seconds later, Lu Haotai's cell phone chimed a notification. Looking down at the screen he readout, Receive message via Bluetooth from paired device 'Fang Mu's cell phone'?

  "Good, just press 'Yes'," Fang Mu instructed.

  In the blink of an eye, the file had been transferred to Lu Haotai's phone. The young man opened it with obvious excitement; it was the picture of a girl.

  "Who is that, Eldest Brother? Your daughter?" he asked.

  "No," Fang Mu said as he leaned in closer. "She's another Lu; maybe from your village?"

  "Now that you mention it, she does look rather familiar," Lu Haitao replied, carefully studying the picture. "But I can't remember where I would have seen her."

  "Oh? Have another look then," Fang Mu urged. "Any ideas?"

  The young man looked again, but after a while shook his head. "Sorry, Eldest Brother, no idea."

  Fang Mu couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. The youth's enthusiasm on the other hand was undiminished. He insisted that he just had to send Fang Mu this one song. Fang Mu accepted the message and opened the song. It was called Two Butterflies. He deleted it immediately.

  Another hour later, the train pulled into Suijing City Train Station. Fang Mu and Lu Haitao got off the train together. The young man had yet to stop babbling. Hoping to get rid of him, Fang Mu picked up his pace. He was just at the exit when he noticed that he could no longer hear the Lu Haitao's constant chatter. He looked over his shoulder, but the young man had vanished without a trace. He was about to wonder where he could have gone when he was caught in a group of bustling peasants. In their midst, Fang Mu was swept away and out of the train station.

  As a first order of business, Fang Mu made his way straight to the nearest public security office. There he got hold of the local register and checked for any girl named Lu Lu in the area. He came up empty-handed. Apparently, Lu Lu was not a permanent resident of Suijing City after all. It was another disappointment, but Fang Mu didn't let himself get discouraged. He headed from the public security office to the coach station.

  Lu Haitao had seemed to recognize Lu Lu and the two shared a surname; perhaps it was more than a coincidence. In any case, he would try his luck in Lu Village.

  At the coach station Fang Mu bought a map of Suijing City and its environs, but even after a careful study he was unable to find Lu Village on it. He pulled out his cell phone and hesitantly opened his contacts list. After some deliberating, he finally decided against calling anyone in the Suijing City Municipal Bureau. He was confident Deputy Commissioner Wang or Deputy Captain Xu Tong would have gladly helped him, but the fewer people who knew about this, the better.

  Fang Mu was all too aware that he was growing ever more paranoid, but unfortunately, no other alternative felt more reasonable. For a while he considered abandoning Lu Village for the moment, but after weighing all his options, he decided to go ahead and board the bus to Dragon Tail Township.

  An hour more of being jostled up the bumpy country highway, the bus stopped at the roadside near the foot of the mountain. An old man selling local wares was happy to provide Fang Mu with directions to Lu Village.

  The sun had already begun its slow
descent behind the mountain as Fang Mu set out in the direction he had been pointed. After about a third of a mile he reached the end of the highway. Everything up ahead was winding, narrow mountain road; actually, the term road was probably even too generous. It was little more than a path climbing up between the rock faces. The old man had told him that to get to Lu Village he would have to climb the Dragon Tail. Legend had it, he said, that in ancient times a dragon had been cast out of heaven. It had struck the mortal world face first, leaving only its tail exposed above the surface and so creating the mountain now known as the Dragon Tail. Unfortunately for Fang Mu, Lu Village was in a valley on the other side of that mountain.

  He hurried up the trail, paying no attention to the stark mountain vistas he passed at every turn. At first it was easy enough to make out the path, but as the sky darkened everything around him seemed to blur together. Disoriented, he walked back and forth and in circles, but in the end he had to admit that he was truly lost.

  He dropped his heavy backpack and rested his back against a large boulder. After he had caught his breath, he pulled out a cigarette and had a smoke. It looked like he would have to camp under the open sky. Once he was done with his cigarette, he climbed on top of the boulder to get a better idea of the lay of the land. Truth be told, it was not the only reason he was seeking higher ground; A small nagging voice at the back of his head couldn't stop wondering if wolves or worse made this forsaken wilderness their home. As he nervously scanned the horizon, he discovered something far more pleasant: There were lights, probably flashlights, close by. Someone was out there.

