Qingmu saw Ma Fuqing's eyes darting about, but none of the surprise he should have shown at seeing them.
"You seem to have known we were coming?" Qingmu asked him.
Ma Fuqing hurriedly denied it. "No, no. My mother has a bit of a temper and doesn't like strangers coming to our house. I'm very sorry."
Qingmu and Hu Xing followed Ma Fuqing through the gate.
Ma Fuqing's house was quite spacious, a small two-story home two sections deep, with front and back courtyards.
Qingmu wandered around the courtyard, the clop-clop of his slippers against the ground making Ma Fuqing very uncomfortable.
"Let's go inside," Ma Fuqing urged. "It's cool in there, and there's chilled watermelon."
"Aren't you even going to ask why we're here?" Qingmu was in no hurry, strolling all the way from the front courtyard to the back.
"It's my own fault for troubling you, Master, and this police officer." Ma Fuqing trembled with apprehension.
The Ma family's front courtyard was planted with plenty of melons and fruit, but the back courtyard was empty except for a lone old locust tree.
Qingmu stood in the shade beneath the locust tree, circled it once, and said, "Nice tree. It's cool here."
Perhaps it was the heat, but sweat dripped down Ma Fuqing's face. "Master, let's talk inside."
Just then, a clanking of chains came from somewhere, accompanied by a low growl.
"Do you keep a Tibetan mastiff?" Hu Xing listened for the direction of the sound and confirmed that it came from inside the house.
"Oh, no, it's not a Tibetan mastiff. Just an ordinary... pet dog." More and more sweat covered Ma Fuqing's face, and his clothes were soaked through.
Qingmu gave Hu Xing a look. "Let's go in and sit down, then."
Like all rural houses, the Ma family's living room was large but sparsely furnished. A square eight-person table stood in the middle, surrounded by several long wooden benches. An old thirty-two-inch television sat in the corner. The walls were coated in plain white paint, their surfaces mottled, with some patches already showing signs of peeling.
The air conditioner wasn't on, but all the curtains were drawn, shutting out the heat. With several electric fans running at once, it was quite cool. This, however, also made the room seem somewhat dim and stuffy.
Ma Fuqing's mother sat in the corner watching television, with a fan blowing on her alone. The light from the screen flickered over her face, now bright, now dark. Hu Xing kept finding her face sinister, and coupled with the apparent ill will she bore toward their arrival, the sight inevitably sent a chill through her.
She quietly told Qingmu what she thought. He said indifferently, "Doesn't that make it even cooler?"
Ma Fuqing brought over sliced, chilled watermelon, set it on the table, and invited them to eat. Then he took a slice himself and picked out every black and white seed, one by one. Only when nothing but clean flesh remained did he bring it to his mother. "Mom, have some."
"He's a filial son, too." Hu Xing felt a little more favorably toward Ma Fuqing for no particular reason.
Qingmu smiled without speaking. Except in dreams, he never judged human nature lightly. Through the long pressures of survival and evolution, humans had learned far too many disguises. Even in dreams, the subconscious sometimes deceived itself, let alone in front of strangers.
Ma Fuqing's mother snatched the watermelon without ceremony and continued watching television without so much as a sideways glance. Her face showed no expression at all. Hu Xing almost thought she was a clay statue.
Ma Fuqing waited beside her. His mother took a bite of watermelon and encountered a seed he had missed. She spat it onto Ma Fuqing with a "pfft" and hurled the watermelon onto the floor.
Hu Xing stared, dumbfounded, and muttered, "So she's a crazy old woman!"
Ma Fuqing's mother turned her head, fixed her eyes on Hu Xing, and asked Ma Fuqing, "What did she say?" Half her face reflected the television's light, while the other half lay hidden in darkness. Her eyes were fierce, as though she had spotted an enemy.
Ma Fuqing hurriedly stepped in front of his mother. "Nothing, nothing. She was talking about herself."
He turned and gave Qingmu and Hu Xing a few awkward chuckles, then fetched a broom from the corner and swept up the rind and the bits of watermelon scattered across the floor.
His mother kept staring at Hu Xing, making her uncomfortable all over.
After sweeping the floor, Ma Fuqing took another slice of watermelon from the table and picked out the seeds even more carefully. When he finished, he checked it over and over. Only once he was certain no seeds remained did he take it to his mother again.
