The Cousin Arrives (Part One)

“Those who have finished, lie flat on your backs, open your legs to a comfortable width, adjust your breathing—we are entering the relaxation phase.”

He Lingyu had barely lain down on her yoga mat for ten seconds before she sat up again. Without bothering to gather her things, she grabbed her still-vibrating phone and hurried into the restroom.

On the other end of the call, Spinach’s voice came through: “Lingling, where’s Shuimei? Her phone’s off—her cousin is here.”

Spinach spoke quickly and hung up just as hastily. Before He Lingyu could ask anything else, the call was already disconnected.

He Lingyu frowned and walked out of the restroom, heading back toward the classroom.

This was a small town. He Lingyu worked as an assistant at a mountain inn about fifty miles away. Shuimei was the owner and hostess of the inn.

A month earlier, Shuimei had come to town to buy supplies. She saw that the yoga studio was offering a discount—a yearly membership that usually cost four thousand was now only two thousand three hundred and ninety-nine. In a moment of impulsivity, Shuimei bought a card not only for herself but for He Lingyu as well. However, the cost of He Lingyu’s card would be deducted from her wages.

It turned out that impulse purchases do lead to regret. The yoga class was only an hour each time, but the round-trip from the inn to town by car was over a hundred miles. Most of the time was wasted on the road, not to mention the cost of gas, which easily outweighed the discount.

So, after her impulsive decision, Shuimei resolved that they would only attend two classes per week. Today was the second class of the week; after this, they wouldn’t return to town until the following Monday.

The yoga instructor had a remarkable name: Shi Yini. She lived up to it—graceful figure, delicate features, nearly forty but still as beautiful as a picturesque landscape.

He Lingyu was about to return to the classroom to roll up her yoga mat when a woman’s scream pierced the air.

“Ah—!”

He Lingyu froze. The sound came from the yoga studio. Students were rushing out in a panic, nearly knocking her over. That was when she saw Shuimei.

“Shuimei!” He Lingyu called.

Shuimei saw her too and rushed over, clutching He Lingyu’s wrist. Their class was small—only six students today. Shuimei was still in shock. “There’s a dead body! Someone’s dead!”

The town had a police station, and the officers arrived quickly after the alarm was raised.

The victim was one of the students. At the time, except for He Lingyu, who had stepped out to take a call, the rest were all lying on their mats with eyes closed, resting.

The instructor, Shi Yini, was, as usual, sitting cross-legged in meditation.

One of the students, Liu Qian, had something to attend to that afternoon. As soon as He Lingyu left, she sat up to roll her mat, glancing sideways by chance. She saw the student lying to her left convulse twice, then go still.

Liu Qian was a nurse at the local hospital. Instinctively, she reached out to feel for a heartbeat. The chest was still warm, but there was no pulse.

Only then did she notice the expression on the deceased’s face: wide open eyes, mouth agape—a mask of terror.

The scream had come from Liu Qian. The others saw the face and bolted for the door. Liu Qian followed. The last to leave was the instructor, Shi Yini.

The victim’s identity was quickly established. Her name was Wu Ying, manager of the Baofu Gold Shop, twenty-eight, a local who had worked at Baofu since graduating high school.

There was only one gold shop in town—Baofu. Thus, He Lingyu and Shuimei soon learned another detail about Wu Ying.

The owner of Baofu Gold Shop was Zhang Baofu, also a local. Besides the shop in town, he had one in each of two neighboring counties.

Wu Ying was Zhang Baofu’s mistress, and quite openly so.

Her status as mistress had been accepted by Zhang Baofu’s family.

He Lingyu and Shuimei were stunned. “Doesn’t his wife care?” they both asked.

The other students chimed in, “Of course she does, but there’s nothing she can do. She just has to accept it.”

One said, “I remember, about five years ago, Chen Guifang went to the shop and started beating Wu Ying. Guess what happened? Chen Guifang’s mother and sister-in-law came and saved Wu Ying, then scolded Chen Guifang. Within days, Wu Ying became manager and moved into Xu Chengyuan.”

Chen Guifang was Zhang Baofu’s wife and the shop’s proprietress.

“Zhang Baofu’s home is in Xu Chengyuan—a detached villa. Wu Ying lives there too,” another student added.

He Lingyu asked curiously, “How do you all know where she lives?”

“How could we not? There’s nothing the townsfolk don’t know. You two don’t live in town, so you wouldn’t know,” someone replied.

