She must be Aunt Liu’s daughter.
When he looked again, he saw the girl still in the same posture, staring straight ahead.
Logically, standing up here on the second floor, being such a big figure and clearly watching her, she should’ve noticed—at the very least, glanced up.
Was she just lost in thought?
Li Zhuiyuan raised a hand and waved. He was sure the movement was big enough to catch anyone’s eye. But… nothing.
The girl still sat there, feet planted on the threshold, unmoving. No raised head, no turned neck, not even a blink.
Was she blind?
Li Zhuiyuan called out, “Hello there.”
Still no reaction.
Deaf and mute, too?A heavy wave of pity rose in Li Zhuiyuan’s chest.
Kids at this age were usually pure-minded, untouched by adult thoughts. Even Li Zhuiyuan was no exception.
He was simply pained by the idea. If the girl really was disabled, it was like something beautiful had been crudely slashed open, raw and bloody. Anyone, man or woman, would feel the loss.
“Little Yuanhou.”
Aunt Liu’s voice came from behind. She walked up beside him with a smile. “Little Yuanhou, that’s Auntie’s daughter, Qin Li.”
Li Zhuiyuan nodded.
“Alright, come on in now. Auntie will help you set your things up.”
Li Zhuiyuan was slightly surprised. Aunt Liu had only mentioned her daughter’s name, nothing more. Normally, she'd say something like how old she was, whether she was younger or older, and then, “You two can play together from now on.”
There wasn’t much to arrange. After putting everything in place, Aunt Liu clapped her hands and said, “The toilet’s out back on the first floor. At night, you can use the chamber pot in the room.”
“Okay, got it, Aunt Liu.”
“I’ll go start cooking. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
“Mm.”
When he stepped outside and returned to the rooftop balcony, Li Zhuiyuan couldn’t help but look that way again.
The girl still sat exactly as before, staring forward. She looked like she'd been frozen there, never having moved an inch.
Then, he saw Uncle Qin walk over and squat in front of her, speaking gently.
But the girl stayed exactly the same. Not a flicker of movement, not even a glance toward her father.
It felt like—even though she was there—she had no sensory connection to the world at all.
Uncle Qin noticed him and waved. “Hello there, young one.”
Li Zhuiyuan replied, “Hello, Uncle.”
“Little Yuanhou, come down to eat!” Li Sanjiang’s voice called from downstairs.
Li Zhuiyuan was surprised. That quick?
Downstairs, in the gap between the paper effigies, two square stools had been pushed together as a makeshift table. On top were plates of marinated pig’s head meat, pig ears, cold kelp salad, and fried peanuts.
No wonder it had been fast. Everything was likely bought earlier from the market.
“Sit,” said Li Sanjiang, uncapping a bottle of baijiu and pouring himself a full glass.
Li Zhuiyuan sat on a small stool across from him, staring at the bowl of rice piled high in front of him.
“Great-Grandpa, I can’t eat this much.”
“Heh, I know that,” chuckled Li Sanjiang. “You eat what you can. The rest’s mine.”
“Oh.”
Li Zhuiyuan began eating.
Li Sanjiang held out his glass. “Little Yuanhou, want a sip?”
Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Kids can’t drink.”
“That’s right, that’s right.” Li Sanjiang was only teasing. He brought the cup back and took a hefty swig, then popped a few peanuts into his mouth. “Not this good at your Hanhou house, right?”
“Grandma’s pickles are really tasty too.”
“Heh.”
Li Sanjiang picked out a chunk of pig snout and dropped it into Li Zhuiyuan’s bowl.
“Your grandparents are fools, always spoiling those brats. If you ask me, raising your kids is enough. No need to be a slave to the grandkids. Your grandma’s whole life, she’s just been a servant to her children.”
“Honestly, if your grandpa didn’t have so many mouths to feed, he wouldn’t need to water down his rice gruel. He could even enjoy a little drink each night.”
Li Zhuiyuan kept eating quietly, saying nothing.
