Chapter 123

Chapter 123

Qin Song began taking the initiative to chat with Huahua, which surprised her.

“Brother Hai, you seem a lot more talkative than before. I used to be the one chasing you down to talk, and you couldn’t even be bothered with me.”

“The more we talk, the more familiar we’ll get, right?” Qin Song took out a packet of sunflower seeds and handed it to Huahua. “Here, have some.”

Huahua accepted it with a smile. “Thanks.”

Just then, the old gatekeeper called Qin Song.

Qin Song answered. “Uncle Li, what’s up?”

The old gatekeeper said, “Hai, there’s a package for you on my desk. Come pick it up, would you?”

Qin Song hung up and gave Huahua an apologetic smile. “I’m going to grab a package. I’ll come back and chat with you after.”

Huahua nodded as she tore open the packet of sunflower seeds. “Go on, go on.”

As Qin Song walked toward the entrance, he felt a quiet sense of puzzlement.

He never shopped online. When Li Juan bought things online, she always had them delivered to their home. Right now, the only person he had any contact with outside was Hu Heng, and Hu Heng basically came to visit him every two months with bags and boxes in hand. He had never mailed him anything.

So who would send him a package?

Qin Song entered the gatehouse. The old gatekeeper was listening to the radio, and the room was filled with a thick, choking smell of cigarette smoke.

Qin Song swallowed. The smell made him want to throw up.

He had once tried hard to overcome his fear of cigarettes and had attempted to light one a few times. But each time, the moment the smoke hit him in the face, he would start retching uncontrollably. In the end, he had simply given up completely.

Holding his breath, he asked, “Uncle, where’s my package?”

The old gatekeeper pointed at the desk. “Right here.”

Qin Song stepped closer and looked carefully. Only then did he realize that the “package” the old gatekeeper was talking about was a thin envelope. He had thought it would be a box.

He picked up the envelope and examined it over and over. There was no shipping label or any of the information a package should have. Written on it in black marker were only two large words:

Wang Hai.

Qin Song asked, “Uncle Li, when was this package delivered?”

The old gatekeeper shouted, “What?”

Qin Song pointed at the radio. “Turn the volume down first…”

The old gatekeeper nodded and turned off the radio. “What did you say just now?”

Qin Song said, “I asked, when was this package delivered?”

The old gatekeeper smiled awkwardly. “I just went to the bathroom. When I came back, this package was already sitting on the desk…”

Qin Song pinched the envelope between two fingers and walked out of the gatehouse. Standing by the road, he tore it open.

Inside was a folded sheet of white paper. There seemed to be drawings and words on it. Qin Song unfolded it carefully.

The moment he saw the words and images clearly, all the blood in Qin Song’s body seemed to freeze solid.

It was eleven in the morning. Sunlight spilled over him in abundance, yet he could not feel the slightest trace of warmth. From head to toe, he was chilled to the bone.

He folded the sheet of paper back along its original creases and stuffed it into the envelope.

When Qin Song returned to the hotel lobby in a daze, he saw Huahua sharing the sunflower seeds with the girl at the front desk.

Seeing Qin Song, Huahua stuck out her tongue. “Hehe, good things should be shared with everyone. Don’t mind me using your sunflower seeds to win people over, Brother Hai…”

Qin Song stared at her blankly. “Ah. Oh, sure.”

Huahua’s smile faded, and she asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Qin Song said, “I’m not eating.”

Huahua said, “I didn’t ask if you were eating.”

Qin Song said, “I’m feeling a little unwell.”

Huahua looked him carefully up and down, then pointed at his right hand. “Brother Hai, why is your hand shaking like that?”

Qin Song snapped his head down and glanced at his right hand. It was trembling uncontrollably.

Huahua asked fearfully, “Do you have Parkinson’s?”

Qin Song shook his head.

Huahua said, “Epilepsy? Thyroid disease? A… a cerebellar lesion?”

Huahua’s shrill voice and wildly absurd guesses finally dragged Qin Song back to reality from the blankness in his mind.

He shoved his right hand into his pocket and shook his head. “My hand’s just gone numb.”

Huahua said, “I’m serious. Are you okay? If you’re not feeling well, tell me in time. Don’t just tough it out alone.”

Qin Song found a corner of the wall, leaned against it, and squatted down. “I’m really fine.”

Huahua glanced toward the front desk, then turned back to Qin Song. “I’ll go outside for a walk with you.”

Qin Song braced himself against the wall and stood up, then went outside with Huahua.

Huahua found a quiet little road and accompanied Qin Song on a slow walk.

Qin Song said, “This counts as leaving my post without permission. My pay will be docked.”

Huahua said, “Then let them dock it. It’s your own shift you’re skipping, and your own pay getting docked. That’s perfectly fair, so don’t feel bad about it.”

Qin Song forced a smile.

Huahua said, “Is your health not great? If there’s a problem, you have to go to the hospital and get treated right away. You can’t avoid doctors out of fear of bad news.”

Qin Song shook his head. “I’m in pretty good health.”

Huahua said, “Fine, I misspoke. I should’ve known the thing men hate most is being told they’re not up to it.”

Qin Song said nothing.

Huahua went on talking to herself. “If it’s not a physical issue, then it’s a psychological one. I know a lot about that stuff. You can trust me.”

Qin Song felt around in his coat pocket. The envelope inside gave a faint crinkle.

A sharp pain stabbed through his heart, and for a moment he could hardly breathe.

Huahua pointed at a cluster of residential buildings not far away. “The place I rent is over there. It’s mealtime anyway, so let’s just go straight to my place. I’ll cook for you. You can rest there at noon while you’re at it.”

Qin Song said, “You’re a single young woman, and you’re just going to invite a man into your home like a wolf into the fold?”

Huahua looked at his lips and frowned. “Ew… even your lips have gone white.”

Qin Song touched his mouth.

Only then did Huahua answer what he’d said. “I’m not a single young woman. I’m a man too. We’re buddies.”

With that, she skipped toward the residential buildings. Qin Song followed slowly behind her, looking around at his surroundings as he went.

“Huahua, is there a shop downstairs from your place?”

Huahua turned her head to answer. “There’s a little convenience store. What do you want to buy?”

Qin Song said, “A lighter.”

Huahua said, “You smoke? I’ve never seen you smoke before!”

Qin Song fell silent and kept walking.

He wanted to buy a lighter, then find an open space and burn that envelope and that sheet of paper to ash.

The words and pattern on the white paper had all been printed. There was no handwriting at all.

The words read: I know you killed someone.

The pattern was of a glacier-shaped ashtray.