The phone was dialed again, the calm beeping persisting. After more than ten seconds, it was automatically disconnected.
“Li Siwen’s phone won’t connect either?” Qi Ran frowned slightly, turning off the phone screen.
They were standing at the main entrance of the Old City District. The air at six in the morning was a bit cold and harsh, wisps of white fog being exhaled. Even at such an early hour, there were still quite a few workers walking out of the gate to avoid the subway rush hour. Many gazes were drawn their way, and Qi Ran knew exactly why they were looking. Her right hand was propping up a mirror half her height, its surface plastered with paper, wrapped so tightly and thoroughly it looked like a mummy.
To carry this half-a-person-tall mirror out of the secret chamber, they had truly exerted considerable effort. After much difficulty getting it to the entrance of the Old City District, they discovered the van they had parked earlier was gone, possibly towed for illegal parking. Left with no other option, Qi Ran tried calling Team Two’s Executor. Perhaps because it was still too early, no one answered on the other end. She then tried dialing Qi Xin’s number, but the problem was Qi Xin’s cell phone seemed to be turned off; it was equally unreachable.
With no alternative, she attempted to contact Li Siwen, thinking to first return the mirror to the construction site and deliver it to the Executor during the daytime. Strangely, Li Siwen’s phone was also unreachable. It wasn’t turned off nor actively rejected—it just kept ringing into emptiness. It was as if, overnight, everyone had collectively decided not to answer their phones.
Jiang Zhique nodded, showing her phone screen: “No reply on WeChat either.”
A faint unease rippled through Qi Ran’s Mind Lake. She felt as if something bad had happened… That bizarre shop seemed to possess some kind of magic. Every time she and Jiang Zhique walked into it and then came out, the world would undergo earth-shattering, monumental changes.
Something had happened, and they were the last ones to know.
Thinking this, her heart suddenly lurched. She briefly re-asked Jiang Zhique the questions she had posed before, going over them again. Jiang Zhique guessed what she was worried about, so she didn’t ask anything else. She simply took a small notebook from her pocket and handed it over. Qi Ran took it and found the palm-sized notebook was a diary, its entries abbreviated to the point of being impossibly short.
For example, regarding the incident when they met that Executor Fang Qi, Jiang Zhique’s record was: “Executor Fang Qi, Acting Team Leader, 10.23 Qi Ran’s birthday, gathering, three calls, ignore 1 accept 2 ignore 3.”
This kind of concise recording method was indeed very effective, at least allowing Qi Ran to effortlessly cross-check both their memories. After confirming there were no changes, she finally sighed in relief. She was honestly a bit frightened of these inexplicable and un-counterable alterations to the past. The feeling of only being able to passively accept it was truly not pleasant.
“Is there a problem?” Jiang Zhique asked in a low voice.
“No. I’ll buy a notebook like this too when I get back to record things. This truly is much more convenient.” Qi Ran handed the notebook back to Jiang Zhique.
“I have unused ones in my room. The store had a ‘buy four get one free’ promotion before,” Jiang Zhique shook her head. “I’ll give you one when we return.”
Qi Ran nodded, looking at the contacts in her phone. After thinking for a moment, she moved her finger to the number input area. She didn’t need to take out the business card. Those two strings of numbers, familiar beyond familiar, were already etched into her memory. She input the numbers one by one. After fully entering them, she silently recited them, then closed her eyes slightly, took a deep breath, and tapped to dial.
“Beep— Beep—”
On the fourth ring, the call connected. Xu Yan’s voice came from the other end, her tone sounding like she’d just woken up, still drowsy: “…Hello, may I ask what this is regarding?”
“Good morning,” Qi Ran hesitated before speaking, “Are you currently at the Exec… the Police Station? Is it convenient for me to come find you?”
“Qi Ran?” Xu Yan’s voice suddenly pitched higher, sounding more alert now. She spoke somewhat flustered, “Wait a moment… Sister Tian Xi, when do I finish… So can someone come find me?… Qi Ran, the doctor sister says you can come find me. I’m currently at 98 Zuoquan Road. I’ll tell Dad you’re coming… Does he need to pick you up? Where are you now?”
“We’re currently at the East Gate of the Old City District,” Qi Ran said. “There’s a mirror half a person’s height that needs to be handed over to the Executor and the others.”
“We?” Xu Yan asked.