“You’re different.” Li Sanjiang waved his hand. “Your mom paid money. But those uncles of yours, now they’re the real ingrates. Shameless lot.”
Li Zhuiyuan continued his meal.
“Soup’s here.” Aunt Liu came in with a seaweed and egg-drop soup, placing it on the stool. “You two go ahead and eat.”
Then she left. Only now did Li Zhuiyuan realize Aunt Liu’s family didn’t eat with Great-Grandpa.
“Little Yuanhou, there’s something I should warn you about,” Li Sanjiang said. “Now that you’re staying here, you can go anywhere around the house, except the east room.”
The east room—where the girl sat.
“Why not?”
“Tinghou’s daughter stays in the east room,” said Li Sanjiang, tapping his temple with the back end of his chopsticks. “That little girl’s not right in the head. Don’t go near her. If she scratches or bites you, that’s trouble.”
Scratches? Bites?
Li Zhuiyuan found it hard to picture that quiet girl, Qin Li, behaving that way.
“Don’t take it lightly. When they first moved in a couple years back, I gave her candy. The moment I put it in her hand, she flung it away and lunged at me like a wild animal—scratching and biting like crazy. Not even a Dead Sinker is that fierce.”
“I understand, Great-Grandpa.”
Good. So she wasn’t blind or deaf after all.
“Mm. Eat up. Once we’re done, I’ll perform the Sitting Vigil for you.”
Li Zhuiyuan finished first and set down his chopsticks. Li Sanjiang followed suit, setting his wine aside and digging into the rice.
The toilet was out back. As Li Zhuiyuan stepped outside and walked around the courtyard, he saw the girl being led inside by an old granny.
She must be Aunt Liu’s mother-in-law.
In that old woman, Li Zhuiyuan saw a faint resemblance to his northern grandmother—dignified and graceful.
The girl sat at the table without picking up her chopsticks. The granny kept softly coaxing her.
When he came back from the toilet, the girl had started eating. She only touched what was in her bowl, while the granny served her from a small dish.
He noticed the old lady’s eyes flicker toward him but she didn’t greet him. Li Zhuiyuan hesitated, then chose not to greet her either.
Back inside, Li Sanjiang had finished eating. Aunt Liu was tidying up.
“Little Yuanhou, the place to bathe is upstairs, farthest room at the end. Auntie’s already drawn the hot water. It might be a bit hot—add cold water if you need.”
“Thank you, Auntie.”
Upstairs, full and content, Li Sanjiang was now sprawled on a rattan recliner he’d dragged out from who-knows-where, a toothpick in one hand and a cigarette in the other, humming a little tune and burping boozily.
Li Zhuiyuan’s eyes lingered on the recliner.
“Hah, I’ll have Lihou get one for you at the market tomorrow.”
Lihou must be Uncle Qin.
“Okay.” Li Zhuiyuan grinned. He did want one.
“Bathroom’s over there,” Li Sanjiang pointed. “You go first, then I’ll go.”
“Got it.”
The bathroom was narrow—clearly a later addition—with a rubber hose hooked up to a rooftop tank.
Li Zhuiyuan tested the water. A bit hot, but manageable without cooling it.
After a quick rinse, he came out and saw Li Sanjiang already getting up. “Wait in my room.”
“Alright.”
By now, it was fully dark outside. The moon hung high in the sky.
Li Zhuiyuan glanced again toward the east room. Its door was closed now, light glowing from within.
He opened Li Sanjiang’s door and stepped inside. Feeling along the wall by the doorframe, he found the pull cord.
“Click.”
The light came on.
The furnishings in Great-Grandpa’s bedroom were almost identical to his own room—a worn bed, an old wardrobe.
But in the center, where it should’ve been empty, there was a circle of intricate symbols and a row of tiny candles. Beside them lay a spread-open book on the floor.
Li Zhuiyuan picked it up.
It wasn’t printed—it was handwritten.
On the cover were the words: The Sutra of Golden Thread and Silken Spiral (《金沙罗文经》).
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