Nie Jiuluo had never felt such intense panic before. Fear of water had always been her greatest weakness, and now, it felt like she was paralyzed in the darkness. Her mind was in turmoil until a sliver of white light pierced through the gloom. Yan Tuo emerged from the shadows, brandishing a shiny boning knife and leaning toward her.
Her voice trembled uncontrollably as she asked, “What are you doing?”
Yan Tuo’s response was chilling: “Miss Nie, you’ve made me suffer greatly. I’ll carve you piece by piece to make you understand retribution.”
As he spoke, the knife’s tip descended toward her cheek. The cold blade made Nie Jiuluo’s scalp prickle with fear, and she cried out, “No, please don’t.”
As an artist with a deep appreciation for beauty, the thought of her face being mutilated was unbearable. She would rather die than face such a fate.
Desperate, she reached out and grasped Yan Tuo’s waist, pleading, “Let’s talk.”
Yan Tuo asked, “How do you want to talk?”
She responded, “We can talk about anything you want, just take your time.”
As she spoke, Yan Tuo’s hand slid under her clothing, his fingertips tracing the contours of her back. His lips approached hers, and he whispered, “Let’s talk.”
She knew her beauty was both her weapon and her shield. Yan Tuo finally swayed, lowered his head, and kissed her. She breathed a sigh of relief, returning his kiss more willingly, planning to wait until he was fully captivated and then seize the chance to turn the situation to her advantage
Nie Jiuluo suddenly opened her eyes. It was dark, but a light outside the window illuminated her surroundings. This was the benefit of living in the heart of the city—lights that kept loneliness at bay.
She found herself on a soft mattress, surrounded by curtains. Realizing where she was, she sat up abruptly: this was her home, her bedroom. Had it all been a dream?
She touched her hair—it was damp and somewhat stiff, confirming that she had indeed fallen into the water. How had she gotten back? What had happened in between?
A chill ran down her spine. She instinctively placed her hand on her chest and checked her legs, finding no discomfort. Relieved, she hurried out of bed, opened the door, and peered out of the window.
The light from the kitchen was on, and she saw Sister Lu in the courtyard, watering the plants with a hose.
Nie Jiuluo called out, “Sister Lu.”
Sister Lu quickly stopped what she was doing and turned to her. “Miss Nie, are you awake? Do you still want dinner?”
Nie Jiuluo asked urgently, “How did I get back?”
Sister Lu responded with confusion, “I don’t know. You… I really don’t know.”
Sister Lu was unsure of what had transpired. She knew Nie Jiuluo was supposed to attend an exhibition and wasn’t certain if she would return for dinner. At around four o’clock, she tried calling Nie Jiuluo but received no answer. Deciding to prepare for both scenarios, Sister Lu washed and cut vegetables and meat, ready to serve dinner quickly if Nie Jiuluo returned. If not, she planned to store the food for later.
During this time, Sister Lu had opened the door to pick up a few packages and had also taken out the trash. After everything was set up, she sat outside under the eaves, enjoying a video and a moment of relaxation. It was then she noticed the door to the main house on the first floor was open, which puzzled her because she remembered closing it after cleaning. Thinking it odd but not overly concerning, she went upstairs and found Nie Jiuluo lying on the bed, seemingly exhausted from the exhibition. Not wanting to disturb her, Sister Lu figured that Nie Jiuluo must have returned, handled things on her own, and she hadn’t noticed.
Nie Jiuluo brushed off Sister Lu’s questions and returned to her room, sitting in front of her dresser. The room was dim, and her reflection in the mirror looked unfamiliar and strange. She had never faced extreme danger before, and now, seeing herself in the mirror, she felt like she was confronting her true self—one that was revealed in the raw, unfiltered state of her dreams and fears. The experience in the dream had shown her a side she wasn’t comfortable with, a side that was far from the glamorous image she maintained.
Suddenly, Nie Jiuluo remembered something crucial. She hurriedly opened her drawer and retrieved her old phone. Most of her phones had been damaged or submerged in water, but fortunately, she had a replacement ready. She plugged in the phone, waited for it to power up, and connected to the home Wi-Fi. Logging into WeChat, she dialed Lao Cai’s voice call directly.
Lao Cai answered, thinking she was calling to discuss her experience at the exhibition. “Ah Luo, how was the exhibition? Were you encouraged?”
