“Ask him if he also looked for Zhou Nan at the time and what deal he struck with him.”
“You think he’ll tell me?” Yu Jingsong shook his head.
“Of course. But life is at stake. After hearing that Zhou Nan is dead, he might change his mind. Also, ask about the criminal who was sentenced and imprisoned. It was all caused by his wicked actions.”
“Alright, I’ll try,” Yu Jingsong said, opening a hard-cover notebook. He noted down the time of the Hǎiyǔ Avenue car accident, the names of the victim and the defendant, the presiding court, and the victim’s acting lawyer. Then, he snapped the book shut and stood up.
Leaving Yúnzhuó Law Firm, I let out a long sigh and walked towards the subway station, intending to take the subway to Dǒng Sījié’s real estate agency. Yesterday, I discussed with Dǒng Sījié about borrowing his Suteng for a few days. Dǒng Sījié readily agreed and told me to pick it up myself, as the car was parked in the company’s backyard.
This station is called University of Military Medicine General Hospital Station. Nearby is the city’s largest general hospital, and it’s also an interchange with another subway line. Therefore, even though it wasn’t the peak rush hour for students and commuters, there were still many passengers getting on and off.
I approached the street-level subway station entrance. Several men were smoking outside the entrance. Piles of cigarette butts were already accumulating at their feet; it seemed many passengers needed to take a quick smoke break here before entering the station. I suddenly felt like smoking too, so I went to a nearby tobacco shop, bought a pack of cigarettes, and lit one. My mind has been troubled recently, and smoking seems to bring me a moment of peace. The smoking habit I had finally kicked had insidiously returned.
At the subway station entrance, there was a traffic sign, and below it, an advertisement for painless abortions at Aijia International Hospital. This reminded me of what Yáng Jīnyǐng had said last night. She said she had an abortion at Aijia International Hospital, and the child she lost was our daughter. So, while smoking, I called Aijia International Hospital.
The call was connected, and a soft-voiced woman asked what I needed. I said I was looking for Director Xu. I had visited the hospital a few days ago, and Director Xu had seen me and asked me to contact her again later. The other party apologized, saying Director Xu was off today and if the matter wasn’t urgent, I could call back tomorrow.
I thanked her and said there was one more thing I wanted to inquire about: “Does Aijia Hospital have an obstetrics and gynecology department? Do you perform pregnancy termination surgeries?”
“What did you say?” the woman asked, a little strangely, as if she hadn’t understood.
“I asked if your hospital performs abortions,” I said, using a more common term.
“No. We never perform that kind of surgery,” the woman replied, her tone becoming cold. “I’m sorry, if there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up now,” she said, and disconnected the call.
I was a bit surprised, not understanding what I had offended. I strolled towards the station entrance. Suddenly, I understood the reason for her change in attitude: I had been too rash, asking an inappropriate question. Aijia International is a foreign-funded hospital with a church background; how could such a hospital offer pregnancy termination services?
However, the question that made my scalp tingle was: if what she said was true, then Yáng Jīnyǐng’s claim last night that she had been pregnant with my child and had, at my suggestion, terminated the pregnancy at Aijia Hospital, was clearly a fabrication. Why would she do that? If she lied about this, then how credible was her attitude regarding Níngníng’s paternity test?
I stubbed out my cigarette and, with a heavy heart, stepped onto the escalator, descending to the underground platform. Then, something unbelievable happened.
It was August 1st, 9:15 AM, at the University of Military Medicine General Hospital Station.
Day Five · 2 Encountering the Dream Woman
However, the question that made my scalp tingle was: if what she said was true, then Yáng Jīnyǐng’s claim last night that she had been pregnant with my child and had, at my suggestion, terminated the pregnancy at Aijia Hospital, was clearly a fabrication. Why would she do that? If she lied about this, then how credible was her attitude regarding Níngníng’s paternity test?
I stubbed out my cigarette and, with a heavy heart, stepped onto the escalator, descending to the underground platform. Then, something unbelievable happened.
It was August 1st, 9:15 AM, at the University of Military Medicine General Hospital Station.
Today was destined to be an even more frenzied day.
