Nie Jiuluo closed the album, took the bowl, and walked to the half-open window. The rain was falling rapidly, and in the center of the courtyard stood a huge black shadow swaying left and right in the rain. It was a three-meter-high osmanthus tree.
Nie Jiuluo was a bit concerned. A couple of days ago, Sister Lu had mentioned that when the flowers bloomed, she would collect petals to make cinnamon sugar and cinnamon sauce.
The phone resting on the workbench rang, signaling a new message. Nie Jiuluo, having just finished her white fungus soup, went over to check it. After reading the message, she immediately burned it. The message was from “over there”—why were they contacting her again when the matter seemed resolved?
Nie Jiuluo frowned, hesitated for a few seconds, and then clicked on the message.
Urgent, ITU.
Nie Jiuluo was taken aback. She had never seen the word “urgent” in the messages from “over there” before. She replied with a simple “yes.”
This was the agreed-upon rule: no matter how urgent, direct contact was prohibited without prior consent.
The call was from Jiang Baichuan, and his tone was serious as he got straight to the point: “Nie Er, Yan Tuo has escaped.”
The name “Yan Tuo” sounded almost unfamiliar to Nie Jiuluo. Fortunately, she quickly recalled who this person was and understood the implications of the news. She could immediately foresee the trouble “Yan Tuo running away” would bring her.
A surge of frustration rose within her, and she felt a strong urge to reach through the phone, trace the line to “over there,” and wreak havoc on the other side.
Teammates who are a hindrance, wasting resources—working with such individuals made her feel like she was experiencing the worst luck.
“When did this happen? How did he escape?”
Jiang Baichuan provided a brief explanation. He mentioned that, for the past two weeks, there had been no progress except for keeping the person locked up, which had made everyone anxious.
Two days ago, a missing person notice circulated through unofficial channels in Ankai City, with a reward offered for finding Yan Tuo. The “cleaning staff” who had stayed in Banya were disturbed and attempted to contact sources to see if there were any new developments.
Jiang Baichuan expressed regret: “This is partly my fault for not considering all aspects. There’s no one available in Banya now. The inexperienced individuals we sent were probably noticed by Yan Tuo and followed, discovering Banya.”
He sighed: “People are of varying intelligence. It’s a pity that those involved were not clever. What can be done?”
“Did Yan Tuo escape alone, or was everyone gone?”
Jiang Baichuan smiled bitterly: “When the situation reached this point, everyone was involved. It’s impossible to save just one.”
“And then, what’s to lose? Are there any casualties?”
Jiang Baichuan hesitated for a moment. “The pig farm was burned. The incident happened in the middle of the night. Meridian delivery—Hua’s sister-in-law was delivering food to Sun Zhou and happened to stumble into it. She was severely burned. I haven’t heard that she’s breathing yet, but the situation is not optimistic.”
The pig farm, also known as the “owl’s nest,” was a private prison located underground. Above ground, it was a pig farm next to a slaughterhouse. This setup had two advantages: first, the pigsty was dirty, so ordinary people avoided it; second, any strange noises would be mistaken for pig slaughtering, making it easier to hide any disturbances.
Regarding “meridian delivery,” it refers to the times when the earth owl eats: noon and midnight.
“The others were fine. They slept most of the night and lived in scattered locations far from the pig farm, so they avoided the incident. However, Ma Hanzi saw a car entering the village, went up for questioning, was grabbed by the head, knocked unconscious, and suffered a mild concussion.”
Nie Jiuluo listened carefully before commenting, “He didn’t have a good brain.”
Jiang Baichuan sighed, “Yes, this incident was particularly foolish. Sister-in-law Hua is now being taken care of by her distant relatives. As for our people, especially those whom Yan Tuo has seen, I’ve instructed them to ‘disappear’ for at least half a year to ensure that no matter how the other party investigates, they won’t find anything.”
Nie Jiuluo responded, “Of course, they should disappear. Hua’s sister-in-law and the big head—none of them are using their real names and they’re not local residents of Panya. With thousands of people around, if they vanish into the crowd and don’t appear, isn’t that effectively ‘disappearing’?”
Jiang Baichuan was embarrassed. “Nie Er, do you want to hide?”
Nie Jiuluo retorted, “How can I hide? I’m an ordinary person, with a name, a surname, property, and industry. Where would I go?”
Jiang Baichuan hurriedly said, “Don’t worry about that. We’ll make arrangements.”
“Even if you arrange for me to hide perfectly, for how long? Am I supposed to stay hidden for the rest of my life?”
