Twelve Bizarre Individuals

After I pulled the woman out of the car window, we both surfaced. At that moment, I noticed that she was actually a very good swimmer, moving with agility and skill—she hardly needed my help at all and could swim to the bank on her own.

Moreover, she had a slim figure, and I couldn't help but feel fortunate—if she'd been a larger woman, pulling her through the shattered window would have been no easy feat.

I climbed ashore quickly, but the woman seemed embarrassed and hesitated to come up. At first, I thought she was unable to climb up, so I reached out and said, “Do you need a hand? I can pull you up.”

She replied in standard Mandarin, “Thank you for saving me just now. Could you turn around, please?” Judging by her accent, she was from out of town.

I froze for a moment, then understood her meaning—her skirt was gone below the waist. Even in the hazy moonlight, she felt awkward. So I took off my jacket, placed it in front of her, and then turned my back.

She then climbed up, wrapping my jacket around her waist. The sight was both comical and alluring, stirring the imagination.

I asked, “Should we call the police?” She replied, “No need.” Only then did I realize that, in my haste, my second-hand Nokia had gotten soaked and was out of commission—so even if I wanted to call the police, it would be impossible.

I said, “May I know your name? Where do you intend to go? Would you like to come to my place and change into dry clothes?” After all, it was already autumn, and with our clothes drenched, a cold night wind could easily make one sick.

She answered, “Thank you, brother. Your kindness goes beyond words—where do you live?” Even in the dim moonlight, I could see her features were beautiful. Especially with my jacket wrapped around her waist and her long legs exposed, the image was hard to forget.

She noticed my gaze lingered on her, and her expression grew uneasy. I quickly looked away and said, “My house is just up ahead in the village—ten minutes’ walk at most.”

She replied, “Then I’ll have to trouble you.” I said, “No trouble at all!” Secretly, I thought to myself that I had nearly lost my life rescuing her.

I pushed my bicycle, leading the way, and she followed behind. I was full of curiosity about this woman and asked, “Where are you from? How did you end up here? And that car that forced you off the road—didn’t even stop to call for help. Outrageous.”

She replied, “My surname is Ye. I came here as a tourist, but I got lost and ended up on this village road. I never thought that driver would be so ruthless... If you hadn’t risked yourself to save me, I surely wouldn’t have made it. By the way, what should I call you?”

Judging by her age, she was seven or eight years older than me. I said, “My name is Li Shuifeng. You can call me Xiao Li, or Xiao Feng.”

She said, “Then I’ll call you Xiao Feng. Since I’m older, if you don’t mind, you can call me Sister Ye.”

After my release from prison, I had been so lonely and insecure—now, a beautiful woman was willing to let me call her sister. Of course I was delighted. “Sister Ye, let’s go to my place.”

She hesitated. “Xiao Feng, is there anyone else at your house? I look rather embarrassing like this!”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, Sister Ye. I live alone in that house.”

On the way, I asked whether she knew the person who ran her off the road in that BMW. She didn’t answer, probably having her own concerns and not wanting to share them.

Everyone has their secrets—just as I don't want others to know I’ve been in prison—so I wouldn’t press her for answers.

I led Sister Ye into the village. Fortunately, it was late at night and we encountered no one else, except for a few mongrel dogs aroused by our passing, their barking chaotic but quickly fading.

I opened the door and turned on the lights. Only then did I see how beautiful she was—like a film star from Hong Kong, standing tall at about one seventy, graceful and poised.

Suddenly, I noticed a fresh trickle of blood running down her pale thigh. I guessed she’d been cut by glass when I pulled her through the window. I said instinctively, “Your leg is bleeding. I’ll get you a bandage.”

There weren’t usually any bandages in the house, but the last time I came to clear the weeds at Granny Li’s grave, I’d brought some in case the sharp grass cut my fingers.

I fetched a bandage and bent down to help, but she immediately stepped back, her face flushed. “No need, I can do it myself.”

Only then did I remember—she was only wearing my jacket below the waist and was embarrassed I might catch a glimpse of something I shouldn't.

The autumn night was already cold, especially after swimming ashore from the reservoir, our clothes soaked through. We had to change into something dry as soon as possible.

After Granny Li died, Jin Yulian had taken care of the aftermath, throwing out all the old bedding. Sister Ye looked at me, embarrassed. “Do you have any clean clothes I could wear?”

I opened the wardrobe, only to be greeted by a musty stench. It had been a long time since anyone stayed here, and some old clothes had been chewed by mice. No wonder it smelled awful.

I looked at Sister Ye, embarrassed. “Sorry—the mice have made a nest in there!” Her face, previously heavy with sorrow, softened into a wry smile when she saw the chewed up clothes.

I thought for a moment, then opened a camphor chest. A fresh scent of camphor washed over us. The chest was sturdy and unscathed by mice. On top was a set of my old clothes, and as I prepared to hand them to her, I discovered, underneath, what seemed to be women’s clothing.

Curious, I checked—indeed, there was a clean set of women’s clothes. Whose could they be? The style was youthful—not something Granny Li would wear. Could they belong to Jin Yulian? If so, she must have stayed here for a while after I was sent to prison. But why? Dealing with Granny Li’s affairs wouldn’t have taken long, and she had no reason to leave her own clothes in my chest.

But now wasn’t the time for such questions. Dry clothes were most important, or we’d catch a cold.

I handed the clothes to Sister Ye. “Will these do?” She looked surprised. “Perfect, thank you.” I could tell she was curious too, but she didn’t ask. After giving her the clothes, I hurried to change out of my own wet things—the cold was biting.

Sister Ye, with a woman’s modesty, took the clothes and slipped into the bedroom to change.

Soon, she emerged dressed in the set. A beautiful, slender woman looks good in anything.

I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on her chest—the outfit’s neckline was a bit low, and she wore nothing underneath. The pale curve of her bosom was dazzling, intoxicating.