Lin Xirou’s expression was one of helplessness. “Why are you so stubborn? This situation is not your fault at all. It’s the dog’s fault for causing trouble and dragging you into it.”
Yan Tuo’s hand froze on the doorknob. “Dogtooth?”
Lin Xirou nodded grimly. “The situation is too complicated to explain right now. I’ll fill you in later. In short, you shouldn’t feel burdened by this. It’s not your fault.”
Yan Tuo was silent for a moment before responding. “In that case, Aunt Lin, I’ll handle my own grievances myself. You take care of everything. I don’t want others to look down on me.”
Lin Xirou managed a smile. “You, of all people, have nothing to be looked down upon. And what could you possibly need to ask me for?” She paused, her expression turning serious. “Do you remember when Xiong Hei set the fire? There was a woman who was burned?”
Yan Tuo’s silence was heavy. “That was Sister-in-law Hua, right? Did she wake up? Was she taken out?”
Lin Xirou’s smile turned contemptuous. “She didn’t wake up. She’s already dead.”
Yan Tuo felt a sinking sensation in his heart. Despite his resentment, he hadn’t wanted her to die.
Lin Xirou’s voice was filled with bitterness. “The Banya group disappeared completely, leaving only Sister-in-law Hua behind. I had our people keep watch over everything—her hospitalization, death, cremation, and even the burial. I had them monitor her grave.”
A chill ran down Yan Tuo’s spine as he listened.
Lin Xirou continued. “On the eighteenth day after her funeral, an old man secretly went to burn paper offerings. He was a crutch-using, lame old man. I told them to ensure they brought back every single hair from him.”
As she spoke, a photo message arrived. Lin Xirou clicked on it with a forced smile. “Look, is this the old man you mentioned?”
Her expression changed dramatically. The blood drained from her face, leaving her looking ashen. Her hands trembled, gripping the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Yan Tuo peered at the screen. The photo showed the old man—a face that, despite age, was marked by a fierce, almost intimidating strength rather than the expected softness of old age.
“Is this him, Aunt Lin?” Yan Tuo asked, noticing her shock.
Lin Xirou seemed to snap out of her daze with a startled “ah.” The blood slowly returned to her face, and her breathing became rapid. “Xiao Tuo, pour me a glass of water… quickly.”
She staggered back to sit in a nearby chair, visibly distressed. Yan Tuo quickly poured a cup of flower tea and handed it to her. Lin Xirou took the cup with trembling hands and drank it hurriedly, her usual grace in tea drinking completely absent.
Yan Tuo’s mind was racing with questions as he noticed Lin Xirou’s reaction. The old man in the photo was a relatively minor figure in Banya, not even close to the stature of the Quecha, let alone the top “Lao Jiang.” Why would Aunt Lin react so intensely to seeing his picture?
Maintaining a facade of concern, Yan Tuo tried not to reveal his suspicions. He responded to Lin Xirou’s instruction to rest, deliberately taking his time to exit. After closing the door behind him, he slowed his steps even more, peeking through the gap as Lin Xirou made a call.
“Can you send him to the farm tonight? Yes, just this person,” Lin Xirou said, her voice urgent.
—
Later that evening, at Jiang Baichuan’s house, the atmosphere was tense. The table was set with an array of delicious dishes, yet no one seemed interested in eating. Jiang Baichuan’s face was thunderous, his anger palpable as he glared at Shan Qiang. Shan Qiang, sweating and frustrated, repeatedly dialed a number without success.
Quecha, seemingly unaffected by the tension, was engrossed in a game on her phone. She was considering whether to introduce some chaos into her otherwise stable city to shake things up a bit.
After the last dish was served, Jiang Baichuan dismissed the cooking aunt and directed his frustration towards Shan Qiang. “What are you still calling for? It’s been a day—there’s a good chance something has gone wrong!”
