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Frontier. Can Xue
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She returned to her room, where—under the lamplight—she saw her father looking seriously at her from his photograph on the wall. A little animal had stopped on the glass on the left side of his face, so his face appeared to have a dark scar. Oh, it was a little gecko! Liujin loathed mosquitoes and flies, but loved geckoes. Sometimes, she caught geckoes in the garden and brought them back to her room. She called them “the insect cleaners.” But tonight, this small thing made her father’s face look a little fierce. She whisked the small critter with a feather duster several times, but it didn’t move! Such an obstinate little creature. When she sat down, her father was still staring at her. She hadn’t looked at this photo for such a long time that she had almost forgotten it. So, had her father not forgotten her, or had she subconsciously not forgotten her father? In the few days before leaving, Father had frequently looked at the garden in a daze, but he hadn’t even glanced at her. It was as though he’d forgotten he was leaving Pebble Town. A few days later, he had left without looking back. He hadn’t turned around to look at her when boarding the train, either. Liujin thought she must have inherited her father’s disposition, so she shouldn’t expect—what on earth had she ever expected? “Dad, Dad,” she cried out in her mind, a little absently, a little sentimentally. In the blink of an eye, the small gecko dropped to the floor. She walked over quickly, bent down, and picked it up. But it was dead. When Liujin looked up at her father once more, his eyes had clouded over.
She walked into the courtyard again and buried the gecko under the irises. It was after midnight when she finished, yet she was still fully awake. She spied the shadows of several people on the ground. Who were they? Who was standing next to the poplar? No one. There was no one at all. But then whose shadows were they? Several shadows were next to the steps at the entrance, too. In the bright moonlight, the edges of the shadows were sharply focused. How strange. Looking toward the right, she found several more at the courtyard entrance—and they were moving inside. Liujin rushed back to the house and closed and bolted the door. She leaned against the door, shut her eyes, and recalled the scene just now. Then she lay down, but she didn’t dare turn the light off. She kept watching the window, waiting and waiting. Those things made no noise. She didn’t believe in ghosts. Then what were these shadows? Could shadows exist by themselves? Thinking about these gloomy topics, she felt that the deeper she went, the less control she had. Finally, she could only drop into a whirling abyss.
Holding up the piece of homemade cloth, Mr. Sherman smelled it and then smelled it again, as though he were going to devour it. Liujin noticed that one of his ears was moving. “This design is not readily available. People say that the printing and dyeing process is difficult,” Liujin commented.
“Ah, I know. My family does this kind of work!” He laughed, and his glasses flashed with light.
“Oh, I see. You’re a professional.”
Mr. Sherman was embarrassed. He put the cloth down and hurriedly departed, saying he had to buy groceries. Liujin wondered if she’d said something wrong. He didn’t really seem interested in her, so how had the old man Meng Yu reached his conclusion? There was a commotion in the market, and some people surged toward the exit. A child said, “Wolf!” and an adult covered the child’s mouth. How could wolves come to such a populated place? What nonsense! Liujin had thought for years that people coming to this market tended to rush around impulsively. Once—no one knew who had spread this rumor—it was said that a certain stall was handing out free soda pop, and people had hustled over there. Many people collapsed from heatstroke, and one person was actually trampled to death by people squeezing past. All day long that day, Liujin smelled disinfectant. Her nausea made her hiccup. When Liujin sold cloth, she usually didn’t dare look at her customers. She thought the customers in this market were too mean, and she’d better keep her distance. Now, when she looked up, the market was deserted. A large pool of blood had formed in the circle of chairs in the center of the market where people took their breaks. She didn’t know if it was animal blood or human blood. Or was there really a wolf?! Her boss was smoking non-stop. He was in low spirits as he said, “There won’t be any more business today. These hooligans!” “Who’s a hooligan?” “Who? The people who start rumors!” “What’s that blood?” “It isn’t blood. It’s fake!” He raised his voice sharply and angrily. The shopkeepers on either side of him craned their necks uneasily to look at him. He sat down again dejectedly, and complained to Liujin, “People are sneaky! You might as well go home now.”
Liujin had no sooner left the market than she noticed that the people hadn’t gone far. They were congregated next to the square, looking on. She was disgusted with their behavior. Among them were many regular customers who came here every day. Why were they so harebrained today? Did they really believe the wolves had come here? Impossible! She deliberately walked into their midst to find out what they were saying. But they weren’t saying anything; they just silently made way for her. Wherever she walked, people got out of the way. A little girl called to her.
“Sister Liujin, someone asked me how to get to your house. I told him.” This was Xiyu, a harelipped child.
“What did he look like? How old was he?”
“He . . . I’m not sure. He isn’t from around here. He kept looking back while he was walking.”
Liujin’s heart leapt. Could this be a messenger from her father?
The person looked comical. He wore green canvas pants, and a “shirt” plaited from elm leaves. He appeared to be only about sixteen years old. Just now, he’d been squatting in the salvia. If you glanced at him quickly, you might take him for a shrub.
“Who are your parents? Your clothes are really funny!” Liujin said good-naturedly.
“I’m not a child, sister Liujin,” he said seriously, and then all of a sudden he smiled, revealing small, white, protruding canine teeth. “As for my clothes, I traded with someone at the foot of the snow mountain. I gave him all of my bricks of tea—a full load of tea. I came here from the interior to sell tea.”
“My god. What will you tell your parents when you go home?” Liujin wrinkled her eyebrows.
“I like it here so much that I’m not going back.”
“How did you know my name?”
“It’s a secret. But don’t worry. I won’t bother you. I just came to take a look at you. Goodbye!”
When he walked off, the elm leaves rustled. He looked really funny. Liujin followed him and watched from the gate: he crossed the street to Meng Yu’s home. Was it a coincidence that he also went to Meng Yu’s? Five or six cellophane candy wrappers littered the area near the salvia. Liujin thought, This kid really likes candy!
While she was deep in thought under the grape arbor, Mr. Sherman entered the courtyard with a basket of groceries. Liujin thought back to the commotion at the market and tried to guess where he had gone then. Mr. Sherman sat down, took off his glasses, and wiped them with a handkerchief. Because he was very nearsighted, Liujin assumed he couldn’t see anything without his glasses, but—pointing at the candy wrappers—he asked who had thrown them there. Liujin told him it was a kid whom she didn’t know, probably an outsider.
“An outsider?” Mr. Sherman’s voice became sharp and unpleasant. “I’m an outsider, too.”
Liujin thought this was ridiculous. What was wrong with Mr. Sherman?
“I used to live on the other side of the snow mountain.” His voice softened. “Our family dyed cloth. We didn’t have a dye-works business. It was only a hobby. Do you understand?”
He put on his glasses and watched Liujin’s reaction.
Liujin nodded her head vigorously and said, “I think I understand. I sold out of the cloth