Wandernde Lieder am Ende der Welt

Kapitel 10

Zhu Dayi felt hot all over, and as he looked into those alluring eyes, he nodded repeatedly.

The woman said, "I know you want to, so let me let you touch it, touch my chest." As she spoke, she lifted her clothes up, pulled his hand to her chest, and let him touch it—in the moonlight, you could see her chest, as if it had been cut open, with a dark, bloody hole.

The woman looked at him lecherously and asked, "What did you touch? Tell me?"

Zhu Dayi stared blankly at her face, grinning foolishly, and said, "You put my hand... under your armpit, I didn't feel anything..."

The woman smiled helplessly and tapped his forehead. "You silly boy, you're adorably stupid."

Then she asked him, "Do you want to kiss me? -- If you do, then hug me."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Zhu Dayi embraced her tightly, pressing his face and body against hers. The woman hooked her arms around his neck, pressed her face against his, and sealed his mouth with her lips, her tongue probing his mouth. He felt his heart pounding in his throat, moaning with ecstatic ecstasy. As he greedily sucked on her warm, fragrant saliva, he tasted a salty, fishy flavor in his mouth—the woman was pushing something into his mouth with her tongue. He finally couldn't bear it any longer and pushed her away, spitting the unpleasant taste into his hand; it was black, foul-smelling blood and broken white teeth.

He stared in astonishment at the woman—her face had changed in an instant, no longer the smiling girl from moments before, but the hateful face of the death row inmate Jiang Lan. His head throbbed with terror, and he scrambled away in fear. But Jiang Lan blocked his path. Her face was now covered in blood, her gaping mouth gaping open, her eyes flashing with flames as she approached him step by step… In the blink of an eye, everything went dark. The brightly lit buildings vanished, the windowsills large enough for two people to sit side-by-side disappeared, the stairs were gone… replaced by a half-finished building, abandoned in the wilderness, overgrown with weeds, its staircase long since blocked—rusted steel bars, cracked floors, collapsed walls, nothing but piles of bird droppings and the noisy croaking of frogs below…

The next day, passersby from the northern suburbs saw a man lying dead on the roof of the dilapidated building. He was hanging from a few steel bars in one corner of the roof—two bars clamped his head, stretching his neck long, and one pierced through his chin to the top of his head, suspending his entire body there like an unharvested gourd in autumn. His shirt was pulled askew, and his trousers were loose, dangling from his shoes, exposing his buttocks and all his private parts…

That night, a strange thing happened: the home of President Geng of the Municipal Court caught fire. The next day, people were talking about it, saying that President Geng wasn't home; he had gone to Shanghai for an inspection. He and his wife had always lived apart, and no one was home, yet the fire inexplicably broke out. It was unclear whether a thief or someone else had broken into his house and ransacked it—all the faucets were turned on, water overflowed, the refrigerator was overturned, the television was thrown into the sink, and bankbooks and cash were scattered everywhere on the bed, floor, and sofa. Before leaving, they even set the curtains on fire. Fire trucks rushed to the scene, forced open the door, and extinguished the fire with a high-pressure water pump. Surprisingly, money was floating everywhere, various bankbooks were scattered on the furniture, and a large number of gold necklaces and rings were found. Because the homeowner wasn't home, they notified his workplace and the local police station. After a brief cleanup, they found over 10 million yuan in bankbooks and cash, not including other valuables. The fact that a cadre earning only a salary had so much money in his family was quickly reported to higher authorities, who immediately dispatched personnel to investigate. The municipal discipline inspection commission and the municipal procuratorate also became involved. The court president was immediately recalled. When he returned to the city on a midnight flight, police cars took him directly to the detention center…

Many people were surprised and couldn't believe that Dean Geng's family had so much money.

Everyone knows that Dean Geng comes from a poor background, his hometown being in the mountains of Lüliang, Shanxi. Ten years ago, when he was transferred to this city from the inland, his wife and daughter stayed in their hometown, and Dean Geng lived alone. Everyone says he is very simple and frugal, wearing the same few clothes year-round, flat cloth shoes, and eating Shanxi-style knife-cut noodles—the epitome of a traditional old cadre. It's truly incomprehensible what he was thinking—making so much money? Someone in the know revealed the reason: Dean Geng met a young, beautiful woman from his hometown, and he became hopelessly infatuated. Because of this relationship, Dean Geng didn't let his wife come to live with him. Two years ago, he spent a fortune sending that woman abroad; all his money was earned for her. Dean Geng is retiring in two years, and that woman keeps urging him to earn more money so he can go abroad and reunite with her.

