Chapter 325: <translated title>

By ten-something, she had already checked the footers on those three printed pages for the third time. The print time difference between page two and page three was four minutes. All three pages sat in order behind her own page, held together with a paper clip. The new case intake register lay open on the table by the window, flipped to that page, and the line under firm affairs was still blank.

Downstairs, a pot was boiling. The smell of scallion oil climbed up the stairs. Someone downstairs called out, "Two bowls, one without cilantro."

When the phone rang, her hand was still pressing down the papers.

An unfamiliar number. Eleven digits. Not anywhere in the notebook.

"Hello—"

The other end was wind first, then two rooster crows, far then near, and then someone spoke, the voice loud, like it was coming through a layer of cotton.

"Hello. Do you people answer questions there?"

"Yes." She picked up her pen. "Who am I speaking with?"

"My surname's Chai."

Cold air squeezed through the window gap and lifted a corner of the paper. She reached out and pressed it back down.

"Auntie Chai, go ahead."

The other end paused for a moment.

"I've got a piece of paper here," the old woman said. "The factory gave it to me."

"When did they give it to you?"

"A few days back." The old woman said, "They came twice. First time they just asked, said if I made up my mind, I sign, and the money's paid the same day. I said I needed to ask someone. He said ask who? There's only a few of you families left. Second time he put the paper on my table and left."

"What's written on the paper?"

"I can't read."

"Did anyone read it to you?"

"No." The old woman said, "He pointed at a box and said, sign here."

She wrote these lines down, stroke by stroke. When she finished, she lowered her head and read them over before asking the next question.

"What do you want to ask?"

"I just want to ask one thing." The old woman said, "If I sign it, does that mean I can't sue later?"

Her pen stopped on the paper.

Downstairs, the roll-up shutter was pushed up a notch. The metal clanged once, then dropped back down. She waited until that sound passed before speaking.

"Auntie Chai, I've never seen this paper." She said, "I can't tell you over the phone what clauses are on it. Anything I said would be a guess."

"Oh." The old woman responded, and after a moment added, "He didn't read it either."

The other end went quiet for a bit, the wind scattering the words slightly.

"Are you from the factory?"

She set the pen down.

"No." She said, "My surname is Shen. I work above the noodle shop. All we've got here is one long table with a few notebooks spread on it, nothing else. You come up, you see the long table—that's us."

"Above the noodle shop." The old woman repeated after her. "They said they'd give me money. If you're here to talk about that too, I won't come."

"I won't talk about that." She said, "I'll read the paper. Whatever's written on it, that's what I'll read."

"Then read it."

"That won't work." She said, "I can't read it over the phone. I don't have your paper in my hands. If I read something, it'd be someone else's paper."

The other end let out a long breath, like setting something down, or like not quite setting it down yet.

"Don't sign it yet."

The old woman repeated after her: "Don't sign it yet." She said it very slowly.

"Bring it here." She said, "I'll read it to you word by word. When I'm done, you make your own decision—whether to sign is your business, I won't decide for you."

"Bring it." The old woman repeated the word, as if weighing how heavy it was. "Where do I bring it to?"

"Are you in Qingshi Village?"

"I am."

"There's a bus that comes into the city from your town at six-forty in the morning." She said, "Gets in after nine. Get off and ask anyone where Zhengping Noodle House is—it's right above it. Come in and say you're looking for Lawyer Shen."

"Lawyer Shen." The old woman repeated, and after she'd said it, said it again. "Does asking questions cost money?"

"It won't cost you anything right now. If anything ever does cost money, I'll tell you first, and it only happens if you say yes."

"Is it just you at home?"

"The child lives with me." The old woman said, "His parents are in Guangdong."

"How old is the child?"

"Eight."

"Then bring the child." She said, "If he's home alone, you'll worry even more."

"Bring him?" The old woman paused. "He gets carsick."

"Bring him anyway." She said, "I'll pour him some water when he gets here."

The other end didn't speak. Only wind.

"Then don't talk too fast." The old woman said, "My ears—the left one doesn't work."

"I'll speak more slowly." She raised her voice. "The eleventh. Morning. I'll be here. When you arrive, call this number first and I'll come down to meet you. If you can't read the sign downstairs, don't worry about it. Just look for the noodle shop."

"I can't read signs."

"Not being able to read is fine." She said, "You'll recognize the smell of scallion oil."

The other end let out a short laugh, and there was still a breath that hadn't quite smoothed out after it.

"How did you get this number?"

"A young man." The old woman said, "On a bike, wearing a hat. He punched it in for me. Punched it once and showed me, then I did it myself once more."

"What's his name?"

"I didn't ask."

"Where was his number written?"

"Written right here." There was the sound of cloth wiping over plastic on the other end. "Says 'City Question-Asking.'"

She wrote this down too, and copied the eleven-digit number from the screen onto the corner of the page. When she finished, she checked it against the screen once more.

"Then I'll come on the eleventh." The old woman said.

"Alright."

"I can't read." The old woman said, "Read slowly."

She opened her mouth, but the line had already gone dead.

She put the phone down. On the paper, the line was written up to "Surname: Chai," with the rest left blank.

