(06)
The kids were about to go on an autumn outing.
I’d already prepared food and snacks for them. I also took them to the supermarket to buy ingredients for a barbecue, reminded them to be careful, then went home to wait for the photos they’d send.
Trang Du was a great photographer. He took group pictures for everyone, snapped the scenery along the way, and even sent me voice messages with live updates.
When they came back, they were clearly having a wonderful time, chattering excitedly as they told me all about the day.
Hà Diệc Dương had just finished telling us how no one dared cross the suspension bridge when Tống Thước cut in. “There’s nothing special on the other side, just a temple.”
“You really didn’t cross it,” Lâm Diệu Diệu said cheerfully. “But didn’t Tiểu Thước say she met a monk?”
“I did meet someone,” Tống Thước said. “He looked…”
She seemed unsure how to describe him. After a moment, she said, “He didn’t really look like a monk.”
“Why not?” I asked curiously.
“Hà Diệc Dương said he didn’t look very respectable,” Trang Du said with a smile. “Right?”
Hà Diệc Dương, caught off guard when he was called out, paused before answering. “Yeah.”
“A monk who doesn’t look respectable?” I grew wary. “Could he be a con artist?”
“No, Auntie,” Tống Thước said. “He didn’t ask for money. He just said a few strange things to me.”
I grew even more wary. “What did he say?”
What kind of monk was that? Could he be a pervert?
Tống Thước looked a little confused. “He said… he wanted to bow to me, then wish my whole family peace, happiness, and a river of wealth?”
I: “…”
Từ Như Đồ suddenly chimed in: “This humble monk has come from the Eastern Land of Great Tang and is on his way west to worship Buddha and pray for blessings. Today, by a happy twist of fate, I met a young benefactor blessed with good fortune. Surely you were born into a virtuous family. It would be no hardship for this humble monk to bow to you. I wish your family peace, happiness, and wealth flowing like a river.”
The boy imitated him so convincingly that the whole dining table fell silent.
“That was a perfect imitation,” Hà Diệc Dương marveled. “Exactly the same.”
“You remember every word?” Lâm Diệu Diệu’s eyes widened. “No wonder you got a hundred on your history test last time.”
“Auntie?” Trang Du looked at me in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
The other kids looked at me too. Only then did I snap out of it and compose my expression. “It’s nothing.”
But that night, when I went back to my room, I couldn’t sleep.
—This humble monk has come from the Eastern Land of Great Tang and is on his way west to worship Buddha and pray for blessings.
“Of course I bought candied hawthorns in the alley on the east side, then went all the way to the school on the west side to give them to you! That’s more than twelve miles!”
—It would be no hardship for this humble monk to bow to you, young benefactor.
“Tiểu Thu, you’re my lucky charm. Let me bow to you!”
—This humble monk wishes your family peace, happiness, and wealth flowing like a river.
“For his birthday, your second brother doesn’t wish for anything. He only hopes Tiểu Thu strikes it rich overnight and becomes a glamorous heiress~”
He didn’t look like a monk, and he suddenly stopped Tống Thước to say a few strange things.
A corner of my hazy memories suddenly felt as if someone had lifted it.
I couldn’t remember my eldest brother’s face, or how I’d felt when he left.
But I clearly remembered that when I was in elementary school, he’d once crouched in front of me and praised me with great seriousness. “Tiểu Thu came in first in the race? That’s amazing!”
I also remembered how he’d treated me the way I treated these kids—with patience and affection. He’d take them to the movies and play games with them, and whatever they did, he’d smile and cheer them on.
I thought I must have been loved once, too.
But even my own eldest brother couldn’t go on loving his little sister unconditionally forever.
Especially when that little sister couldn’t even recognize him.
Maybe my naivete and slowness had worn my eldest brother out. Maybe after taking care of me for so many years, he’d finally reached the point where he needed to live his own life. Whatever the reason, the year he took the college entrance exam, my second brother left me with just one sentence before going off to become a monk on his own.
It sounded like an absurd joke. At first I couldn’t believe it. I cried and searched everywhere for him until my eldest brother rushed over and held me tight.
In the pouring rain, warm drops fell one by one from my eldest brother’s face.
Was that rain? Why was the rain so warm?