Court President Geng Qingshan was detained for possessing a huge amount of unexplained wealth. The public security authorities notified him and his relatives that they could hire lawyers to provide legal assistance from the investigation and interrogation stage onwards.

In the detention center, Geng Qingshan thought of his wife. Over the years, apart from occasionally sending some money home, he had almost forgotten about her. He hadn't seen her for about 10 years.

When he called his hometown in Lüliang, Shanxi, his wife, who had long since converted to Christianity and whose heart was already dead, listened and said, "The Bible says that we come into this world with nothing, and what can we take away? We should be content with what we have to eat and wear. Those who want to get rich have fallen into temptation, seized by many ignorant and harmful desires, and ultimately sink into ruin and destruction. Greed is the root of all evil..."

Geng Qingshan grew impatient: "Are you going to find me a lawyer or not? Tell me now!"

The woman then said, "The Bible says that if you take someone's clothes as collateral, you must return them before sunset, because they rely on them for warmth, and how can they sleep without them?"

The woman hadn't finished speaking when Geng Qingshan hung up. If he hadn't been in a detention center, and if a policeman hadn't been standing next to him, given his past habits, he would have smashed that phone.

After he hung up the phone, his wife continued saying, "My Lord says, forgive those who are ungrateful, do not repay evil with evil, give them a chance to forgive—Amen!"

Two days later, the lawyer that Geng Qingshan's wife had hired for her husband arrived from Shanxi. She was a middle-aged woman, nearly 50 years old, with short hair, glasses, flat cloth shoes, and carrying a soft cloth bag. When she arrived at the detention center, she presented her credentials and said she was a lawyer from the Christian church who didn't usually represent people in court; she had been entrusted by Geng Qingshan's wife to guide this man who had fallen into despair. She was quickly arranged to meet Geng Qingshan in the reception room outside his cell.

The conversation was brief because Geng Qingshan was skeptical of the lawyer his wife had found for him; she resembled an old nun—white-haired, sallow-faced, like a chrysanthemum untouched by the sun in a church. The woman, however, told him, "I'll find a way to help you. Is there anything you want to say to your wife?"

Geng Qingshan slipped a wad of paper to her from under the table, while carefully glancing around—in fact, no one paid attention to him, since he had been a court president and the police officers guarding him wouldn't keep a close eye on him.

Geng Qingshan whispered, "Take it out and look at it slowly. Tell her to do as I wrote..."

As he finished speaking and got up to leave, the woman quickly called him back, taking something wrapped in a floral cloth from her bag. "This is something your wife brought you on your way here. It's a specialty from our hometown, Lüliang jujube cakes. The dates come early; she hopes you'll get out soon. They're waiting for you!"

Geng Qingshan's nose stung with tears. He took the package, stood up, and walked away. On the way to his cell, he felt a swelling in his eyes, a warm liquid slowly welling up and lingering in his eye sockets. He was somewhat surprised; since his parents' deaths, he couldn't remember shedding a tear. For over 40 years, nothing had made his eyes feel hot. Afraid that the police and others behind him would see, he clenched his teeth, tilted his head back, shook it a few times, and stared wide-eyed at the road beneath his feet… His eyes ached from being open, gradually growing cold. By the time he reached the cell block, the warm liquid had disappeared…

The woman also walked out of the detention center gate, unfolding the ball of paper covered with dense writing—"My beloved wife:"

Forgive me for my coldness and neglect towards you over the years. The situation is extremely urgent now. You must do as I say. After receiving this letter, immediately write a letter to Li Xiaofeng abroad. Forget your past resentment towards her and sincerely beg her (do not call, as the phone may be tapped) to write back to China as soon as possible and issue the following statement: She married abroad and inherited a large amount of property. The money in Geng Qingshan's family was all brought back to China by her business, amounting to 12 million yuan, which is temporarily stored in Geng's family.

Only in this way can I be freed. Remember! Remember!

After reading it, the woman sighed, quickly put the letter away, and hurriedly left.

That afternoon, the woman came to the detention center again.

She walked through the gate, showed the guard her identification, and said she wanted to see Geng Qingshan. The guard, a thin, old policeman with a wrinkled face, smiled like a cracked walnut and enthusiastically led her into the courtyard. Suddenly, he shouted loudly, like a child, "Help! Help!—"

At that moment, a large number of police officers rushed out from all directions, pounced on the stunned woman, and tackled her to the ground. Two officers pinned her down, twisting her arms behind her back. The thin officer immediately made a phone call, saying, "Boss, boss! The person who threatened Dean Geng has been caught!" Soon after, a short, stout policeman with a full beard rushed in from the compound. Judging from his size and imposing manner, he was clearly the warden of the detention center.