Shan Qiang, visibly nervous, nearly dropped his phone. He carefully placed it back on the table. “It’s not the lame father’s fault…”
Jiang Baichuan’s anger flared. “I told him not to go out recently! I told him to stay here, and yet he insisted he could manage on his own. And look what’s happened!”
Shan Qiang defensively explained, “Given how badly Sister-in-law Hua was hurt, it’s understandable that he didn’t want to leave.”
Quecha perked up, intrigued. “Is there still something going on with Sister-in-law Hua and the lame father?” She had only briefly stayed in Panya and had missed some of the recent developments.
The conversation at Jiang Baichuan’s house was filled with frustration and concern. Big Head cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to defuse the tension. “Uncle Jiang, the lame father, and Sister-in-law Hua were once a couple. They were separated by fate, with one becoming a widow and the other a widower. Given their past, it’s understandable that the lame father wanted to visit Sister-in-law Hua’s grave. It’s a gesture of respect and affection, especially since he chose to go at night to avoid drawing attention. It’s just unfortunate that Yan Tuo’s people have been keeping an eye on him.”
Jiang Baichuan knew the explanation was reasonable, yet he couldn’t bring himself to commend the lame father’s actions at this moment. The situation was too fraught with complications.
Quecha, who had been absorbed in her game, paused and leaned in to ask Shan Qiang about the details of the “young couple” story. Shan Qiang explained in hushed tones, recounting the background of the lame father and Sister-in-law Hua.
“More than 20 years ago, the lame father was in his prime and deeply in love with Sister-in-law Hua. However, her family disapproved of him because he was poor and lacked prospects. Despite societal changes that supported love marriages, the lame father’s pride was wounded by their disdain. He told Sister-in-law Hua that he would make something of himself and return to marry her. Unfortunately, he had an accident, lost part of his leg, and became a cripple.
Ashamed and feeling unworthy, he cut off contact with Sister-in-law Hua, who eventually married someone else. Both of their spouses passed away over the years, and when they reunited, they were both alone. Although they did not resume their previous romance, they cared for each other deeply, living close by and maintaining a bond stronger than that of ordinary friends.”
Quecha was taken aback by this revelation. Despite her disdain for the lame father’s crude behavior, she was moved by the depth of his past relationship with Sister-in-law Hua. She couldn’t help but feel that Jiang Baichuan’s actions were unnecessarily harsh. It seemed unjust to let someone die under these circumstances just to create a more authentic scenario.
As she processed this, Jiang Baichuan’s phone beeped with a new message. He glanced at it, then addressed Quecha. “Xing Shen, they’ve arrived. Go and open the garage door to welcome them.”
The name “Xing Shen” made Quecha’s heart race with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. She sighed, masking her nervousness, and went to carry out the task with a deliberate calm.
Quecha noticed that Xing Shen didn’t come alone; he was accompanied by Lao Dao, who was his driver and caretaker. Since their trip to Qingyang had been abruptly halted and progress with Yan Tuo had stalled, Xing Shen had chosen to return to Qinba’s hinterlands to complete unfinished business. Jiang Baichuan, unable to accompany him, had dispatched Lao Dao to assist.
When Quecha went outside to open the garage door, she observed Xing Shen in the back seat of the car. Despite his blindness, he exuded a calm and composed demeanor. Beside him sat a child—a young girl, perhaps around ** years old. She was dressed in a blue and yellow sweatshirt with a hood and wore a mask, presumably due to health reasons. Quecha was puzzled about why a child would accompany Xing Shen on his errands.
As the car came to a halt, Lao Dao and Xing Shen exited and headed inside, locking the car behind them. Quecha, still bewildered, asked the child if she wouldn’t be getting out of the car. Lao Dao, with a dismissive glance, told her not to concern herself with the child. Quecha, aware of her role as Jiang Baichuan’s ornamental companion rather than a working partner, kept her questions to herself.
