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So he seated himself at a table next to theirs, tapping his finger on the liquor-stained surface, as if beating to the rhythm of the game.

He chose to sit there, however, not just because of the drinking game. The pub was located not far from the chemical company. Into their cups, people sometimes talked with loosened tongues. During another case, some time ago in Shanghai, he happened to obtain a piece of crucial information from a drunkard, an old neighbor he had known for years. Here, in another city, dealing with two strangers, he doubted he could have the same luck. Still, it was worth a try.

Aware of his interest in their game, the two appeared to be growing more energetic and effusive, popping up with proper and prompt responses to one another.

“The court was for justice-”

“The doctor helped the patient-”

“The medicine killed the bacteria-”

“From the fairy tale told to our children long, long ago … now I drink the cup-”

A crippled waiter emerged limping out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on an oily gray apron like a discolored map and smiling with a wrinkled face like a dried-up winter melon in the sunlight.

Chen ordered himself a beer, a smoked fish head, and half of a rice-wine-pickled pork tongue. On impulse, he also ordered the white smelt stir-fried with egg. That was one of the celebrated “three whites” here in Wuxi, the one he had not yet tried. Going by the prices on the blackboard menu hanging on the discolored wall, none of them cost more than ten yuan.

The two customers at the neighboring table must have been paying close attention to the discussion between Chen and the waiter. They even halted their game for two or three minutes. At this place, Chen must seem like a Big Buck customer. The moment the waiter limped away with his order, the two started their drinking game again, evidently with even greater gusto.

“An actress did not have to sleep with the director for a role-”

“A child’s father did not have to be tested for fatherhood-”

“People did not have to take off their clothes when taking pictures-”

“An idiot could not be a professor-”

“A married man could not keep little sisters-”

“Sex could not be bargained or sold-”

“Embezzlement was not encouraged-”

“Bad guys were punished-”

“Stealing was prohibited-”

“Rats were still in awe of cats-”

“A barbershop only cut hair-”

This time the game went on longer but was also more disorderly, no longer strictly following the parallel structure and without either of them stopping for a cup.

The waiter brought back Chen’s order and put it on the table without saying a word, then retreated back into the kitchen.

Raising his cup, Chen noticed that the bottle on the other table was empty and the two were looking at the “feast” on Chen’s table. One blinked his eyes obsequiously, and the other raised his thumb in exaggeration. The message was clear: they were waiting for his invitation. Chen couldn’t help wondering whether people in their cups were eventually all alike, too addicted to have much self-esteem or dignity left.

He nodded and said, “I happen to have overheard some of your brilliant maxims. Very impressive.”

“Thank you, sir. You are one who really appreciates the music,” the taller and thinner of the two said, grinning, smacking his lips. “My name is Zhang.”

“When the world turns upside down, you cannot but suffer when staying sober,” the short and stout one said, with his red pointed nose even redder in excitement. “My name is Li.”

Chen raised his cup in a friendly gesture of invitation. Sure enough, they moved over in a hurry, holding their two empty cups.

“I’m from another city and all alone here. As an ancient poet said, ‘How to deal with all the worries? / Nothing but the Dukang wine.’”

“Well said, young man.”

Chen pulled out two pairs of chopsticks for them and they didn’t wait for a second invitation, attacking the dishes as if they were at home.

“The pork tongue is delicious,” Zhang said, pouring beer into his cup, “but the beer tastes like water.”

Indeed, their cups were the tiny porcelain cups for liquor. So Chen ordered a bottle of Erguotou, the same as the empty bottle on their table. He also talked to the waiter about a salted yellow croaker pot, which Chen wanted to be sure wasn’t from the lake.

“No, just the Erguotou,” Li cut in like an old friend. “No more dishes.”

Before the waiter came back with the liquor, Li added in a hurried whisper, “You know how salted croaker is made. People spray DDT all over the fish to preserve it longer and cheaper. The other day I saw a fly landing on a salted fish here. Guess what? The fly died instantly. How poisonous!”

“Wow!”

“You’re an extraordinary man,” Zhang said, pouring himself a cup from the new bottle. “I could tell that with one glance.”

“Having listened to your extraordinary wine game, I have a couple of questions for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“Those comments were deep. But what about ‘Fish and shrimp were edible’? Let’s not talk about salted croaker. People relish fresh lake delicacies and especially so here.”

“Let me tell you something about the fish and shrimp in the lake. You can see how white the smelt looks, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Almost transparent, right?” Zhang said, taking a slow drink from his cup. “Now, let me tell you what. The smelt have long, long been immersed in formalin, so that they look dazzlingly white.”

“What? Aren’t they naturally white?” Chen said. “The three whites of the lake are widely celebrated.”

“In such a dirty, polluted lake, how can the smelt grow to be white and pure? If anything, they are now ghastly green or black, and no matter how long you put them in clean water, they remain discolored. That’s where the formalin comes in.”

“However contaminated the fish are, people still have to eat,” Li said with a dramatic sigh, resolutely chopsticking a smelt into his mouth. “To tell you the truth, I’ve not tasted it for months, tainted or not. How can a poor, down-and-out man like me afford to pick and choose?”

“Confucius says, Rites collapsed, music broken. That’s what happens in China today. When Chairman Mao led our country, there was no gap between the rich and the poor. A company boss earned about the same as a janitor. People all had secure jobs that were nonbreakable, like iron bowls.”

“You’re wrong, Zhang,” Li said, putting down his cup. “The gap was there under Mao as well, but you didn’t see it, not that easily. Not far away, for instance, is the high-ranking cadre center where Party officials can enjoy all the privileges for free. Could you have ever stepped into it?”

“Yes, this used to be one of the best resorts for high cadres, and they would come here from all over the country. But with the lake now so polluted, they aren’t so interested in it anymore.”

Was that the reason for Comrade Secretary Zhao’s refusal to come here? Possibly. In his position, Zhao could afford to pick and choose. Not so for Chief Inspector Chen. In fact, it was an amazing stroke of luck for him to be chosen to come here. Or was it?

“Wrong again. Do you think those high cadres will have to eat the fish and shrimp from the lake here? No way. Theirs are shipped in specially.”

Chen nodded. That was exactly what he had heard earlier at the banquet table in the center.

“What a crying lake! More and more people around here get cancer and other mysterious diseases. My old friend was rushed to the hospital with so much arsenic accumulated in his body that the doctors were all amazed.”

“What toxic air people breathe every day! More and more babies are born disfigured. My next-door neighbor had a son who was born looking like a toad, all covered with green hair.”

It began to sound like another round of the drinking game, except it was with more horrible, concrete examples. Chen listened without interrupting, or eating, or drinking. He hadn’t been hungry and was now even less so, while the other two had kept themselves busy devouring, then discussing, as if anxious to pay him back that way.