The bearded policeman ordered someone to release her, stared at her intently as he turned her around, and then stood in front of her, glaring at her.

During the subsequent interrogation, the woman finally understood—they said that when she came in the morning, she gave Geng Qingshan a bag. When Geng Qingshan opened it in the cell, he found a bloody heart inside. He was so frightened that he screamed and was still not quiet, saying that someone wanted to harm him. He was squatting in a corner and wouldn't see anyone.

Hearing this, the woman cried out, "What bad luck! What's going on? Why are you treating me like this? I came last night, and this morning someone impersonating a waiter knocked me unconscious, robbed me of my money, and tied me up with a sheet; I don't know how long I was unconscious before I woke up. The police station hasn't solved the case yet, even after I called them. I wanted to go back, but I thought about my duty and came back anyway. This is clearly my first time here, yet you say I've been here before, and that I threatened Geng Qingshan. How can you treat me like this? You should respect my dignity!"

The bearded policeman said, "Why are you threatening Geng Qingshan? You're dead if you don't confess!"

The woman cried out, “I did not threaten Geng Qingshan! I swear before God that this is my first time here, and I have come to save him. You should believe me, believe in God’s faithful messenger.”

The bearded policeman said, "Hmph, God? Should we believe in God?" He smiled and looked around at everyone.

Most of the police officers laughed, and almost in unison said, "We don't believe in God."

The woman said, “Yes, you are the police. If you don’t believe in God… don’t believe in me, you are the police, you still have to follow the law, right?”

The bearded policeman said, "The law? I'm talking about the law!" He then ordered, "Cuff her!" Ignoring the woman's struggles and shouts, the policemen handcuffed her.

The woman said, "You need to provide evidence, right?"

The bearded policeman said, "Your face is the evidence! Wasn't it her this morning?"

The policeman behind me said, "It's her, it's her. No doubt about it. It's definitely her."

The bearded policeman ordered, "Take her in and lock her up! ...Then we'll complete the paperwork."

As the woman was dragged inside by a group of people, she cried out, "This is outrageous! Why are you arresting me? What right do you have to arrest me? Don't you believe in God or obey the law? Are you just doing whatever you want? What's wrong with you? Have you gone mad? What's wrong with this city? Has everyone gone crazy? I can't take it anymore, let me go!"

The woman was dragged into the cell, and as the iron door slammed shut, her voice softened. "Let me go, God! I won't be his lawyer anymore, okay? I want to go back to my hometown in Lüliang—"

Wu Bingbing rushed to the hospital. She was anxious to get there for two reasons: first, to check on Dr. Meng's injuries; and second, to find out the health status of the eight patients Dr. Meng had performed heart transplants on, who were located in six different provinces; were they really, as Jiang Lan had said, "all dead"...?

Upon arriving at the hospital, she didn't see Dr. Meng or Dr. Qi. In the cardiothoracic surgery department, there was only one nurse she recognized. As she approached, the nurse quickly pulled her to sit down, looking at her face with concern, and cautiously asked, "You're here. Is something wrong? Are you alright?"

Bingbing said I was fine, then asked Dr. Meng if he was feeling better.

The nurse said, "No, he's not better. Don't you know? His condition is getting worse." Then she lowered her voice and said, "At first, he only broke two ribs, injured his spine, and had a concussion that left him in a coma for a while... But the more he was hospitalized, the worse it got. He developed a nervous disorder. Several times he's been shouting and screaming in the ward, saying that a nurse tried to kill him while she was sleeping and even choked him—"

"How could a nurse kill him?" Bingbing said, thinking to herself, "Was that Jiang Lan?"

"Who knows... Last week, I don't know when he hid a scalpel under his pillow. When Dr. Qi went to see him, he was asleep. As soon as he opened his eyes, he jumped up, yelling 'Don't come any closer!' and wildly brandished the scalpel, slashing Dr. Qi's chest. These days, no one dares to go into his ward; everyone's on edge. The night before last, he chased an intern with the scalpel, running all over the corridor. The girl was so frightened she fell ill. Everyone says this can't go on. Dr. Meng is still the vice president; it's pitiful that he's gotten to this point! —"

Bingbing said worriedly, "How could this happen? I'll go check on him."

The nurse quickly said, "You mustn't go. He has a knife and doesn't recognize anyone."

Bingbing asked, "He suddenly became like this, without saying why? Even Dr. Qi and the others—couldn't get any answers?"

“Who knows?” The nurse shook her head. “He didn’t say anything. At first, I suspected it was a relationship problem. His wife works at a hospital in Guangzhou, and there haven’t been any conflicts between them. His wife came by, and he was crying his eyes out. Later, I wondered if it was due to work…too much pressure. It felt a bit like—”

Does Dr. Meng experience work pressure?

