Chapter One: The Missing
1623 Words
"And then?"
I asked.
The man sitting across from me tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, then took a deep drag and said, "Your father sat by the door of the main room until dawn, but he didn't see that head come back."
"Uncle, you didn't come all the way from the village just to tell me this, did you?"
I asked, "And it sounds like a story."
"What do you know!"
A man next to me suddenly said.
I was startled and about to get angry, but then I realized something was amiss.
So I crossed my arms and leaned back on the sofa, looking at the two men in front of me.
The older one was my eldest uncle, with a kind face, even his voice was gentle.
The one next to him was my second uncle, with a fierce look.
I sat opposite them, and even with a coffee table between us, I could feel the oppressive aura emanating from him.
At first, I thought my second uncle was involved in murder and robbery, which explained his heavy murderous aura.
Later I found out this man's mother was a pig butcher.
"Uncle, your nephew is a businessman, a bit shrewd, please don't take offense.
You just say you're my uncles based on a single sentence, how can you prove it?"
I picked up a cup of tea from the coffee table and slowly drank it, waiting for this so-called uncle to explain.
My last memory of my uncles was probably when I was two years old.
After that, my father sent me from the mountains to be raised by an elderly couple.
Now, more than twenty years have passed, and I can't remember anything from before.
Even my closest relatives, my uncles, are shrouded in a blur.
My uncle stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, gave a bitter smile, and said, "You were sent away by your father when you were little. So many years have passed, our lifestyles are different now, I can't prove it to you."
He then reached into his pocket for his own tobacco.
I'm a businessman. Although I don't smoke, I always keep a few packs of cigarettes at home for guests.
Seeing my uncle wanting my own cigarettes again, I pushed the already opened pack on the table towards him, indicating it was mine.
My uncle smiled at the cigarettes, took a small packet from his pocket, and placed it in front of me, saying, "Take a look for yourself. You should recognize this."
He then pushed the cigarettes towards me as well, adding, "Your uncle isn't that addicted to cigarettes."
I ignored his joke and looked down at what he had placed in front of me.
It was a palm-sized cloth bag, looking quite old.
I guessed it was something my uncle used to use to store cigarettes.
Taking it out, I found an old harmonica.
The aluminum case of the harmonica was engraved with three characters: Wei Lianbing.
That's my father's name.
In an instant, childhood memories flooded back.
When I was little, my father used to play the harmonica to lull me to sleep. The harmonica in front of me was indeed quite eye-catching.
"What do you think?"
My uncle asked, looking at me.
I put down the harmonica and slowly nodded.
The harmonica was my father's lifeblood. Since my uncle could bring out my father's lifeblood, it must be something special.
So I quickly smiled and said, "Well, Uncle, you see, I'm a businessman too. Dealing with people in business is commonplace.
One can't be too careful, please don't mind..."
I then pushed the pack of cigarettes back to him.
"Hmph!"
My second uncle snorted beside me.
I ignored my second uncle and looked at my eldest uncle, asking, "Uncle, what did you want to see me about?"
After glancing at the harmonica on the table, I quickly asked, "Has something happened to my dad?"
My eldest uncle's smile faded, and he nodded, sighing, "Your dad is missing."
"Missing?"
I immediately sat up from the sofa. "What happened?"
My eldest uncle lit a cigarette from his pack, took a deep drag, and seemed to be organizing his thoughts.
After a while, he said, "It's about what I told you about seeing your grandfather's head."
It turned out that my dad had sat at the door of the main room until dawn, but my grandfather's head hadn't appeared.
But I hadn't gotten out of bed since that night.
And I started a hunger strike.
In the last few days, I didn't even drink water, and then one night I just passed away.
My dad thought it would all end with my death.
But who knew that on the very night of the funeral procession, Grandpa's head would reappear in the mourning hall.
Grandpa's head wasn't disheveled like before; it seemed as if he had been cleansed.
He looked at me, then turned to look at my father.
At this point, there was no one else in the mourning hall except my father.
The two of them stared at each other blankly for a long time.
Until my father asked, "Dad," my grandfather finally spoke.
"Don't be sad," Grandpa said, "Your mother has come down to keep me company."
My father knelt down and kowtowed to Grandpa.
Grandpa continued, "If you want to know how I died, come to the ancestral hall three years later."
Without waiting for my father's reaction, he skipped away.
And my father obeyed Grandpa's words, leading a group of people into the village ancestral hall after three years of mourning.
But once he went in, he never came out again.
"When did this happen?
Did you send people in to look for him?"
I asked.
My uncle paused slightly, then said, "Judging by the time, it should have been when you were five years old."
"Five years old?"
I almost jumped off the sofa.
"Then why are you only telling me now?
And have you found my father?"
I knew the answer as soon as I asked that.
If they had found him, would they have come to inform me?
My uncle sighed again and said, "You should know that your father was the clan chief.
Except for someone in the clan who needs to attend a funeral, only the clan chief and a few elders can enter the ancestral hall.
But besides your father, everyone else who had the authority to bring people in is dead."
My uncle stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and continued, "Even if we are the clan chief's brothers, we don't have the right to bring people in."
"However..."
My uncle looked at me and said, "According to the village rules, if the clan chief has an accident, then the next..." "The clan chief is his son.
So now only you can bring people in."
"It's a matter of life and death, why bother with so many trivial rules?"
I jumped up from the sofa. "And why are you only telling me now?"
My uncle gave a bitter smile and said, "Nephew, finding you is already a blessing from your grandfather's spirit.
After your father sent you out, he refused to say where he sent you.
We've been looking for you for over ten years."
Looking at my uncle's bitter smile, I seemed to realize something.
So I sat down again, waiting for my uncle to continue.
"We rushed here after hearing news of you, hoping you could return in the name of the clan chief and find your father."
He paused, then added, "He's your father, and also my own brother.
So, your second uncle, the villagers, and I all hope you can go back."
Hearing my uncle's almost pleading voice, I began to feel uneasy.
But the thought that had suddenly flashed through my mind made me hesitate.
“Well then,” I said to my uncle, “it’s getting late, you and my second uncle can stay here for the night.
Let me think about it.
I’ll give you an answer tomorrow.”
My second uncle looked at my uncle, about to say something, but my uncle spoke first: “Okay.
I hope you can think it over carefully, nephew.
After all, the missing person is your own father.”
I nodded, and after arranging for the two to return to their rooms to rest, I went back to my room.
I locked the door and drew the curtains.
Only after making sure everything was safe did I take an envelope from a hidden compartment in the cupboard.
This envelope was given to me by my adoptive parents before they passed away. They said it was given to them by my father after he sent me away, and they were to pass it on to me.
My adoptive parents only said two things to me before they died.
The first was: You must move every three years.
The second was: If anyone from the village finds me, whoever they are, find a secluded place and open this envelope.
I weighed the envelope in my hand, thinking, "Holy crap, could this be some kind of secret strategy Zhuge Liang gave Liu Bei?"
Thinking this, I opened the envelope.
Inside was only a thin sheet of paper.
On the paper were only two sentences.
The first sentence: No matter who finds you, you cannot return to the village, not even your father.
The second sentence: You must move every three years.
I looked at the two sentences and softly repeated them a few times.
Move every three years, and you can't return to the village no matter what.
Could this be trying to make me hide from something?
- Writer
