Chapter 6: Kitchen Floor

Xiao Chen did not answer the question.

He got up before the light and showered in cold water.

Then he stood in the kitchen with a pot of rice and nothing to say.

When Shen Yan came out of the spare room at eight, he was wearing Xiao Chen's old grey sweater and a very careful expression.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning."

"I can make breakfast. I worked a grill for six months. I'm good with an egg."

"Sit down. I have questions."

Shen Yan sat at the small table and folded his hands, and the dimple appeared against his will.

It was the first real smile Xiao Chen had seen on him.

It did something unwelcome to his chest.

"Tell me about the house on Cedar Hill," he said, and put a notepad between them.

"Who lived in it, who worked in it, who watched you take the strips?"

"The housekeeper handed them to me with my tea. Every day, at seven." Shen Yan thought. "My stepmother checked the cup sometimes."

"Did Shen Rui ever go into your room?"

"My stepbrother?" Shen Yan wrinkled his nose. "He was always polite. He brought me books. He said I should rest more, that I looked pale."

"Pale."

"I thought he was being kind."

Xiao Chen wrote the word down and underlined it twice.

"Your father's secretary. Is he still in the house?"

"The old secretary? He retired the week they took Father away. He lives in the east district."

Shen Yan's voice softened.

"He taught me to play chess. He sent me one letter, and I never answered it, because I had no address."

"Do you remember his street?"

"I can find it."

"Good. That is the first thing we do after this week."

Shen Yan nodded, then went still.

His fingers tightened on the table edge, and his nostrils flared.

"Oh," he said, small and surprised. "It's coming again. It's, it's so fast this time."

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