Leihuo bellowed with rage and hurried toward Uncle Ji’s place. He had just been arguing with Dad and Mama. Dad resented his hanging out at the marsh so much of the time and being so close to someone like Uncle Ji. The way Dad saw it, Uncle Ji didn’t even count as a person; he was not a fully formed thing. If Leihuo spent too much time with him, he would never amount to anything. His vision would turn blurry. And eyesight was what the people of Xiawang village relied on for their living; the villagers had been hunters for generations.

One of Uncle Ji’s legs was shorter than the other, and he had only one eye. He looked very peculiar. He was on welfare; he had only a little grain and a few vegetables to eat. His paradise was the marsh that was neglected by the villagers. Early in the morning, leaning on his walking sticks and carrying his lunch, he walked to the marsh. He didn’t go home until the sun set behind the mountain. The place where he liked to spend his time had a pond where lotuses grew: they were as big as a bathtub. When the lotus leaves stood up, they were like a real bathtub. The water lilies were golden—a rare variety. Some little light brown birds with a chessboard pattern on their breasts took baths in those tubs. Uncle Ji sat on the ground, half-sleeping, and softly calling: “Leihuo, Leihuo . . .”

The two of them had noticed each other at the same time. After noticing each other, they got to know one another, and after that, they couldn’t be separated. Uncle Ji liked Leihuo’s curiosity; Leihuo liked the fact that Uncle Ji planned far ahead. The day that the young man arrived, Uncle Ji heard his footsteps from a distance. Uncle Ji waited for him calmly. As Leihuo saw it, Uncle Ji’s heart stored inexhaustible mysteries, and even a smattering of knowledge would leave him with lingering memories.  But Leihuo remained on the surface. He ran into impenetrable barriers as one day followed another, and he was making no progress. Undiscouraged, he persevered.

Only plants and tiny animals lived in the marsh. There was nothing that could be hunted. Even if there were, these two people had no interest in hunting. Leihuo thought, he and Uncle Ji were the guardians of this place. In the beginning, the two of them sat silently on Uncle Ji’s grassy land and Leihuo listened closely. The marsh held many sounds, and Uncle Ji’s insides also made vague sounds. Leihuo thought, perhaps the sounds in Uncle Ji’s body were responses to the animals in the marsh. If he could distinguish the tiny animals’ sounds, then he could understand Uncle Ji’s responses. Later on, after Leihuo could distinguish the sounds made by worms, small water snakes, frogs, and many rare hummingbirds, leeches, schistosomes, miniature lizards, giant salamanders, and other things, he still couldn’t figure out what Uncle Ji’s internal sounds meant. Uncle Ji was a riddle inside a riddle.

“What do you have in common with Uncle Ji?” Dad asked Leihuo. “He’s a defective child of the mountain forests. He will never have a normal IQ. Of course, this man really has some strange ways of looking at things. We can’t explain that. Sometimes, I can’t help but admire him. But that sort of ability can’t help him grow up. And so what use is it? Tell me that.”

“I don’t know,” Leihuo answered hesitantly.

Leihuo wondered if Dad meant he should distance himself from Uncle Ji. It seemed so, yet it also seemed he didn’t mean that. Why would other people have to be on guard with a defective child of the forests? Since even he—such a fine hunter—respected him, then some things about Uncle Ji must be outstanding. Why did Dad have to criticize him for being with this man? He was disgusted with Dad, and so in the midst of their argument, he howled and rushed out of their home. As he thought back on it, he couldn’t remember what he had howled. Most likely it wasn’t words, but something similar to a dog’s furious barking.

Now, as he sat with Uncle Ji on the grassy land, everything was so fresh and cool. Leihuo heard a sound come through Uncle Ji’s body: it was like several bubbles escaping from a quagmire. He hadn’t heard sounds like this before. He shifted a little closer to Uncle Ji. Staring at Leihuo with his one eye, Uncle Ji said, “Hunters are halfway up the mountain.”

“Hunters have already reached the halfway point?” Leihuo asked.

