Hou could not let him stay out of sight for long, Chen suspected, but Jin chose to say no more in Molong’s presence.

  ‘Then I’ll talk to you later, Molong. Again, my deepest condolences. If there’s anything I can do, tell me or Jin. In fact, you may get in touch with Jin directly,’ he said. ‘I might not have told you, but she was with me in the Yellow Mountain for another investigation.’

  ‘I’ll tell Chief Hou that you’ll join him in a minute, Director Chen,’ Jin said, turning to leave. ‘And don’t forget, you still need to take a Covid test.’

  ‘The government people above still don’t trust me, as you can see,’ Chen went on, turning to Molong. ‘This afternoon, they were facing a serious case that could threaten the so-called social stability, so they turned to me for help. But that’s another matter. Tell me more about your mother – no, I should say my auntie. What are the funeral arrangements?’

  ‘The funeral home is also closing. No social gatherings allowed. I consider myself lucky that I have a slot secured early tomorrow morning.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I can make it, but Jin may be able to be there on my behalf. That’s the least I can do for my auntie.’

  Some vague yet elusive ideas were resurfacing in Chen’s mind. Earlier on, during his phone talk with Pang, some seemingly half-formed ideas had flashed through his mind and vanished before he could properly sort them out.

  He might be able to help Pang by translating The Wuhan File at least. And Molong would be able to get the manuscript out of China for him. With his deep grudge against the hospital management and the zero-Covid policy, Molong might be more than willing to help out with the investigation, too. It would not be difficult to hack into the hospital computers to gather inside information about the murders.

  He came to a sudden realization with a shudder.

  Half a year earlier, the prospect of collaborating with others against the CCP government would have been unimaginable. But things changed so fast in China. And it was a government he was more than disillusioned with.

  As they were heading toward the front entrance of the hospital, Chen noticed that several other members of the team were already there.

  Hou said, ‘We’d better not go out together.’

  ‘You make a good point, Hou,’ Chen said, nodding his approval. ‘One or two senior Party members at a time. Let’s keep ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. It would not do to trigger unnecessary alarm in the hospital. People’s nerves are already wound up so tight here.’

  ‘Exactly, Director Chen.’

  ‘Then I’ll go first with Director Chen,’ Jin said. ‘He still needs to to take a Covid test.’

  ‘You two walking together may also appear more natural, I think,’ Hou said with a knowing grin. ‘A Party boss on leave with his pretty young secretary.’

  It sounded like a teasing prod. She was surprised but chose to say nothing in response.

  Then she insisted that Chen should take the Covid test first.

  So the two parted with Hou. After the test, they left the hospital, turned right into Shandong Road instead, and then right again into Guangdong Road, following it toward an overwhelming question. And as they walked, it was with another unshakable feeling – that someone was following closely, doggedly, behind them in silence.

  They got back to the hotel around nine thirty. Both Chen and Hou had their respective grand suites assigned to them, opposite each other across the dimly lit corridor.

  As for Jin, hers was a standard room, nothing fancy, but adjoining Chen’s. Each of their rooms sported a balcony with a repainted green cast-iron railing, overlooking Fuzhou Road.

  There appeared to be a door between their rooms, but it was locked. Jin was not too sure about the other rooms in the hotel, but she knew her room would likely be bugged and installed with a hidden camera. Everything was possible in the shadow of the powerful CCP surveillance system. After all, the whole floor of the hotel had been cleared out for the special team.

  Someone was knocking at the door, saying, ‘Special night snack for your room.’

  She opened the door and picked up a tray containing two eggs and a cup of Dragon Well tea. As part of the special arrangement, the hotel service proved to be excellent.

  But was she in a position to do anything else for the former inspector? Hou and his people were so desperate for Chen’s help that letting her stay in the same hotel was like an extra favor to him. In the meantime, those cops and Internal Security were watching Chen each and every minute. Possibly watching her, too – his ‘little secretary.’

  There was no point speculating about things in the dark. It was beyond her perception.

  An old alarm clock was ticking loudly somewhere in the room. Occasionally, she could hear hurried footsteps moving along the corridor. She thought she might as well finish some office work. Luckily, most of the Party documents and notices came electronically nowadays. For now, she took a perverse delight in dealing with the monotonous paperwork.

  The ringing of the hotel phone jerked her out of her concentration. The call was from Chen.

  ‘The heating in the room is suffocating. So I stepped out on to the balcony. The view of Fuzhou Road under the moonlight is indescribable, as if in a half-forgotten poem, so familiar yet so strange to me.’

  ‘Really?’

  For a hotel converted out of an old building a century ago, the poor quality of the heating system was not surprising. It was unlikely, however, that the bookish inspector would indulge himself in romantic reveries at this moment.

  More likely than not, it was meant as a cue for her to step out there as well. The hotel phone line was probably for the benefit of other ears.

  ‘But are you OK, Director Chen?’ she asked, playing along.

  ‘Nothing serious. Just a bit out of breath.’

  ‘What’s the temperature outside? Hold on. According to my cell phone, it’s not too bad, but you need to keep yourself extra warm.’

  ‘Don’t worry. No more than a few minutes out there for the fresh air,’ Chen said.