“I’m sorry, Tiểu Thu,” he said, trembling. “We were wrong. I’m sorry, Tiểu Thu…”
After that, I never mentioned my second brother again.
I thought my second brother must have made my eldest brother sad. I was sad too, but I wouldn’t bring him up again.
My ties with my family had always been fragile.
My eldest brother loved me, and my second brother loved me too.
It was just that one was so busy he had no time to love me, while the other was so tired he no longer wanted to.
So was that monk today my second brother?
Did he know my eldest brother was dead? Did he know I’d adopted Tống Thước? Did he know where I lived now?
If he knew, why hadn’t he come to visit my eldest brother?
If he knew, why hadn’t he come looking for me?
If he knew, why would he rather bow to Tống Thước, who knew nothing, than say one more word to me?
Should I go look for him?
…But even if I found him, I wouldn’t be able to recognize my second brother.
I gazed silently at the group photo on the table.
Two teenage boys and a little girl.
The kids’ faces were indistinct; all I could tell was that they were beaming.
I paused, then left my room and knocked on Tống Thước’s door.
“…Tiểu Thước, tomorrow’s Saturday. I want you to come with me somewhere to look for someone.”
The next day, I took the five kids back to the place where they’d gone on their outing.
With Từ Như Đồ and Tống Thước leading the way, I walked onto the suspension bridge and headed step by step toward the temple.
The kids all sensed something was up. Lâm Diệu Diệu, who’d been too scared to cross the bridge yesterday, quietly followed behind me today, her eyes full of worry. No matter how I tried to persuade her, she wouldn’t leave.
With no other choice, I took the little girl’s hand and gently pushed open the temple door.
The temple was deserted. There wasn’t a soul in sight.
“Why is there nobody in here?” Tống Thước looked around. “They’ve even cleared away everything that was here yesterday.”
“But didn’t someone just offer incense?” Trang Du pointed to the incense burner. “Could this candied hawthorn be an offering?”
“Who uses candied hawthorn as an offering?” Hà Diệc Dương objected. “Someone probably just dropped it here by accident.”
“Auntie…” Từ Như Đồ hesitated. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said softly. “Let’s go home.”
“Weren’t we looking for someone?”
I shook my head. “I’m not looking anymore.”
He doesn’t want to see me. So I won’t look for him anymore.
Perhaps, just as the book said, the bond between him and me, like the bond I shared with my eldest brother, could only gradually fade, just like their faces in my eyes.
“Auntie, is the person you’re looking for important to you?” Tống Thước asked.
“He’s important,” I said. “But it’s okay. I have all of you now.”
“We’ll always be there for you!” Trang Du immediately vowed. “I promise! Otherwise, I’ll be a little puppy!”
“Me too. Otherwise, I’ll be a little pig…”
“…”
The autumn sunlight was beautiful. A gentle breeze stirred the trees, and their shadows danced across my hand, speckled like stars.
I took a bite of the candied hawthorn.
…It was a little sour.
(07)
As the children grew up, I came to believe in the plot less and less.
Over the years, the plot had collapsed until it was unrecognizable, yet the world had stayed exactly the same, with no sign of collapse or any major change.
Although the Encyclopedia was supernatural in a way, I’d come to treat it as a kind of book for entertainment. After all, it didn’t appear often—only when I had a question.
I ran into a new problem—I seemed to have developed a knack for attracting admirers lately.
All five children had started high school, and I’d finished graduate school and begun a simple, no-frills life as a landlady.
In college, I’d been busy taking care of the kids, so I’d spent very little time on campus.
But as they gradually grew older, I had more free time and could go out for walks.
Gradually, people began to pursue me.
They included Trang Du’s art teacher, one of my tenants, a former college classmate, and a senior researcher in my lab…
I hadn’t been very interested in spending time with men before I met my tenant, Lục Chiêu. I had a very good impression of him.
He was funny, gentle, and courteous. Every time we went out together, I felt completely at ease… What’s more, being with him always brought back faint traces of something familiar—sometimes my eldest brother, sometimes my second brother.
I knew it wasn’t right, but I still couldn’t stop myself from accepting his invitations again and again, revisiting the past through similar actions and words.
But I hadn’t expected anyone to find out so quickly.
“Auntie,” Trang Du suddenly said at the dinner table, “I saw it.”
I didn’t understand. “Saw what?”