Uncle Ji nodded. Leihuo saw a little bird with a chessboard pattern on its breast land on Uncle Ji’s shoulder. It probably thought that Uncle Ji was a short tree. Leihuo sensed that Uncle Ji knew the villagers’ movements like the back of his hand. He  apparently didn’t catch sounds through the air, but by some other channel. Dad claimed that this ability was useless, but wasn’t this the most useful for hunting? What was this all about? Leihuo also thought that he himself was disabled: he had never been able to keep up with Uncle Ji’s hearing; he could only sit here foolishly with him. If anybody was incomplete, it was Leihuo. Hadn’t even a little bird landed on him? In any case, Leihuo’s turbulent and unsettled heart could only feel tranquil when he was here with Uncle Ji. From the time he was a child, he had never been able to understand the residents of Xiawang village. When Leihuo turned eighteen, he had made it clear to his dad that he didn’t want to be a hunter. He spent more than ten days getting ready for this before he finally summoned the courage to speak up. His dad didn’t make a big fuss about it. He just looked at him and said, “If you don’t become a hunter, then what can you do? This is Xiawang village.” Leihuo didn’t know what he wanted to become. Even now, he didn’t know. Only one thing was becoming more and more clear: he must (the best thing was to do it every day) come to the marsh and keep Uncle Ji company. Sometimes, he did come, but most of the time, he had to do all kinds of housework. Dad said that since he wasn’t a hunter, he had to do housework.

Uncle Ji sat bolt upright on the grass. Usually, whenever he had to stand up, he moved in a peculiar way: he almost jumped up from the grass and then pivoted on his one leg to stand up straight. At first, Leihuo could hardly believe his eyes. Inwardly, he cried out in surprise: he’s exactly like an acrobat!

“Leihuo . . . Huo!” Uncle Ji said.

“Uncle Ji,” Leihuo responded respectfully.

Because of the argument at home, Leihuo decided he would stay at the marsh a little longer.

When the monitor lizard appeared, Leihuo didn’t pay any attention. He thought it was a heap of mud because he didn’t think any large animals lived here. Uncle Ji noticed it first, but he sat motionless, just flashing his single eye. Finally Leihuo noticed it and thought briefly about running off, but Uncle Ji’s manner seemed like an order and made it look as if he had been absorbed by that thing. The big shadow moved toward them slowly, and the gleam in Uncle Ji’s eye became brighter and brighter. In a split second, Leihuo felt it was the end of the world—he’d been expecting this since childhood. How could it be happening now? Where was he?

When Leihuo’s gaze fell on Uncle Ji’s face again, the gleam in his eye had disappeared, and his single eye was looking kindly at Leihuo. The monitor lizard was slowly moving into the distance. The little animals all around started making noise again, and Leihuo suddenly remembered that the monitor lizard had been noiseless. So had it come to visit Uncle Ji? Uncle Ji’s gaze was filled with so much longing for it! Leihuo thought, nothing obstructed Uncle Ji’s sense of hearing. Now he must be able to hear where that beast was, and he knew where it was living. Maybe he and it were really the same; the fact that they looked different didn’t necessarily indicate that they weren’t the same species. Leihuo understood that today was a turning point in his life: he had argued with his family, and now at the marsh he had run into destiny’s frightening demon. Uncle Ji’s body had now turned quiet; he looked perfectly content. When he realized that most of the love in Uncle Ji’s heart was being offered to that big creature, Leihuo couldn’t help feeling dejected. After searching his heart, he knew that he himself couldn’t love that savage-looking beast. But why had he felt that it was the end of the world? Was he subconsciously hoping that something would happen? Were he and Uncle Ji looking forward to the same thing? Look, Uncle Ji had jumped up. Now the two of them wanted to go home. The marsh had become terribly noisy!

However, they ran into the monitor lizard again: it was crouching in the shallow gutter where the weeds grew tall. It stuck its head into the weeds. It looked just like a fossil.

“Hey!” Uncle Ji was pointing at it happily.

“Oh, it’s really extraordinary!” Leihuo gasped.

They passed the monitor lizard without stopping.

***

Leihuo was at home chopping pigfeed. He couldn’t go out today.

“Did you get anything today, Dad?” he asked.

“No. There were wild boars, but they can’t be killed, because then there wouldn’t be any more of them on the mountain.”

“Ah.”

“You little rascal, why are you sighing?”

“It’s not okay not to be a hunter?”

“Of course it isn’t!” Dad said, “If everyone was like Uncle Ji, how could the village keep going? Everyone would starve to death!”