At the dining table, Jiang Baichuan greeted Xing Shen and Lao Dao warmly, offering them hot dishes that had yet to be served. Xing Shen requested a private conversation with Jiang Baichuan, which was anticipated given the recent events and influx of information. Jiang Baichuan excused himself, instructing the others to start eating before the food got cold.
Quecha, ever considerate, took a crisper box and filled it with a variety of dishes, preparing to offer the guests some fresh food. As she watched them ascend the stairs, she asked Shan Qiang, “How does Xing Shen manage to navigate stairs if he’s blind and doesn’t have assistance?”
Shan Qiang shrugged, uncertain of the answer. “I don’t know. He’s been blind for so long; he must have adapted in his own way.”
Big Head, munching on a cucumber segment, added with a hint of pride, “The Dog family is, of course, extraordinary in their own right.”
The conversation lingered with curiosity and admiration as they pondered over the remarkable capabilities of their guests.
Jiang Baichuan led Xing Shen to the top floor, where the view was quite pleasant despite the lack of high-rise buildings in the area. The booming new industry left him reflecting on his past choices. He mused that if he had invested in express delivery and takeaway services instead of focusing on industry, he might have fared better and avoided some financial losses.
Xing Shen cut straight to the point: “I’ve heard that the lame father can’t be reached. Is it possible that something happened to him?”
Jiang Baichuan replied, “There’s an eighty percent chance that something’s gone wrong. However, I’ve known the lame father for over thirty years. He’s a righteous and honorable man, so his disappearance isn’t a cause for major concern yet.”
“Then what about Yan Tuo? You haven’t been able to find him at all?” Xing Shen asked.
Jiang Baichuan sighed, acknowledging the difficulty. While the company, address, license plate, and phone number were all traceable, the reality was that Yan Tuo’s whereabouts seemed to have evaporated. The company operated normally, the house was empty, and the car and phone were out of service. Even “Lin Ling,” who had appeared once, was nowhere to be found.
Jiang Baichuan had previously arranged for surveillance of Yan Tuo’s associates, but they had been quickly thrown off and the license plates turned out to be fake. Yan Tuo’s vigilance was beyond his expectations. Efforts to exploit Yan Tuo’s bedridden mother had failed due to high-security measures at her care center and the infrequency of her visits.
Xing Shen expressed concern for Ah Luo, emphasizing that she was different from them, and asked if there were any arrangements made for her.
Jiang Baichuan admitted that he had made arrangements but that Ah Luo had refused them, believing she could handle things on her own. He had given her a phone for emergencies, but she was very independent.
Xing Shen felt uneasy about the situation. “If even Ah Luo can’t handle it, and your arrangements can’t help, then I should go over myself.”
Jiang Baichuan hesitated but then laughed. “Xing Shen, it’s not feasible for the two of you to go back. I’ve seen you grow up, and while you’re dedicated, it’s clear that Ah Luo is moving on. She might not be the right match for you. You deserve someone better.”
Xing Shen remained silent for a while before responding, “Uncle Jiang, you’re overthinking it. My concern is that with Hua’s sister-in-law dead and the lame father missing, Ah Luo is a clear target. I need to help her, even if it’s just to warn her or assist in some way.”
Jiang Baichuan, though dry in his response, agreed to help. “Do what you must. I’ll try to send a message, but she might refuse it. Maybe you should go yourself.”
Though initially hesitant, Jiang Baichuan reconsidered and decided it might be beneficial for Xing Shen to face the situation directly, even if it meant dealing with potential rejection. “Do what you think is best.”
Shifting topics, Jiang Baichuan asked, “How about the grasshoppers? Are they back?”
“Yes, they’re in the car. They’re doing well and are very obedient,” Xing Shen replied.
Jiang Baichuan was surprised at this. “Really? That’s interesting. Then let’s cook some ribs tonight. It seems like this little creature is adapting more like a human.”
Xing Shen smiled slightly, noting Jiang Baichuan’s unexpected lightheartedness amidst the serious discussions.