Jiang Baichuan was silent for a long time. “Or, I could arrange for a few people to go over and take care of you secretly?”
Nie Jiuluo scoffed, “I really don’t think the people arranged by Jiang Baichuan can take care of me. If something goes wrong, I’m not sure who would be taking care of whom.”
Jiang Baichuan was at a loss. “You really shouldn’t have let him know your true identity.”
Nie Jiuluo was growing angrier. “Is this my fault? I’m just an ordinary person, with an ordinary name. What’s there to hide? Besides, I didn’t think anyone would be able to escape once delivered to you.”
Jiang Baichuan’s face darkened. “Well… what do you think? Yan Tuo has suffered a lot this time. It seems he’s holding a grudge against you.”
Nie Jiuluo sneered, “Of course. Could it be that after this incident, he’s fallen in love with me?”
Jiang Baichuan fell silent once more.
Outside the window, the rain was pouring heavily. The rain lines near the window were being blown sideways by the wind and illuminated by the light.
Given the circumstances, no matter how much Nie Jiuluo lost her temper with Jiang Baichuan, it was futile. She said, “I need to think this over. I’ll contact you later.”
After hanging up the phone, she stood by the window for a long time, feeling a mix of emotions and confusion.
With nothing else to do, she decided to return the empty dishes to Sister Lu.
The kitchen was on the east side of the courtyard. Due to its size, the old-style stove room was preserved. Sister Lu, coming from the countryside, preferred using small firewood to fuel the stove. Compared to the modern kitchen with its full set of appliances, she favored the stove room with its large iron pot and wooden cover for adding firewood. She often told Nie Jiuluo that rice cooked in the iron pot was fragrant and produced crispy hot pots and that corn roasted in the stove tasted far superior to oven-baked corn.
Nie Jiuluo wasn’t particularly concerned; she left such matters to Sister Lu. Whenever she had free time, she would sit in the stove room. Everything there was old, and moving a small stool to sit felt like a return to simpler times. It was a place where one could lose track of the current age and simply enjoy a moment of quietude.
If Sister Lu was cooking, it was even more pleasant. The taste of food cooked over fire had always been comforting to the heart.
……
Sister Lu was wiping the pot table in the stove room. When she saw Nie Jiuluo coming in with a plate and a bowl, she hurried over to take them. “Miss Nie, you still bring them down yourself. Just let me take it.”
Despite their familiar relationship, Sister Lu continued to call her “Miss Nie” out of politeness, given their employment relationship.
Nie Jiuluo sat down on the small stool by the stove, empty-handed.
Sister Lu, observing her demeanor, asked, “Isn’t work going well?”
In Sister Lu’s eyes, Nie Jiuluo was a winner in life: young, beautiful, talented, and employed. If anything went wrong, it would only be minor setbacks in work or creativity.
Nie Jiuluo shook her head. “No.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to compose herself. “I have some relatives and distant relatives back home, but they don’t do anything serious, and I have no contact with them.”
Sister Lu listened attentively. Employers often confided in her, and she appreciated being respected—something rare among housekeepers who were often treated as mere servants.
“But it’s not easy to decide. The previous generation owes them a lot of money.”
Sister Lu couldn’t help but ask, “How much does that cost? Are you… unable to pay it off now?”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t answer directly. “If you have a debt, you inevitably have connections. Originally, I thought that after the debt was paid off, they would go their own way. But I didn’t expect them to be out of Louzi now…”
Sister Lu was a bit nervous. “Then they all ran away, and I was left behind?”
Nie Jiuluo smiled wryly. “Do you know what I mean? Now their opponents are looking for me, and I’m the only target.”
Sister Lu understood. “Is it a big hassle? If it’s too much, you could call the police, and explain everything clearly. You can’t blame people for that, right?”
Nie Jiuluo glanced at the large iron pot on the stove. It was so big that if it were any larger, she could almost “stew herself in it.”
“It’s not about calling the police,” she said. “No matter what, I’m stuck.”
Jiang Baichuan hung up the phone. During the call, he maintained a smile, his tone calm, and his posture slightly flattering. But as soon as the call ended, his expression and posture shifted dramatically, as if he had transformed into a different person.
He tossed his phone aside, leaned into the bathroom mirror, and carefully inspected his sideburns.
Earlier, the big head had mentioned seeing white hair among his sideburns. Did he really have one?
Indeed, there was one, very conspicuous against his dark hair.
Jiang Baichuan was momentarily stunned. He reached to pull it out but was interrupted when he noticed someone leaning against the bathroom door.