Leihuo continued chopping pigfeed. Dad’s wrong, he thought, absolutely wrong!

Uncle Ji had his own ways of surviving. Even if everyone was a hunter, that didn’t necessarily mean that they wouldn’t starve to death. This made him feel sad—if Dad and Mama really did starve to death, then where would he be? Could Uncle Ji survive without being on welfare? Dad looked down at him and said in a milder tone: “You’re really foolish. In fact, if everyone lived the way Uncle Ji did, they wouldn’t die. That’s what you were thinking of saying, weren’t you? There’s always a way . . .”

Dad’s expression was unexpectedly hard to interpret. Leihuo read a lot of meaning into Dad’s gaze. He went back to the kitchen to deal with some dead pheasants. Leihuo felt cold air penetrating his body. He wondered if his dad thought he was a parasite. Was he a burden on the family? His dad didn’t seem to think so.

The pigs loved the swill because he understood what they wanted. Whenever a pig was slaughtered, Leihuo cried; he couldn’t bear it. Now he set up a large cooking pot. He liked doing this. As soon as he started boiling sweet potatoes, he imagined the pigs eating the swill. He knew how to do this until it was just right. The pigs, especially the spotted one, were snorting impatiently on the other side of the fence. Unbidden, a smile floated on his face. Many times in the middle of the night he’d tried driving the spotted piglet out of the pen to the road outside, hoping it would escape under the starry sky. But the piglet stood motionless in the center of the road and then actually lay down. Leihuo had no choice: he had to drive it back to the pen. Was it futile to try to help it run away?

After boiling the pigfeed, he let it cool and went out to water the vegetable garden.

Someone was standing at the winter melon trellis, placing his ear next to the biggest winter melon. Sure enough, it was Uncle Ji. Why hadn’t he gone to the marsh? Leihuo was really excited, because this was the first time that Uncle Ji had come to his home.

“The biggest one, the biggest . . .” Leihuo said, blushing.

“Good . . .” Uncle Ji said.

Leihuo suddenly saw that this winter melon’s shape and color looked a lot like the monitor lizard at the marsh! Truly, the longer he looked, the more resemblance he saw. Could it be an avatar of the lizard? Leihuo was puzzled when Uncle Ji began laughing heartily. Who was he laughing at? Then Uncle Ji waved goodbye. Leihuo saw that Uncle Ji wasn’t leaning on crutches today. He was hopping as nimbly as a frog as he walked ahead. It was hard to describe what he looked like jumping up with just one leg. Leihuo thought, The monitor lizard and the winter melon were completely different things. What had made Uncle Ji think that they were similar? Mimicking Uncle Ji, Leihuo placed his ear against the winter melon, but he didn’t hear a thing. Evidently, he lacked Uncle Ji’s sense of hearing. He remembered that a few days ago, Dad had raised and strengthened the fence’s gate and had added a lock as well. Had he done this to keep Uncle Ji out? If so, how had Uncle Ji entered? Had he flown in? Was it precisely in order to force Uncle Ji to fly in that Dad had changed the gate? Leihuo felt that Dad was as eccentric as Uncle Ji.

Finally done watering the winter melons, Leihuo went off to feed the pigs.

The spotted piglet snorted happily as it ate. Oh, it was so docile! Oh, so connected with humanity! Leihuo thought admiringly, fascinated. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling a sweet potato vine out of the pig’s trough and popping it into his mouth and chewing it.

“Leihuo, what are you eating?” Mama asked.

“Haha . . .” He laughed awkwardly.

“Leihuo, you work too hard. It would be better to relax a little.”

“Isn’t there an old saying that people and animals empathize with each other?”

“What a good child our Leihuo is.”

After feeding the pig, Leihuo sat down and rested a while. Through the window, he looked at the winter melons in the vegetable garden, and once more thought about the similarity with the monitor lizard. Especially the color! It was exactly the same! Besides that, if the monitor lizard didn’t have legs, its body would be the same shape as the winter melon’s. When he was a child, Leihuo had seen a lizard next to the pond. It was this color and shape, too, but it was small—only as large as the palm of a child’s hand. Could this monitor lizard be the same lizard he’d seen as a child? How had it walked so far, finally arriving at the marsh? Probably Uncle Ji could answer these riddles. Since Dad thought that Uncle Ji couldn’t be considered a person, then perhaps he was the lizard’s relative? Leihuo thought that, on the outside, Uncle Ji looked like a frog.                                                                                                                

“Leihuo, you’ll be nineteen soon. Would you like a spotted piglet for a pet?”

