Chapter 10: Shadows of Zhou Dongnan

Anan had been right—the alcohol carried a strong aftereffect.

It didn’t make one fully drunk, but it left the body unsteady, prone to stumbling.

On her way back to the inn, Cheng Yun nearly slipped on the narrow hillside path. She steadied herself, bent down, and squinted into the darkness. Below, where she had almost fallen, lay a vegetable garden, its perimeter bristling with sharp wooden stakes.

She shrank her neck and chuckled softly at her own carelessness.

Back in her room, too tired to wash up, she collapsed onto the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

She slept soundly through the night.

The next morning, Cheng Yun truly embraced the chaos of vacation. At eight o’clock she opened her eyes, glanced at her phone, then rolled over and slept again until nearly noon.

When she finally rose, smoke curled from chimneys outside her window. It wasn’t breakfast being prepared, but lunch.

She showered, made an appointment with Director Zhang, and stepped out yawning.

Director Zhang was waiting in the inn lobby. “Sister Cheng!” he greeted warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

Cheng Yun nodded. “Pretty good.”

“Let’s go downstairs then. Do you want to eat first or take a walk?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I’m alright,” he said.

Cheng Yun smiled. “What do you mean ‘alright’? We’re traveling alone, just the two of us. You don’t need to use such ambiguous language. Just tell me if you’re hungry.”

Director Zhang blushed faintly. “I am a little hungry… I haven’t eaten anything this morning.”

“Then let’s go, let’s eat first.”

“Okay, okay.” He led her down the hillside to a small restaurant.

Though it was noon, the off-season meant breakfast was still being served. Director Zhang ordered, “Boss, two bowls of beef noodles.”

Sunlight had dispelled the morning chill. Cheng Yun, dressed lightly, didn’t feel cold. While waiting, she gazed outside.

The narrow road allowed only one vehicle at a time. Two trucks, both laden with goods, were negotiating passage. Nearby, two elderly Miao men sat on steps, watching. A black mountain boar lay in a corner, untethered, eyes closed, so still it seemed dead save for its breathing.

Inside, the restaurant was small, with two long tables. Cheng Yun and Director Zhang sat together.

The noodles arrived quickly. Director Zhang scooped pickled vegetables, offering, “Sister Cheng, you should eat too.”

“Okay.”

But Cheng Yun wasn’t hungry. The hangover dulled her appetite; she longed for a cigarette instead.

“Do you often bring tour groups here?” she asked.

“Yes, this is a major tourist attraction in Guizhou. It gets really crowded during peak season.”

“It’s definitely a good place to relax.”

“By the way, Sister Cheng, what did you think of yesterday’s performance?”

“Not bad.”

The mention of the performance made her think of someone—and thinking of that person made her laugh.

“Xiao Zhang.”

“Hmm?”

“I have something interesting to tell you.”

Director Zhang leaned in, curious. Cheng Yun smiled. “I saw an acquaintance in that performance.”

“Zhou Dongnan, I guess,” Director Zhang said immediately.

“?” Cheng Yun blinked. “You know him?”

“Yes, I know him. He often works for our travel agency. Our driver is familiar with him.”

“Has he been performing here all the time?”

“Not really. It depends on his schedule. He does this occasionally, but he doesn’t stay long.”

“He doesn’t stay long with you either?”

“Not long. He only came last month; before that, he worked for other companies. But now that he’s caused this mess, he can forget about going back—” Director Zhang stopped, realizing she might have said too much.

Cheng Yun’s expression remained indifferent. “Because he stole the travel agency’s business? He really is a bit inconsiderate.”

Director Zhang hesitated. “This guy… well, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Cheng Yun’s face scrunched slightly, recalling Zhou Dongnan. Director Zhang quickly added, “Sister Cheng, I’m not talking badly about him behind his back.”

“It’s okay, we’re just chatting.”

Director Zhang leaned closer, whispering, “Don’t you think there’s something wrong with him here…?” She tapped her head.

Cheng Yun laughed heartily, drawing glances from nearby men.

“I’m not just saying this out of the blue,” Director Zhang insisted. “Look at him, he never smiles, and his eyes move slower than everyone else’s.”

“Yes.” Cheng Yun nodded, then asked, “Does he live here?”

“Home? Of course not. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing. I just saw him performing here. Isn’t that troupe selected from the Miao village?”

“Yes.”

“Then how—”

“But he’s not Miao.”

“…What?”

“He’s not Miao. Did he tell you he was Miao?”

He hadn’t.

“He said he was a minority.”

“Ah, that’s right, a minority. He’s Dong.”

Cheng Yun stared at her untouched noodles. “Dong?”

“Yes. I think our manager mentioned it once. He’s Dong.”

“Then why is he dancing in a Miao house?”

“Hey.” Director Zhang waved dismissively. “What’s the big deal? He can dance, so he can dance. He’s just a temporary substitute anyway, earning some money.”

“…”

The conversation drifted away from Zhou Dongnan. After lunch, Director Zhang led Cheng Yun through the village. The rare sunny day filled him with energy as he explained everything they passed.

Cheng Yun occasionally responded, but often she spoke to herself.

“There are so many silver shops here,” she remarked, eyeing a row of “Miao King Silverware.”

“Yes, the Miao people really love silverware,” Director Zhang explained. “It’s divided into utensils and ornaments. Now mostly ornaments. Silver is woven into their lives—engagements, births, birthdays, funerals. It’s a symbol of wealth.”

Cheng Yun nodded, stepping into a silver shop.

A huge silver phoenix gleamed in a glass case at the entrance.

Director Zhang assumed she wanted bracelets or earrings, but Cheng Yun’s attention fixed on the phoenix.

She stood before it until a shop assistant approached. “Do you like headdresses? We have small ones, very delicate.”

Cheng Yun pointed. “Is this a headdress?”

“Yes, but artistically crafted.”

“Is it placed here as decoration?”

The assistant laughed. “Our boss put it here; I don’t know why.”

“Is this for sale?”

“Huh? You want to buy this?”

“Let me ask.”

The assistant hesitated, then took Cheng Yun’s business card: Cheng Yun, General Manager of Beijing Pingtai Insurance Agency.

Her posture stiffened.

“Give your boss a greeting. If you’re selling, call me.”

“…Okay!”

Cheng Yun left, Director Zhang trailing.

“Sister Cheng, which one do you like?”

“Yes.”

“Then how will you take it? It’s so big.”

“I’ll just mail it back.”

They strolled on. The village was small; after hours, they had seen nearly everything. Resting by the river, Cheng Yun watched tourists snapping photos.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asked.

“No. I used to lead tours to Huangguoshu Waterfall, climbing up and down several times a day.”

Cheng Yun gave a thumbs up.

“A heroine among women,” Director Zhang chuckled.

“So, Sister Cheng, where do you want to go after we’re done here?”

“I need to think about it.” She looked at him. “Let’s find a restaurant for dinner, and then you can rest.”

“Okay.” He nodded, then asked, “Should we look for Zhou Dongnan?”

Cheng Yun’s gaze lingered on the still river. “I’ll look for him.”

Director Zhang made a call, waited, then hung up. “Nobody answered.”

Cheng Yun turned back slowly. “Then forget it, let’s go eat.”