My Interpreter Mistranslates Every Threat novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The List

Yan admits he has understood every word since day one, refuses to report him, and asks for the one thing he wants, a nightly list of every cruelty Lu Wen cut; then the agency calls to say a second interpreter, asked for by the vice chairman, starts tomorrow.

Lu Wen did the only thing his training allowed.

He stood still and kept his face blank, because a blank face was the first thing an interpreter learned.

"I'm sorry," he said in Chinese. "I don't follow, Mr. Yan."

"You followed all of it," said Yan.

He had switched back to Chinese, and his voice was as flat as it was in the boardroom.

The lift went on falling.

"I lived in Haldeck from nineteen to twenty-two," Yan said.

"My grandfather sent me to learn the terminal from the bottom. I learned the language from the dockers and told nobody.

People say useful things in front of a man who can't follow."

Lu Wen's mouth had gone dry.

"Then you heard everything I did on the first day."

"I heard seven changes on the first day and thirteen on the second," said Yan. "Today there was the son."

"Mr. Yan, I will resign tonight. I'll write to the agency and say I was unwell."

"Resign to whom?" Yan asked. "The agency would ask why."

"Then I'll say whatever you want me to say," said Lu Wen.

"I want you to tell me why you did it," said Yan.

Lu Wen looked at the floor numbers because it was easier than looking at him.

"Because the Minister is sixty-three years old," he said. "On the first morning he asked whether the tea was too strong for me."

Yan said nothing.

"Nobody had asked me that in a meeting in six years," Lu Wen said.

Lu Wen kept his eyes on the numbers.

"I couldn't make him walk out because of a sentence in a memo. I wasn't hired to be the one who does that."

"You were hired to say what I say," said Yan.

"Yes. I know. I'm in breach, and you can ruin me."

The lift reached the lobby, and the doors opened on marble and a crowd of people with lanyards.

Yan stepped across the beam and held the door with his shoulder.

He did not look angry.

He looked unsure what to do with what he had just learned.

"On the first day I said I was tired," he said. "You told them that one exactly."

"That one wasn't a threat."

"No," said Yan. "It wasn't."

He let the door go.

"My car is on the east side at seven tonight. You'll ride with me."

He kept his hand on the door a moment longer.

"You will tell me every sentence you cut, what it said, and what you gave him instead."

"Is that a condition?"

"It's a request," said Yan. "I'm not used to making them, so you'll have to forgive the tone."

He walked off toward the executive corridor before Lu Wen could answer.

At seven, the car was a black sedan with a driver who stared at the road and was paid not to hear.

Yan sat at the far end of the back seat with the memo on his knee and no pen.

"Begin," he said.

Lu Wen took out his notes, cleared his throat, and began.

"At ten forty, you said the Minister's father had been dead weight to his country. I said Mr. Yan respects the previous generation."

"I did say that," said Yan.

Lu Wen turned a page.

On the seat between them their hands lay a few inches apart, and neither of them moved his.

"At eleven fifteen, you said Norvane had two weeks before the harbour sank. I said Mr. Yan believes the harbour needs urgent investment."

"Next," said Yan.

"At two, you said you would not take any more of the Minister's wine. I said you were grateful for the hospitality."

Something happened at the corner of Yan's mouth.

It was gone before Lu Wen could be certain.

They went through all of it, nineteen items in forty minutes, and Yan interrupted only to ask for the exact words.

When Lu Wen reached the son, he gave it in full, in both languages, and Yan closed his eyes.

"Say the Norvane again."

Lu Wen said it again.

"That is what I sound like?" Yan asked.

"That is what the memo sounds like."

"It's my voice."

"It's your voice," Lu Wen agreed carefully. "I don't think it's your sentence."

Yan opened his eyes and looked at him for a long time.

The car stopped outside a grey apartment block in Yangpu, and the driver got out to open the door.

"Same time tomorrow," Yan said. "Same list. You'll keep doing it, Mr. Lu."

"Keep doing what?"

"What you've been doing. Just tell me afterwards."

Lu Wen stood on the pavement and watched the taillights go.

His phone buzzed in his hand.

It was the agency boss, who never called after six.

"Lu Wen, good news," the agency boss said, warm and quick. "The Group's board has asked for a second interpreter on the Haldeck talks."

"A second one?" Lu Wen asked.

"A very exact young man," said the agency boss.

"Cheng Ao starts tomorrow, and he'll sit at your elbow all day."

"Who asked for him?"

"Vice Chairman Gao's office," said the agency boss. "By name."

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