Chapter Nine: The Snake Catcher King Arrives

Little Snake Jin’er had become a star. In Zhong Village, more and more people talked about it, making it the center of local conversation. This strange snake—beautiful, exotic, harmless to humans, fond of hunting caged birds, especially rare ones, and displaying uncanny intelligence—captured everyone’s fascination.

Many tried to look it up online, but none could identify it.

The snake piqued the interest not only of ordinary citizens but also of the authorities. Associations for the Protection of Wildlife, institutes for serpent research—each one became involved. The first consensus among all organizations was that this extraordinary little snake must not be harmed. The serpent research institute wished to capture and study it, to discern its species and habits, while the Wildlife Protection Association objected, insisting that the snake could not be captured or harmed, and should only be driven back to the wild.

The two institutions fell into dispute. In the end, the government intervened. Their decision: for public safety, the snake must be captured, but unharmed; only under that condition could it be studied. The Wildlife Protection Association objected, but with the government involved, they had no choice but to compromise.

Responsibility for the operation was given to the City Public Security Bureau, assisted by the Wildlife Protection Association and the Animal Research Institute of Sun Yat-sen University. But how, exactly, could the snake be caught?

Public reaction was strong, and the authorities took it seriously. The deputy director of the Public Security Bureau personally took charge. To ensure nothing went awry, they brought in Xian Donghai, Guangdong’s renowned King of Snake Catchers.

Xian Donghai hailed from a mountain village in eastern Guangdong, from a family of snake catchers whose lineage stretched back five generations. The family was famous, though the tradition of the craft had mostly passed down to one child per generation, leaving few masters. Xian inherited his father’s trade, learning from a young age, honing hands as deft as any serpent. Now thirty-five, he had captured tens of thousands of snakes of all kinds. His fame soared, especially after he traveled to Australia and, with his bare hands, caught the world’s third most venomous snake—the taipan—securing his reputation not only as Guangdong’s King of Snake Catchers but as the nation’s premier master.

The taipan is the fastest-striking snake in the world; its attacks are nearly invisible to the naked eye. To catch one by hand is almost unthinkable.

Xian’s appearance was unremarkable—short in stature, with eyes as sharp as a viper’s, his face pitted and scarred by years of snakebite, the accumulated toxins permanently altering his features. His hands were thick as tree bark, hard as iron, impervious to even a sharp knife; his fingers, gnarled and stiff, moved with surprising agility when handling snakes.

He was, one might say, immune to all poisons. In China, even the deadliest snakes could only make him feel mildly unwell. During the taipan capture, he was accidentally scratched by its fangs; a trace of venom entered his body, causing him to fall unconscious for three days and nights, burning with fever.

Had he been bitten outright, he likely would not have survived; a single taipan bite contains enough venom to kill half a million mice, or a hundred and fifty humans. Even his resistance would not have been enough.

After surviving the taipan’s poison, his immunity grew even stronger. Chinese snakes are nothing compared to Australia’s; even the king cobra’s venom is a hundred times weaker than that of the taipan. So, though he sensed Jin’er was not an ordinary snake, he wasn’t concerned.

At dawn, more than ten vehicles set out for Zhong Village in Panyu, a grand convoy. Besides police, staff from the Wildlife Protection Association and Animal Research Institute, the King of Snake Catchers sat in front, flanked by two snakebite doctors, just in case.

The little snake, oblivious to its newfound fame and the government’s dispatch of the King of Snake Catchers, lay coiled peacefully in a bamboo tube, eyes half-closed, perhaps dreaming sweetly. Sha Ler had already gone out, buying breakfast for two yuan as he made his way to the construction site.

He was just beginning to learn the craft of rebar work.

Jin’er’s stardom only made Sha Ler more anxious, though he could do nothing about it. He also worried about Gang Mengzi, who had been hanging out with Liu Xi these past days, not coming to work yesterday, absent all night, whereabouts unknown.

Preoccupied, Sha Ler arrived at the site. Work began early; the midday sun was too fierce, so mornings were best. When he arrived, the foreman and Qiang were not yet there. He sat on a pile of steel rods, staring off into the distance, troubled.

“Ler, you’re here early,” a worker in his thirties approached. His name was Wang Jiafu, a fellow villager from Wangjiatang, just ten miles from Sha Ler’s hometown of Xiasha.

“Good morning, Brother Wang,” Sha Ler replied, distracted.

“Hey, it’s lively on the square today. Everyone’s gone to watch the excitement.”

“What’s happening?” he asked absently.

“You don’t know?” Wang Jiafu said, lowering his voice mysteriously. “There’s that strange snake, right? The city police are here today, brought a snake-catching king to catch it.”

“What?” Sha Ler was startled. He broke into a run, calling over his shoulder for Wang to tell the foreman he’d gone to see the spectacle. Wang shook his head as he watched him go.

“Young people always want to see the excitement,” he muttered, then thought no more of it.

Sha Ler ran straight to the square, where at least several hundred onlookers were being kept behind police lines. Over a dozen birdcages hung from the trees, the songbirds within warbling melodiously. By the police cars, more than a dozen men—not officers—stood together.

“There—that’s the King of Snake Catchers. They say he’s caught tens of thousands of snakes. Amazing.”

“With him here, that little snake won’t escape,” a young man laughed. “That snake’s famous now. If only I were that famous—”

“What, you want to be a snake too?”

“I bet once they catch it, that snake will become a celebrity—maybe even star in movies or TV!” the youth argued. “So beautiful, so smart—where else could you find such a snake?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. A snake in movies? Why not make it a pop star!” sneered another.

“Call me a fool if you want, but what if it’s a movie about a snake? It could be the lead! I once saw a film where a dog was the star—and it sold big.”

Sha Ler ignored their chatter, pushing forward for a better look at the King of Snake Catchers, his eyes flashing with resentment. He was anxious, praying Jin’er wouldn’t appear, wouldn’t get caught.

“Damn snake-catcher, what business is this of yours?” he cursed silently. He glanced again at the arguing youths, dismissing their talk of movies as nonsense. All he wanted was for Jin’er to stay with him—not to become a star, not for money. This troublemaking little creature had caused enough problems.

He thought of going home to check on Jin’er, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of gold. Jin’er darted onto a nearby sapling, glanced his way, and flicked its crimson tongue.

“Damn it, get back!” he wanted to shout, but dared not. The little snake slipped away into another tree’s crown, making straight for the birdcages.

“There it is! The little snake’s here—in that tree!” a long-haired youth had spotted it, pointing and shouting. Instantly, every eye in the square followed his finger. The snake emerged onto a branch, raising its tiny head, proudly flicking its red tongue, showing not a trace of fear before the crowd.