In the early hours of the morning, in the heart of the Qinba Mountains.
The forest was lush and dense, and the deep night was pitch black—saying it was “so dark you can’t see your hand in front of your face” wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
However, in this desolate area, once referred to by ancient people as the “fox’s abode, the den of wolves,” a small corner was illuminated by a jumbled mix of lights, accompanied by faint voices.
The light came from various sources: camp lamps, glow sticks, and wolf-eye flashlights.
A dozen or so men and women, ranging in age from twenty to forty, were packing their luggage and storing their tents under the lights.
A short young man pulled out a crumpled orange down jacket from his mountaineering bag, shook it out, and put it on. He then donned a fancy magic scarf and grinned at a muscular man in a military-green short-sleeve shirt across from him. “Old Dao, look at me. I’m a college student here for an adventure hike. Do I look like one?”
While speaking, he spun around 360 degrees, giving Old Dao a full view.
Old Dao, who was not old, only about thirty, had a dark complexion and a chiseled square face. He was wrapping a 56-style military dagger in cowhide. Hearing the young man’s question, he gave him a sidelong glance and said, “Yeah, you really do look like one—a bird.”
Saying this, he drew the dagger, pretending to stab the young man. “Putting onions in a pig’s nose, pretending to be something you’re not!”
The young man had anticipated this and quickly darted away, laughing. Nearby, a woman with a pale face couldn’t stand it and said, “Shh, Uncle Jiang is on the phone.”
The young man immediately fell silent, clasped his hands over his head in a gesture of apology, and then slipped back to his original position.
Old Dao gave him a disdainful look, his gaze full of schadenfreude.
The young man, disgruntled, adjusted his backpack and looked towards the direction behind him.
There, about fifty meters away, stood a man on a small hill. He was on the phone, and due to the backlighting, his face was indistinguishable, but he was of medium build and stood very straight.
The young man nudged Old Dao with his elbow. “Hey, weren’t we supposed to stay in the mountains for half a month? Why are we rushing back after just half the time?”
Old Dao’s reply shut him up: “What is going back so bad? Have you fallen in love with this place?”
Jiang Baichuan was on the phone when he saw Xing Shen coming up from the bottom of the slope.
Xing Shen was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, tall, and had a scholarly demeanor. Even in such a place, he looked refined and courteous.
In the middle of the night, he was wearing sunglasses, but no one thought it odd.
Because Xing Shen was blind.
Jiang Baichuan made a “wait a moment” gesture with his hand, indicating that they should talk later.
He knew that Xing Shen could “see” him. Xing Shen’s sense of smell was extremely keen and could almost help him with navigation. Additionally, he could not see the colors or details of objects but had a vague perception of a kind of “light.” Xing Shen once explained it to him with an analogy: everything was a “light-emitting body,” either hidden or visible. What you think doesn’t emit light is merely invisible to the naked eye, just as some sound frequencies are inaudible to human ears, but that doesn’t mean there is no sound.
Jiang Baichuan sometimes felt it was a pity that Xing Shen was blind, but other times thought it was quite nice that, though he lacked conventional eyesight, he had another form of “eyes” that saw things in a simpler, purer way.
When Xing Shen approached, he stood silently to one side, not speaking or moving, until Jiang Baichuan finished the call and spoke. “Uncle Jiang, let’s hurry. We should be able to reach the exit by noon tomorrow and get back to Banya by evening.”
Jiang Baichuan smiled happily and said, “No need to rush. Everyone has worked hard. Take your time, and rest if needed. We’ll just aim to reach the mountain pass before dark tomorrow.”
Xing Shen was taken aback. “Aren’t you in a hurry to meet Yan Tuo?”
He lowered his voice instinctively when mentioning Yan Tuo.
About an hour ago, Jiang Baichuan had woken everyone up and instructed them to pack up and leave the mountain as soon as possible.
“No rush, no rush, you can’t eat hot tofu if you’re too eager,” Jiang Baichuan said, leaning closer to Xing Shen and whispering, “The person is already in Nie’s hands.”
Xing Shen was startled. “A Luo? How did they run into them?”
Jiang Baichuan replied, “In a small place, narrow roads. Buddha meets Buddha, ghost meets a ghost.”
