‘I know,’ he said, realizing that might be another reason for this phone call, and that he was in no position to reveal anything about it. ‘Comrade Secretary Zhao’s been bothered with the terrible air quality in Beijing. So it’s just like a fresh air vacation for him.’

‘Yes, a senior Party leader like Zhao deserves a much-needed break from the smog in the capital. By the way,’ Li switched the topic again, ‘where are you now? A lot of noise in the background.’

‘I’m … Hold on for one minute …’

A train attendant in a light blue uniform with a white embroidered apron was coming over, pushing a screeching cart full of well-known Wuxi local products across the aisle, hawking in a sweet voice. He covered the phone with his hand. No need for him to buy anything on the train. In about half an hour he would be back in Shanghai.

‘Anything you would like to have, sir?’ she said at a closer distance, smiling with engaging dimples – like the cardamom buds in early spring in a Tang poem – and offering him a package of dried noodlefish. ‘Special product of Tai Lake, Wuxi. Excellent for making silver and gold omelet.’

With him being the only passenger in the first-class car, he found it hard not to buy something from her, but he pushed back the package of dried noodlefish. That once again reminded him of what Shanshan had said to him at their first meeting: even though the water quality of Tai Lake was said to have improved, the fish still wasn’t worth eating. He failed to recall, however, whether he had tasted the noodlefish together with her by the lake.

‘For yourself or for your people in Shanghai,’ the young attendant said, smiling. ‘Anything you like.’

He picked up a dainty bamboo basket of fried gluten balls, two boxes of steaks braised in Wuxi style, and a small box of dried tofu cubes in special soy sauce. Back in Shanghai, he would have the Wuxi specials delivered to his mother. In his childhood, his parents had used to bring back home these Wuxi products. He felt guilty about not having visited her for more than a week.

He paid the attendant for the purchases and she put them in a large white plastic gift bag for him.

‘Chief Inspector Chen?’ Li’s voice came over the phone again.

‘Sorry, Party Secretary Li. A train attendant was pushing the food cart over to me. I have just bought some Wuxi snacks for my mother.’

‘What a filial son!’ Li exclaimed. ‘So you’re making the trip to Wuxi?’

‘It’s just part of the assignment for Zhao. But I’m anything but a filial son, leaving her all alone in Shanghai, and I’m going to have the Wuxi dried tofu cubes for myself.’

‘Enjoy the trip, and enjoy the Wuxi snack too. If your mother needs help, let us know. And whenever you are not that busy by the lake, give some help to your colleagues in Shanghai.’