Pingtan was a magical place full of old, mottled houses with black tiles and white walls. When we left the hospital, Fatty led the way. We took a black motorcycle and went through one old village after another. The motorcycle owner charged us a lot of money and Fatty felt that we were being defrauded. After arguing with the other party for a long time, the motorcycle owner said that he was already showing us consideration. We could take a taxi and see for ourselves. The taxis in this place made the headlines once they started running the meter.

I was wearing slippers as I lazily wandered into the village. I could hear the sound of the waves in the distance. The old houses here were densely packed together and many of the old walls were made of stone. There was a stark contrast between the white walls and black tiles that made both appear especially vivid. After staring at them for a long time, I almost felt as if I was in an ink wash painting.

Half of the village was on flat ground with the sea on the outskirts, while the other half was on the slope of the reef mountain. We walked up the steps to the village. As Fatty looked at the house numbers one by one, I began to look over the house eaves at the distant sea. There were some terraces interspersed between the village and the beach that were covered in dense vegetation. That, coupled with the blue sky and white clouds, made me feel particularly content.

Fatty asked me why I was so relaxed all of a sudden. I told him that I couldn’t help relaxing when I thought that this next thing had nothing to do with what I had done during the previous half of my life. The past decade was considered an amazing feat, so I had nothing to be dissatisfied with.

Fatty said that I finally found a reason to forgive myself and that being terrified for my life was the greatest medicine. I cursed at him and asked what he wanted from me.

Fatty turned his head to light his cigarette and catch his breath before saying to me, "It may have something to do with what happened to you before. Did you know that this island wasn’t called Pingtan Island before? Do you know what it was called a long time ago?"

"Haitan Island. It was also called Zuolan Island." I looked at him smugly, wanting to know what other garbage would come out of his mouth.

"Pingtan Island used to be called Qilin Island," he said faintly.I paused as Fatty took out his phone and brought up a picture. It was an aerial view of Pingtan Island. "What does the island look like? Do you see it?"

I took the phone and almost dropped it when I saw the picture.

The whole flat surface of Pingtan Island was shaped like a Qilin, and its shape was very similar to Poker-Face’s tattoo.

I rubbed my eyes and thought Fatty was lying to me for a moment. I glanced at the watermark on the picture and saw that it definitely belonged to a specialized hydrological website. This was a satellite image from the national website.

"…It’s a lie." My mind had gone completely blank.

Fatty handed me a cigarette and said, "Now you know why your Uncle Two wanted him to stay."

"Why?"

"You always suspected that his tattoo was a map. What do you think? Is it possible his tattoo is a map of the South Sea country? Was the South Sea country’s vast underground river territory something that could be managed by memory alone?” Fatty asked sternly.

I lit the cigarette, inhaled the smoke to calm myself down, and remembered that the map of Poker-Face’s tattoo had nothing to do with the South Sea country. It was a pattern of another place.Fatty continued, "Don't forget that Little Brother went to Xisha with your Uncle Three and Qi Yu back then. So, Qi Yu wasn't the only one who could take your Uncle Three into Falling Cloud Country’s underground territory. It’s very likely Little Brother could, too."

I narrowed my eyes and Fatty hooked his arm around my shoulder. "Little Brother goes roaming around the Fujian mountains and often stays out all night. He’s either sleeping his way through all the villages around us or he’s looking for something."

"What do you mean? Are you saying Little Brother is still hiding something from us?” I asked.

Fatty shook his head, "No, I think the biggest possibility is that he might have found some clues and remembered something when he was traveling in the mountains. Let me give you an example. Say you’re walking along and you see a hair salon. You suddenly remember that you slept with a girl a few days ago and didn't pay her, but you can't remember who it is. It's not a big deal, but you'll think hard about it since it's haunting you."

I looked at Fatty's cell phone and told myself that there was no way this could happen. I had found a place to live in seclusion and ended up finding Little Brother’s memory at the same time.

But after living so long, he may have memories everywhere.

There was no denying the fact that Pingtan Island’s topography was really amazing. Although they weren’t completely identical, the shapes of both Qilin were almost the same. Poker-Face’s tattoo was very exaggerated and I had seen it countless times. The outline in my memory was suffocatingly similar to this satellite image.

"Don’t be so tense. There’s one thing you shouldn’t forget. Many of your preferences were designed according to Qi Yu. Think about it. When you chose Fujian, did it just so happen to coincide with Qi Yu’s habits? Think about it carefully. How did you come up with the idea to stay in Fujian?"

I thought about it and said with certainty, "It's because I love to eat ding bian hu (1)."

****

TN Notes:

(1) Ding Bian Hu is a characteristic dish of Fuzhou cuisine, a branch of Fujian cuisine, consisting of a rice flour batter poured around the side of a cooking wok to form a thin noodle. It’s then scraped into a stock to simmer and served in broth.