He Lingyu and Shuimei exchanged glances, feeling as if a thousand alpacas had just paraded over their heads.

The town’s police station had neither a medical examiner nor facilities for storing bodies. After a preliminary investigation, the body was transported to the funeral home, and the station contacted the county public security bureau, who would send a forensic doctor to determine the cause of death.

He Lingyu, Shuimei, and the others at the scene were brought to the police station.

Aside from the deceased Wu Ying, the remaining five students and instructor Shi Yini were all witnesses. Whether they would become suspects depended on the forensic results.

The walk from the yoga studio to the police station took only ten minutes. Liu Qian was taken in for questioning first; the others waited outside.

He Lingyu, out of habit, took out her phone and remembered Spinach’s earlier call.

Spinach’s real name was Cai Xiaobo, and like He Lingyu, she worked as an assistant at Shuimei’s inn.

“Shuimei, Spinach couldn’t reach you, so she called me. Your cousin is here—she’s at the inn now.”

Shuimei patted her forehead. “I turned off my phone during class and forgot to turn it back on.”

When she powered it up, a flood of missed calls and messages awaited her—all from Spinach.

Shuimei called the inn’s front desk. Spinach answered, and after a brief conversation, Shuimei looked puzzledly at He Lingyu.

He Lingyu tilted her head and met Shuimei’s gaze. “Where is she? She said she went up the mountain for a walk? Where’s her luggage? Did anyone come with her?”

A moment later, Shuimei hung up. She wanted to say something to He Lingyu, but, glancing at the others nearby, she pressed her lips together and swallowed her words.

By the time they left the police station, it was already nine at night. Along with Shuimei and He Lingyu, the five were told not to leave town and to keep their phones on. Instructor Shi Yini, however, was asked to stay behind for further questioning.

It was too dangerous to drive mountain roads so late, so Shuimei and He Lingyu decided to spend the night in town and return to the inn the next morning.

When word spread that they needed a place to stay, a student named Zhou Xiaojun enthusiastically recommended her family’s guesthouse, just nearby. The guesthouse was on the third floor; Zhou Xiaojun’s family lived on the second, and the first floor was their supermarket.

Zhou Xiaojun was a chatty local girl. Her father had once traded in jade but was swindled by a partner, grew disheartened, and returned to the small town, opening a supermarket and guesthouse instead.

As it happened, when Zhou’s father was in the jade business, he did business with Baofu Gold Shop. Though he’d changed trades, he and Zhang Baofu exchanged greetings during festivals.

Zhou Xiaojun had long known about Zhang Baofu and Wu Ying. It was no secret in town. But Zhou shared another detail.

Though Wu Ying had managed to move into the Zhang family’s home, Chen Guifang refused to live with them. Five years ago, after being beaten by her own mother and sister-in-law, Chen Guifang left for the provincial capital to start her own business. She turned a blind eye to Zhang Baofu and Wu Ying’s affairs. Since she hadn’t divorced him, Wu Ying remained only the mistress.

The Zhou family guesthouse was charmingly decorated. He Lingyu went downstairs to the supermarket for instant noodles and snacks, cooked two bowls of noodles, and brought them to the lounge. She was about to call Shuimei to eat when she noticed Shuimei looked worried.

“What’s wrong?” He Lingyu remembered the call at the police station.

“Lingling, I have three cousins. My eldest went abroad twenty years ago, and we rarely keep in touch. My second cousin is a photographer, always traveling. She came here for a shoot last year and stayed at the inn for a few days. So, when I heard my cousin was here, I thought it was her.”

She sighed, and He Lingyu quickly asked, “But it wasn’t?”

Shuimei shook her head. “When I called the inn today, Spinach said my cousin went up the mountain. And she said my cousin called herself Shi Jing.”

He Lingyu was puzzled. “You don’t have a cousin named Shi Jing?”

“I do. As I said, I have three cousins. Aside from the first two, the third passed away five years ago. Her name was Shi Jing—my aunt’s daughter, twelve years older than me, born in the same zodiac year. When I called the inn again, Spinach said my cousin had called earlier too, saying she’d met a friend and wouldn’t return that night. Spinach gave me the number from caller ID. I called, but the phone was off. Lingling, what do you think is going on? Could this Shi Jing be an imposter?”

Indeed—a person dead for five years suddenly appearing at a remote inn. If not an imposter, then it was something far more uncanny.