At 9:15 AM, at the University of Military Medicine subway station. I descended via the escalator from the entrance, preparing to take the subway to Dǒng Sījié’s company. The escalator moved slowly, with people filling every step. The escalator going up on the opposite side was equally crowded, resembling two tightly packed ranks of infantry. As I neared the platform, my gaze was suddenly drawn to a young woman on the platform. She was walking towards the escalator, about to leave. The woman was in her thirties, with a serene expression, wearing an elegant green suit skirt and a white ribbon tied in her hair. Her thick hair was loosely bound by the ribbon, exuding a graceful and tranquil aura that was reflected vividly in her soft, fresh, childlike face.
My body stiffened. I stared at the woman, as if captivated by an invisible magnetic force emanating from her. My breathing quickened, and my heart pounded. At first, I didn’t understand why. I felt a sense of daze, as if I had entered a dream state.
Unconsciously, I reached the platform. At this moment, the woman in green had already boarded the escalator and was moving upwards. I turned around to follow her onto the up escalator, but my knee hit the metal corner of the escalator. The pain caused me to stagger and lose my balance. Along with the pain in my knee, a more intense dizziness overwhelmed me, and I felt like a dart shot by a child, spinning and flying into the air. The woman in the green skirt was still on the escalator. She seemed to notice me and leaned forward, giving me a slight smile.
At some point, a subway train arrived and stopped silently at the platform. The surroundings were eerily quiet, without any sound. The ant-like crowd had frozen in place, as if time had stopped.
Then, a bizarre phenomenon occurred: my soul seemed to detach from my body and slowly drift towards the woman in green, merging with her. For a moment, I felt like I had become her. Even more incredible, I saw another me through her eyes: a weary man in a crumpled, dirty white T-shirt with a gray collar, gray casual pants, and hair as messy as wild grass growing in autumn. "I" staggered out of a hazy, somber darkness, walking along a winding mountain path that seemed to have no end...
Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, everything returned to normal. The cacophony of sounds erupted like an explosion. The mysterious woman in green, like a goddess, vanished from the escalator in the blink of an eye.
I opened my eyes and stared disappointedly in the direction she had disappeared. Finally, I understood. I had just encountered the woman I had dreamed about. On a sunlit bus, she was calmly breastfeeding her child, her dignified and natural demeanor bringing me immense warmth and comfort.
I rushed to the escalator and ran out of the subway station, hoping to catch up with her. But it was too late; she had already disappeared into the vast crowd. However, I believed she would return. No matter what it took, no matter how long it took, I had to see her again.
Day Five · 3 Wén Xīnjié in the Surveillance Camera
The encounter at the subway station and the delay in meeting Yu Jingsong meant that by the time I retrieved my car from Dǒng Sījié’s real estate agency and drove to the newly built high-speed railway station on the outskirts, it was already 10:30 AM. The train carrying my parents had just arrived. I lit a cigarette at the exit, and as soon as I took a puff, the crowd of disembarking passengers surged out.
Soon, I spotted them in the crowd: a pair of small, frail elderly people, each with a large canvas bag on their back, struggling to move through the throng, pushed along as if by waves. I pulled my mother’s bag onto my left shoulder and tried to lift my father’s bag, but found it too heavy. My parents carried it together as we walked towards the parking lot.
After putting the two large bags into the trunk, I chided them in a scolding tone, asking why they brought so much stuff from so far away, given their poor health. They ignored me. I asked again what was inside. Their answer nearly made me faint: it was cornmeal, dried sweet potatoes, glutinous millet, and over a dozen freshly picked young corn ears. They said it was for Wén Xīnjié and Níngníng, and they also wanted to give some to their in-laws. They had heard somewhere that young corn was popular in the city now.
I took them on a tour of the city’s skyscrapers and the newly built riverside wetland park. It was almost noon. Driving back to the city, we met my sister's family at the Xianheng Restaurant.
I had deliberately chosen Xianheng Restaurant for lunch. It was a place of unforgettable memories for me. A few days ago, I had a meal here under confusing circumstances, and that same day, I discovered my wife had left without a word. My bizarre experiences began then. The restaurant’s surveillance footage indicated a discrepancy in my memory; I was the only one dining that day, not Wén Xīnjié.
As the car turned onto Huanyuan Road, I saw the restaurant’s sign. My eyes began scanning for roadside surveillance cameras. Sure enough, on the wall of the Industrial and Commercial Bank next to the restaurant, I spotted two cameras. I sighed, thinking that if all else failed, I would have to report everything truthfully to the police and ask them to retrieve the surveillance footage.
