Chapter 22: Written By

Wen Zhe stood at the lectern under the blank screen, with the black notebook held up in both hands.

Four hundred people sat in the dark and waited.

"This is my original outline," he said. "I wrote it by hand last spring."

"I wrote it for my own use, and I kept it close."

"Tonight I want to honour the people who helped me."

A projector clicked. A scan of a page filled the screen behind him.

It was her sergeant, her winter, her handwriting.

Every tail on every word ran long and quick.

A murmur went through the hall.

Wanning stood up.

She did not wait to be asked, and she did not raise her voice.

"That notebook is mine," she said. "I'd like it in the colonel's hands."

Fang rose from her seat in the second row.

"Sit down, Wanning. You've had your scene this week."

"Colonel," said Wanning, and turned to the front.

The colonel stood slowly.

"Mr Wen," he said. "Bring it here."

Wen Zhe did not move.

"Sir, it's private..."

"The commissar and I read ten of her notebooks last week," the colonel said. "I know her hand."

"Bring it here."

Wen Zhe came down the three steps with the notebook against his chest and gave it up.

The colonel opened it under the light of his wife's phone.

"The first pages have been cut," said the commissar, leaning over. "Cleanly. With a blade."

"Page one was my name and the date," Wanning said.

"Page two was a list of the cast I wanted."

"Why would I..." Wen Zhe began.

"Turn to page three, Colonel."

The colonel turned.

"There is a brown ring on the paper," Wanning said, and her voice shook only once.

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