Durão do Banheiro

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Life rushes by; don’t let yourself miss the sunset and the evening glow.

In Hubei Province, in Huang’an County, there lay a town so poor it bled itself dry.

In years gone by, this place had once been an ancient city, heavy with the epic hues of revolutionary war.

Those weathered city walls, those ancient alleys—each seemed to be recording a stirring tale of heroism, bearing witness to the turmoil and glory that had swept this land.

In this small town, at the Township Land Management Office in Xinghua.

The old gatehouse was stuffy and dim, the ceiling fan creaked overhead, stirring up hot, breathless air. Old Hu, hunched alone in the gloom, nodded off, his head drooping again and again.

Suddenly, the shrill ring of the telephone split the silence of the night, jarringly loud.

“Damn it all!” Old Hu cursed, startled awake.

At this hour, who could be calling?

Irritated, he slapped the table and snatched up the receiver. “Hello, who’s this?”

“… Oh, it’s Guifen? Chief Xue? … Ah, the chief went out with the director!”

“Yes, they left after work … for some business, I think. Yeah, I saw them. All right, I’m hanging up now.”

Click.

After hanging up, Old Hu flicked on the light, put on his reading glasses, and rummaged through a yellowed, battered phone book pulled from the drawer.

His wrinkled fingers slid slowly over the pages, found Xue Hongxing’s number, and dialed.

When all was done, he muttered to himself, switched off the light, leaned his head against the edge of the ch