She flipped the notebook to the half page for Qingshi Village. The entry on January 7th ended with "surname box left blank," followed by her note from that day: "Suspected to be the same person." She set her pen tip to that box and wrote "Chai," then after "suspected to be the same person" added "i.e."

The document room door opened. Lu Jibai came out with a stack of papers in his hands, straightening them as he walked.

"Who was that?"

"Qingshi Village." She said, "The number Brother Ma gave out."

He set the papers down and stood by the desk.

"What did she ask?"

"Whether she can't sue after she signs."

"What did you answer?"

"I said I've never seen the paper and didn't dare say anything over the phone."

"Correct." He said.

"I told her to come on the eleventh and bring the paper."

He nodded, squaring the papers edge to edge.

"Did she ask anything else?"

"She asked if I was from the factory." She said, "She said, if you're here to talk about that too, I won't come."

His hand paused for a second, then went back to straightening.

"She didn't ask about money?"

"Didn't mention it once."

"She didn't ask who gave her the number either." He said, "The first thing she asked was whether she could still sue."

She didn't respond to that. She looked over the words in the notebook.

"She's hard of hearing." She said, "I have to raise my voice. The child's eight, gets carsick, parents in Guangdong."

"On the eleventh, how many are coming?"

"Two."

"Coming from her town, she'll have to walk a bit after getting off the bus." He said, "There are street vendors on that road in the morning. Ask for a restaurant and anyone can point the way."

"I'll go down and meet her."

He set the neatened papers down.

She picked up her phone, typed a line, deleted half a sentence, and sent the remaining line: That woman called.

Less than half a minute later, a voice message came back. The wind was loud, and a car passed in the middle.

"Good that she called." Ma Jianjun said, "I won't ask anything else."

She laid the phone face-down on the desk.

[Thud. A surname. Doesn't count as a name.]

She looked at that line, then put the pen back in the holder.

She started a fresh sheet of paper and wrote from top to bottom: When the paper arrived, who delivered it, the deliverer's surname, whether it was read aloud; the child's age, where the child's parents are; what documents the hospital gave.

"When she comes on the eleventh, read the paper first." Lu Jibai said, "Don't start with the illness."

"I know. If she brings it up herself, I'll listen."

"If she talks, write down her exact words. Don't add a single word for her." He said, "For the child's matters, the parents have to sign the power of attorney."

"I'll ask where the parents are first." She tapped the pen on the paper. "If she won't say, we set that aside for now."

Two minutes before three, footsteps sounded on the stairs. They weren't He Xiufen's steps. Li Huilan pushed the door open, an old briefcase under her arm and a roll of paper in her hand.

"The arbitration award is here."

She set the roll on the table and pulled out the top document, flipping to the middle page. She read line by line: eleven months, calculated according to the work-hours logbook, not a cent less. All claims supported.

"The other side admitted to eleven months." Li Huilan said, "They didn't admit the last three hundred in meal subsidies, and they didn't give in on it either. It's written in the award."

"Fifteen days." Shen Zhixia said.

"Correct. From the day he receives the award, he has fifteen days to file suit in court. If that period passes and he hasn't sued, this paper takes effect. If he still won't pay, you take this paper and apply for enforcement."

"He's picking it up today?"

"I called him. He said he'd come tomorrow." Li Huilan said, "He wants to read it through himself before signing for it. He also asked when the money would arrive. I said this paper doesn't say one word about when the money arrives."

Shen Zhixia flipped the original to the last page and looked at the signature block, looked at the red seal. When she finished, she added a line in the margin: January 8th, 15:10, the original arbitration award was delivered to the firm. I was present. She signed her name and the date.

Li Huilan watched her write.

"That call this morning."

"Qingshi Village." Shen Zhixia said, "An old woman."

"Surname?"

"Chai."

"She's coming alone?"

"With her grandchild." She said, "The eleventh."

Li Huilan put the award back in the file and pressed it flat.

"Old people from the villages, when they come in, are often afraid to sit down." She said, "Pull the chair out for her first."

"Noted."

"She said she can't read?"

"She said it three times."

"Then when you read, ask her after every sentence whether she understands." Li Huilan said, "Don't ask 'do you understand?' She'll always answer that she does."

"Ask what, then?"

"Ask 'what did this sentence say?'" Li Huilan said, "If she can't answer, read it again. After each clause, ask her 'do you want this clause to count?' If she wants it to count, mark it with your pen. If she asks 'what happens if I don't mark it,' tell her the truth."

"What if she doesn't mark it?"

"Not marking is fine too." Li Huilan said, "It's her paper. She decides. Our job is only to show her what's on it."

She picked up her briefcase and walked to the door, then turned back.

"Slow doesn't mean dragging the reading out." She said, "When you reach the sentence she'd ask about herself, pause."

"Which sentence?"

"The one she called to ask about."

The door closed.

She sat back down and flipped the notebook to the Qingshi Village half page. There was still a blank strip at the bottom. She copied the words down exactly as they'd been said: Sign it, then can't sue?

When she finished, she added a line below: Eleventh, morning. Read. When I reach this sentence, pause.

Outside the window, half the sky had gone dark. Someone downstairs was moving things, metal clanging twice. She waited for the sound to stop, then closed the notebook.