“No, Mama. I don’t want to raise a pet in the house.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“Nothing. I’d just like you to let me go to the marsh every day. I’ve remembered, Mama: a water lily in the pond says hello to you.”

“How do you know?”

“I learned that from Uncle Ji. Over there, there’s nothing that he doesn’t know.”

“Uncle Ji is truly impressive. He knows how to do things right. Uncle Ji’s parents weren’t from this village. They came here to escape a famine and never left. Their graves are next to the marsh. Uncle Ji goes there every day; he wants to stay with them.”

“Were Uncle Ji’s parents different from the other villagers?”

“Yes, a little, but I can’t say how. Their foreheads . . .”

Mama made an effort to recall, then yawned and said she was sleepy. She went to her bedroom. Leihuo was amazed and kept repeating, “Their foreheads, their foreheads . . .” Then he wondered again, did he want to raise pets? The answer came quickly: No. He could be certain that Uncle Ji would not raise pets. Even if he saw neighbors slaughter pigs day after day, he wouldn’t raise them.

A grim laugh escaped him. He was startled by this grim laughter. Feeling a little troubled, he walked over to the main road. He saw that the village farmers had knocked off work for the day. While he stood foolishly in the center of the road, these folks detoured around him. But he still heard some of their whispers: “Leihuo, Leihuo . . .” They sounded worried. Were these neighbors concerned about him? Leihuo had always thought these villagers were brave and rarely worried about anything.

Everyone was gone, and the road was deserted. Leihuo was still standing in the same place. He heard a voice shouting in his heart, but he couldn’t hear what it was saying. Maybe it was the spotted piglet shouting? Just then, a real voice sounded: it was Mama calling for him to come home and eat.

They ate pheasant; it was savory. Dad said that while he was on the mountain, he had thought Uncle Ji was prey and almost killed him. “He was hanging from a tree. I thought he was a leopard. Isn’t he at the marsh every day? Why did he go to the mountain? I was surprised by how nimble he was—climbing the tree with one leg.  I heard him shouting and felt embarrassed. I felt bad as I came down the mountain. Oh.”

Leihuo opened his eyes wide and forgot to eat. He really couldn’t have imagined such a thing! Dad evidently regretted bringing this up. Looking dispirited, he set down his bowl and went outside.

“Uncle Ji is a sore point with your dad,” Mama said. “Sometimes, he competes with him; sometimes, he admires him because Uncle Ji is always ahead of everyone else.”

“But Dad always says he isn’t a person. Then what is he?”

“Your dad is praising Uncle Ji.”

“Then why doesn’t he want me to spend time with him?”

“Because there’s work to be done at home. Because dreaming isn’t food.”

Leihuo bent his head and ate. He thought excitedly, Dad’s been defeated by Uncle Ji. His blood raced as he thought of Uncle Ji in the tree; he had actually deceived a hunter who had both eyes! What kind of stuff was Uncle Ji made of?

“Leihuo, you mustn’t take a stand against your dad,” Mama said softly.

“I can’t, Mama.”

While Leihuo was chopping firewood in the yard, he was still wondering: What kind of sound did Uncle Ji make when he was in the tree? Could it have been a leopard’s roar? Dad was like a trapped animal, walking back and forth in the enclosure, probably still sulking. Leihuo knew that in Dad’s heart, the hunter’s dignity came first.

As Leihuo set down his hoe, Dad walked over suddenly and asked, “Leihuo, are you thinking of leaving us and traveling the world with Uncle Ji?”

“I haven’t thought about that yet,” Leihuo answered sincerely.

“Give it some thought.”

Leihuo was stupefied. Later he wondered what kind of thing had crumbled in Dad’s heart.

***

At the crack of dawn, Uncle Ji showed up at Leihuo’s home and waited for him at the door. He said he wanted to take Leihuo somewhere.

“Not the marsh?” Leihuo asked, puzzled.