  ‘Well, I will have to check out the balcony for you. As Chief Hou has emphasized, it’s the number-one political priority for me to take good care of you.’

  ‘I would not argue with you on that, Jin.’

  Looking out to the balcony, she saw Chen standing there, solitary, silhouetted against the cold, pale moonlight. The two balconies were separated, but with little distance between them. They could talk to each other without having to raise their voices.

  Jin stepped out on to the balcony, stamping her feet, breathing warmth into her cold hands.

  ‘It’s not too bad, but you should not stay out here long, Director Chen.’

  ‘Sorry to drag you out like this. In 1984, Winston and Julia also have to meet like this – in the dark, in the cold.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve just downloaded the text of the book,’ she said. ‘Judging from the first few sentences of the introduction, Julia falls for Winston in spite of everything, right?’

  ‘Right. You just keep reading. But it’s the first time I’ve ever looked down at Fuzhou Road at night. What a weird sensation! In your history textbooks, you may not have read that in the pre-1949 era, the road was known as a celebrated brothel street.’

  ‘What!’

  It was the first time that they had been able to have a moment alone since they’d checked into the hotel.

  She reached out her hand impulsively, but her fingers failed to touch his across the balcony. After all, there’s no ‘companionship in space and time.’

  ‘What do you mean when you describe the view as familiar yet strange to you, Director Chen?’

  ‘Look – the Foreign Language Bookstore, across the street. In the early seventies, I started teaching myself English and I frequented the bookstore. It could be packed with customers, but it was even more crowded outside, with young people like me exchanging English books in front of the bookstore. The CCP knew about it but chose not to do anything at the time. Later on, the government named Fuzhou Road as the culture street, with a number of stores turned into bookstores.

  ‘In the pre-1949 era, however, Fuzhou Road had been a lightless street, with the cheap brothels tucked in this lane or that small street nearby. It’s said that General Chiang Kai-shek bought a young girl from a brothel here to be his concubine. But tonight, you stand here looking down at the street with no traffic, no pedestrians, no neon lights, as if the past and the present have been juxtaposed in the darkness.’

  ‘As the old saying goes, “Talking with you for ten minutes, I’ve learned more than studying for ten years,”’ she said. ‘People may venture out for groceries, but not for books. It’s not easy for people to get out in these Covid times.’

  ‘That’s true, but are you still able to go out, Jin?’

  ‘I have a special permit from the city government, remember? Besides, Hou told me that I do not have to stay in the hotel all the time.’

  ‘I think I may have to ask you another favor.’

  ‘Anything, Director Chen.’

  ‘What happened to Molong’s mother is so sad. I should purchase a wreath and attend the funeral myself. I called her Auntie for years, you know.’

  ‘No, you’d better stay put in the hotel. If needs be, I’ll go there on your behalf, carrying a wreath of fresh flowers to the funeral service.’

  ‘I truly appreciate it, Jin. Also, I happen to have a friend surnamed Pang in Wuhan who may need help, and Molong happens to be someone who’s capable of doing something for him. So here is Pang’s phone number; you can tell Molong about it. He may get in touch with Pang directly.’ After reading the number to her, he added, as if thinking of something else, ‘Few people know that Molong is a computer genius.’

  She took that as confirmation that she definitely should go to the funeral home early the next morning. For what reason, he did not go into details – at least for the time being.

  ‘Glad to be of service, Director Chen.’

  ‘So, tomorrow morning. Shanghai Longhua Funeral Home. The service for Molong’s mother. The eight o’clock slot. Purchase a fresh-flower wreath on my behalf. Spare no expense.’

  ‘But why so early?’

  ‘The only slot available. Pretty soon, the funeral home may be shut down, I’m afraid. Molong’s a trusted friend. So don’t worry when you talk to him.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Well, Molong has been at his mother’s side in the hospital for days. He may have noticed something unusual happening there. Of course, I’m not sure about that.’ He resumed after a short pause, ‘Anyway, as in the old saying, “A general fighting far away at the border does not have to listen to the emperor” – you surely know what I mean.’

  Day 2

  So grateful for the honor

  you granted me on ‘the general stage’

  made of gold, carrying

  a jade-dragon-sword in hand,

  I’m ready to lay down life

  for you, my lord.

  – Li Ho

  In the middle of the journey

  of our life I found myself

  within a dark wood

  where the straight way was lost.

  – Dante Alighieri

  I am annotating Six Classics,

  I am being annotated by Six Classics.

  – Lu Jiuyuan

  Short videos are increasingly popular in the time of Covid, as if caught in a wildfire, spreading out so fast. One of the latest videos showed a young father fighting his way out of the lockdown barriers, flourishing a knife in his hand, shouting thunderously, ‘No milk powder left at home, my baby is dying of starvation.’ With his subdivision in lockdown, there’s no way for him to go out to buy milk power. He’s too desperate. It goes without saying that he was subdued by Big Whites and Neighborhood Cops, handcuffed and his mouth stuffed with a mop.

  Nonetheless the video became so popular because people admired his guts to fight for his baby. Somebody even parodied a popular song, singing:

  Hi baby, it’s your father’s last poem for you.