There was a light in the bathroom, but the outside light was brighter. The figure was clad in a bright red satin dressing gown, and the snow outside illuminated her, making her face slightly blurry. At first glance, she looked like a dazzlingly bright flower.
Jiang Baichuan frowned. “When did you come up?”
He had deliberately gone to the third floor for privacy to make the call. The villa, his private property, had four floors in total, including a basement. The bedroom and bathroom on this floor were intended for guests, and normally, only housekeeping staff came here.
Not knowing how long she had been standing there or what she had overheard, Jiang Baichuan glanced at the mirror again and carefully removed the white hair. “And wearing such bright red clothes—don’t you feel uneasy? Female ghosts in red are said to be more malevolent.”
As he spoke, he removed the white hair, leaving his sideburns black again, which gave him a sense of relief.
Quecha remarked, “That Nie Er—whether her real surname is Nie or not, it’s a fake, right?”
Jiang Baichuan’s face darkened. “You shouldn’t ask. Don’t.”
Quecha acted as if she hadn’t heard him. “She wants to know if you’re against her, and you’re also in trouble, right?”
Jiang Baichuan was displeased. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
Quecha, unafraid, continued, “I was in the hotel that night and overheard everything. What you said will be calculated, and you’ll be pushed into the river. If you hadn’t deliberately let things slide, Yan Tuo’s accomplices wouldn’t have found Banya so easily.”
Jiang Baichuan roared, “Say it again!”
Quecha was startled and, with tears welling up in her eyes, spoke very aggrieved, “Blame me? You’re doing things secretly, and why didn’t you tell Sister-in-law Hua? She also played mahjong with me and said that if she didn’t, it would be gone…”
Jiang Baichuan, realizing he was at fault, softened his tone. “It’s not that. Some things are better kept between fewer people. It’s also a matter of timing; she was bound to face this crisis in her life. It’s just unfortunate that it coincided with her delivery.”
As he spoke, he stepped forward and reached out to hug Quecha’s waist. Quecha struggled at first but eventually allowed him to hug her. Although she was still unwilling to forgive him fully, she maintained a cold demeanor and avoided eye contact.
Jiang Baichuan coaxed her gently, “It’s been so many days, are you still angry? You’re like a pump, out of breath endlessly.”
Quecha couldn’t hold back and laughed, “You’re a pump.”
With the tension easing, Jiang Baichuan seized the opportunity to address a more serious matter. “Quecha, there are some things you shouldn’t talk about recklessly.”
Quecha glanced at him, “Don’t worry. I’m not stupid. I’ll only discuss it with you. In front of others, I won’t mention it. Yan Tuo ran away, so Nie Er must be very angry, right?”
Regarding Nie Er, I know a bit about her background.
According to Jiang Baichuan, Nie Er is somewhat akin to him. Both come from a lineage with ancient, not very glorious, but not entirely evil businesses. Their work involves practices dating back to the origins of humanity, belonging to what could be considered the outer eight gates and the “hunting” trade.
Since the founding of the People’s Republic of China, many such old businesses have faded, and Jiang Baichuan’s field has also declined. Most of those remaining in the industry are reluctant to continue. Nie Er is among them.
It’s understandable; not every blacksmith’s child must forge iron, and not every farmer’s daughter must farm. In the world of flowers, the forest is vast, and people should be free to follow their own paths without restriction.
However, Nie Er possesses skills inherent from birth, which may not be frequently used but are crucial under specific circumstances—like some police officers who might rarely fire a weapon but must be prepared if faced with armed criminals.
Due to the substantial debt between Nie Er and Jiang Baichuan from earlier years, they agreed that debts would be repaid through labor. This arrangement meant that Nie Er had to assist Jiang Baichuan whenever needed, keeping her tethered to his troubled waters.
Nie Er wished to remain out of the spotlight, avoid trouble, and live a peaceful life. Jiang Baichuan respected this, so her true identity was known only to him and a few others. She used a separate phone and account, with no written records of communication. Urgent matters were to be addressed with prior consent, avoiding direct calls.
For Quecha, Nie Er was like a distant figure—unknown in personal details, yet available for assistance if needed, much like the deities summoned during journeys for help.
On this trip to Qingyang, Jiang Baichuan had planned for Nie Er’s periphery to stay for fifteen days. If all remained calm, she would wait and observe. If changes occurred, she would be summoned immediately.
According to Jiang Baichuan, Nie Er was indeed in the right place, as she had managed to lead Yan Tuo and his group to the end. But now, with Yan Tuo having fled, Nie Er must be extremely angry.