The effects of the injection were indeed fierce. Yan Tuo didn’t regain even a vague consciousness until noon the next day. By “vague,” it meant he wasn’t truly awake—he merely had a faint awareness before being dragged back into unconsciousness by a giant hand of darkness.
At that moment, he felt the noise of the traffic around him and his body was uncontrollable, jolting and rolling. When he desperately opened his eyes, he recognized that he was in the back of his car. The two large items next to him were very familiar: the canvas bag containing Sun Zhou’s belongings and the suitcase with the dog’s teeth.
Fate had turned, and now he too was confined in the back of the car. He wasn’t in a bag but was tightly bound with tape—his hands, feet, and mouth. He guessed that Nie Jiuluo must be driving, and the car was likely going through a busy market area. The sounds were very mixed: car noises, honking, exhaust sounds, and advertisements for sales, shouting “Special discounts, today only.”
Listening to the advertisements, he fell back into boundless darkness. This time, he was aware he had passed out, experiencing a burning anxiety. He felt as if he was running endlessly in the darkness, panting and sweating. He didn’t know how long he ran, but suddenly a gust of cold wind pierced through him, making him feel icy all over.
Yan Tuo opened his eyes.
It wasn’t an illusion; it was really cold.
The sky was already dark, and in his field of vision, there were even darker, rough silhouettes of mountains, with a few tiny stars twinkling high above.
Autumn in the northern region was bitterly cold at night, even colder in the mountains. The back of the car door was open, and the mountain wind was howling in, hitting him directly where he lay—this was truly a “through-the-chest wind,” penetrating his chest, heart, lungs, and intestines.
Yan Tuo curled up to warm himself and gradually heard voices, carried by the wind, from two people talking.
He turned his stiff neck and looked towards the source of the sound.
It was too dark, but thanks to the faint light from the car’s dashboard, he could vaguely make out that there were two people: one was Nie Jiuluo, whose figure he knew too well—intimately familiar from grinding his teeth in anger; the other was a man he hadn’t seen before, with a medium build and a smooth hairline from forehead to the back of his head, suggesting he had a slicked-back hairstyle. From the voice, the man seemed to be somewhat older.
He listened intently, trying to catch the words carried by the wind.
Nie Jiuluo: “…Sun Zhou, can he still be saved?”
The old man hesitated: “Hard to say, we’ll try our best. If only it had been earlier… It’s already taking root.”
Nie Jiuluo: “By the way, when Sun Zhou went missing, I reported it. At that time, I didn’t think…”
The voice faded out here, and Yan Tuo couldn’t hear the rest.
“…Find a way to close the case, either make him show up or call home.”
The old man: “Don’t worry, we will handle it thoroughly.”
Nie Jiuluo: “And…”
Yan Tuo saw her take something from her back pocket and hand it to the old man. “Yan Tuo’s phone. I’ve tried it; you can unlock it with his right index finger. There’s one problem…”
At this point, her voice became softer. Yan Tuo, realizing this was related to him, strained to lift his neck and get closer to the conversation. Fortunately, after a few seconds, her voice became clear again.
“His mother is Lin Xirou, but I checked, and she’s been in a vegetative state for over twenty years. How could there be so many calls with her?”
Yan Tuo’s forehead broke out in sweat, but it was quickly blown away by the mountain wind.
The old man: “Could it be his mother’s caretaker?”
Nie Jiuluo: “I don’t know. Anyway, it’s your problem now. If you find anything out and want to tell me, you can; if not, keep it to yourself.”
The old man laughed twice: “Nie Er, we’re all part of the same circle.”
Nie Er, wasn’t that Nie “Nine” Luo?
Nie Jiuluo: “No, let’s keep our distance. I’m not part of your circle. On to business, how much for the three items in the car?”
The old man smiled wryly: “How can we talk about money? Nie Er, the connection between our families spans two generations…”
Nie Jiuluo interrupted him: “No sentimental talks. Three items, no duplicates. I’ll give you a million; that’s not too much, right?”
Yan Tuo was even more confused. Initially, he thought Nie Jiuluo and the old man were on the same side, but now it seemed like a transaction as if picking up and paying for a delivery.
The old man sighed: “Not too much.”
Nie Jiuluo: “Then it’s a flat price—deduct one million from the debt I owe you.”
