My Interpreter Mistranslates Every Threat novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: The Careful Interpreter
Cheng Ao arrives with a leather notebook and a smile that counts what is left out, Gao offers an envelope Lu Wen refuses, and at home his sister holds a bank letter: the loan guarantee is gone.
Cheng Ao was already in the room when Lu Wen arrived on the fourth morning.
He sat in the second chair behind the interpreter's place, with a leather notebook open on his knee and a fountain pen uncapped.
He stood when Lu Wen came in and bowed his head, exactly the right amount.
"Teacher Lu," he said. "I've admired your work for years. I'm only here to assist."
He said the last sentence in Norvane, and his accent was beautiful.
Lu Wen answered in Chinese.
"Thank you. There's water on the sideboard."
Cheng Ao was twenty-nine, with smooth hands and a suit that had been tailored for him.
He smiled at everything and wrote down all of it.
Yan came in with Qiao Min at nine, glanced once at the second chair, and sat down without a word.
He didn't look at Lu Wen at all.
Lu Wen was grateful for that and hated that he was.
The session began.
The Minister asked, through his deputy, for a firm date on the first four berths.
Yan opened the memo.
"Tell him the berths are not a favour," he said in Chinese.
"If the schedule slips again, I will move the grain cargo to Ostrova. He can explain the empty quay to his voters."
Lu Wen felt the pen move behind him.
It scratched once, very gently, and stopped to wait.
He had a clean choice.
He could say the sentence as it was said and let the Minister hear it.
Or he could do what he had done for three days, and let a man with a notebook count it.
He thought of the old man's tie pin and his sister's tuition.
For a moment he could not tell which one he was protecting.
"Mr. Yan asks," he said in Norvane, "that the first four berths be confirmed in writing, so both sides can plan around them."
Behind him the pen scratched, longer this time.
The Minister inclined his head.
"We can confirm the first two this week," he said. "The others when the dredging is complete."
"Good," said Yan in Chinese, and moved on to the next item.
Lu Wen translated the Minister's answer into Chinese with perfect fidelity.
He knew his face was giving nothing away.
He also knew Cheng Ao had underlined something.
At the break Cheng Ao leaned in and spoke quietly, in Norvane, so the Chinese staff around them wouldn't catch it.
"You have a lovely ear," he said. "I've been trying to place the university."
"Haldeck Maritime, one year. Exchange."
"Mm. You don't over-translate, which is rare."
Cheng Ao tapped the notebook with one finger.
"I count differently, Teacher Lu. Most people count what a man says. I count what's left out."
Lu Wen set his cup down.
"Then you must be very busy."
"I'm very patient," said Cheng Ao, and smiled.
In the corridor afterward, Gao Bingcheng fell into step beside him.
Gao was fifty-eight, heavy through the shoulders, in a navy suit with a silver pin in the lapel.
He had a pleasant voice, the voice of a man who had never needed to raise it.
"Teacher Lu. A word."
Lu Wen stopped.
Gao took an envelope from his inside pocket and held it out between two fingers.
"For the careful interpreter," he said. "A small thing. The board appreciates how steady you've been."
Lu Wen did not take it.
"That's very kind, Vice Chairman. I'm paid by the agency."
"Of course. This is only a courtesy."
Gao's smile did not move.
"A board looks after the Group, you know. If Shiliang says anything in that room that worries you, call my office. Day or night."
"I interpret for the person in the room," said Lu Wen.
"Everyone interprets for someone," Gao said gently.
He put the envelope back into his pocket and walked on, unhurried.
Lu Wen stood in the corridor with cold hands.
Yan's car took him home at seven.
The list that night was short, because Lu Wen had cut only two sentences.
Yan listened to it with his eyes on the window and said, "Cheng Ao wrote through most of the morning."
"Yes."
"I noticed. Thank you for going on."
He did not say anything else, and neither did Lu Wen.
The apartment in Yangpu was on the fifth floor with no lift.
Lu Wen climbed the stairs with his shoes in his hand, since his sister slept lightly.
The kitchen light was on.
Lu Ning sat at the table in her nursing school sweatshirt.
She was twenty-two, and she had her chin on her fist and a letter flat in front of her.
"Ge," she said. "Don't be mad. I opened it."
He took the letter.
It was from the bank.
It said that the agency had withdrawn its guarantee on her tuition loan, effective today.
Three hundred and eighty thousand yuan was due in thirty days.
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