The outdoor hot spring at the Mistveil Resort was ringed with bamboo groves. Thin white steam rose from the water's surface, lit a translucent jade green by the pool's underwater lamps. The landscape lights weren't on yet. Only a few ground lamps lined the bamboo path, casting blurry halos across the stone slabs.
I changed into a two-piece black bikini, a white semi-transparent cover-up over it. Dianzi changed into a two-piece light pink bikini, a white cover-up over it. She took the squirrel from her bag and set it on the stone slab by the pool, facing the bamboo grove.
"After walking around Modu all day, my legs can finally relax." I sank into the water. Steam rose before my eyes. The water covered my collarbones, the temperature just right. Dianzi slid in beside me and leaned close.
"Those two HR women. One changed it to negotiable, the other chewed her pen cap to pieces. Neither would take what we offered."
"They're afraid."
"Afraid that something might drop from the sky. They don't believe anyone can solve their problems for them."
Dianzi lifted her head from the water, droplets sliding down from her bun. "Sister, look at that person."
Along the bamboo path, a father was pushing an enormous one-piece stroller. Ten infants sat side by side inside the cabin, their cries rising and falling. Bouncing off the bamboo grove and half-absorbed by the leaves. The father stopped the stroller by the stone slabs at the edge of the hot spring. One by one, he lifted the children out of the cabin and wiped their faces with the warm water from the pool's edge.
His hands were rough, his knuckles covered in calluses. The backs of his hands bore several red scratch marks from the infants. But when he wiped each child's face, his movements were slow. His thumb skirted around the eyes, around the ears, as if afraid the water might be too hot and scald them.
The children were still crying. He finished wiping each one and placed each one back. A plastic bag hung from the stroller handlebar, stuffed with bottles and diapers. He pushed the stroller onward. The wheels made a dull rolling sound on the stone slabs.
I didn't answer. The edges of my vision began to darken, as if someone were pulling a gray gauze from all four corners toward the center. The water temperature suddenly felt very cold. Cold enough that I could feel the position of every single finger. Her face was several shades paler than before.
Dianzi reached out to touch me. Her lips were moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. Her hand had only stretched halfway when it went limp. Her arm slid into the water, splashing up a small spray. Her whole body sank toward the bottom of the pool.
My consciousness broke off for a moment. The last image I saw was the underwater lamps at the bottom of the pool lighting the water jade green. Dianzi's hair spread out in the water, like a small peach-pink cloud.
Then a blur of gray. A clamor of voices in my ears.
The hot spring poolside erupted into chaos. Someone came running along the bamboo path, their slippers slapping against the stone slabs. Someone was shouting to call an ambulance. The bamboo leaves rustled under trampling feet. Someone crouched down to help press on the chest of another drowning victim, sweat dripping from their chin onto the stone slab.
Everyone was shouting. Everyone was doing something. But no one really got close to the edge of the pool.
Yuan Yewei emerged from behind the bamboo grove. He was holding a small white box. When he saw the two people in the pool, he set the box on the ground, straddled the edge of the pool, and jumped straight into the water. The splash rose half a meter high, flipping the squirrel plush on the stone slab onto its back.
He pulled Dianzi out of the water and laid her flat on the stone slab by the pool. He clasped his hands together over her chest and pressed down hard. After more than a dozen compressions, he bent down, pried open her mouth, and pressed his lips directly to hers, blowing air in. Back and forth, several rounds. Dianzi coughed once. Water gushed from the corner of her mouth. Her breathing returned. He turned her head to one side.
He turned toward me. Half my body was slumped over the edge of the pool. My cover-up was soaked through and clinging to my body. He dragged me up, tore open the front of my cover-up, clasped his hands together, and pressed down hard on my chest. Pressed, released, pressed again. His breathing was heavy, synchronized with the compressions. He bent down, pried open my mouth, and pressed his lips directly to mine, blowing air in.
My eyes opened a crack, then closed again. He kept up the compressions, repeating several rounds until I coughed once. Water spilled from the corner of my mouth. He turned my head to one side. Only after confirming I was breathing on my own did he straighten his back. His knee knocked against the stone slab with a dull thud.
——Of course we knew we would wake up. But he knelt there pressing so earnestly, that desperate panic on his face, it was almost impossible not to laugh.
The two sisters lay side by side on the stone slab beside the pool. Their cover-ups were soaked through and clinging to their bodies. Yuan Yewei crouched beside them. His fingers were still trembling. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows. His forearms were stained with water marks and bamboo leaf debris from the poolside.
The surface of the hot spring slowly returned to calm. The steam gathered again and spread along the water's surface into the bamboo grove. In the distance, the stroller had already gone far. The cries were completely swallowed by the bamboo grove.
He picked up the small white box from the stone beside him, turned it over, looked at it, and set it back down. The box was very clean. Its white surface reflected cold light. He rubbed his hand roughly against his knee. That circle of white on his ring finger was very narrow, the edges neat. Like the mark left behind after a ring had been removed. He glanced down at his own hand, curled his fingers inward, and formed them into a loose fist.
Silence returned to the bamboo grove. The landscape lights came on. Warm yellow light filtered through the bamboo leaves, casting intersecting shadows on the ground. The sound of insects rose again from deep within the grove. At first, only one or two calls. Then more and more.