Since that afternoon, Song Yu hadn’t seen Pei Zhi again.
She had heard from Takwar that he had only shown up briefly that day—no one knew what he had come back for—before setting off once more on his quest to track down the Apotara Tribe.
Song Yu couldn’t fathom what he meant by leaving her with that one earring. The month she had promised Kasi had flown by, and she had gathered more than enough material to write her script.
The helicopter’s rotors thrummed noisily as flocks of birds scattered in all directions.
Kasi bounded onto the aircraft, her delight plain as day on her face.
A gust of wind whipped Song Yu’s hair into her eyes.
She brushed the stray strands behind her ear, her fingertip grazing the cool metal of the six-pointed star earring.
The helicopter lifted off, slicing through the air above an endless sea of green and sending waves rippling through the treetops below.
Song Yu gazed out at the thick blanket of verdure, her lashes slowly drifting downward. Her patience was wearing thin.
After all, even waiting had its limits.
Xu Zhouxu had stayed in São Paulo this whole time instead of heading back home. He had rented a villa for himself there.
It was a classic Western-style house, with crisp white exterior walls, plenty of rooms, and a sprawling garden where the lawn was impeccably manicured.
Song Yu had simply moved in with Kasi.
On their second morning in São Paulo, the air was heavy with dampness from the dawn mist.
The housekeeper had already laid out breakfast. Song Yu sat at the dining table, covered in a spotless white cloth, and ate her meal leisurely with knife and fork.
Xu Zhouxu came back from outside, reeking of smoke and booze. He had been out all night—who knew where—and still buzzed with energy come morning.
Kasi was the last to rise. She lived on the ground floor and didn’t bother with the front door; instead, she clambered through her bedroom window and padded barefoot into the garden.
In the rainy season, the garden stayed perpetually sodden, around the clock.
Kasi’s feet sank into the earth, a mix of mud and fresh grass clippings. She took in the housekeeper’s handiwork before plucking a bunch of purple jasmine and tying them into a small cluster with slender twigs.
The villa’s housekeeper was a stout Portuguese woman in her forties or fifties, hefty and loud-voiced.
When she spotted Kasi traipsing barefoot into the living room and tracking mud across the floor, she planted her hands on her hips and let loose a tirade.
Kasi sidestepped her, catching only bits and pieces but enough to know she was the target of the rage.
She just shrugged it off with a grin and flipped the bird without a second thought.
No one knew where she had picked up that crude gesture, but she had mastered it quickly enough.
The housekeeper only cursed louder.
“Hey, she yells louder than Havana,” Kasi said, sidling up to Song Yu. She tucked the purple jasmine into Song Yu’s hair, then yanked out a chair with a harsh screech and plopped down.
She grabbed an untouched plate from the table and sat cross-legged on the floor to eat.
Kasi still clung to her tribe’s habit of eating on the ground. Anything that put distance between her and the earth felt instinctively wrong.
Song Yu didn’t react, letting her do as she pleased.
Xu Zhouxu, though, looked uncomfortable. “This won’t do. Her eating like that makes us look like we’re mistreating her.” He set down his utensils, hauled Kasi up, and plunked her back in the chair.
Kasi scowled, squirming on the seat, clearly unused to it.
She wolfed down the toast and fried eggs in no time. As she reached for seconds, Song Yu pulled the plate away.
“No more.”
Kasi tilted her head, momentarily stunned.
“From now on, no food for you here. You’ll have to fend for yourself.” Song Yu’s tone was flat and final. She nodded to the housekeeper, who promptly cleared away Kasi’s place setting.
The housekeeper shot Kasi a gleeful eye-roll.
“Isn’t that a bit harsh? You brought her out here—surely some hospitality is in order,” Xu Zhouxu chimed in. “We don’t want anyone saying us Chinese are stingy.”
Song Yu turned to him. “We’re all leaving eventually. If Kasi wants to survive in São Paulo, she has to learn the rules of this world.”
Kasi couldn’t follow their conversation, but she got the gist: no more food from Song Yu.
She shot to her feet in a huff, leaned over the table, yanked the purple jasmine from Song Yu’s hair, and chucked it out the window.
With an indignant “Hmph!”, she stormed out.
Kasi didn’t come back all day.
Song Yu lounged on the living room sofa, working on her script, unperturbed.
They were in São Paulo’s affluent neighborhood, where the security was top-notch. No need to worry about Kasi coming home missing any limbs.
In the evening, barking echoed from afar.
Kasi trudged back with a golden retriever slung over her shoulder—clearly someone’s pet—its legs bound, thrashing wildly.
Song Yu jumped. “Where did you get that dog?”
“You wouldn’t feed me, so I went hunting,” Kasi said smugly. “There aren’t as many animals here as in the rainforest, but they’re way dumber. Caught this one easy.”
“…”
It took Song Yu a Herculean effort to return the dog to its owners.
After endless apologies, they agreed not to call the cops.
When she got home, Kasi was still sulking, barefoot and squatting against the sofa.