  No milk powder left at home,

  your crying is breaking my heart,

  making me to break out the lockdown,

  flourishing a knife in my hand.

  Oh my dear, my poor starving baby,

  for a can of white creamy milk powder,

  I want to be a father you’ll remember, and feel

  proud of when I’m no longer with you.

  It was whispered among the neighbors that the father would be sentenced for years for his criminal behavior against the Party’s zero-Covid policy.

  – The Wuhan File

  Early in the morning, Jin went out of the hotel in the chilly wind. Overnight, light fluffy snow had sprinkled on Fuzhou Road again.

  She chose to wear a mask with a tiny red five-starred flag design on the upper left corner, symbolically patriotic, wondering whether she, too, was being closely watched – in or out of the company of Chen.

  These days, people had to pledge themselves to be patriotic, loyal to the Party government on all occasions. There’s a well-known statement made by a high-ranking cadre in Beijing: You have to be absolutely loyal to the Party; otherwise, you are absolutely disloyal. It sounded like doggerel, but it was deadly serious.

  Echoing in the depths of her mind was a line Chen had murmured across the balcony last night: Unreal city … I had not thought death had undone so many. Afterward, she tried to find the source of the line, yet to no avail. The deserted, brown-smog-strangled Fuzhou Road appeared to be unreal at the present moment.

  She got on to a subway train at the People’s Square, which was still wrapped in a pallid shroud. The train was half empty, perhaps because of the early hour.

  She scrolled through the news on her cell phone. She didn’t find anything about the serial murder case, but there was a lot about the pandemic – not just in Wuhan, but in Shanghai and other cities. The train soon entered a long, dark tunnel.

  She arrived at the Longhua Funeral Home about twenty minutes before the scheduled time.

  The moment Chen seated himself at a breakfast table in the hotel canteen, Hou appeared there, too.

  Little wonder. The people in the hotel must have been put under close surveillance. Hou could have watched Chen’s each and every move.

  ‘Morning. Where is Jin, Director Chen?’

  ‘Last night, I stepped out to the balcony, taking some fresh air and thinking about this difficult case.’

  ‘We all need fresh air, but it can be quite cold out on the balcony.’

  ‘No need to worry. Jin hurried out there to check the temperature for me.’

  ‘She’s such a nice girl; she reminds me of an expression you have used in a poem, which can be truly applied to her – “a smiling, understanding flower.”’

  ‘No, that’s an old Chinese expression, but she’s a clever, hard-working girl. No question about it. Out on the balcony, she asked me what else she could do for me. I thought of the funeral service for Molong’s mother this morning. We’re just beginning our investigation here. I cannot go to the funeral home myself, so I sent her to place a flower wreath on my behalf.’

  ‘That’s so considerate of you.’

  ‘Back to what I was saying. It’s a complicated, difficult case. As in the statement made by Comrade Deng Xiaoping at the beginning of China’s reform, “We can only try to cross the river by stepping on one barely visible stone after another in the muddy water.” At the time, I was a college student, full of confidence in China’s reform. Time flows. We still have a long way to go. I don’t know whether some of the stones can hold steady under the turbulent water, but we have no choice but to trudge on.’

  ‘Exactly – we have no choice, Director Chen. What do you think will be the first stone for us?’

  ‘We should start by checking any unusual activities on the part of the victims. Let’s say a week before each one’s death. Not necessarily in an obvious connection with the Covid crisis at the moment. The hospital may not know that much, so we will speak to their family members and the people in their respective neighborhoods.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘We need to get to the inside information about what’s been happening in the hospital since the discovery of the first victim’s body.’

  ‘You mean the hospital people may not have told us everything?’

  ‘Well, you can never tell. But it’s a possibility, isn’t it? It’s an often-cited metaphor – to squeeze out the toothpaste. For one reason or another, some of our officials cannot help covering things up as much as possible. Remember our talk with the hospital cadres last night?’

  ‘Yes, the truth won’t come out until you squeeze hard. You’re right about that, Director Chen.’

  ‘As I’ve read in People’s Daily, the number-one Party boss of Wuhan has just stepped down because of his clumsy efforts to cover up the outbreak of the Covid epidemic.’

  ‘That’s so true, Director Chen. I read it, too. It’s absolutely scandalous. And disastrous for the whole country. It’s a bitter lesson for all of us.’

  ‘In addition, we need to have the more detailed autopsy reports of the three victims. Better to get them directly from the autopsy room, without them being previewed by others.’

  ‘Got you. That surely can be arranged. I’ll have someone dispatched there right now, watching outside the autopsy room. The reports will be delivered to you today. We’re lucky to have you with us. The investigation cannot go anywhere without your guidance.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that to me, Hou. What’s your plan for the day?

  ‘I’m arranging a couple of meetings in the hotel for us. I’ll call you when they’re ready.’

  The funeral home was a state-run institution located on an immense lot in the west of the city, with a well-kept meadow stretching out in front, and a row of colorful flower beds surrounding the gate.

  Jin was greeted by a large new sign listing all the rules and regulations, which must have been requested by the city government during the Covid outbreak.