My sister's family had already arrived and hadn’t dared to order anything. The waiter politely poured each of them a cup of plain water. After we entered, I immediately asked the waiter to take our order. The waiter approached me with a knowing smile. I immediately recognized her as the young manager who had served me before. She had been patrolling the front desk but, upon seeing us enter, had taken over from the on-duty server and personally came to take our order.
I ordered Beggar’s Chicken, West Lake Vinegar Fish, and Dongpo Pork. For my father and brother-in-law, I ordered a pound of 20-year Huadiao wine. When the wine arrived, except for my father and brother-in-law, I asked my mother and sister to taste some as well. After meeting, my mother asked about Wén Xīnjié and Níngníng. Upon arriving at the restaurant, she asked why they weren't here. I vaguely replied that they were still staying at her parents’ home, Níngníng was in preschool, and they would visit in a few days. My father, hearing that my wife and child were still staying at her parents' home, looked displeased and repeated what he had said countless times: a wife should keep house and not constantly visit her maiden family. Since she married into the Tang family, she was a Tang family member, and the Tang family was her home. My mother, however, leaned to the other extreme, saying the Wén family had put a lot of effort into taking care of Níngníng, and they must make time to visit them and thank them in person while they were here.
I had previously instructed Meng Yin not to reveal my family situation. Hearing this, I kept glancing at her, afraid she couldn’t keep a secret. Fortunately, although she was panting as if she had something to say, she managed to hold back. I then asked about my father’s health. He replied that there was nothing serious, just the usual ailments of old age. He added that if it was convenient, he would get checked this time, otherwise, they could discuss it later. After observing him for this period, I also felt he was fine and agreed to stay for a check-up.
When ordering, I noticed the young manager’s expressions were quite varied, clearly indicating she had something to tell me. As we were finishing our meal, my sister and mother were chatting about family matters. I excused myself, saying I was going to settle the bill, and went to find the young manager. She was indeed waiting for me. Seeing me approach, she led me to her office.
“It’s a family gathering today, isn’t it? I didn’t see your wife. Has she not returned yet?” the young manager asked.
I detected an underlying meaning in her words. Gazing into her eyes, I asked in a low voice:
“No. What did you discover? Did she really come here?”
“That’s right, your wife did come, but not on the 28th at noon as you said. It was on the morning of the 27th, during morning tea time…”
I could hardly believe it, but I immediately recalled that Wén Xīnjié’s phone records indicated she was indeed in this area that morning. While my mind was frantically processing this information, the young manager opened the computer on her desk and pointed to the screen. It was a video recording. The first part showed the front lobby of Xianheng Restaurant. Morning sunlight streamed into the hotel, bathing the entire scene in a brilliant golden hue. Against this backdrop, Wén Xīnjié walked in casually. I stared at her in the video, so tense that I didn’t even blink. She was wearing a light green silk sun hat, a purple T-shirt, white capri pants, and a cream-colored small crossbody bag over her shoulder. Due to the strong backlight, her face was somewhat obscured, making it difficult to see her expression. As soon as she entered the restaurant, her face brightened, appearing exceptionally fair and rosy: her expression was filled with joy and anticipation, a happy smile as if meeting a lover for a secret rendezvous. Seeing it, my heart immediately tightened.
Wén Xīnjié walked towards a window seat in the distance. There, she gracefully turned around, facing the camera, and gave a knowing smile to a man sitting opposite her. The smile was meaningful, as if celebrating the success of a conspiracy. Due to the distance and the obstruction of the table dividers, only the back of the man’s head was visible. I asked the young manager to pause the video so I could get a clear look at the man’s face. Wén Xīnjié must have left with this person. They seemed very familiar and trusted each other. This suggested that my initial suspicions might have been correct, and the text message I received must have been true. Wén Xīnjié left with someone she knew; she was going to leave me, to leave our home. All my worries and suspicions over the past few days were just my wishful thinking.
The young manager ignored my request, and the video continued. The camera shifted, and Wén Xīnjié and the man had finished breakfast and were walking towards the lobby. The man followed Wén Xīnjié, walking slowly. I held my breath. His figure gradually grew larger and clearer. However, there was no need to look closely. From the moment he stood up and turned, I recognized him. It turned out to be myself.