His mother pushed Ma Fuqing's hand away. "I don't want any." Then she rose and went into the inner rooms.
As the door leading from the living room to the inner rooms opened, there came another clatter of chains.
Ma Fuqing could finally sit down.
"I'm really sorry! Um... here, have some watermelon." Ma Fuqing seemed rather embarrassed and ill at ease.
"Your mother..." Hu Xing pointed at her own head. "Is she all right?"
Ma Fuqing said, "Yes, yes. My mother just has a slightly peculiar temper."
Ever since seeing how devoted Ma Fuqing was to his mother, Hu Xing had begun to feel uncertain about the purpose of their visit.
She had originally expected to encounter an extremely cunning and vicious criminal, preferably one who attacked them outright, so that the grappling techniques and marksmanship she had practiced since childhood could finally be put to use. She didn't think Ma Fuqing was putting on an act for them. What reason would someone so devoted to his mother have to kill? Now she hoped Qingmu's judgment had been wrong and that the scumbag arrested by the Lu County criminal investigation squad was the murderer.
She signaled Qingmu to question him, but Qingmu said nothing and simply smoked. So angry was Hu Xing that she kicked him hard under the table.
Only then did Qingmu straighten up and say to Ma Fuqing, "Oh, you paid me, and I still haven't interpreted your dream."
Ma Fuqing hurriedly shook his head. "No need, no need. I'm fine now."
"Fine now?" Qingmu looked taken aback. "Then you want a refund?"
"No, no, that's not what I meant. No need to refund me."
"In that case, let's go." Qingmu stood up to leave.
Now Hu Xing was unhappy. What is this supposed to be? You were the one who wanted to come here, and all you came for was to interpret your client's dream! But there was nothing she could do. She could only glare at Qingmu and think, I'll deal with you when we get back!
But how would she deal with him when they got back? Thinking of Qingmu's impervious manner, sometimes dull-witted and sometimes shameless, Hu Xing suddenly felt dejected. She felt that getting involved with this strange fellow for no reason had truly been a mistake.
Ma Fuqing nodded with a laugh and was about to see them out when his mother's voice came from the dark passage behind the living room. "Fuqing, come here. Tell your friends not to leave yet." Her tone was as gentle as that of a mother coaxing the month-old baby in her arms.
Ma Fuqing answered, "Oh," smiled apologetically at Qingmu and Hu Xing, and went into the passage at the back.
Qingmu and Hu Xing looked at each other. The old woman's temper really did change quickly.
"She's even stranger than you," Hu Xing said, wrinkling her nose.
"What's strange about me?"
"Bell-bottoms, slippers, and a trench coat in this heat-isn't that strange enough?" Despite her words, Hu Xing felt not the slightest contempt. She would never forget Qingmu's incredible ability to send people into dreams. But how could someone so capable usually look so lazy and dim?
They chatted desultorily, but a long while passed without Ma Fuqing returning.
After eating two slices of watermelon, Hu Xing finally couldn't stand it any longer. "Let's go take a look."
Qingmu agreed. They crossed the living room and entered the passage inside.
The passage was short. The door at its far end was locked, and the stairs were beside it. A sturdy-looking security grille stood at the stairwell. The grille door leading to the basement was open, and faint voices drifted up from below.
"Mom, no. Mom, we can't do that sort of thing."
"Why can't we? I don't care. I just want a grandson, so the Ma family line can continue! If you were any use, I wouldn't need to do this."
"Mom..."
Hu Xing signaled Qingmu and crept down the stairs.
A small, dim lamp was lit in the basement.
Hu Xing poked her head out to look and saw Ma Fuqing kneeling on the floor with his head lowered. His mother stood in front of her, her back to the stairs.
She suddenly felt a sinister draft blow down from the stairs above, chilling her spine.
The stairs were pitch-black, so dark she couldn't see her hand in front of her face. She kept feeling that something behind them was watching them.
Hu Xing's heart pounded. She turned to look at Qingmu but could make out only a dark silhouette. Fortunately, the outline of his bird's-nest hair was quite distinctive. For an instant, she felt that a bird's-nest hairstyle wasn't so bad after all!
Just then, she caught a dark shadow flicker at the turn of the stairs above. When she looked more closely, it was gone.
Just as she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, she discovered that Qingmu had vanished from her side.