“Sort of,” Uncle Ji said vaguely.

Uncle Ji jumped ahead. A three-wheeled vehicle stopped in front of them. Surprisingly, the driver had three eyes.

With one hop, Uncle Ji jumped onto the three-wheeled vehicle, and Leihuo followed him. They sat in the back.

“Is he also tired of living in the village?” the driver asked.

“He . . . he has wild ambitions,” Uncle Ji said with his one eye closed.

“Wild ambitions? Hooray! Everyone who goes to this sort of place has wild ambitions.”

This guy drove the three-wheeled vehicle at breakneck speed.  They left the village, and before long Leihuo had no idea which direction they were taking. It seemed as if the vehicle was running beside the marsh, but it wasn’t the part of the marsh that he knew so well. It was a different part, one that was boundless and very fertile. Large, grotesquely shaped primeval trees grew everywhere, and enormous birds circled in the air. Under almost every large tree were one or two enormous lizards, similar to the one that Leihuo had seen before. This part of the marsh seemed to have no animals other than enormous birds and monitor lizards, and they were silent. It was deathly still here. But where did this road lead? It wound around the marsh. On the other side of the road were farmhouses and farmland. Leihuo saw that dark bubbles were rising from the water in one part of the marsh, and he thought that probably animals were under that water. He screwed up his courage. “Uncle Ji, what’s the name of this place?”

“It has no name,” Uncle Ji answered.

“This kid is just asking for trouble!” the driver taunted.

Leihuo felt feverish, and he looked away from the vehicle. Just then, an enormous bird flew past his face, and the coarse feathers scratching his face drew blood. He covered his face with his hands.

“Okay! Okay . . .” the driver said.

The guy drove even faster. Leihuo felt that the vehicle was flying, and so he gripped the bar in front of him tightly. Uncle Ji was groaning.

The vehicle came to a sudden stop at the side of the road. Leihuo heard the driver say, “I’ll go back and take a look.” Then he saw him get down and walk into the marsh. Uncle Ji told Leihuo to get out, too. He said, “You can’t drown here.” With that, he left Leihuo behind and jumped into the marsh by himself. Leihuo was amazed by Uncle Ji’s action. He was even more agile than a monkey. He saw him step into the water and jump up and down. Before long, he had disappeared in the depths of the ancient trees. Leihuo thought that since Uncle Ji had told him that people couldn’t drown here, and since this seemed to be the driver’s home, he had no reason to be afraid. He had just taken two or three cautious steps toward the wetland when he sensed he was causing a huge disturbance in this deathly still place. Two enormous birds were roaring mournfully as if they were struggling to come toward him, but they faltered and flew back to a high elevation. He heard a loud movement in the water hole but didn’t know what animal it was. In the distance, under the ancient tree, two monitor lizards were crawling toward him. Leihuo shouted involuntarily, “Uncle Ji! Uncle Ji! Where are you?”

“I’m home . . . You’re on your own!” the driver answered him from somewhere.

In the water, Leihuo had an odd feeling: this place wouldn’t let him sink, nor would it let him stand on solid, muddy land. All he could do was move slowly. Bubbly muddy water was everywhere, seemingly shallow but also seemingly immeasurably deep. The monitor lizards were coming closer and closer. Perhaps they were friendly? Leihuo wanted to move over to a nearby tree and hold on to the trunk. But now he couldn’t move of his own free will; he had to be ready to adapt. He said to himself, “What are you worried about? You can’t drown here.” He turned around to look at the main road, but where was it? There was only the boundless marsh. He regretted that he hadn’t asked Uncle Ji if this marsh was the same as the one where they used to spend time. The monitor lizards waded over, but they stayed several dozen feet away from him. They weren’t looking at Leihuo, but at each other. Maybe they were mates. At last, Leihuo figured out what the sound in the water hole was—it was some crocodiles. Their bodies were like hills. Leihuo had never seen such large crocodiles. This seemed like an illusion. This place had become so noisy, and Leihuo’s head was roaring. The two enormous birds in the air were making him nervous. They tried time after time to strike him, but each time they missed. Apparently they couldn’t see well enough to hit their target. Leihuo suddenly had an idea: Was Dad a little like these two birds? This thought made him laugh out loud, and his worries fell away with the laughter.