On the morning of July 27th, Wén Xīnjié and I had breakfast together at Xianheng Restaurant and left together. My memory hadn’t been completely lost; it was just a temporal displacement, confusing the morning of the previous day with the noon of the next day.
Day Five · 4 Secret Surveillance
At 3 PM, I returned to the University of Military Medicine General Hospital Station.
The encounter with that woman, coupled with the surveillance footage from Xianheng Restaurant just now, made me realize that if I wasn’t going mad, the world was likely on the verge of insanity.
Sitting on a waiting bench on the subway platform, I felt fortunate to be in the air-conditioned station with a place to sit. I decided to wait patiently until I saw her again. I didn’t think my behavior was impulsive or ridiculous, nor did I believe I was mentally ill. Yes, I had some mental issues during this period, but my cognitive functions were intact. When I realized my wife had been with me before her disappearance, I became even more convinced of a certain principle: all things thought of and dreamed of, though seemingly illusory, actually hold true meaning and possess a special internal logical connection, which one simply cannot grasp at the moment. I guessed that this lovely woman in green must have some mysterious intersection with the part of my life I had lost my memory of. She was brought into my dreams by my remaining rationality; she was sending me a signal, like a beam of light entering my dark and chaotic consciousness. I had to seize this opportunity to find her immediately, and with her guidance, recover my lost memories and find the true cause of Wén Xīnjié’s disappearance and other events.
I tried to guess where this young woman came from and where she was going after getting off here. The nearby University of Military Medicine should be a destination; furthermore, it was close to the commercial streets of the old town, so she might be here for shopping. I decided to stay here today. If I couldn’t wait, I would search the hospital or the commercial streets tomorrow. This determination stemmed from an inner premonition that I would gain something this time, that I would make a discovery.
I stood and sat alternately, my gaze never leaving exit C, where the mysterious woman in green had disappeared. Trains came and went frequently. Every time a train stopped, I would glance in its direction. At 3:45 PM, a westbound train pulled in, and more than half the passengers disembarked. The platform was crowded at that moment, and before those waiting could fully board, a lot of space opened up inside the train cars. Thus, I unexpectedly saw a woman sitting in car number 5, closest to me. I immediately froze. It was another unexpected person: Yáng Jīnyǐng. Because I had spoken to her on the phone just minutes ago, and she had told me she was at home. But there was no subway near her home, and there was no way she could have flown to a subway car in a few minutes.
How many times had she lied to me in my memory? Also, where was she going at this time and what was she doing, piqued my curiosity immensely. This morning, after seeing a photograph of Chéng Yǔshān, who had died in a car accident the autumn before last, and almost mistaking her for the same person, I immediately realized that this woman was the biggest mystery I had to face, perhaps even the biggest threat. Therefore, I rushed to see Yú Jìngsōng and commissioned him to investigate Chéng Yǔshān’s family background to see if she had any other relatives.
Yáng Jīnyǐng was wearing a sapphire blue short-sleeved top with loose white striped trousers. She looked deeply focused, displaying a sense of calm and intellect I had never seen before, much like the Chéng Yǔshān in the photograph. She hadn’t noticed me outside the window; her attention was entirely on her phone screen, clearly communicating with someone. Who was this person who commanded such focus? I had to change my plan and quietly moved to the entrance of car number 6, boarded from there, and squeezed my way to stand near the connection between the two carriages to observe.
The train headed west. After five or six stops, Yáng Jīnyǐng showed no intention of getting off. City C is oval-shaped, short from north to south and long from east to west. So, we were still within the city at this point. However, moving further would take us into the suburbs, and the subway’s terminus was at the Northern Convention and Exhibition Center, outside the western part of the city.
As expected, the train reached the terminus at the Convention and Exhibition Center when Yáng Jīnyǐng finally stood up to get off. I quietly followed her out of the carriage, walked through an underground passageway, and entered a luxurious hall. When I recognized it as the iconic Xuán Yún Hotel of the Convention and Exhibition Center, Yáng Jīnyǐng had already bypassed the central island lounge in the hall and was heading towards the east-side passageway. The sign indicated it led to Block B of the hotel. I followed her into the passageway and found she had reached the elevator lobby. She was alone in the elevator lobby. The elevator arrived, and she stepped inside. I hurried over and pressed the elevator button. At the same time, I stared intently at the indicator lights of the elevator Yáng Jīnyǐng was in and saw that it stopped at the fourth floor.