  Without hesitation, Fang Mu jumped down, grabbed his backpack and ran toward the lights. He pushed his way through the thick undergrowth and soon came upon a wide, open area. In the middle of the field he could see a large shape in the darkness. At a second glance, he realized it was a truck. Two people were squatting next to the vehicle, doing something he couldn't quite make out.

  Fang Mu walked over to them, shouting. "Hey!"

  Their reaction came as a complete surprise. Panicking, one lost his footing and landed solidly on his behind. The other one, no less startled, spun around and pointed something straight at Fang Mu.

  Just as startled, Fang Mu realized that his entrance had probably been a bit too sudden. After all, they were in the middle of nowhere. He slowed down and called out, "Don't be alarmed. I mean no harm."

  "Who are you?" the man sitting on the ground shouted back. Fang Mu could hear him exhale loudly. "You scared me half to death." The other man remained silent and continued to carefully watch every move Fang Mu made.

  "I'm lost." Fang Mu slowly approached the truck. "What are you doing here?" He saw that the truck's hood was open and that the ground was littered with tools. "Your truck break down?"

  "Yeah," the man on the ground said as he rose to his feet. He was a short fellow with a frustrated scowl on his face. "Sucks."

  Fang Mu dropped his backpack and pulled up his sleeves. "I'll have a look." He had a rough understanding of truck mechanics, and after tinkering with the engine for a while, the vehicle actually started back up.

  The short man was pleasantly surprised and handed him a cigarette in thanks. Fang Mu accepted the smoke. It was a Chunghwa. He turned to the other man who was still holding what Fang Mu now saw was a large wrench. Smiling, Fang Mu asked, "What's up, brother? You still don't trust me?"

  A little embarrassed, the man put down his wrench and joined them for a cigarette.

  It was soon apparent that the small man was quite the talker and before long Fang Mu had learned that his name was Lu Sanqiang. The other man was called Lu Dachun. Both of them were from Lu Village.

  Looking at Fang Mu's backpack, Lu Sanqiang asked, "Elder Brother Fang, what exactly are you doing here?"

  "Oh, I'm with the Provincial Photographer's Association. I came here to get some shots to promote tourism in the area," Fang Mu lied adeptly. "But I got turned around one too many times on the mountain. And now I'm lost."

  "What kind of tourist would want to come here?" Lu Sanqiang seemed unconvinced. But before Fang Mu could answer, he slapped his forehead in understanding. "I know; you wanted to visit the Dragon Tail Cave, right?"

  "Yes, yes," Fang Mu hurried to agree, recalling his trip with Xiao Wang to that watery limestone underworld.

  "Then you really are lost." Lu Sanqiang laughed loud and hard. "That's on the other side of the mountain."

  "Shoot, what do I do now?" Fang Mu asked in feigned shock as he stared into the distance. "And around here..." He paused, pretending to be deep in thought. "But your village isn't far, right?"

  At first, Lu Sanqiang almost physically recoiled at the suggestion, but after exchanging a few quick glances with Lu Dachun, he reluctantly agreed. "All right, let's do it like this; we take you back to our village and first thing in the morning we give you a lift to Dragon Tail Cave. Yeah, we'll leave first thing in the morning."

  Fang Mu voiced his appreciation, and then picked up his backpack and got into the truck.

  The truck wound its way along the mountain path. Lu Sanqiang was driving, while Lu Dachun sat in the passenger seat and Fang Mu was squeezed in-between them. Lu Sanqiang had fallen suspiciously silent. Fang Mu would have liked to hear more from him, but all he got out of him was a few sullen and mumbled replies.

