Chapter 41.4: The Will

Secretary Jin brought in a large bowl containing a stewed chicken.

Ding Dalin poked at it with his chopsticks and asked, “Isn’t this supposed to be an old hen?”

“There were no old hens left.”

“Sigh, how can that be?”

Ding Dalin shook his head in dissatisfaction.

Li Sanjiang smoothed things over. “Linhou, you’ve been spoiled. You're making a fuss over whether the chicken is male or female. Back before Liberation, just getting a bite of meat wasn’t easy.”

Saying that, Li Sanjiang reached in himself, tore off a plump chicken leg, and placed it in Li Zhuiyuan’s bowl.

Li Zhuiyuan stared at it, not touching his chopsticks. It wasn’t that he was being squeamish—it’s just that this chicken looked strangely familiar.

The strange part was, even if it were a rooster in the stew, how did it end up without a single piece of chicken skin?

“What’s wrong? Don’t like it?” Ding Dalin asked.

“I do.” Li Zhuiyuan picked up the drumstick and took a big bite. A bit dry.

“How’s it taste?”

“Good.”

Ding Dalin nodded, satisfied. As he stood to grab some dishes, Li Zhuiyuan noticed a strip of black gauze tied around the base of his right thumb.

The meal proceeded in lively harmony, so normal it made Li Zhuiyuan feel like he was the odd one out at the table.

Still, for once, Li Zhuiyuan didn’t get up early like a child after finishing his meal. He remained seated properly until the end.

After dinner, everyone started smoking and chatting—making the usual small talk before breaking up.

The village chief stood first, dusting off his pants. “Let’s leave it at that for today. As for that land lease of yours, the village still needs to discuss it. Don’t worry, we’ll give you an answer soon.”

“Alright, thank you for the trouble.” Ding Dalin stood and shook his hand.

Everyone rose from the table and stepped out into the courtyard. They passed around cigarettes and chatted a bit more before the village chief and a few elders headed down the path.

Li Zhuiyuan grew anxious because Li Sanjiang hadn’t left. He still stood beside Ding Dalin, both men puffing on their cigarettes.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of the chief, but you’re leasing that land and not planting crops? Planning to grow peach trees instead?”

“Yeah, peach trees. They’ll bear peaches.”

“Who’s going to buy peaches? Back in the day, we had canneries that took them. Now I hear even those are going under.”

“Even if I can’t sell them, looking at peach blossoms is nice.”

“What’s gotten into you, Linhou?” Li Sanjiang reached out to touch Ding Dalin’s forehead. “Feels like you’re a different person today.”

Li Zhuiyuan’s heart clenched again.

Tan Wenbin jumped in, playing along. “Uncle Li, you don’t get it. Lord Ding is chasing beauty and meaning in life. Just imagine—this whole place covered in peach trees, blossoms everywhere in spring. Beautiful, right?”

“And the fish pond?” Li Sanjiang asked.

“Fill it in. Plant trees there too.”

“Tell me, Linhou, how much money did you really make overseas to waste it like this?”

“Isn’t making money just so you can waste it?”

“I can’t figure you out. Whatever, suit yourself.”

“Oh right, the opera troupe said one of their speakers broke and wanted me to pay for repairs. I couldn’t be bothered arguing, so I just bought the whole set second-hand.”

“Are you stupid? What kind of troupe asks the host to pay when their equipment breaks?”

“It was pretty cheap. I messed with it last night. Turns out it wasn’t even broken—just a loose plug. I fixed it already.

No use keeping it around. You’re in this line of work. Maybe you can rent it out to earn a bit.

Come on, take a look. If it works, you can haul it away.”

“Alright, let’s check it out.”

Li Sanjiang followed Ding Dalin into the shadowy back room on the ground floor. Li Zhuiyuan exchanged a glance with Tan Wenbin, debating whether to tag along.

“Little one, you forgot this.” Secretary Jin’s voice came from behind. She held the purple Bagua Compass out in front of him.

He’d left it by a chair on purpose earlier, not wanting to seem too eager.

Li Zhuiyuan reached out and took it, delighted. “You’re really giving this to me?”

“You know how to use it?”

“Of course I do.”

Li Zhuiyuan spun the compass in his hands, laughing as he watched the needle whirl.

“Secretary Jin, come over and tweak the settings,” Ding Dalin’s voice called from the room.

Secretary Jin rested both hands on Li Zhuiyuan’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s take a look.”

The moment her hands touched his shoulders, Li Zhuiyuan froze.

He didn’t move right away but slowly raised his head.

Secretary Jin lowered hers too, and their eyes met.

After a long moment, Ding Dalin called again from inside, “What’s taking so long? We’re waiting on you.”

“Let’s go.”

“Mm.”

Li Zhuiyuan walked ahead, Secretary Jin’s hands still on his shoulders.

The hallway was short, but to Li Zhuiyuan, it felt endless.

Finally, the two of them reached the room.

Secretary Jin let go, adjusted the speaker, and picked up the microphone:

“Hoo hoo… hello, hello…”

A bit scratchy, but it worked well overall.

Ding Dalin glanced at Li Sanjiang, then turned to Secretary Jin. “Come on, sing something.”

Secretary Jin nodded. “What should I sing?”

“Anything. Sanjianghou, what do you want to hear? My secretary knows tons of songs.”

“Heh, I don’t have your thick skin, requesting songs like some teenage girl. Little Yuanhou, what about you? What do you want to hear?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “I’m fine with anything.”

Secretary Jin looked at him. “Little one, pick something.”

“I don’t have a preference, Auntie. Sing whatever you want.”

She nodded, lifted the mic, and began singing a cappella:

“Looking back slowly, at the nights we once shared.

Still red, still you—the sunshine you gave my heart…”

The melody flowed gently, her Cantonese imperfect but hauntingly beautiful.

It was “A Thousand Songs” 《千千阕歌》.

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