I pretended to recognize Lao Wu and said, “Oh, it’s Lao Wu! You came all this way to see me.” He was from Sichuan, where people liked wearing bamboo hats and rain capes. I had mentioned before that I wanted to go into business with him, but I didn’t expect him to take it seriously and actually come to invite me.
Mother said, “Don’t neglect him. He traveled thousands of miles to see you—don’t let him down.” I agreed. Seeing that Little Rascal and the kitten had finished eating, Mother went back to the kitchen to fetch the leftovers, muttering as she walked, “Who’d have thought someone’s surname could be ‘Bug’? That’s really rare.” Little Rascal licked the three grains of rice stuck to his chin, repeating the motion three times before swallowing them all. He greedily watched Mother’s retreating figure—after eating with me for a few days, he must have found her cooking delicious.
I took my things back to my room and put them away. My back still stung a little from Father’s beating—it had sounded loud, but it wasn’t that painful. After all, I was his son; how could he bear to hit me hard? I went to the kitchen to fill my stomach, eating while pondering how to deal with Bug Lao Wu. The thought made me nervous—was he really the bug master who had made Bai Xuan disappear without a trace? If so, how could I protect my parents? Lost in thought, I accidentally bit my tongue, the pain bringing tears to my eyes.
I decided to meet him. If there were issues, we could discuss them calmly. If things turned sour, at least I’d have tried diplomacy first. After eating, I returned to my room and slipped a plum-blossom screwdriver into my pocket. Looking at myself in the mirror, I quickly changed out of my robe into jeans and a leather jacket, grabbed a cap, and put on the sunglasses I’d bought from a street vendor.
By around ten, I was ready to leave. Little Rascal and the kitten were still adjusting to their new home. I said goodbye, telling them to listen to Mother.
Mother stood by the kitchen door and asked, “Are you bringing your friend back for lunch? Eating out in town can be expensive.” I replied, “If I’m coming back, I’ll call you. If I don’t call, it means I’m eating in town.” She acknowledged this and told me to be careful.
Most of the villagers were elderly, women, or children, and I barely knew any of them. Few greeted me as I walked. Some elders, spotting me from afar, quickly pulled their children inside. At the village exit, I waited a few minutes for a motorcycle taxi, but none came, so I decided to walk.
Fifteen minutes later, I reached town and checked a few inns. The main street wasn’t long—maybe half a mile—so I soon found Bug Lao Wu’s lodgings. As I arrived at the inn’s entrance, he was just coming downstairs. He wasn’t wearing his rain cape anymore, but he still had on a bamboo hat and black gloves, carrying a snakeskin bag. His eyes gleamed as he saw me approach.
I called out, “You’re Lao Wu?”
He nodded. “I am. It’s not convenient to talk here—let’s find a place.” That suited me fine, so I followed him back to his room. Wary of hidden weapons, I let him enter first. The moment the door opened, the scent of sandalwood wafted out. Bug Lao Wu removed his hat, revealing unnaturally pale skin—so white you could see the green veins beneath. His handsome face bore an aged weariness that didn’t match his years.
He got straight to the point: “I’m here to settle things peacefully. If my elder brother, Wang Han, came instead, you wouldn’t even have hair left on your corpse. Just return the bugs to us, and we’ll call it even.”
I thought to myself, *I already ate those bugs—how the hell am I supposed to return them?* Aloud, I asked, “What about you trying to kill me before? And Bai Xuan’s death—doesn’t that count as murder? This is a society ruled by law—don’t killers have to pay with their lives? Go ahead, call your idiot brother Wang Han. Let’s see who’s scared of whom.”
Bug Lao Wu looked at me, amused and slightly confused. He chuckled. “Rule of law? This is the age of money, Xiao Qi. Just because we didn’t kill you last time doesn’t mean we can’t. And if we can’t kill you, we can always kill someone else—someone who’ll make you suffer even more.”
I knew exactly who he meant—my parents. Seeing no room for negotiation, I stood up and glared. “If you lay a finger on my parents, don’t blame me for what happens next.” I gripped the screwdriver in my hand. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but those five bugs? I ate them. Fried them up like a dish and swallowed them whole. There’s no way I’m giving them back. I’ll pay you a few hundred as compensation, but if you dare threaten me, I’ll make sure everyone knows you use bugs to kill people.”
Bug Lao Wu trembled with rage, his pale skin flushing red. “Xiao Qi, you—you—you actually ate them?! Do you have any idea how valuable they were?! You could sell yourself a hundred times over and still not pay me back!”
His eyes burned with murderous intent. I tightened my grip on the screwdriver, ready to strike if he moved. After my fight with the Huang family, I’d grown bolder. I sneered, “Get out. I’ll pretend Bai Xuan’s death never happened. But if I call the police, do you really think you can escape? I don’t know the full story between you bug masters and my grandfather—who’s right or wrong. If my grandfather was at fault, I’ll take responsibility. But killing to cover your tracks? That’s something I’ll never accept.”