“Uncle Ji! Uncle Ji . . .” he shouted again.

“I’m in my doorway, watching you . . .” Again, it was the driver who answered.

Leihuo wondered if the driver and Uncle Ji had brought him here simply to “watch him”? Just then, one of the enormous birds swooped down. And this time, it landed on his shoulder, piercing his flesh with its hooklike talons. He screamed, and the bird quickly released him.

“It’s a game, Leihuo. You have to stand your ground!” the driver’s voice sounded again.

How strange—the cut on his shoulder wasn’t bleeding, and before long it didn’t even hurt.

Leihuo saw a mountain rise from the water hole—higher and higher, until it was hiding the sky. If he hadn’t seen the ordinary-size mouth, he would not have believed that this body belonged to a crocodile. How could there be such a large crocodile—the height of a seven- or eight-story building! Leihuo also felt the silt moving under his feet. Perhaps it wasn’t silt, but was this monster’s body. Maybe he’d been standing on its body the whole time? What kind of game could this be? When he felt the cramped empty space, his legs gave way and he fainted.

***

“Leihuo, Leihuo . . .” Uncle Ji was calling him.

Leihuo opened his eyes and saw that he and Uncle Ji were lying under the ancient tree. The land they were lying on was firm, and yet they were surrounded by water.

“Leihuo,” Uncle Ji said.

“Uncle Ji,” Leihuo replied.

“Leihuo,” Uncle Ji said again.

“Uncle Ji,” Leihuo replied once more.

Calling and responding, it was as if they were playing a game. Looking at the steel-blue sky above, Leihuo gasped in admiration. But the two enormous birds had disappeared. Had they gone home? All of a sudden, Leihuo thought that maybe this place was his home. This nameless place was probably his real home, whereas the home in the village was only temporary. Aside from him, which other villager could unwittingly stand on a crocodile’s back for so long? Now, those giants in the water hole had sunk, and nothing remained on the surface of the water. Could it have possibly shown itself just for Leihuo? Of course. The two monitor lizards were still under the trees. They were so fond of each other, as they gazed at each other like fossils. But previously, they had come toward Leihuo, as if their love was directly related to him.

“Who are you?” Uncle Ji asked.

“Your nephew.”

“You’re Leihuo. I forgot just now.”

They sat down. Uncle Ji began speaking easily. “Your dad is calling you. He’s standing at the gate of the herbal pharmacy.”

“Uncle Ji, you have such good hearing.”

Uncle Ji pointed at the crocodile in the water: only a small part of its back was showing. Leihuo thought, This time, it’s showing itself to Uncle Ji.

“Do you like it, Uncle Ji?”

“It’s the one I’m raising,” Uncle Ji said proudly. “Leihuo, do you remember the water lilies? I’ve been raising these treasures for years.”

“But in the marsh over there, I never saw large animals. Over there, you didn’t speak; every day, I guessed what you wanted to say.”

“Don’t you understand yet, Leihuo? Here is simply there. Back then, they were in a deep place under the water lilies.”

“Oh!” Leihuo gasped.

Uncle Ji blew a whistle in the crocodile’s direction, and the crocodile sank. Then he jumped up, and urged Leihuo to leave quickly, too. The sun would soon set, and it would be dangerous here.

“Do we have to walk a long way to get back to the village?” Leihuo asked.

“That isn’t necessary. Old Chai’s vehicle is waiting for us at the side of the road. Old Chai’s job is to transport people; he serves the marsh. If someone is tired of living, he brings him here to play games.”

“But I’m not tired of living.”

“Then why are you unwilling to be a hunter? Don’t pretend.”

Leihuo thought, So this is what this was all about. While they were talking, they reached the road, and sure enough, the three-wheeled vehicle was parked there. The driver had dozed off.

As they approached, he woke up.

“Look at the cut on his shoulder—it’s so wide!” jeered the driver.

Leihuo rubbed the spot that the enormous bird had scratched with its metallic talons, but there was no cut there. Even his clothing hadn’t been damaged. What did this mean?

After Leihuo and Uncle Ji were seated in the back, the vehicle began flying.

“I have to get this wounded person home right away!” Old Chai shouted. “The village air and water will heal him right away. This guy was lucky to run into me.”