  The black of night deepened as they drove, swallowing everything outside the deathly pale beams of the truck's headlights. When they finally emerged from under the thick trees, Fang Mu was greeted by the moonlit, craggy peak of the Dragon Tail, rising up in the distance. As the truck approached, Fang Mu felt the entire weight of the massif press down on him. Somewhere deep inside, a nameless dread rose to meet it. They seemed to have entered an entirely different world. He realized that his forehead was covered in cold sweat. He scoffed at his own timidity and tried to collect himself. With a shallow sigh, he reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

  The moment Fang Mu's hand moved inside his jacket, Lu Dachun shouted, "What are you doing?"

  "Eh?" Fang Mu turned to him. "Looking for a smoke."

  "Take one." Lu Dachun thrust an unopened pack of Chunghwas at him.

  Fang Mu tore the plastic off the pack and pulled out a cigarette. He smiled as he lit it. "You're village is doing well, isn't it? Why else would you all smoke these expensive cigarettes?"

  Lu Dachun returned a forced smile, and then asked, "Do you know anyone else from our village?"

  Fang Mu hesitated, unsure of whether or not to tell them about Lu Haitao. Before he could make up his mind, he heard a loud thud from the trailer behind them. It sounded as if something was rolling around inside it.

  "Lu Sanqiang had a pack of Chunghwas, too," Fang Mu explained, quelling the alarm that had begun to creep onto Lu Dachun's face. "What are you transporting?" he added casually.

  Neither of the men answered for a long moment. It took a few seconds more for Lu Dachun to coldly reply, "Pork."

  With that, he turned on the radio and deafening dance music drowned out any chance for further communication.

  It was well past nine when the truck finally completed its bumpy journey. With the moon covered by clouds, only the truck's headlights offered fleeting glimpses of half-hidden houses and streets. From the looks of it, Lu Village was rather small. Fang Mu noticed that not a single window was lit. A few minutes later the truck stopped next to the village's ancestral hall.

  Lu Dachun told Fang Mu to wait in the driver's cabin before he got out of the truck. When he returned, he tersely instructed Lu Sanqiang, "Widow Cui's home."

  Lu Sanqiang grunted his acknowledgement and started the truck again.

  It was a quick trip from the ancestral hall to Widow Cui's home, a small tile-roofed house built with a modest courtyard. It all looked meticulously maintained and very tidy. They went inside. Widow Cui herself turned out to be a short, middle-aged woman with waxen skin. After Lu Dachun had explained the situation, she gave Fang Mu the once over.

  "My
apologies that you'll have to put up with a night in our village, young man," she said.

  Fang Mu quickly offered his part of the formalities, profusely apologizing for the inconvenience of his visit.

  Widow Cui listened impassively before offering in a monotone, "Do you want to eat? I can fix you something."

  Feeling his stomach grumble at the mention of food, Fang Mu quickly nodded.

  Widow Cui left for the kitchen and Lu Dachun stood up. "We'll take you to the Dragon Tail Cave at daybreak. Make sure you get up early." He then walked out, got into the truck, and rumbled off.

  Alone in the living room, Fang Mu took out a cigarette and began to smoke. He soon felt the sting of tired boredom and began to aimlessly scan his surroundings. As far as he could make out, the small home had been recently built. Beyond the general air of newness, it was the decorations and furnishings that caught Fang Mu's attention. All of it looked somewhat haphazard, but he had to admit that every piece on its own had a certain elegance to it; and clearly nothing there had come cheap.

  This was one well-off village.

  Widow Cui soon returned with a large serving tray almost completely covered in small plates and bowls. Staring at the opulent selection, Fang Mu couldn't help but feel distinctly apologetic. Widow Cui seemed oblivious to his astonishment and took a bottle of Wuliangye from the cabinet. The sinfully expensive liquor dangled loosely from her hand as she offered Fang Mu a drink. He quickly declined. There was something rather odd about the excess with which these people greeted their guests.

  Widow Cui did not insist and instead seated herself. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice Fang Mu at all as she flicked on her DVD player and started an episode of Princess Pearl. With a slight frown, Fang Mu watched the show's opening credits on the massive 45-inch Sony LCD TV – which should have been enormous for the simple village – that dominated one corner of the room.

  As Fang Mu ate, he could hear footsteps in the courtyard. Moments later, the door was pushed open by a man wearing a simple, cotton-padded coat.