Three mornings after visiting the Seventh Dock, Li Wei returned.
This time he came on foot.
No family car.
No driver.
No polished shoes that announced who he was before he spoke.
He wore an old navy jacket he'd borrowed from one of the estate's workers. The sleeves were slightly too short, but it was enough to help him disappear into the dockside crowd.
The river smelled of salt, damp rope, and coal smoke.
Fishing boats rocked lazily against the pier while workers shouted over the groan of cranes unloading cargo.
It was busy enough that no one paid attention to one more man walking along the waterfront.
Exactly what Li Wei wanted.
An Old Habit
Near the end of the dock sat an elderly man on an overturned wooden crate.
Gray hair.
Patched cotton jacket.
A cloth bag resting at his feet.
He scattered handfuls of grain across the stones.
Pigeons crowded around him without fear.
Li Wei walked past him once.
Then again.
The old man never looked up.
Instead, he said quietly,
"You're walking in circles."
Li Wei stopped.
"I could say the same about you."
The old man smiled faintly.
"I know why I'm here."
Only then did he lift his head.
His eyes were surprisingly sharp.
"The better question is..."
He brushed grain from his hands.
"...do you?"
Not What He Expected
Li Wei should have walked away.
Instead, he sat on the empty crate beside him.
The pigeons barely reacted.
"They told you to stop looking," the old man said.
"They did."
"And yet you're back."
"I usually ignore bad advice."
The old man chuckled.
"That explains the bruises."
For the first time in days, Li Wei almost smiled.
Across the City
The lunch rush had just ended.
Chen Hao balanced three empty bowls on one arm.
"I've decided customers are suspicious."
Yulan looked up from wiping the counter.
"Why?"
"They always arrive hungry."
"...That's how restaurants work."
"I remain suspicious."
Yulan shook his head, trying not to laugh.
His father emerged from the kitchen carrying a dented wooden box.
"I need these delivered."
"Where?"
"Old Zhao's herbal clinic."
Yulan took the box without complaint.
"I'll go."
A Familiar Face
The clinic sat only a few streets from the river.
While Old Zhao searched for medicine in the back room, Yulan wandered toward the window.
Outside, across the narrow street, he noticed someone.
The same man who had ordered only tea a few days earlier.
The stranger looked over his shoulder twice before slipping into a narrow alley.
Not normal.
Yulan hesitated.
Old Zhao returned.
"Tell your father these herbs should help his knee."
Yulan accepted the package.
But his eyes drifted back to the alley.
The stranger was gone.
A Name at Last
Back at the dock, the old man finally spoke again.
"My name is Gu Sheng."
He offered no family name.
Just those two words.
"I used to keep records."
"For whom?" Li Wei asked.
Gu Sheng looked toward the river.
"For people who believed paper was easier to bury than bodies."
Li Wei didn't interrupt.
The old man's voice stayed calm, almost conversational.
"Then one day I realized I was keeping records of men who were disappearing."
A fishing bell rang somewhere across the water.
Neither of them moved.
The Ledger
Gu Sheng reached into his cloth bag.
Not dramatically.
Almost absentmindedly.
He pulled out a weathered notebook no larger than his hand.
Its leather cover had cracked with age.
"I've carried this for twelve years."
He rested it on his knee.
"I was waiting for someone stubborn enough to come back."
Li Wei stared at it.
"What is it?"
"A copy."
"Of what?"
"The ledger they thought they destroyed."
The words settled heavily between them.
Not because they were loud.
Because they answered a question Li Wei hadn't known how to ask.
The Interrupted Exchange
Before Gu Sheng could hand it over, a whistle echoed from farther down the dock.
Short.
Sharp.
Deliberate.
Gu Sheng's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
"They're early."
Li Wei looked toward the sound.
Three men were approaching through the crowd.
Not running.
Walking with purpose.
Scanning faces.
Gu Sheng closed the notebook.
"Listen carefully."
His voice dropped.
"If I give this to you now, they'll search you before you leave."
Li Wei frowned.
"Then what do we do?"
The old man stood with surprising ease.
"We improvise."
He scattered the last of the grain.
The pigeons exploded into the air, wings beating loud enough to turn heads across the dock.
In that brief confusion, Gu Sheng pressed something small into Li Wei's hand.
Not the notebook.
A brass key.
Old, worn smooth by years of use.
"Locker twenty-three," he said.
"Railway station."
Then he turned and walked straight into the flock of startled people.
By the time the pigeons settled again...
He was gone.
One Small Mistake
Li Wei closed his fingers around the key.
When he looked up again, one of the approaching men had stopped.
Their eyes met across the dock.
The man frowned.
Recognition.
Not complete.
But close.
Li Wei turned calmly and blended into the workers leaving for the afternoon shift.
He didn't run.
Running would answer questions.
Walking gave him time.
Far behind him, the man touched the brim of his cap and spoke quietly to someone beside him.
"I've seen him before."
End of Chapter 42
The brass key felt heavier than it should have.
It was only metal.
But somewhere in the city, it opened a door someone had spent twelve years trying to keep closed.