Chapter 110: The Fool and the Madman

Nothing in this world remains constant. Seas dry up, rocks crumble, lovers part, and families are torn asunder. Much like a rolling ball, everything must eventually come to a stop.

Zhang Xiaoman lowered his head to glance at the two balls—one large, one small—that had rolled to his feet, then looked at the pair of children, one big and one small, rushing toward him, breathless. As he leaned down to retrieve the balls, he caught a glimpse of a figure slipping into the shadows of an adjacent alley just behind him. A cold sneer touched his lips. He paused for a moment, then straightened up slowly, feigning ignorance of anything unusual.

The two children, panting heavily, came to a halt before him. The older one pulled the younger behind him, staring at Zhang Xiaoman with wary eyes. Frowning and pouting, the older child said, "Those are ours..."

"I know, I know..." Zhang Xiaoman forced a gentle smile and held out the balls. He started to hand them over, then hesitated and withdrew his hand slightly, his tone earnest. "Children, I can give these back to you, but let me offer a word of caution: don't kick balls along the curb anymore. It’s very dangerous. A long time ago, a friend of mine saw a child kicking a ball by the roadside; it rolled under the tire of a truck, causing the driver to lose control and hit him. He ended up a vegetative patient in a hospital bed for many years."

The younger child poked his head out from behind the older one and asked naively, "Grandpa, what’s a 'vegetative patient'?"

The older child glared at the little one and spoke with feigned maturity. "Dummy, it’s just like those trees by the road—can't eat, can't drink, and definitely can't play ball."

The younger child covered his mouth. "That sounds terrible. Did your friend ever get better?"

"He did, he did..." Zhang Xiaoman smiled, finally handing the balls back. "But if you keep playing on the curb, you might end up that way yourselves. Some people recover, and some never do. In fact, there is someone following me right now who will never be better..."

The older child took the balls and looked around. "Where?"

"You can't see him right now," Zhang Xiaoman chuckled. "Have you ever played Red Light, Green Light?"

Both children nodded vigorously, answering in unison, "Yes!"

"The one following me is the 'statue'," Zhang Xiaoman said with a light cough. "Whenever I look back, he has to freeze and hide, so you can't see him." He pointed to the balls in their hands, his eyes twinkling with a devious smile. "I helped you get your balls back; how about you help this old man with a favor?"

The two children exchanged a serious look. "We can help you... but we’re good kids, we don't do bad things."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't ask you to do anything bad. I just need you to help me trap that 'statue' so he can't hurt anyone else." Zhang Xiaoman beckoned them closer, whispering mysteriously, "Lean in..."

After listening to Zhang Xiaoman’s hushed instructions, the children clapped their hands, beaming with excitement. "Fun! That sounds like so much fun!"

Zhang Xiaoman waved a hand. "Go on, prepare yourselves. The statue and I will be there in a moment."

The children nodded, clutched their balls, and scampered off toward a nearby alley. Zhang Xiaoman watched them go, shaking his head with a faint smile. He was suddenly reminded of two children—one big, one small—who had run away from him with their balls over a decade ago. The only difference was that back then, the older one had been younger, and the younger one had been older.

It was a period of nameless, faceless years. Zhang Xiaoman had given those two children balls and told them to go hide, promising he would come find them. But in the end, he never did. He had only waved at their departing backs and whispered a soft "Goodbye."

"Goodbye"—the two most painful words in life. Whether spoken with sincerity or pretense, they almost always mean "never see you again." When children play hide-and-seek, everyone eventually gets found. When adults play, some are lost forever.

After those two children had hidden, Zhang Xiaoman hadn't gone looking for them because he was busy playing a different game of hide-and-seek with another adult—a man of unmitigated cruelty.

Remote mountain villages are always home to remote, twisted stories. A man had kidnapped a group of women and stashed them in the isolated Yuliu Village. Where there is a market, there is a sale, and where there is a sale, there is suffering. The man kidnapped them to sell—to mountain dwellers wanting eight sons, or to villagers who sought to replace a deceased son with a rooster in a wedding ceremony.

Zhang Xiaoman had been investigating a madwoman named Li Hongxia, who was trafficking women for surrogacy, and followed the trail to this man. He had arrived alone in the fog-drenched Yuliu Village.

Everyone holds different beliefs. Zhang Xiaoman believed in justice and righteousness; the man believed in money and fame; the villagers believed in the superstitions of demons and spirits. Thus, Zhang Xiaoman found himself hitting walls at every turn, unable to gain any ground.

