Luo Ming did not move.
The room was small enough that the stranger's voice seemed to fill it without effort.
"You shouldn't have sent the warning."
Luo Ming's fingers tightened around the black document case.
"I didn't."
The stranger stepped closer.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't care what you believe."
For the first time, there was something almost sharp in Luo Ming's voice.
He had spent seventeen years learning how to disappear.
He had changed his name twice, moved between three cities, stopped speaking to nearly everyone who had known him before the fire, and learned not to ask questions when people paid him to keep quiet.
But fear had never been the thing that kept him alive.
Knowing when someone else was afraid had.
And the person standing in front of him was afraid.
Very afraid.
Luo Ming looked at the man's hands.
No weapon.
No gloves.
A silver clasp at the collar.
His eyes narrowed.
"You're late," Luo Ming said.
The stranger paused.
"For what?"
"For the part where you tell me who sent you."
No answer.
Luo Ming smiled faintly.
"So you don't know either."
The stranger's expression hardened.
"Give me the case."
"No."
"You don't understand what you're holding."
"I understand perfectly."
Luo Ming pulled the document case closer to his chest.
"This is the reason people have been looking for me for seventeen years."
Outside, a boat horn sounded on the river.
The stranger glanced toward the window.
That small movement told Luo Ming enough.
He had expected someone to come.
He had not expected them to come this soon.
Luo Ming turned toward the back door.
The stranger moved first.
Luo Ming shoved the wooden table between them.
The chair overturned.
By the time the stranger reached the other side, Luo Ming had already slipped through the narrow doorway.
"Stop!"
Luo Ming ran.
His knees hurt now. They had hurt for years.
But fear made old bodies remember young habits.
He reached the alley behind the house and disappeared into the darkness.
The stranger followed.
By the time he reached the riverbank, Luo Ming was gone.
Only a small piece of paper remained on the ground.
The stranger picked it up.
There were three words written across it.
Ask Zhang Guoren.
The next morning, Yulan woke before the shop opened.
He lay still for several seconds, staring at the ceiling.
Something felt wrong.
He couldn't explain why.
Maybe it was the note.
Maybe it was the photograph.
Maybe it was the fact that every answer they had found seemed to lead to another locked door.
He finally got out of bed.
Downstairs, his father was already preparing the dough.
"You're early."
Yulan rolled up his sleeves.
"Couldn't sleep."
Guoren glanced at him.
"You've been saying that a lot lately."
"Have I?"
"Yes."
Yulan began kneading the dough.
His father watched him for a moment before returning to his work.
Neither said anything else.
The shop slowly filled with the familiar sounds of morning.
Boiling water.
Chopping vegetables.
Bowls being stacked.
The front door opening.
For a while, everything felt ordinary.
Then Chen Hao walked in.
He looked exhausted.
His hair was still wet, and his shirt was buttoned incorrectly.
Guoren stared at him.
"You're wearing your shirt backwards."
Chen Hao looked down.
He sighed.
"It's been a difficult morning."
Yulan laughed despite himself.
"What happened?"
"I woke up late."
"That doesn't explain the shirt."
"I was in a hurry."
"You didn't notice?"
"I noticed something felt wrong."
Guoren shook his head.
"Sit down before you hurt yourself."
Chen Hao dropped onto a stool.
"I'll have eight dumplings."
"Six."
"Eight."
"Six."
"Seven."
Guoren pointed toward the kitchen.
"Help yourself."
Chen Hao immediately became quiet.
Yulan grinned.
"You're unusually obedient today."
Chen Hao looked at him.
"I have information."
That wiped the smile from Yulan's face.
"What kind?"
Chen Hao leaned forward.
"About Warehouse Nine."
Yulan stopped kneading.
"What about it?"
Chen Hao lowered his voice.
"One of the old guards disappeared last night."
"Disappeared?"
"Didn't come home. Didn't show up for work either."
"Who?"
Chen Hao hesitated.
"His name is Fang De."
Guoren's hands stopped moving.
Only for a second.
But Yulan noticed.
"You know him?"
Guoren looked toward the front window.
"I knew his brother."
Chen Hao exchanged a glance with Yulan.
"Did his brother work at the docks?"
"Yes."
"Warehouse Nine?"
Guoren didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Yulan wiped his hands.
"Dad."
Guoren continued working.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Ask me questions you already know I don't want to answer."
Yulan's voice softened.
"Someone disappeared."
"I heard you."
