Reservoir Dogs chapter 57
Jiang Bin
Xiao Zhou had a hunch about the old man’s identity. He walked down the stairs quietly.
The old man still had his eyes closed, but it seemed as if he had grown another pair of eyes on his body. Suddenly, when Xiao Zhou approached him, he asked, “Are you the person that Chengyuan brought back?”
Stopping three steps away from him, Xiao Zhou replied, “Yes, uncle.”
The rocking chair swayed gently as the old man continued, “Suqin likes you very much. She praises you as young and promising, reserved yet kind-hearted and thoughtful. She thinks Chengyuan has found a treasure, and that my son isn’t worthy of you.”
It took Xiao Zhou a moment to remember that Suqin was Jiang’s mother’s name, Yang Suqin. He felt embarrassed, realizing that the lies he had woven during the day had been taken seriously. Jiang Chengyuan had fabricated an imaginary person to deceive his mother and everyone else, portraying him as pure and idealistic.
After a pause, Xiao Zhou managed to say with composure, “There’s no question of worthiness. It’s fortunate that we’ve met each other.”
Upon hearing this, the old man finally opened his eyes, revealing a bit of a smile on his weathered but still strong face—not a genuine smile, but the habitual, knowing smile he wore in public. “Good, I know all the faults of my own son. He’s ruthless and cunning. If you can handle him, then that’s good.”
With that, he closed his eyes again, as if the episode with Xiao Zhou had never occurred.
Xiao Zhou stood still for a moment, ensuring there would be no further questions, before quietly fetching a glass of water and returning upstairs.
Just as he stepped onto the stairs, he heard the old man say, “Go to bed early tonight. Don’t wander around if you can’t sleep. When night falls, all sorts of things come out.”
Xiao Zhou froze, respectfully replied, “Yes,” and wished him good night.
In the quiet night, the singing voices from the TV were particularly loud.
The next morning, Xiao Zhou encountered Jiang’s father again. Clad in a white robe, with black eyebrows and white hair, he stood tall as Xiao Zhou descended the stairs. In daylight, he didn’t seem as fierce as he had the previous night; his eyes showed signs of fatigue, with drooping eyelids and heavy bags under his eyes, not really hawk-like.
During breakfast, Jiang’s father acted as if he hadn’t met Xiao Zhou the night before, listening again as Jiang Chengyuan introduced him. At the dining table, it was evident that Jiang Chengyuan’s relationship with his father was not as close as with his mother; despite the same respect, there was a noticeable distance and even deliberate coldness between them. Breakfast proceeded smoothly, largely due to Jiang’s mother’s efforts to mediate.
After a brief moment seated at the table, Jiang Chengyuan mentioned his remote meeting scheduled for the morning and excused himself upstairs, leaving Xiao Zhou alone with his parents.
After finally enduring breakfast, Xiao Zhou originally wanted to find an excuse to leave, but was stopped by Jiang’s father, who said he wanted to show him his private collection. Jiang’s mother, as usual, had morning prayers and did not accompany them.
Jiang’s father opened a room dedicated to his various sea treasures. There were small seashells and large fish bones and fishing collectibles. Jiang’s father enthusiastically introduced each item, but Xiao Zhou, already uncomfortable with water, now found himself developing a deep-sea phobia.
To change the subject, he noticed another display case in the corner of the room showcasing various trophies and certificates of honor. Behind the display case hung a banner on the wall that read, “Administering justice impartially, the law is as steadfast as a mountain.”
Seeing Xiao Zhou’s attention drawn to the display case, Jiang Bin smiled broadly and took him over, pointing out the trophies and certificates, “These are all past honors. They are mere titles in the end; what matters most is public satisfaction.”
Only then did Xiao Zhou realize that before retiring, Jiang’s father was the chief justice of the high court, and the Jiang family could indeed be considered legal aristocracy. Jiang Bin was known for his swift handling of cases and refusal to yield, earning him the nickname “Iron Judge” from the public. He had even been named one of the “Top 100 Judges in the Country,” truly embodying a contemporary judge Dee.
“The honor banner on the wall was given to him by the family of the victim after he sentenced his own sister’s friend’s son to death,” Jiang Chengyuan suddenly appeared at the door, his words filled with mockery. “His sister knelt in front of him, begging for mercy and threatening to sever ties. In the end, he still insisted on the death sentence, and the victim’s family, in praise of his impartiality and great justice, specially delivered it to his office when the death sentence was carried out. Everyone ended up happy, and his sister eventually understood his determination.”