Nie Jiuluo spoke quickly, her breath uneven with urgency. “Lao Cai, do you know anyone who runs a private hospital? I need a comprehensive physical examination—thorough and immediate. Arrange it now. I want the results on the spot, and if the doctor needs to work overtime, it’s not an issue. Just make it happen.”
She wasn’t naive. She suspected that Yan Tuo had done something to her, whether it was injecting something or installing some device.
Ten minutes later, Nie Jiuluo left the house in a hurry, barely pausing to tell Sister Lu that she was heading for a physical examination. Sister Lu was taken aback. “It’s so late. Do hospitals even offer physical exams at this hour? They might be closed.”
Before Sister Lu could finish, Nie Jiuluo was already gone. Sister Lu felt a growing unease. Nie Jiuluo’s hurried departure and odd behavior since returning from the exhibition made her worry that something might be wrong. She resolved to wait up for her and remained on edge throughout the night.
Around one o’clock in the morning, Nie Jiuluo returned, visibly exhausted, her steps heavy and dragging. Sister Lu greeted her with concern, asking, “How was the physical examination? Are you okay?”
Nie Jiuluo simply replied, “I’m fine,” and made her way back to her room, bypassing Sister Lu. Despite the assurance, Sister Lu noticed that Nie Jiuluo’s demeanor suggested otherwise. Feeling anxious and unable to shake her worry, she prepared a cup of longan and wolfberry tea and brought it to Nie Jiuluo’s room.
As Sister Lu approached the second floor, she was startled by what she saw.
Nie Jiuluo had arranged most of the statues in the studio into a large circle next to the stage, mixing various sizes and heights. She settled herself in the center of the circle, touched and adjusted each piece, and eventually lay down comfortably amidst them.
Sister Lu entered the room and observed Nie Jiuluo lying on the floor. She commented with a hint of concern, “Miss Nie, why are you lying on the ground? Isn’t it cold?”
Nie Jiuluo replied, “Look at them; they’re so cute.”
Sister Lu was puzzled. While she acknowledged that Nie Jiuluo’s work was exquisite and detailed, she didn’t find the statues particularly cute compared to popular characters like Pleasant Goat and Beautiful Goat. She placed a cup of wolfberry water on the table, saying, “I made this myself. It’s cute no matter how you look at it.”
Nie Jiuluo murmured, “Almost… I won’t be able to touch them anymore.”
Sister Lu understood what was happening. She suspected that Nie Jiuluo, feeling ill or concerned about her health after a recent physical examination, was now overly preoccupied with everything around her. This new obsession might be a result of her worries, but seeing her in good spirits, Sister Lu was relieved. “It’s okay, God will give you a gift,” she reassured her.
Nie Jiuluo didn’t respond and continued to lie relaxed among her statues, her eyes gradually closing as she relaxed more deeply.
It wasn’t God but Yan Tuo who had given her the “gift.”
Over the next three days, life returned to normal for Nie Jiuluo. She reactivated her old phone, preparing to replace it once new models from major brands were released. In the meantime, she practiced molding small objects with clay, creating figures based on Zhou Fang’s “Hairpin Lady” from the Tang Dynasty. She meticulously shaped and refined the figures, creating elegant depictions of Tang Dynasty beauties.
One afternoon, with sunlight streaming warmly into her studio, Nie Jiuluo was working on the sixth figure, focusing on its “eyebrows.” From a modern aesthetic perspective, Tang Dynasty eyebrows, with their thick, rounded shapes and inverted eight-character forms, might not be considered attractive.
Her phone rang with an unknown number. With clay on her hands, she awkwardly answered by sliding her chin on the screen.
Yan Tuo’s voice came through, “Miss Nie?”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart tightened, but she tried to remain calm. She glanced at the phone but didn’t reply, continuing her work on the figure.
Yan Tuo, waiting on the other end, asked, “Are you there?”
Nie Jiuluo replied, “I have something to say.”
Yan Tuo then invited her, “Are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner together.”
Nie Jiuluo inquired, “Where?”
Yan Tuo answered, “I’ll call an online car for you and have it pick you up at six o’clock.”
Nie Jiuluo huffed and said nothing further. Yan Tuo was silent for a few moments before ending the call.
With the time approaching half-past four, Nie Jiuluo had enough time for a shower. She put aside the clay figurine, shaping it roughly without perfecting the details. After setting the figurine upright, she examined it for a moment before flicking it off the table. The clay figure flew through the air, landing softly without breaking, just flattening out.