"And you're telling me not to care?"
Guoren finally looked at him.
"No."
His expression had changed.
"I'm telling you to be careful about what caring costs."
The shop door opened.
A customer stepped inside.
Guoren immediately turned toward them.
"Morning. Sit anywhere."
The conversation ended.
But Yulan couldn't stop thinking about the way his father's hands had frozen.
Li Wei received the news before breakfast.
Lin Meiyu placed the note beside his tea.
"Fang De."
Li Wei read the name.
"Who gave this to you?"
"One of my father's clerks."
"Why?"
"He said Fang De had been asking questions about Warehouse Nine."
Li Wei looked up.
"What kind of questions?"
"About the old compensation records."
His expression changed.
"Then he wasn't just a guard."
Meiyu nodded.
"He may have known about the private ledger."
Li Wei folded the note.
"Anything else?"
Meiyu hesitated.
"Your uncle was seen near the western district yesterday."
Li Wei looked at her.
"Why didn't you tell me that first?"
"Because there's something more important."
She placed another piece of paper on the table.
Three words.
Ask Zhang Guoren.
Li Wei stared at them.
"Where did this come from?"
"It was found near Riverside House."
His fingers tightened around the paper.
"Luo Ming?"
"We don't know."
Li Wei stood.
"Get the carriage ready."
Meiyu nodded.
Then she stopped.
"Master."
Li Wei turned.
"You should not go there alone."
"I won't."
"You're taking Mr. Zhang?"
Li Wei paused.
A small smile appeared.
"I'm going to try."
Yulan found him waiting across the street from the shop.
He didn't need to ask why Li Wei was there.
He simply took off his apron.
"Give me five minutes."
Li Wei nodded.
Chen Hao watched from inside the shop.
His eyes moved between them.
Then he slowly smiled.
"Oh."
Guoren looked at him.
"Oh what?"
"Nothing."
Chen Hao picked up another dumpling.
"Absolutely nothing."
They walked along the river together.
Neither spoke at first.
The morning was cool, and the streets were beginning to fill.
Finally, Yulan said, "You could have sent someone."
"I could have."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
Li Wei glanced at him.
"Because I wanted to tell you myself."
Yulan looked ahead.
"About Fang De?"
"About everything."
They stopped beside the stone railing.
Li Wei lowered his voice.
"Someone found Luo Ming."
Yulan's expression changed.
"Found him?"
"He's alive."
"I know."
Li Wei stared at him.
"You know?"
Yulan nodded.
"The warning."
"The warning wasn't from him."
"How do you know?"
"I don't."
Li Wei took the note from his pocket.
Yulan read it.
His face slowly became serious.
"Ask my father."
"Yes."
They stood quietly for a moment.
Then Yulan said, "He's going to hate this."
"He already hates it."
"That doesn't mean we should stop."
"I know."
Yulan looked at him.
"You're going to Shanghai soon."
Li Wei's expression tightened.
"Not yet."
"Your family still wants you there."
"Yes."
"And you're still going?"
"I don't know."
That answer surprised Yulan.
Li Wei looked toward the river.
"For the first time, I'm not sure I want to do what they're asking."
Yulan studied him.
"Don't make that decision because of me."
"I won't."
"Good."
Li Wei looked at him.
"But I may make it because of myself."
Before Yulan could respond, a boat horn sounded from farther down the river.
Both men turned.
A small cargo boat was moving slowly beneath the bridge.
For a brief second, Yulan saw someone standing near the rear.
An old man.
Gray hair.
Dark coat.
Holding something black against his side.
Yulan's breath caught.
"Li Wei."
Li Wei followed his gaze.
The boat passed beneath the bridge.
The man turned his head.
Their eyes met.
Only for a moment.
But it was enough.
Luo Ming lifted one hand.
Not waving.
Pointing.
Toward the western district.
Then he disappeared behind the boat's canvas covering.
Li Wei immediately started down the steps.
Yulan followed.
"Wait!"
They reached the riverbank, but the boat was already moving away.
No chance of catching it.
Li Wei stood watching it disappear.
Yulan looked at him.
"He wanted us to see him."
Li Wei nodded.
"And he wanted us to go somewhere."
"The western district."
"Yes."
Yulan looked toward the old warehouses.
"Then that's where we're going."
Neither of them noticed the man standing on the opposite side of the street.
He had been watching them the entire time.
He lowered his hand from his collar.
The silver clasp caught the morning light.
Then he turned and walked away.