Jiang Bin’s face turned solemn and dark, his body even trembling imperceptibly. It took him a while to turn his head and glance at Jiang Chengyuan, “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting? Why are you here?”
Jiang Chengyuan stood straight, his face cold. “I have something to discuss with him.” He looked at Xiao Zhou, his meaning clear.
Jiang Bin said nothing more. After a while, he waved his hand, indicating Xiao Zhou to leave, then walked through the door without even lifting his eyes.
Xiao Zhou found the father and son’s interaction very strange. He thought of Jiang Bin’s assessment of Jiang Chengyuan last night—what kind of father would speak of his son in such a way?
Jiang Chengyuan stepped forward and stood beneath the honor banner. Xiao Zhou asked him what the matter was.
Only then did Jiang Chengyuan turn his head and smile at him, asking if he was interested in going out for a drive?
The weather that day wasn’t great, with thick, heavy clouds and mist swirling around the mountains.
Driving along the mountain road in circles, Jiang Chengyuan didn’t seem to have a specific destination. “It’s foggy today, you can’t see the scenery far away. On a sunny day, this place is very beautiful.”
He opened the windows on both sides, letting in the moist air mixed with the fragrance of the woods. Xiao Zhou looked outside, the white fog covering the scenery below the mountain, making this place seem like a fairyland in the clouds.
Xiao Zhou reached his hand into the mist, feeling only a damp vapor. The car moved slowly, climbing a gentle slope, as Jiang Chengyuan drove from one hilltop to another.
“I originally wanted to take you to see the sunrise, but these days the sea has been rough, and all we see is fog,” Jiang Chengyuan said.
Xiao Zhou continued looking out the window, realizing that below the shrouded white fog lay the sea.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “This place is fine.”
As the car reached the peak, they got out. It was a flat platform surrounded by mixed trees and two old pine trees welcoming guests. In the distance, there was nothing but white mist. On the top, there was a stone with the inscription in cinnabar, “Fairy Stone,” with a myth about immortals and mortals in love.
Jiang Chengyuan leaned against the hood, a cigarette in his mouth, cupping the flame with his hand. The wind on the mountaintop was strong, and it took several attempts before he lit the fire with his lighter.
He took a drag, exhaling slowly, a spark held between his fingers. Xiao Zhou walked up beside him.
“Today the fog is too thick; we can’t walk tonight. We’ll have to come back tomorrow,” Jiang Chengyuan said.
Xiao Zhou replied, “It’s not urgent. Since you’ve come back, why not spend more time with your parents?”
Jiang Chengyuan lowered his head, a cold smile on his lips in the shadows. “Some people aren’t comfortable with my presence here.”
Xiao Zhou’s lips moved, but he didn’t speak. Jiang Chengyuan passed the cigarette to him, and he skillfully took a drag. At first, Xiao Zhou wasn’t used to it, but soon he felt almost addicted to the sensation.
Wreaths of smoke enveloped them both.
“After dinner, I’ll make a birthday toast. I’ve prepared a gift for you—a necklace with emeralds. You can give it to my mother during dinner,” Jiang Chengyuan said.
“I’ve also prepared a gift myself,” Xiao Zhou replied.
Jiang Chengyuan raised an eyebrow, staring at him. “When did you buy it?”
“It’s nothing expensive. I copied a sutra yesterday and wanted to give it to Auntie. Since it’s a birthday celebration, I couldn’t come empty-handed,” Xiao Zhou said.
Jiang Chengyuan withdrew his gaze, smiling faintly. “She’ll appreciate it. Copying sutras earns merit—seven parts for the scribe, three for the recipient—especially when it comes with sincerity. She once copied the entire Avatamsaka Sutra for Jiang Bin, a whole year of work.”
With a mocking lift of his lips, Jiang Chengyuan continued, “But back then, she wasn’t yet Mrs. Jiang. So when it came to gifts, one person was sincere, while the other felt awkward and annoyed, resenting her meaningless actions, having to sneak around like a thief.”
Gazing into the distance, Jiang Chengyuan’s eyes focused on the ethereal clouds swirling around the mountaintop. “People burdened with guilt often turn to superstition. They’d rather believe in something than nothing. That gift is one such superstition—mustn’t lose it or misplace it, kept at home like a ticking time bomb, making Jiang Bin nervous, afraid of it being discovered by the real Mrs. Jiang. After two days, he finally returned it to my mother.”
Xiao Zhou was taken aback by Jiang Chengyuan’s implications. So, that devout old woman was actually the mistress? And Jiang Chengyuan was the son from the affair?