“Why give back the prey I caught?” she demanded bitterly.
Song Yu pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the urge to throttle the troublesome girl.
“That wasn’t wild game—it was someone’s property.”
She enunciated each word, laying down the law. “In the city, all animals belong to someone. You can’t hunt even strays.”
Everyone here was bound by morals; survival of the fittest didn’t apply.
Kasi pressed her lips together, craning her neck defiantly as she stared at Song Yu.
After a long moment, she finally bowed her head and slunk off to her room, seemingly resigned to the difference.
Song Yu eyed the closed door and shook her head helplessly.
By now, night had fallen deep. A cool breeze slipped through the floor-to-ceiling windows, fluttering the floral curtains.
Kasi was like a drop of foreign blood triggering a fierce rejection in their world.
Song Yu drew plenty of inspiration from her. That night, she wrote her script straight through till dawn.
In the days that followed, Song Yu rarely caught sight of Kasi.
The girl left early each morning and returned late, heaven knew what she was up to.
Song Yu’s script drew initial inspiration from the tribe and Kasi, but as the story progressed, the characters developed their own paths. There was no need to revolve around Kasi, so Song Yu didn’t bother keeping tabs.
Though she had said they would only provide lodging, Song Yu still left money in a glass dish by the entryway. Sometimes Kasi took it, and in exchange, the dish would fill up with odd trinkets.
A pineapple here, a necklace of animal bones there, or a basket brimming with mushrooms—who knew where she scavenged them.
After pulling nearly a month of all-nighters, Song Yu finally finished the script—all but the ending.
She always wrote quickly and rarely revised; the emotions captured first were the truest.
With the script done, it was time for her to go home.
Though inspired by Kasi and her tribe, the story’s essence lay in things closer to home, back in her own country.
Not in traipsing across half the globe to spotlight the quirks of another world.
Like someone braving the rainy season, threading through that vast green ocean just to chase echoes of his ancestors.
Song Yu’s thoughts drifted there, her lashes lowering.
Unthinkingly, she touched the earring dangling from her ear, as if it still held the warmth of his skin.
The more she dwelled on it, the angrier she got. What a schemer he was.
Leaving her this token to haunt her thoughts while he vanished without a trace.
Before leaving São Paulo, Xu Zhouxu threw a lavish poolside party at the villa.
South Americans were nothing if not warm and welcoming. In just two short months, he had amassed a circle of local friends.
The rooftop infinity pool was awash with men and women lost in drink and desire—same as anywhere, really.
Song Yu had donned an elegant gown: a sleek black halter dress in shimmering silk that hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating her slender waist. Her hair was styled impeccably, and a teardrop diamond necklace graced her neck—clearly exorbitantly priced.
In such circles, these were the real keys to the kingdom.
She usually navigated them with ease, but tonight her tolerance wore off unusually fast.
Men kept sidling up, all polished elite types in crisp double-breasted suits, hair slicked back with not a strand out of place.
They spouted opinions nonstop—economics, politics—each vying to showcase their brilliance in what they imagined was subtle fashion.
Song Yu retreated to the second-floor terrace. After fending off a young American who worked on Wall Street, she set down her wineglass and slipped into the garden for some air.
The house blazed with light, making the garden shadows seem all the deeper.
In the corner beneath a palm tree crouched a small dark shape: Kasi, whom no one had seen all evening.
She wore a white dress, her black hair piled high—a concession to the housekeeper’s insistence, lest she embarrass them in front of guests.
The skirt was now a rumpled, dirt-streaked mess from sitting on the ground.
Barefoot as ever, she idly shredded the leaves of a nearby purple jasmine bush. If the housekeeper saw, there’d be hell to pay.
“Keep that up and it’ll go bald,” Song Yu said, coming to the plant’s rescue.
Kasi recognized her voice and halted.
Ever since Song Yu had scolded her over the golden retriever incident, the little girl had been sulking with her nonstop.
Song Yu wasn’t the type to coax anyone, so she simply let her stew in it.
Kasi pinched the last leaf in her hand, her fingernails stained green with sap.
“Are you leaving?” she asked suddenly after a long silence.
Song Yu let out a faint “Mm.” “Tomorrow, I’ll take you back.”
At those words, Kasi just pouted, showing no bigger reaction.
Song Yu found it strange instead. Given Kasi’s temperament, after all the effort it had taken to escape the rainforest, she surely wouldn’t be willing to head back so obediently.
“You have no objections?”
Kasi tossed the mangled leaf into the grass. “I miss Havana.”
“…” Song Yu remembered how Kasi had clashed with Havana the fiercest back in the tribe. A child’s mind was truly unpredictable.
From the garden, they had a clear view of the second-floor terrace. Kasi said bluntly, “You looked so fake chatting with that American.”
Kasi was a clever girl, always knowing exactly how to get under her skin.
“…”
It was the first time anyone had called her fake. Song Yu let out a light huff. “None of your business.”