Fortunately, a group of children who had been out gathering bird eggs pointed the way. The mountains were vast, but in the eyes of those children, they were small enough to navigate.

Because one of the boys, Wang Mazi, had suffered an injury while gathering eggs, the village elders declared that the Mountain God was angry and forbade the children from wandering the hills. Only two orphans, who had no one else to rely on, were willing to accompany Zhang Xiaoman.

One was thin and small; the other was tall and large. The thin one had grand ambitions; the big one had simple wishes. Zhang Xiaoman promised that if they led him to the hideout, he would give each of them the balls they had long coveted.

After traveling through mountains and rivers, the children finally led him to the shack hidden in a ravine. The big child, simple-minded and naive, foolishly dashed ahead of Zhang Xiaoman and the smaller boy, burst into the shack, smiled at the man and the women huddled on the floor like quails, and pointed at the man’s nose. "Found you!"

The smaller child, realizing the mistake, panicked, grabbed the big one, and ran for their lives. Zhang Xiaoman’s heart skipped a beat; he bolted after them, and the three of them didn't stop to catch their breath until they reached the woods at the edge of the village.

Glancing at the rustling forest behind them, Zhang Xiaoman took the two balls from his pack and patted the children's heads. "We won that round of hide-and-seek and eliminated that guy. These balls are your reward. Now, it’s time for the three of us to decide the winner. You hide, I’ll seek. You’d better hide well—if I find you, I’m taking the balls back."

The big boy patted his chest, confidently promising he wouldn't be found. The smaller one looked thoughtfully toward the woods behind Zhang Xiaoman and asked in a voice barely louder than a mosquito's for Zhang Xiaoman to be sure to find them.

Zhang Xiaoman laughed heartily, announced the start of the game, counted to three, waved goodbye as they ran off, and turned back into the forest.

Before long, the strange women disappeared from Yuliu Village, and the villagers stopped worshipping the demons and spirits that supposedly granted them wives. The small mountain village returned to its centuries-old tranquility. Only, there would always be a simple-minded, hulking young man sitting at the village entrance, cupping his face, staring at the deep sea of trees, and asking the smaller boy beside him over and over, "Why hasn't he come to find us yet?"

"Maybe he hasn't counted to one hundred yet!"

The smaller boy blinked, peeked around the corner of the alley, and saw Zhang Xiaoman arriving as promised. He turned to the older boy, whispering in surprise, "Brother, he's here!"

As people age, they become prone to nostalgia. Zhang Xiaoman, leading the "statue" behind him on a circuitous route, lost himself in memories of the past. It wasn't until he saw the smaller boy’s head that he snapped back to reality. He winked at the two children, walked over, took off one of his shoes, placed it on the ground, and hid in a nearby trash bin.

Ten seconds later, Wang Chao, led by the nose like a statue, appeared at the alley entrance. He scanned the empty space, then spotted the two children crouching at the end of the alley by a manhole cover. He walked over and realized these were the same two kids who had been playing with the balls earlier.

The children were huddled around the open manhole, clapping their hands and counting, "Eleven, twelve..."

Wang Chao frowned and asked softly, "Kids, what are you doing?"

The older child spoke first. "A madman and a fool are playing hide-and-seek. The fool hides, the madman chases. Finally, the fool came to this manhole, clapped his hands, and counted: eleven, twelve, thirteen..."

The smaller boy continued, "The madman chased him here and asked, 'What are you doing?' The fool said, 'Wait until I count to one hundred, then you'll fall into this hole, and I'll have caught you!'"

"What kind of nonsense is this?" Wang Chao’s brow furrowed deeper. He caught sight of the shoe lying by the manhole, his eyes lit up. Recalling Zhang Xiaoman’s erratic behavior, he assumed he was looking for someone and suddenly understood. Thinking the "madman" the children referred to was Zhang Xiaoman, he hurriedly pressed, "So the madman fell in?"

The older child kept counting, "Wait a second, eighty-seven, eighty-eight..."

Wang Chao looked skeptically at the two children, leaned over, and peered into the pitch-black depths of the manhole.

At that exact moment, an aged voice exploded in his ear: "One hundred! I've caught you!"

Wang Chao shuddered, his hair standing on end. Just as he was about to turn around, a tremendous force slammed into his back, sending him hurtling toward the manhole. He looked up, face ashen, to see the elderly man in black raising his right foot. Wang Chao cursed, "Damn you!"