Chapter 27: The Dream

At that moment, it seemed the wind had picked up over the river.

The breeze slipped between the corpses, carrying with it the unmistakable stench of the Dead Sinker.

It was far more pungent than the fragrance of ripened rice.

Li Zhuiyuan stood for a long time, even walking over to the head of the bed, bracing himself against the rail to look.

He had no idea how much longer this dream would last, nor did he seem to have a way to wake up from it on his own.

Still…

Li Zhuiyuan sat down on the bed, straightened the disheveled thin quilt, folded it neatly, then lay back down and pulled it over his stomach.

Mm.

He was going back to sleep.

…

“Mm…”

Li Zhuiyuan opened his eyes. Morning had already broken outside.

He knew he was truly awake now.

That sleep had been incredibly restful—his mind felt clear, his spirits high.

Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t help but wonder: could sleeping inside a dream count as true deep sleep?

If that were the case, then dreams like the one he’d had last night weren’t something he’d mind—in fact, he might even grow fond of them.

After all, no matter how terrifying a nightmare, one could get used to it with enough repetition.

Looking down, he found that the black cords around his neck, wrists, and ankles had snapped on their own.

Great-grandpa had said they could be cut off in the morning—it probably wasn’t anything serious.

He got out of bed and walked to the door. Before opening it, Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes and began taking deep breaths.

It was a habit he’d picked up from his mom, who would often stand in front of the bathroom mirror each morning, breathing deeply with effort.

Even now, Li Zhuiyuan didn’t quite understand the purpose of it.

But when he opened the door and felt the warm sunlight spill over him, a smile crept across his face—as though all the darkness from the night before had vanished in an instant.

He picked up his washbasin and toothbrush cup, headed over to the terrace, and began washing up.

“Little Yuan, come down for breakfast when you’re done,” Aunt Liu called from the dam.

“Okay, Aunt Liu.”

Li Zhuiyuan came downstairs. This time, the little wooden stool wasn’t inside—it had been set up outside on the dam.

On the stool was a bowl of plain porridge, a salted duck egg, a dish of pickled eggplant, and a plate of preserved ginger.

“There’s more porridge in the pot. Want me to get you another duck egg?”

“This is plenty. Thank you, Aunt Liu.”

“What are you thanking me for? This is my job.”

Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t help but wonder how much Great-grandpa was paying Aunt Liu.

Then again, he figured Great-grandpa could afford it. Despite living “extravagantly,” his income was high, and more importantly, he had no children and didn’t save money—he spent whatever he earned.

“Aunt Liu, has Great-grandpa gone out?”

“No, probably still sleeping.”

“Oh.”

Li Zhuiyuan started eating. He tapped the duck egg’s narrow end against the stool, cracked it open along the seam, then held it in one hand while picking at it with the tip of his chopsticks.

As he neared the end of his meal, he noticed a similar setup—wooden stool and small bench—placed about twenty meters away on the eastern end of the dam, also with porridge and pickles.

The little girl he had seen yesterday was led out by her grandmother and sat down.

Today she wore a purple qipao, far more conservative than the one Little Oriole had worn, and the embroidery on hers was even more intricate and ornate.

She had also changed her hairstyle, now adorned with a wooden hairpin.

Such refined dressing was rare in the countryside—especially in summer, when most boys ran around the village in nothing but briefs.

Aunt Liu brought out another set of stool and bench, this time with a tea set placed on it. She leaned down to speak with the old woman, who waved her away. Aunt Liu left.

The old woman crouched in front of the girl, whispering gently to her.

The girl sat there, her gaze fixed straight ahead, just like yesterday—it was as if no one else existed in her eyes.

Still, the old woman’s coaxing seemed to work. The girl finally lowered her head, picked up her chopsticks, and began to eat.

Li Zhuiyuan noticed her rhythm: one bite of pickles, two sips of porridge; then again, one bite of pickles, two sips of porridge. The pace never changed.

When the old woman peeled a salted duck egg and tried to hand it to her, the girl froze. Her body seemed to tremble slightly.

The old woman immediately apologized and pulled the egg away.

Only then did the girl resume eating—one bite of pickles, two sips of porridge.

Watching this unfold, Li Zhuiyuan was reminded of a boy who had sat next to him in the accelerated youth class. That boy also ate like this—he would divide his food carefully, calculating exactly how many bites of vegetables with how much rice, so that by the end, everything would be finished in perfect proportion.

Not only that, he would only step on the corners of the floor tiles when walking out of the classroom. If he ever stepped wrong, he would go all the way back and start over—even if he had to go to the bathroom, he would hold it.

The girl ate quickly. When she finished, she set down her chopsticks.

The old woman took out a handkerchief and gently wiped her mouth and fingers.

Then, she stood up, picked up the bench, and walked back into the eastern room.

She placed the bench back in the same spot, sat down, her feet resting on the threshold, eyes fixed ahead.

The old woman gave her a resigned glance, then sat in a nearby chair.

Li Zhuiyuan felt her gaze shift back to him—unlike yesterday, this time she raised a hand and beckoned him over.

“Come here, let me have a look.”

Li Zhuiyuan walked over. As he got closer, he seemed to catch a faint scent of incense from her.

“Hello, Granny.”

“Your name’s Little Yuan, right?”

“Mm, Li Zhuiyuan.”

“Granny’s surname is Liu.”

“Granny Liu.”

“Good boy. Since you’ve moved here, this is the first time I’ve seen another child around. Heh.” Liu Yumei raised her wrist, glanced at her bracelet, hesitated for a moment, then seemed to think it wasn’t appropriate. She finally removed a jade thumb ring from her ring finger and held it out to him. “Here, a little welcome gift from Granny.”

Li Zhuiyuan waved his hand. “I can’t accept that, Granny Liu—it’s too valuable.”

“It’s fake, just glass. A toy.”

“No, I really can’t.”

Liu Yumei extended her hand further, gently insisting, “When an elder gives you something, it’s rude to refuse.”

Li Zhuiyuan stepped back half a step, not reaching out, and said, “I’ll have to ask my Great-grandpa first.”

Liu Yumei nodded, slipped the ring into her pocket, and didn’t put it back on.

“Little Yuan, what grade are you in?”

“Third.”

“How are your grades?”

“Okay.”

“How old are you?”

“Ten.”

“Which month?”

“August.”

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