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It took an entire summer to learn where Ti-Chin-Fú was said to have lived. Camilloff spent that time visiting government offices. According to him, he first had to prove that he was not preparing a conspiracy. Then he swore that the search did not violate the sacred rites.
Only then did Prince Tong authorise the imperial inquiry. Hundreds of scribes worked day and night on the reports. Workers carried enormous piles of documents between the palaces. The replies said that ancient sacred books were still being consulted. Camilloff continued to wait for a result. Camilloff said that the prince sent him sweets to calm his impatience.
While Camilloff searched for the family, I met his wife in secret. We met in a garden pavilion called Discreet Repose. There was a stream, bamboo walls and a white divan there. At the end of August, the embassy officials worked all morning. The General's wife was called Vladimira and had been born near Nidji-Novogorod. Vladimira had been brought up by an aunt who admired Rousseau and read Faublas. She dreamt of living in Paris and asked for stories about courtesans and Dumas. At our meetings, Vladimira wore the clothes of a Chinese lady.
Vladimira was Camilloff's wife, and we were having an adulterous affair. I slowly kissed her arms. Then we would lie embracing and kiss on the divan. Above us, a text from the Sacred Book of Li-Nun spoke about the duties of wives. Neither of us could read Chinese. In the silence, our kisses began again.
One morning, Camilloff entered the chancellery looking very pleased. He said that Prince Tong had given him news of Ti-Chin-Fú. According to the report, a rich mandarin with that name had lived in Tien-Hó. He had died suddenly, and his descendants lived in poverty in a miserable house. However, the report had not come from the government offices. An astrologer claimed to have read the information in the stars over twenty nights. 'He must be your man!' Camilloff exclaimed. Meriskoff repeated the same conclusion.
I only thought that he might be the right man. The story still did not prove that this was the family I was seeking. I did not want to cross distant regions in a monotonous caravan. Since arriving in Peking, I had not seen the phantom or the paper kite. My conscience seemed like a sleeping dove. I told myself that the journey was already making amends for the harm I had done. I convinced myself that Ti-Chin-Fú had been appeased and had disappeared for ever. Why should I not stay in Peking? I wanted sweet food, pleasant walks and amorous meetings with Vladimira. Camilloff, however, was already opening the map to plan the journey.
On the map, Camilloff showed me the long route to Tien-Hó. I was to travel through Ni-ku-hé and along the Pei-Hó to My-yun. Then I would ride to Ché-hia and cross the Great Wall. After resting at Ku-pi-hó, I would reach Tien-Hó in two days. 'Do you want to leave tomorrow?' Camilloff asked. 'Tomorrow,' I replied reluctantly.
That night, Meriskoff played cards with three officers, and Camilloff slept. Vladimira sat at the piano and looked at me. 'The bird flies far away and does not return,' she sang. Her eyes were bright and moist. 'The bird will return to its nest,' I murmured. I moved away to hide a tear. 'Scoundrel Ti-Chin-Fú! This is your fault!' I muttered.
The next day, I left for Tien-Hó with Sá-Tó, my respectful interpreter. The caravan included a line of carts, two Cossacks and many porters. We travelled beside the sacred gardens of the Temple of Confucius. It was the end of autumn, and the leaves were already yellow.
Slow, sad chants came from the sacred pavilions. In my eyes, enormous snakes looked like ancient gods, slowed by the cold. Very old Buddhists sat motionless beneath the sycamores. I imagined that they were awaiting the perfection of Nirvana. I was thinking of the two tears I had seen in Vladimira's green eyes.