Chapter 47: The Passing of the Deaf Elder, Yi Zhonghai Secretly Digs Up the Tree

The door to the Security Section’s interrogation room was closed, and from inside came the faint, tearful voice of Qin Nairu: “…I didn’t do it! It was Deputy Director Li who told me! He said if I tore those pages, he’d give me thirty yuan! He even said he could get Bang Geng out of the juvenile detention center sooner… I was confused! He Yuzhu! Yuzhu, please save me…”

He Yuzhu stood outside in the cold corridor, expressionless as he listened.

“Yuzhu.” Director Yang approached, his face equally grim. “Qin Nairu is firmly blaming Li Huaide for ordering her, but without evidence, this is… difficult to handle.”

“Li Huaide won’t get away, but I have to return to the Siheyuan,” He Yuzhu said urgently. “I just got word from the neighbors there—the old lady… she’s not going to make it.”

Director Yang immediately understood, patting him hard on the shoulder. “Go quickly! I’ve got things covered here. Xiao Wang!” He called toward the end of the corridor. “Drive! Take Team Leader He back to the Siheyuan! Hurry!”

Inside the jeep, driver Xiao Wang sped smoothly through the silent night, the sound of the tires rolling over the empty streets strikingly clear.

As soon as the vehicle stopped at the Siheyuan gate, He Yuzhu pushed open the door and jumped out.

The courtyard was plunged in darkness and silence, save for a faint yellow glow of an oil lamp leaking from the window of the old deaf woman’s room at the center.

He Yuzhu’s footsteps were heavy as he pushed open the slightly ajar door.

A strong scent of traditional medicine filled the air. Beneath the dim oil lamp, the old lady was curled up on the kang bed, covered by a thin quilt patched many times.

Director Wang from the neighborhood committee and a female staffer with glasses stood solemnly by the bed. An older woman was gently wiping the old lady’s mouth with a damp towel.

Hearing the door, the old lady strained to open her cloudy eyes. Seeing He Yuzhu, she let out a faint breath: “Yuzhu… Yuzhu… you’re… here…”

“Old lady, I’m here,” He Yuzhu hurried to the bedside, crouching down to hold her icy hand.

Her hand trembled violently. The other hand fumbled beneath the quilt for a long moment before shakily producing a small piece of thick oiled paper, which she pressed into He Yuzhu’s hand.

“For… you…” she gasped, voice faltering. “…under the locust tree… your father’s… your father’s things… look… look carefully…”

Her eyes fixed on He Yuzhu with all the remaining strength she had. “Beware… the First Uncle… he’s… not a good man… back then… he… he…”

Before she could finish, a rattling sound came from her throat. Her eyes suddenly bulged, her body convulsed violently, then slackened completely, silent forever.

“Old lady!” the older woman cried out, her voice breaking.

Director Wang immediately checked the old lady’s carotid pulse. After a few seconds, he shook his head heavily. “She’s gone.”

A stifled sob echoed through the room. Director Wang and the staffer’s eyes reddened.

He Yuzhu clenched the oiled paper tightly, gazing at the serene yet reluctant expression on the old lady’s face. His throat felt as if a stone were lodged in it.

He slowly stood and bowed deeply to the old lady’s body.

“Did the old lady leave something with you, Yuzhu?” the older woman wiped her tears and looked at the paper in He Yuzhu’s hand.

He Yuzhu said nothing. He moved closer to the oil lamp and carefully unfolded the thick paper.

The paper bore several crooked lines drawn in fine charcoal pencil—roughly the floor plan of the Siheyuan.

In the back corner of the yard, a tree was marked, next to it scrawled the character for “locust.”

But the crucial part—the exact location and depth beneath the locust tree—was damaged by insects or water stains, leaving an irregular hole and blurred ink edges.

“How… how are we supposed to dig this up?” the older woman peered closely, bewildered. “It just shows a tree, but there are several locust trees in the backyard!”

Director Wang frowned. “The old lady left suddenly, didn’t finish her words. This map… the key spot is ruined.”

He Yuzhu ignored them and held the paper up to the dim oil lamp, shifting it at different angles to examine it carefully.