Qi Ran glanced at Jiang Zhique and nodded: “Yes, and…”
But before she could finish, Jiang Zhique interrupted her first: “You take the mirror by yourself. I need to go back to Li Siwen’s place first.”
“Huh?” Qi Ran was slightly stunned.
“I have a bit of a bad feeling. This is the first time I haven’t been able to reach him,” Jiang Zhique added in a low voice. “Also, I don’t really like getting involved in other people’s social circles… Of course, that sort of serious business nature last Saturday doesn’t count. I mean this kind, ordinary socializing.”
“Only I’ll be coming, and that mirror,” seeing Jiang Zhique had already made up her mind, Qi Ran could only say into the phone. “Just like that… Please thank Uncle for me, bye.”
After hanging up the phone, Qi Ran hesitated for a moment, then asked anyway: “Why don’t you like getting involved in other people’s social circles?”
She looked at Jiang Zhique and added: “It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it, I’m just a little curious.”
“I just feel uncomfortable. I feel out of place with the atmosphere, and others feel they need to be considerate of me. I don’t like that feeling…” Jiang Zhique said quietly. “Don’t you ever feel that way?”
“For me, it’s an opportunity to meet new friends,” Qi Ran said frankly. “Someone who can be friends with my friend—I imagine there wouldn’t be too many major differences in our personalities. They’re potential friends worth knowing.”
“Is that how you think of it?” Jiang Zhique nodded slightly. “Makes sense too… but I don’t think it suits me.”
“It’s actually fine,” Qi Ran sighed. “The reason I said that was just because I thought you two might become friends.”
“…Doesn’t it bother you?” Jiang Zhique’s voice was somewhat low.
“Hold on,” Qi Ran stopped abruptly. “That sentence sounded a bit strange coming from you—no, way too strange. First, let me ask for a moment: the ‘companion’ you mentioned earlier, you meant friendship, right?”
“Of course not,” Jiang Zhique said. “A companion is—”
Seeing Jiang Zhique seemed about to repeat what she had said before, Qi Ran asked with a bit of a headache: “Then, do you mean romantic love?”
“Why would you think that?” Jiang Zhique’s brows furrowed tightly. “A companion is a companion, a community of shared interests. It’s not something as trivial as love that can be equated to it.”
“Then I probably understand what you’re concerned about,” Qi Ran sighed. “A possessive desire over a friend?”
“I don’t need friends, only a companion.” Jiang Zhique said quietly. “It’s not possessiveness over a companion.”
Qi Ran nodded, thinking to herself that she recognized this feeling well. Classic stubborn denial, classic feigned maturity, classic ‘in a few years, remembering these words will feel embarrassing’ sort of thing. It seemed Jiang Zhique and Liu Xu might get along well too.
In many respects, Jiang Zhique didn’t act like a sixteen-year-old minor. Compared to Greasepaint’s childishness, it was worlds apart. It seemed Li Siwen’s influence on her conduct was far deeper than it appeared on the surface.
Only in some emotional matters would the precocious, mature exterior be forcibly peeled away, revealing her core. That core was still an adolescent sixteen-year-old girl, her words occasionally tinged with childishness, caring and agonizing over her image in others’ eyes, caring that her friend had friends she didn’t know… A bit childish, but isn’t that exactly how it should be at this age?
A child like this, kept at a distance by her so-called father, without a single woman by her side. How did she handle her first menstrual period? Had she been very scared, thinking she was sick? Did she only learn about periods after searching the web by herself? Would Li Siwen buy sanitary pads for her? Or did she have to save her meal money to buy them herself? With the Snake Tattoo, she already needed to eat more. Did saving meal money mean she went hungry every day? Why did she always wear long sleeves, the cuffs buttoned so tightly? Was it because classmates had seen the Snake Tattoo at school? Had she not made friends because rumors spread, leading to her being isolated and ostracized? Standing alone at the very back of the classroom during a parent-teacher meeting, would she have felt sad? When school ended, walking out and seeing other children being picked up by their parents, would she have felt envious? In winter, when it got dark early, would walking home from school alone be frightening? Did she pretend to talk to a friend on the phone out of fear, walking and muttering into her phone to herself? Why did she dislike crying? Was it because she had long since learned that no one would comfort her even if she did?
Thoughts emerged one after another, like bubbles slowly floating up from the water, silently born and silently bursting.
Jiang Zhique left. Qi Ran sat on a stone block, the mirror propped against her shoulder, head drooping low, looking like a stray dog.
