Chapter 31 Brave New World #2
He raises an eyebrow. “Use in what way?”
“She wanted me to terrorize Kowloon Walled City to demonstrate that it was unsafe, and get the government to finally demolish that place. My understanding is that she owns some property there, and she’d stand to gain from the compensation payouts should it be demolished.”
He blinks. “I see. And what would happen to you, once that job was complete?”
“Nothing good. That’s why I took her skin. She was never going to truly set me free.”
“In that case,” Wing Yun says gravely, “I am not upset about what you did to her. I’ve done too many dark things in my wartime days to judge you, Siu Yin.”
The waiter comes over, interrupting the chat.
You give him an order of shared afternoon tea.
It’s more for the experience of the fancy three-tiered trays than because you have any liking for bland, overpriced cakes.
Some working-class part of you is still tickled to be eating where wealthy expats like to take lunch, and that is its own kind of satiation.
When the waiter is gone, Wing Yun says, “What will you do now? And what about the other ghosts, who fought in the resistance?”
“I would love to set them free, if I could. It is complicated, though. While I can visit most of the ghosts that are bound in the cells beneath the building, there are wards, guards, all sorts of things. I will need time to plan.” Offer him a wan smile.
“I have not forgotten them. Nor the debt this city owes me.”
He nods. “I won’t ask what you mean by that. Think I’m happier not knowing about your plans for revenge.”
“Not going to talk me out of it?”
Wing Yun looks at you hard, his gaze steady and shrewd. “I don’t have the right to do that, Siu Yin. No one does. Only you can decide what is justice.”
“That’s … very philosophical,” you say dryly.
“I’m not finished.” He leans forward. “I won’t judge, but I will say this.
I am an old man, after many years of living in Hong Kong.
You are forever young, the spirit of a girl shunted between skins, collecting pain and yet never growing up.
So, we look at life differently. What I see, Siu Yin, is that my life is running out, and I number my days carefully now.
What time I have, I spend on good things.
What energy I have, I spend on carrying my own bones.
There is not enough of my time left for hate, or enough energy to carry anger. ”
Irritation makes your shoulders twitch. “What’s your point? Like you said, I’m not you. Death already came for me and now I am eternal, something beyond mortality. I have plenty of time and energy for my hate, my anger, my unfinished business.”
“What you have,” he says, a little sadly, “is a chance to live life anew. You do not have to take more skins, you do not have to exact revenge. There does not need to be more death.”
“There is always more death,” you say, stiffly. “The world owes me a debt.”
He shakes his head. “I am sorry for all you have lost, but life is not an abacus where we get to balance the accounts. Humans simply carry on, looking for good when we can find it, and enduring our difficulties when we cannot.”
“For you, maybe, but I don’t accept that anymore.”
The waiter returns, putting down the elegant little tray with its tiny sandwiches and cakes. He flutters around annoyingly, making a fuss of it all while the two of you sit in awkward silence, before eventually leaving.
When he is gone, you say in a low voice, “You were right about one thing. You don’t understand.
I am not doing this to ‘balance’ any universal books.
Those can never be balanced. One death doesn’t cancel out another.
Mei Chi’s pain doesn’t pay for mine. Karma is not an exchange system, and I know that keenly. ”
He spreads his hands. “Then why? Why not rest, move on, forget yourself, have a new life?”
“Because I need my pain to mean something.” You take a cake and bite into it, but his words have soured your appetite; the cream and sponge tastes of ashes.
“I can’t bear that my death was meaningless, or that those who made me suffer have never had to face what they’ve done.
I don’t want or need them to make amends, because that is impossible.
I only want them to understand the pain they’ve caused. Is that so much to ask?”
“It is and it isn’t.” He sighs. “I can see your mind is made up, Siu Yin.”
“Correct.” You chew through the remainder of the cake slice with wooden efficiency.
He studies his hands, seems to be thinking, then nods slowly. “In that case … in that case, I have news you may wish to hear.”
A flutter in your stolen stomach. “What news?”
“I found her,” Wing Yun says, simply. “You asked me to look for your mother and your aunt, so I did. Can’t help with Mei Chi, but I did locate your mother, a few years ago.”
Shoot to your feet, tense as wire. “Where?”
“She’s in a government-run old folks’ home. It can wait till after you’ve eaten—”
“I don’t care about cake.” You fish out some bills and toss them on the table. “Take me there right now. Please?”