Back in the room, the old woman asked who the man outside was, Ye Xingguang seemed particularly proud.
"It's the one I told you about when I was a child, the brother who loves me, little Jiushu is not without people who care for her. You didn't believe me, so I brought him here to show you. But I haven't recognized him yet. Let's leave that aside. Little Jiushu came to ask you a question."
The old woman rolled her deeply creviced eyelids: "I knew it, you never visit without a reason."
"This is my house, you know," she retorted.
Ye Xingguang flopped down onto the chair, sinking into it as if she were boneless and crossed her legs. On the wooden wall hung a fishbone whistle she loved to blow as a child.
The old woman was more or less satisfied with her words. Leaning on her crutch and hunched over, she moved slowly to sit on another chair. She fixated on Ye Xingguang, looking insatiable, and after a long while asked, "What brings you here to risk all?"