Nie Jiuluo thought to herself: You win this round.
At six o’clock, Nie Jiuluo descended the stairs dressed in a striking crimson ankle-length skirt with high slits, a black suit, and black lace-up heels. The sound of her heels clacking on the stairs caught Sister Lu’s attention.
Sister Lu poked her head out from the kitchen and asked, “Aren’t you eating at home today?”
Nie Jiuluo shook a small silver diamond-encrusted bag and replied, “Not today.”
Sister Lu watched her leave with a tinge of envy, reminiscing about her own youth and the more conservative fashion of her time. She sighed, noting the difference in styles and how modern trends allowed for bolder choices. She glanced at her own figure, feeling a pang of regret.
When the car arrived, it was at the entrance of a pedestrian street. The area was bustling with people, and the streetlights were lit up. Nie Jiuluo stepped out of the car, unsure of where to go. A young man in an apron waved to her and said, “Miss Nie, right? The guest mentioned that the place might be hard to find, so I was asked to pick you up.”
The young man led her down a small street off the main road. At the end of the lane was an old-fashioned brine shop, a type of restaurant that was less frequented due to its less desirable location. It made sense that this restaurant was struggling for customers, given its location in a narrow alley. It seemed that they needed to rely on bringing in guests to stay in business.
Nie Jiuluo glanced at the modest shop but did not see Yan Tuo. The young man pointed to a staircase leading to the second floor and said, “He’s in the private room.”
A private room in such a rundown place seemed unusual, but Nie Jiuluo climbed the stairs and found a room with a blue calico curtain. She pulled aside the curtain to find a simple square table with Yan Tuo sitting behind it.
Nie Jiuluo did not acknowledge Yan Tuo directly. She moved to sit across from him, carefully managing her skirt and adjusting her stool, which was uneven. After some shuffling, she managed to get it to a stable position.
Yan Tuo observed her efforts and apologized, “I’m sorry for the simplicity of the place and for your dress.”
Nie Jiuluo glanced at him and replied coolly, “I’m fine with what I wear. It doesn’t matter who I’m eating with or where we’re eating.” After a pause, she added, “You’re quite something.”
In her life, Nie Jiuluo had only encountered someone as formidable as Yan Tuo once before, and he had made a significant impression on her. She had to thank him for the reminder—she would never underestimate someone again in the future, especially during confrontations.
Yan Tuo nodded and said, “Shall we serve the food?”
“Yes,” Nie Jiuluo replied.
Yan Tuo pulled a bell hanging on the wall. Soon, a waiter brought in a variety of small dishes: beef, tripe, crayfish, chicken wings, peanuts, edamame, kelp knots, and lotus root slices. There was also half a draft beer, a pot of chrysanthemum tea with two cups, and a thermos of boiling water. The setup indicated that they were expected to eat slowly and talk for a while.
Once the waiter left, he closed a sliding door on the side of the stairs, muffling the noise from outside.
Yan Tuo reached into a paper bag and handed it to Nie Jiuluo, saying, “For you.”
Nie Jiuluo took the bag and looked inside. It contained everything she had lost when she fell into the water, with everything replaced or repaired to be as good as new or better. The phone was the latest model, and the bag itself was new. What mattered most to her was the dagger she had been worried about—it was there, unscathed. Even the snap that Yan Tuo had swallowed was included.
Nie Jiuluo remained silent, placing the paper bag aside, and waited for Yan Tuo to continue.
Yan Tuo, having removed his jacket and started to take off his T-shirt, revealed his injuries. His back and shoulders were covered with scars, remnants of his encounters with Jiang Baichuan.
Nie Jiuluo stared, expecting to see a less impressive physique, but instead found Yan Tuo’s form fit and well-built. She looked away and focused on the teapot’s spout, her fingers pressing the edge of her teacup.
Yan Tuo, noticing her reaction, said, “Without your help, I wouldn’t have suffered these injuries.”
Nie Jiuluo raised her eyes. “So what?”
Yan Tuo continued, “So when you’re in my hands, I could do the same to you, even if it’s just a few cuts on your face.”
There was no clear rebuttal to this, and Nie Jiuluo’s fingers fidgeted with the cup, turning it on the table.
Yan Tuo put his T-shirt back on and remarked, “But I didn’t do anything. I just brought you here. Miss Nie, I’ve given you a significant gift and would like something in return.