The ink residue around the hole’s edge wasn’t straight but exhibited subtle, winding lines resembling the texture of tree bark.

He Yuzhu suddenly recalled the old lady’s dying words about the “locust” and her unwavering gaze.

“Texture…” He Yuzhu whispered to himself.

Clutching the oiled paper, he turned and headed out of the room toward the backyard.

Director Wang and the female staffer exchanged glances and hurried to follow. The older woman hesitated but then followed as well.

The backyard was small, with three locust trees.

One stood in the northwest corner, thick and sturdy; one in the southeast, slender; and another clung to the rear wall, its bark mottled and worn.

He Yuzhu held the paper and, by the moonlight, approached the aged locust tree by the wall.

Placing his palm on its rough, deeply furrowed bark, he felt its weathered, twisted texture—the unique ridges closely matching the ink lines left on the oiled paper.

“This is the one!” He Yuzhu’s eyes hardened as he pointed to the old locust tree by the wall.

Director Wang and the staffer leaned in to study the map and then the tree bark, faces uncertain.

The older woman’s eyes flickered nervously as she quietly retreated toward the central courtyard.

“Yuzhu! Are you sure… it’s this tree?” Director Wang asked.

He Yuzhu didn’t answer but gazed past the locust’s dense branches at the tightly closed window of the Yi Zhonghai household in the central courtyard.

Behind the window, a shadow suddenly withdrew as He Yuzhu indicated the tree by the wall.

A cold smile curled at the corner of He Yuzhu’s mouth. He deliberately raised his voice to Director Wang.

“Director Wang, please bear witness with this comrade here.”

“The old lady’s final words said the things are buried beneath this locust tree. It’s too late now. At dawn, I’ll ask the neighborhood committee to send people to dig together.”

“Good! Absolutely necessary!” Director Wang nodded immediately.

He Yuzhu glanced once more at the Yi Zhonghai household window, then turned to Director Wang.

“Tonight, we’ll need the neighborhood committee to have someone keep vigil in the old lady’s room. Her passing was sudden; some arrangements need to be made.”

“No problem! Xiao Liu,” Director Wang said to the female staffer, “please arrange personnel and bring tools in the morning. I’ll stay at the Siheyuan tonight.”

With plans settled, He Yuzhu didn’t linger. After parting from Director Wang, he headed back to the rolling mill—there was still much waiting for him.

Deep into the silent night, the entire Siheyuan lay asleep, save for the faint light from the old deaf woman’s room where the vigil was kept.

A furtive figure slipped out of the central courtyard.

Yi Zhonghai carried a short-handled iron shovel, tiptoeing toward the backyard.

He didn’t head for the locust tree by the wall but went straight to the large elm tree in the center of the yard, farthest from the old lady’s room.

“Hmph! Little bastard! Playing tricks on me? Director Wang as witness? Dig at dawn? Dream on!” Yi Zhonghai ground his teeth in anger. “There are only three locust trees in the backyard! The one in the northwest corner is the biggest and most obvious! You deliberately pointed to the small one by the wall to fool people?”

“The real thing must be under the biggest elm in the center! The old lady loved sitting there to cool off back then!”

Convinced that He Yuzhu was using a diversion, Yi Zhonghai panted heavily, swung the shovel, and began digging furiously into the soft earth by the elm’s roots.

In the still night, the harsh scrape of the shovel was piercing.

“Who’s there?! Who’s in the yard?!” Suddenly, lights flared on in the second uncle’s house at the front. Liu Haizhong’s warning shout exploded.

“Thief! There’s a thief in the backyard!” followed by the sharp scream of the second aunt.

Immediately, several neighboring houses lit up, shadows flitting about.

Footsteps, shouts, door openings—all in chaos. Flashlights swept wildly across the backyard.

Yi Zhonghai was terrified, frozen in place. He was too late to run. Several piercing beams of flashlight converged on him and the shallow pit he’d just dug beside the elm.

“Yi Zhonghai?!” Liu Haizhong burst out, holding a rolling pin, stunned. “Why are you digging by the elm in the middle of the night?!”

Yi Zhonghai stood rooted, still clutching the shovel, his face pale and flushed under the flashlight beams.