Yan Tuo was increasingly baffled but remembered every word. Even if he couldn’t understand it all now, information was still information, and every puzzle had a solution.
At this point, it was clear they were wrapping up. The old man asked: “How will you get out? Should I leave a car for you?”
Nie Jiuluo: “No need. Just give me a flashlight. I have my plans.”
After speaking, both of them came toward the car. The old man went straight to the driver’s seat, while Nie Jiuluo walked to the back of the car and helped close the rear door.
Just as he was about to pull down the car cover, Nie Jiuluo suddenly saw Yan Tuo’s eyes. The car’s rear compartment was very dark, but his eyes were glowing, deep and bright, staring directly at her.
Nie Jiuluo smiled and leaned down to Yan Tuo: “Don’t blame me. You brought this on yourself. Why become a ghost instead of living a good life?”
With that, she straightened up.
The old man had already turned on the interior lights. Yan Tuo saw Nie Jiuluo’s face; she had wiped away her smile and looked down at him with disdain, as if he were a pile of dog waste everyone avoided.
Then, with a heavy thud, the car cover was slammed shut.
Nie Jiuluo watched the car drive away. Although this was the mountain pass, it was no different from the mountain itself. The light from the car and the engine noise were soon swallowed by the thick mountains and dense forest.
She stood there for a while, then turned on the wolf-eye flashlight that Jiang Baichuan had left her. After adjusting the brightness, she followed another path to head out.
This was the foot of the mountain, still a distance from the main road.
As she walked, she sensed something and looked up to see Xing Shen waiting by the roadside.
Xing Shen, facing her direction, smiled slightly. “A Luo, it’s been a long time. Has it been six or seven years?”
It had indeed been a long time—six years and seven months. During that period, they had only spoken once or twice, always about business, never engaging with each other personally.
Nie Jiuluo replied with an “Mm” and glanced at him.
He was still the same, but more mature than before. He had always been praised for being able to become a star when he grew up, and it was true—he had the body, appearance, and temperament to match, except for his eyes.
She didn’t stop. “I have an appointment and am in a hurry.”
Xing Shen reached out, initially intending to stop her, but then withdrew his hand. He stood there, and the surrounding area fell silent again, the kind of quiet unique to the mountains, filled with countless subtle noises, as if neither of them had ever been there.
Nie Jiuluo had indeed “made an appointment.”
This was a mountain road, winding and bending, its ends lost in the quiet darkness. Nie Jiuluo sat on a roadside post, patiently waiting.
The temperature had dropped further, and a thin shirt was insufficient to keep warm. She regretted not asking Jiang Baichuan for a jacket, so she kept rubbing her arms to warm them and strategically draped her hair in front and behind her to shield against the wind.
After about half an hour, two car headlights approached from a distance. It was Lao Qian’s car. Nie Jiuluo stood up and waved. As the car pulled up and had not yet come to a complete stop, she had already opened the door and jumped inside.
In this season, the car didn’t have the heating on, but the temperature was much more comfortable.
Lao Qian looked around in astonishment and indignation. “Miss Nie, he… he just left you here in the middle of the night?”
Nie Jiuluo smiled. “It started well, but then something went wrong, and the negotiation broke down.”
Lao Qian started the car. “What kind of person is this? Not very manly.”
Of course, he thought inwardly that Nie Jiuluo deserved it, being so casual and bringing it upon herself. But since she was a guest, he couldn’t let that sentiment show.
Nie Jiuluo unfolded a small blanket in the car. “Driver Qian, please drive slowly and steadily. I’ll take a nap.”
She lay down in the back seat. In the past couple of days, her back hadn’t touched anything flat, and she was exhausted. Now lying down felt incredibly comfortable, her limbs and body relaxing.
In her half-conscious state, she heard Lao Qian ask, “So, Miss Nie, will the rest of the itinerary continue?”
In his view, after such an incident, most people would lose interest in continuing, either ending the trip hastily or canceling it midway. He had to remind her that if the itinerary was canceled due to client issues, she would be eligible for a refund of half the travel cost but would have to pay a 20% cancellation fee.
Nie Jiuluo replied, “Of course, why wouldn’t it continue?”
It wouldn’t do to delay the plan because of a small issue.