come until the next day. When Liujin saw him appear at the courtyard gate, she was like the saying “Dry Mother Earth is thirsting for rain.” She actually blushed.
“The frogs have gone underground, Liujin.” When he talked, a hint of absentmindedness skimmed over his face.
“Really? Here?” Liujin’s voice was merry.
“Really. Right under your courtyard. Otherwise, why would I have set them free here?”
“Then, do you know where they come out? What’s it like underground?”
“No. I don’t know. Maybe from the vent under your house? I’m not sure.”
He continued to stand, and so Liujin had to stand, too. They listened to the frogs in their imaginations. As the sky gradually darkened, Mr. Sherman’s face blurred. She felt that his arm resting on the courtyard wall was unusually long—like a gibbon’s. Suddenly, Liujin thought of her faraway parents, and yearning welled up in her heart. The air vent? A very long time ago, at night, she and her father had actually squatted at the vent under the house and listened; back then, however, it was just like now—they didn’t hear anything. Yet, it wasn’t that they heard nothing: she and her father heard her mother talking nonsense in the house. Her mother kept stupidly imitating a crowing rooster. Whenever she heard it, she wanted to laugh. Her father was critical of her attitude. Mr. Sherman really wasn’t sure where the frogs were. What made him think the frogs were underground? He must have experienced many things that Liujin hadn’t come in contact with. She had encountered his unearthliness in the poplar grove. At the time, she had felt that he came and went mysteriously, and that he was very shrewd. Perhaps it was just because of his shrewdness that it was a long time before she felt affection for him. She was a little afraid and meant to keep her distance.
“I really want a garden of my own.” As Mr. Sherman talked, he removed his thick glasses and wiped them. The two lenses swayed in the moonlight, gleaming like bewitching mirrors. Seeing this, Liujin’s passion for him waned. How could she fathom the ideas of a person like this? Just then, Mr. Sherman laughed softly.
“What are you laughing at?” Liujin was a little annoyed.
“I’m remembering that when I was a child I went barefoot chasing frogs. Frogs were my good friends, but they always teased me.”
Then he put on his glasses and took his leave. Liujin remembered that she had forgotten to even give him the tea that she had prepared. What did she know of this man? Only that his family dyed cloth and lived on the other side of the snow mountain. That’s what he had told her. Liujin went back to sit under the grape arbor, and finished the cup of cold tea. For a moment, she seemed to hear the sound of water, but it was merely an illusion. Turning around, she saw the light on in her house. Had she turned it on earlier, or had it gone on automatically? She definitely hadn’t turned it on, and at the time it wasn’t dark yet. She didn’t want to think about these things. She was too tired. Maybe she should think of some happy, tangible things. Then, what was tangible? It seemed that the beautiful woman in Meng Yu’s home was. That red skirt was so gorgeous, as was that delicate, dreamlike face. That was beauty. And her midnight singing. That, too, was beauty. The magpies and the wagtails weren’t out yet; the courtyard was so quiet that it made her nervous. She decided that she would ask Amy some questions next time. Would Amy let her get close? She was so beautiful that she didn’t seem like a person of this world. Besides, the murderous-looking atmosphere in Meng Yu’s courtyard deliberately kept people away . . . Neighbors, neighbors: What kind of people are you? She felt weary again. The light in the house wasn’t terribly bright. It seemed to be covered with a layer of gauze. Liujin assumed some little insects were flying in the lamplight, as usual, and the gecko had probably also emerged. It was another world inside.
José and his wife walked out of the Pebble Town bus station and stood at the side of the long cement street. The two of them let out deep breaths simultaneously: they felt they had stepped into a picture of the legendary Crystal Palace. The chilly air was clear and fresh, and under the high, distant, steel-blue sky, the street seemed very wide. The sidewalk was made of pretty, colorful stones. Elms alternated with oleasters, screening the quiet avenue. In the middle of the road, men looking down at the ground were slowly pulling a few flatbed carts. The simple houses were quite far from the road; each house had clumps of greenery out front. José and his wife were a little taken aback as they stood under a tree with their bags at their feet. This small frontier town was beyond their expectations; to them, it felt like a utopia. After a while, the rickshaw from their workplace arrived; it was a pedicab whose driver was a big fellow with a black beard. He helped them pile their heavy luggage into the front, and asked them to take seats in the back. Then he started pedaling slowly and effortlessly. He was a virile man who evidently didn’t like to talk much. José and his wife felt it wouldn’t be right to talk, so they enjoyed the view of the beautiful town in silence. Pebble Town apparently had only one street because they saw no forks in the road. When the rickshaw reached the end of this straight road, it went up an asphalt path. On one side of the path was a small river; on the other side were poplars. No one was on the road. There were only birds chirping in the trees. After they made a few turns, the river and the poplars disappeared, and a rocky hill stood before them. The driver got down, saying he had to pee, and then he disappeared.
The husband and wife waited and waited on that desolate hill before finally suspecting they’d been tricked. They didn’t know how to pedal the rickshaw, but if they walked off and abandoned it, they wouldn’t be able to take their luggage. Nancy squatted on the ground and sighed. José thought to himself, She’s always like this; whenever something happens, she sighs. He hastily estimated that it was almost two miles to the main road, and the road wasn’t good. Besides, it was almost evening. They had to leave their luggage behind and get away from here soon. They had to find their workplace. He didn’t dare spend the night with his wife in the fields of the frontier. It could be dangerous. After talking it over briefly, they walked away holding hands.
It was hard walking on that path. It was filled with jutting rocks, and they almost tripped and fell several times. Nancy was nearsighted and couldn’t easily walk in the dark. She had to hang on tightly to José’s arm and let him guide her. It seemed it wasn’t just two miles, but maybe more than three or four miles. When they finally got back to the main road, they were too tired to talk. The main road was empty, yet extravagantly lit; they leaned against a power pole waiting for someone to appear.
It was about half an hour before they came across someone. He was dripping wet from walking up from the river. When José went up and made inquiries, he replied, “Didn’t you see me? I was watching you from the river all along! The boss sent me. I was afraid of making a mistake, so I didn’t call out to you. Everyone from the office is out looking for you.”
“But we’ve left our luggage in the wilds.”
“Don’t worry. Someone picked it up quite a while ago. You ran into a madman, didn’t you? It was a prank. People here are fond of doing that. Follow me—Pebble Town welcomes you!”
The two of them looked up at the same time and saw a flock of geese flying in the deep blue sky. They almost wept.
It was very cool after dark, so even though they had walked a long way they didn’t feel hot. They were the only ones on this road. Such a quiet little town.
That night, the dripping wet middle-aged man took them to the guesthouse of the Construction Design Institute. As they entered the room, they saw their luggage. Lying on the bed, Nancy couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. She seemed to dread the future. Every few seconds, she whispered into the dark, “It didn’t occur to me.” José thought his wife was blaming him, but he was excited, even . . . radiant. He liked challenges. He heard someone turn on the water in the next room, perhaps taking a bath. He kept listening; the sound of water continued. He remembered the small river outside the town, and the man standing in the river. Had the man