"Yes. Of the 13 heart transplant surgeries he performed, 11 resulted in death."

"What? They...all those who had surgery, they're all dead?"

"Yes, several patients' families from other provinces wrote letters and made phone calls to question him, some even reported him to the hospital, and one even came to make trouble for him... saying that there was a problem with the surgery he performed, that his technique was not up to standard, and demanding that he be held responsible. Others demanded a full refund of the medical expenses... It was a huge mess, don't even mention it."

"I never expected it to be like this," Bingbing muttered to herself.

"I was quite surprised when I saw you," the nurse continued, "because I was afraid something might happen to you."

Thankfully, you're healthy. Right now, only you and Xu Miaomiao are alright; the two of you are fine. Otherwise, not only would Dr. Meng be in a difficult position, but the hospital would also be in a bad way…”

Wu Bingbing insisted on seeing Dr. Meng, and the nurse, unable to dissuade her, pointed out two large rooms on the far east side of the seventh floor. These used to be intensive care units, but the doors and windows are now sealed with steel bars… You can go if you want, but please don't go inside. Just look from the outside. And don't tell anyone what I just said!

Standing in front of the closed door of the room on the east side of the seventh floor, Wu Bingbing stared blankly at Dr. Meng inside. He paced back and forth in the room, seemingly oblivious to her presence at the door. Even when he glanced in her direction, he would turn away coldly and warily, muttering something angrily under his breath.

Bingbing stepped forward and called out, "Uncle Meng, Uncle Meng—"

He walked on, seemingly oblivious to her presence.

Bingbing's nose stung with tears. "Uncle Meng, I'm so sorry... I've dragged you into this. But why—why did you take her heart while she was still alive?..."

Dr. Meng turned around, tilted his head, and faced her without speaking. His eyes remained motionless behind his glasses, as if they were painted on. Bingbing also noticed that he seemed to be carrying something in his sleeve, like a scalpel, and there was a dried bloodstain on his cuff.

Tears streamed down Bingbing's face as she said, "Don't worry, Uncle Meng, you'll be alright... Take care. I won't let her hurt you again."

Dr. Meng did not answer. He took two steps back, got into bed, and covered his head with the sheet.

Bingbing stood there, biting her lip and gazing at him for a long time before leaving the hospital with a heavy heart.

Wu Bingbing was walking anxiously towards the museum when she suddenly heard someone calling her name.

"Miss, miss, please wait!"

She turned around and saw a woman in her fifties with an odd appearance walking towards her from under a tree by the roadside.

She was tall and thin, wearing a loose gray robe. Under her square cloth hat was a long, thin face with a broad forehead, a pointed chin, a high nose, and small, bean-like lips. Her eyes were deep and bright, with a brush-like gaze that made people feel uncomfortable.

Wu Bingbing asked warily, "What is it?"

The woman said, "Young lady, I can tell you seem to be in trouble."

Wu Bingbing said, "There is trouble, a lot of trouble."

"There are some things I might be able to help you with."

"Help me? Then who are you?"

"I am a kind-hearted person who does good deeds."

"You won't even tell me who you are, yet you say you'll help me?"

"Perhaps I can give you some pointers."

Even if it were true, why should I believe you?

"I can tell you're confused and your mind isn't at peace."

"I'm so annoyed, I don't believe in anything."

"You have a heavy yin energy around you, as if it's suffocating you."

"Who exactly are you? A fortune teller? A nun from a temple? Or a witch? Why are you telling me all this? What do you want? Or do you want me to do something for you?"

"I am a kind-hearted person who travels around, helps people, and guides those who are lost."

"Another kind person. Well then, kind auntie, I have a headache right now, I have things to do, and I'm not in the mood to talk to you about this. Goodbye, okay?"

"Alright. However, please heed this old woman's advice: if there are things you cannot see clearly, do not approach them, but stay far away from them, and never let them confuse your mind."

Upon hearing her words, Wu Bingbing stopped in her tracks, seemingly understanding something.

When she turned around, the woman had already disappeared into the bustling crowd.

Wu Bingbing shook her head, not caring about thinking about it too much, and walked straight towards the museum.

In the museum's art gallery, in front of the oil painting "Woman Practicing Yoga".

"Are you here? —I have something to say—?" Wu Bingbing asked the painting softly.

The woman in the painting sits gracefully, her delicate and beautiful eyes slightly narrowed. She is focused on practicing her martial arts, completely oblivious to anyone calling her. She doesn't even blink, and her face remains serene and distant, like a desolate autumn day.

"Please come out, I beg you, please come out and talk to me!"