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printed in gold: Director of Shanghai Legal Reform Committee . The cards had been delivered to him last night, and he played it now like a trump card, hoping to further bring down the price. Chen being a filial son or not would make no difference to the manager, but his being an official might. However, Chen immediately felt a touch of superstitious uneasiness. It was possibly an ominous sign that he passed out the brand-new business card for the first time in a cemetery office.
    â€œA most filial son, I have to say,” the manager repeated in a loud voice, holding the card in his hand. Several others in the office turned in their direction. “I’m speechless. Trust me. I’ve seen many a man here over the years, but you’re different. A filial son like you will be blessed by Buddha.”
    â€œYou don’t have to say that, Manager Hong. But what if I pay everything up front? Any additional discount?”
    â€œIf you pay everything at once, then I can offer you an additional ten percent discount,” Hong said in earnest. “Both on the maintenance and on the renovation of the tomb. Your satisfaction is guaranteed.”
    Chen nodded. He wasn’t that well-to-do, but doing this could put his mother’s mind at ease—at least on this matter. After all, he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold on to the position printed on the new business card and be able to keep paying the annual fees like before.
    â€œGreat. Then if you are able to take off another ten percent,” Chen said, “may I have copies of the designs to take with me? Back in Shanghai, I’d like to show them to my mother.”
    â€œOf course. When would you want to start the project?”
    â€œI happen to have a week off. So please start as soon as possible.”
    â€œThat’s fine. We can get started on it tomorrow or day after tomorrow. Now, about the payment—”
    Chen took out his credit card. But there was a credit limit on it, so he could only pay half the amount now.
    â€œCan you charge half the amount to my card now, and I’ll pay the remaining half in a day or two?”
    â€œNo problem. For a client like you, no problem at all!” Hong exclaimed, apparently impressed.
    Chen signed the credit slip, and after pocketing the receipt, he got up to leave.
    Outside, there was no one left at the bus stop. He’d stayed too long at the cemetery office and missed the return bus.
    There was no sign of a taxi. The cemetery was too far out of the way. The bus driver had mentioned another bus later in the afternoon, but how long he’d have to wait, he didn’t know. But there was no reason he couldn’t wait, there was nothing pressing back in Shanghai.
    And he ought to start economizing, having just paid a large sum. He didn’t have to pay anything more for the return trip to Shanghai on the cemetery bus.
    He waited for another half hour without a bus showing up.
    â€œThere are no more buses today!” a passing local farmer shouted out to him.
    â€œAre there any other bus stops nearby?”
    â€œFollow this road, turn left at the small creek, and then turn right. In about ten minutes, you might be able to see a bus.”
    â€œThanks!”
    He decided to follow the farmer’s suggestion, though he knew there was no telling how long he’d have to wait at that stop, either.

 
    THREE
    CHEN SET OFF ALONG the trail in the direction the farmer suggested. In the countryside, a passing bus would sometimes stop for a possible passenger waving it down, just like the cemetery bus had on the way from Shanghai.
    But the weather was beginning to change. A drizzle blew over from beyond the hills. He quickened his step, but in only three or four minutes the trail became slippery and treacherous. Chen was trudging along with increasing difficulty, splashing muddy water around. Unlike the road in the Tang dynasty poem, there was no Apricot Blossom