Two-faced didn’t know what “hezi rice” was, and he was afraid that someone in the village who disapproved of corpse-dragging, or who was on bad terms with the bereaved family, might go and report him. If the village authorities came and impounded his taxi, he’d be in big trouble. No matter what, he refused to stay and try this “hezi rice” he’d never heard of. The family couldn’t persuade him to stay, felt very apologetic, and saw Two-faced out. As he was about to leave the house, Two-faced felt a cold wind whistling through the main room, and couldn’t help glancing again at the woman’s photo—the woman in the picture still wore that faint, gentle smile.

The gray-haired elder deliberately took out eight apples, placing four at the front and four at the back of the taxi, saying, “Four at the front, four at the back—may your journey be safe and steady!”

As soon as Two-faced got in the car, he again smelled the aroma of braised beef. He couldn’t figure it out. He drove out of the village, got onto the highway, and retraced his route. Maybe it was because he was now alone in the car, but the temperature was very low. Even with the heater on full blast, the cabin was much colder than before. Two-faced shivered from the cold, repeatedly testing the heat from the vents with his hand—it felt hot, but he couldn’t understand why the car was still so cold.

After driving for a while, the Corolla suddenly stalled. Two-faced slowly brought the car to a stop and turned the key to restart it. He tried several times—the engine turned over powerfully, but just wouldn’t start.

Two-faced checked the dashboard: there was still gas, the water temperature was normal, and the oil pressure was fine. He couldn’t figure out why the car wouldn’t start. He turned on the hazard lights, grabbed his flashlight, and got out into the snow. Outside, despite the heavy snow, it actually felt warmer than inside the car. He opened the hood and checked the wiring—both high and low voltage circuits seemed fine.

Two-faced stood there for a long time. When he got back in the car, the strong aroma of braised beef hit him again. The car still wouldn’t start. Two-faced stared blankly at the few pale red apples, muttering to himself, “Nothing’s wrong… this is really freaky!”

The moment he said “freaky,” Two-faced couldn’t help but shiver. He glanced back at the rear seat—of course, there was nothing there, just him alone in the car. He tried the ignition again, and suddenly, with a loud sound, the right rear window began to roll down by itself. Wind and snow rushed in, and the car actually felt warmer. He sat there in a daze for a moment, then pressed the master window control, and the window rolled back up. Instantly, the aroma of braised beef that had filled the car vanished without a trace.

Suddenly realizing something, Two-faced hurried out of the car, turned on his flashlight, and searched around. Sure enough, not far ahead by the edge of the cliff, he saw two boulders the size of human heads. Though they were covered in a thick layer of snow, he could still make out drag marks on the ground and four large patches of yellow frozen urine.

This was exactly the spot at Qijia Shop where he had nearly slid off the cliff earlier…

Looking down from the edge, he could vaguely see a few houses below. Apart from the swirling, heavy snow, there was no sign of any activity.

Suddenly, the taxi’s radio came on, playing that Shanxi folk song “Six Visits to Your Home”: The first time I came to your house, you weren’t there, your father hit me twice with his pipe; the second time I came, you weren’t there, your mother hit me twice with her pot lid; the third time I came, you weren’t there, your big yellow dog bit my belt; the sixth time I came, you weren’t there, I heard you lifted your bridal veil three days ago.

Two-faced was chilled to the bone. He rushed back into the car, sat down, and turned the key. This time, the engine started up smoothly with a cheerful sound. Two-faced floored the gas pedal, the car accelerated too quickly, skidded a bit on the snow, and sped off.

Blizzards of swirling snow, treacherous mountain roads, endless dark night—the Corolla raced through the Lüliang Mountains, braving the snow as Two-faced drove with exhilaration. Countless times he went up and down hills, around sharp bends, and through dangerous spots, each time escaping trouble as if protected by some unseen force. It was as if those eight apples truly had the power to keep him safe. He drove the taxi all night, and when dawn broke and the snow stopped, he finally reached Linfen. When Two-faced asked for directions, he heard that salt had already been spread on the highway. After breakfast, he got on the Dayun Expressway. He’d expected more traffic jams, but to his surprise, the road was clear all the way. Fifteen hours later, he arrived home safe and sound.

Later, Two-faced told this story to his fellow drivers, but no one believed him. Some said that in rain and snow, electrical circuits often short out, so stalling and windows rolling down weren’t unusual. Some said playing a recording to make it sound like a dead person was talking couldn’t fool the living. Some said the smell of braised beef was a Shanxi trick to cover up the stench of corpses. Others, with a sharp tongue, said, “Driving over two thousand kilometers round trip is boring, bro, you’re just making up stories to amuse yourself, aren’t you?”

Two-faced’s face flickered between light and dark, twitched slightly, then he smiled calmly and didn’t argue.

Chapter 6: The Child in the River (1)

I died when I was seven.

The moment of death was very brief. Only when I saw my body tightly entangled by water plants did I realize I could never go back—yet today I had promised Mom I’d come home early for dinner.

My funeral was very simple: twenty plastic chairs, a few tables, relatives gathered around my mother, who had fainted from crying several times. My father smoked one cigarette after another—I had never seen him smoke before. Then a typical Gulf of Siam downpour brought the funeral to an abrupt end. No one ever found my body; only I watched as it swelled and deformed day by day.