In her past life, Fang Yao had never known the exact date of Xu Qingzhou’s accident only that half a fortnight after their wedding, Wang Hua had brought him home from the hospital, his legs permanently crippled.
So the moment she was told he could not come to the telephone, her composure shattered. “Why? Why can’t he speak to me? Has something happened?” Her voice broke into tears.
The operator, alarmed by her distress, stammered hurriedly: “No no, Ma’am Lieutenant Xu has simply been deployed on a mission he hasn’t ”
Before he could finish, a sharp voice cut in: “What do you think you’re saying? Have you no respect for confidentiality?”
The young operator pleaded: “Sir this is no outsider! It is Lieutenant Xu’s wife! She is distraught with worry!”
“Rules are rules! Return to your post and copy the Code of Military Discipline ten times! And if you still cannot remember it you shall sweep the main gate tomorrow! You incompetent fool!”
Fang Yao stood frozen, telephone pressed to her ear. She had always held the military in the highest regard its members upright, honourable. Now she saw with her own eyes: the discipline was absolute. A line no one not even the most loyal soldier might ever cross.
“Hello? Ma’am this is Lieutenant Xu’s comrade speaking. Please do not be alarmed.” The voice that had been thundering moments earlier now spoke with gentle courtesy, transformed entirely.
“I I am all right,” Fang Yao said unsteadily. “I understand your regulations. I should not have pressed.”
Sensing her deep distress, the officer spoke with genuine concern.
“Please do not blame yourself. Every wife worries when her husband is away. But I give you my word Lieutenant Xu is one of our finest. The Commander himself has praised him repeatedly as an example for us all. Go home, rest, and trust in him. The moment he is able he shall telephone you back at once.”
With that assurance, Fang Yao could press no further. She replaced the receiver.
She did not know at the very moment the line went dead a stricken voice spoke behind the officer.
“Captain Xun… word from Yinshan. The rescue team led by Lieutenant Xu… they were caught in a landslide. Trying to save several reckless recruits. None have survived.”
“What did you say?” Xun Ying seized the operator by the collar, his eyes blazing red and bloodshot. The calm, confident promises he had just spoken into the telephone exploded in his mind like shrapnel.
Fang Yao rode home beneath a crushing weight of dread. She stepped through the door and her legs gave way. She sank to the floor, shivering. She had let the fire die out; the room was bitter cold. She huddled, arms wrapped tight and suddenly ached for him. For those quiet nights when he had risen to stoke the stove, warming the room for her.
“Yao Yao? Are you home?” Wang Hua knocked at the door, seeing the bicycle in the yard.
Fang Yao pulled herself upright, forcing a smile that did not reach her ashen face, and opened the door.
“Yes, Mother I have just come in.”
“What did Qingzhou say? Cannot he come home?”
Wang Hua saw the desolation in her face at once. She drew Fang Yao to the bed, took her cold hands in hers, and turned to light the fire.
As the flames caught, she spoke gently. “Yao Yao I know your heart is heavy. But some things are beyond our power to change. We must learn to bear them. Qingzhou’s service is his life when duty calls, he must go. When it is done, he shall return. Worrying changes nothing. Live your life well here. If loneliness weighs on you ride home to your parents for a visit. But do not grieve yourself into sorrow.”
“Mother I am truly fine. Having you beside me is enough.” Fang Yao met Wang Hua’s calm gaze, striving to hide her terror. For she knew no one would grieve more deeply than this mother should harm befall him. Xu Qingzhou was not merely her husband; he was Wang Hua’s whole world.
“Have you eaten? My stomach feels unwell I shall not eat this evening.” Fang Yao stood, changing the subject deliberately.
Wang Hua, seeing her pale, grew alarmed. “If you are unwell let me fetch the doctor at once!”
“No need, Mother. I have simply eaten too much lately. Indigestion nothing more. It has happened before. Fasting a little shall set it right.” She settled onto the bed, yawning wearily.
The fire kindled warmth through the room, and colour returned slowly to her cheeks. Wang Hua, seeing her exhaustion, said no more. “Rest then, child. I shall prepare supper and leave yours warming on the stove. Eat whenever you are hungry.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
Fang Yao watched her leave, then leaned back against the headboard. Her eyes dimmed with dread. Visions of Xu Qingzhou broken, crippled, alone haunted her mind until she slept.
And in her dream, she was there again on the day of her own death. She watched her own coffin lowered into the earth. And there Xu Qingzhou in his wheelchair, standing silent behind the crowd.
Wang Hua too was gone. He was alone. Emaciated, frail as a reed that might snap in the wind. He stared at the fresh earth covering her coffin motionless, lifeless, carved of stone.
Fang Yao did not marvel that she could see this from beyond the grave. It was only a dream anything was possible.
She followed him home. Late one night, from the room beside his, rose sounds of shameless indulgence. And Xu Qingzhou sat silent in the dim light holding a bottle of pesticide in his hands. His eyes were dark, bottomless pools of ink, void of all light.
Fang Yao thought he meant to end his own life. She tried again and again to reach him to stop him but her hands passed straight through him, as though she were smoke.
Then he turned his wheelchair. He gripped the bottle and wheeled next door. To the bed where Xu Manjiang and Li Xuemiao lay asleep, sated and careless. He pried open their jaws and poured the poison down their throats.
And as they woke screaming in agony, he watched them die.
And in his eyes light returned. A cruel, blazing light of vengeance fulfilled. It pierced the veil between life and death and met her gaze, straight and true.
Fang Yao gasped aloud sucking in air.
She woke bathed in sweat, hand pressed to her chest, heart hammering. The dream was gone but the dread remained.
Morning light streamed through the window. And then came the knock. The voice she had dreaded most called out from the gate.
“Wang Hua! Fang Yao! My husband has ridden back from the city with news… your Qingzhou he was injured last night…”