"Silly girl," he touched her head, smiling, a smile Jiang Li had never seen on him, calm as if he was relieved of a great burden, letting go of many things. He said, "How could you kill me? It's you who saved me."
Jiang Li frowned.
"Last time I was upset, you sang a song for me. This time you're crying, so let me sing an opera for you, shall we?" He coaxed her like a man indulging his beloved girl, with so much pampering, tenderness, almost as if he was taking and giving at will.
Jiang Li looked at him, but before she could speak, he laid his head on her lap and slowly, slowly began to sing.
"In a fleeting moment, past affections are all forgotten, bitterness and hardship saturating the tears that wet the clothes."
His voice was soft, echoing in the cave, different from that of actors on stage, not as agitated but gentle, narrating as if telling a story. And like the audience who gets the deepest into the play, the joys and sorrows scattered into the night.
