Sweeping Mouse Ridge – Chapter Nine : 2

The next morning, Xiao Chunhua arrived at the hotel and told Ma Xiaozhong and Guo Xiaofen, who were having breakfast, that they still hadn’t found Dong Yue. “How about I take you to where Reporter Guo wants to go?” she said.

Ma Xiaozhong asked Guo Xiaofen, somewhat surprised, “Where are you going?”

Guo Xiaofen kept her head down, finishing her bowl of white rice porridge spoonful by spoonful, without saying a word.

The Tucson drove for more than half an hour on the highway before turning into a town. Although it was already 8:30 in the morning, the town was deserted except for a few elderly people playing chess under the big trees in front of the supply and marketing cooperative and the credit union. Even the elementary school playground where the flag-raising ceremony was being held had few children in sight.

“The young people have all gone out to work,” Xiao Chunhua explained. But when Ma Xiaozhong asked him, “Didn’t you say they all came back in the last two years?” he smiled awkwardly and said, “They wouldn’t come back here.”

It wasn’t until Guo Xiaofen opened her phone’s photo library and pointed to a picture to ask a villager for directions that Ma Xiaozhong realized she was looking for Yue Shao’s house.

Yue Shao’s house was behind a large pond, with a large osmanthus tree growing in front of the door. As the car drove directly into his yard, a woman washing clothes by the pond looked up in surprise. Guo Xiaofen jumped out of the car and asked her what was wrong. Upon learning she was Yue Shao’s wife, she quickly introduced herself. At first, Yue Shao’s wife was somewhat confused, wondering what the female reporter was doing at her home. But after hearing that the reporter had witnessed her husband’s car accident, she awkwardly smiled, tears welling in her eyes. A girl who was drawing at a small square table under the eaves ran over, calling “Mama,” and sensibly put her arm around the woman’s waist.

The woman led Guo Xiaofen into the house. On a wooden table in the center of the living room lay Yue Shao’s portrait. In the photo, Yue Shao was very thin, with a faint smile on his face, kind and frail.

Guo Xiaofen gazed at the portrait, stood solemnly for a long time, and then bowed deeply three times. Yue Shao’s wife couldn’t help but cry out. Guo Xiaofen stepped forward, intending to offer some words of comfort, but the words felt insincere and powerless. So she simply grasped the woman’s rough, calloused hands with her own soft, white hands, holding them tightly for a long time. Seeing the woman was feeling better, Guo Xiaofen took a white envelope from her purse and placed it in her hand. Inside was two thousand yuan. The woman initially refused to accept it, but finally, after Guo Xiaofen said, “Consider it money for your child’s books,” she reluctantly accepted.

A single sentence reminded Xiao Chunhua, who asked Yue Shao’s daughter, “Why didn’t you go to school today?”

Before the little girl could answer, Ma Xiaozhong strode out of the yard, his face contorted with rage. He looked around and spotted a black Kia parked by the bamboo grove behind the pond. He immediately ran over and dragged three sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boys with bright yellow, punk-style hair out of the car.

“What are you doing?!” shouted one of the boys, wearing skinny jeans and emaciated from head to toe. His teeth were yellow, and his breath stank horribly.

Ma Xiaozhong landed a punch squarely on the boy’s stomach. This was the “hidden punch” the old detective used against the most dangerous enemies—fast, short, and powerful, the strike was precisely aimed to cause a sudden, intense spasm in the internal organs. The punch sent the boy sprawling to the ground, curled up in agony, unable to even groan, his mouth opening and closing like a fish pulled from a hook.

The other two boys rushed forward to attack, but when Ma Xiaozhong pulled a pair of gleaming handcuffs from his lower back, they were stunned and frozen in place.

Ma Xiaozhong handcuffed the boy on the ground, then raised his chin and asked the other two boys, “What are you doing?”

The two boys said nothing, “just out having fun.”

Ma Xiaozhong smiled wickedly and pointed to the yard across the pond: “That family is a martyr’s family, under police protection. Why don’t you find somewhere else to have fun?”

The two boys were so frightened that they got into their car and sped away.

At this moment, Guo Xiaofen and Xiao Chunhua arrived. Ma Xiaozhong picked up the boy on the ground and threw him into the back seat of the Tucson; he sat down next to him. Xiao Chunhua and Guo Xiaofen sat in the driver’s seat and passenger’s seat, respectively, driving towards the county town. Passing a courtyard reduced to ruins, Guo Xiaofen stopped the car. She got out, walked around the courtyard, and found a small, tattered blackboard among the rubble. Faint traces of chalk, repeatedly drawn and erased, were visible on it. She squatted there, staring blankly at the blackboard for a long time before putting it back. She stood up, her gaze slowly sweeping over the long-abandoned courtyard, where even the overgrown weeds were withered and yellow, before returning to the car.

“Where is this?” Ma Xiaozhong asked.

“Camphor Tree Nursery,” Guo Xiaofen replied.

It’s unclear what triggered Ma Xiaozhong’s anger, but he slapped the punk-haired man lying in his seat across the face: “Get up! What the hell are you pretending to be dead for?”

The punk-haired man slowly sat up, clutching his stomach, his acne-covered face filled with fear.

“You’ve got guts, staking out a martyr’s family’s house, scaring their kid so much they are afraid to leave the house. If this gets to the higher-ups, they’ll skin me alive.” Ma Xiaozhong patted his face. “So, sir, give me some face and tell me who sent you to do this dirty work so I can explain to the higher-ups and keep my job.”

“We really were just out having fun…” the punk-haired man muttered.

“Alright!” Ma Xiaozhong nodded, patting Xiao Chunhua on the shoulder as he drove. “High-speed rail station, take this guy to see the world.”

“Huh? We aren’t looking for Dong Yue anymore?” Xiao Chunhua hadn’t quite grasped his meaning when Guo Xiaofen quickly gave him a wink, and he suddenly understood.

“No need; this one’s enough to get by,” Ma Xiaozhong said with a grin.

“I…I want to find my mom!” the punk pleaded.

“Forget about finding your mom. When you get to our place, we guarantee you’ll call her ‘Mom’ every single day of the year,” Ma Xiaozhong said, putting his hands behind his head.

The punk suddenly burst into tears, his face covered in thick snot and tears: “I’ll tell the truth, I’ll tell the truth; this is what Black Piao asked us to do. They told us to keep an eye on that mother and daughter, and if they try to go on a long trip, to call him immediately, in case they go to petition or something…”

Upon hearing this, Xiao Chunhua said to Ma Xiaozhong, “Black Piao is a notorious thug in the county; he’s been in and out of detention centers and prisons several times.”

“Arrest him!” Ma Xiaozhong said viciously. “Don’t let him come out for three to five years. Also, I don’t have time to deal with the people behind Black Piao right now. I can guess what kind of scum they are, but I don’t want to see anything I shouldn’t see within a thirty-mile radius of the Yue family. If they suffer any more harassment or fright, you tell your Director Liu, and I’ll find an excuse to take his job!”

Knowing full well that these words were meant for the punk, Ma Xiaozhong’s ruthlessness was undeniably intimidating, and Xiao Chunhua readily complied with a “Yes, sir!”

Having heard that this short, fat man held the power of life and death over a county police chief, he assumed he was a high-ranking official on an undercover investigation. The punk trembled with fear: “Report…report to the government? Can I atone for my crimes through meritorious service?”

Ma Xiaozhong glanced at him sideways, his contempt as if he were a caterpillar: “What merit can you possibly gain?”

“That Dong Yue you just mentioned, I know where she is…”