Bug Lao Wu’s fists cracked like snapping beans, his teeth grinding audibly. Worried he might summon bugs, I raised the screwdriver—not sharp, but enough to stab into his thigh if needed. Just then, a voice called from outside: “Director Wu! What brings you here…?”
Hearing this, Bug Lao Wu spat out a final threat: “Xiao Qi, don’t push your luck. I have a hundred ways to deal with you—”
*Huh, that sounds familiar. Pretty sure I’ve said that before.*
Before he could finish, he rolled across the bed, tucked his hat under his arm, and darted to the window. He flung it open and jumped out. I rushed to the window just as a green snake shot toward me. I dodged, grabbed it mid-air, and shook it violently to dislocate its bones, rendering it harmless before tossing it toward the door.
Coincidentally, the door burst open as Wu Zhen stormed in with his men. The snake landed right on his face. He yelped, recoiling as the snake writhed before dropping to the floor, immobilized.
I leaned out the window and saw Bug Lao Wu already on the road, leaping onto a passing truck that sped off down the highway. Wu Zhen, now free of the snake, joined me at the window and cursed, “Damn it, he got away!” Then he turned to me. “Xiao Qi, what are you doing here?”
That was my question for *him*. “He’s connected to Bai Xuan’s death. He asked me to come. How did *you* end up here?”
Wu Zhen wiped his face with a tissue—the snake had left an itchy sensation. “Bai Xuan left a letter at home saying a man in a bamboo hat paid him 100,000 yuan. If he died, it was that man’s doing.”
I was about to say the money was probably for killing me and retrieving the bugs when I noticed Wu Zhen’s face turning blue and swelling like a watermelon. Hesitantly, I asked, “Director Wu, did you switch careers to selling watermelons?”
He laughed. “Xiao Qi, you’re hilarious. Why would I sell watermelons? I’m a cop! Later, help me describe Bug Lao Wu’s appearance so we can issue a warrant.” I said, “Director Wu, maybe you should look in a mirror first. And tell your men not to touch anything in the room—I’ll handle the snake.”
Wu Zhen chuckled twice before stopping abruptly. His “watermelon” kept growing, his neck now tinged blue. Staring at his reflection, he muttered, “Huh? Who put a watermelon in front of my face?” Realizing it *was* his face, he dropped to his knees. “Master Xiao, you have to save me!”
I helped him up. “Put a bag over your head first—you’ll scare the kids. Then I’ll figure something out.”
Wu Zhen found a black trash bag, cut holes for his eyes, nose, and mouth, and ordered his men to guard the room. I bagged the disabled snake and led Wu Zhen out. The innkeeper, seeing the masked figure, recognized Wu Zhen’s build and joked, “Director Wu, are you arresting yourself like in the movies?”
The innkeeper, Leng Quanlong, was an out-of-towner who’d married a local woman. They’d met working in Dongguan, saved up, and returned to open a small inn with a banquet hall on the first floor.
Wu Zhen, now a walking watermelon, replied pompously, “Brother Leng, I don’t take so much as a needle from the people. How could I let you treat me to a meal? That would disgrace me!”
Leng Quanlong laughed. “Director Wu, your integrity is an example to us all. I must learn from you to better myself.”
Wu Zhen nodded approvingly and left with me. Outside, Leng’s five-year-old daughter tugged at his sleeve, frowning. He patted her head. “What’s wrong, princess? No school today—why the long face?”
She blinked rapidly. “Daddy, I saw a man with a watermelon for a head. How can someone’s head be a watermelon?”
Leng chuckled. “Next time you see the watermelon man, ask him yourself. Daddy doesn’t know.”
We got into the police car—me driving, Wu Zhen in the passenger seat. He told me not to go to the station but to his home instead. *Typical—so concerned with face.* Following his directions, we arrived at his house. Two fierce wolfdogs chained at the gate barked at me. The courtyard was paved with marble, two potted cycads flanking a three-story villa—clearly no small expense.
Wu Zhen, seeing my hesitation, kicked the dogs. “Behave!” His wife, Miao Qinghua, rushed out. “I thought you were on a case. Why are you wearing a sack?”
Wu Zhen snapped, “None of your business! Make tea for the master—top-grade Pu’er.” I cut in, “Tea can wait.” I asked his wife for a jar and a bottle of aged vinegar, which she provided without question.
I smiled. “Director Wu, you’re home now—no need to hide.” I had him remove the bag and wash his face with cold water. Reluctantly, he did. His wife gasped. “Were you arresting a watermelon seller? It’s not even watermelon season!”
Wu Zhen slapped her. “Shut up and get the water!” I poured the snake into the jar, added vinegar, and watched it die. The vinegar’s acidity neutralized, turning green. Wu Zhen stared at the murky water, grumbling internally about how it looked like he’d donned a green hat and scarf. After a moment, he washed his face and neck clean.
The towel and water turned green.
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