Nie Jiuluo chose the most direct route from Tasi to Shihe, believing it to be the quickest. As she departed, her uncle, Nie Dongyang, drove her to the station. Glancing out the window at the rapidly changing scenery, she was reminded of the transient nature of her departure.
Nie Dongyang commented, “Feeling reluctant, huh? There’s no need to be sad. In fact, leaving and letting go of some attachment to your hometown might be beneficial.”
Nie Jiuluo, absorbed in her phone, replied, “Uncle, I’ll transfer the money to you. Please give me the payment code.”
Nie Dongyang waved it off, “Don’t worry about the small amount. You can pay next time.”
Despite his dismissal, Nie Jiuluo insisted, “If you want to transfer, do it now. I’m not coming back.”
***
When Nie Jiuluo arrived in Shihe County again, the weather had shifted from late summer to early winter within just under two months. Realizing she hadn’t packed enough winter clothes, she ordered several items on the road and instructed the seller to send them via express mail.
With only two days left before the 8th, Nie Jiuluo spent most of her time reading in the hotel, ignoring the progress of Jiang Baichuan’s situation. Her sole focus was to reach her destination on time and complete her tasks without getting involved in the details.
That night, after hours of reading, her eyes felt too dry to continue. Rubbing them, she looked out the window and saw countless tiny white particles being blown by the wind, reflecting the warm light from inside.
Snow was falling.
It was the right time for snow, so Nie Jiuluo opened the window to let the cold air in. Despite the chill, the warmth from the air conditioner made the cold feel refreshingly crisp.
The snow was light, so there was no need for an umbrella. A man stood by a newly arrived car, patiently brushing the snowflakes off his coat with deliberate movements as if enjoying a private moment.
Nie Jiuluo thought to herself, “What a coincidence.”
It was Yan Tuo. Although the hotel was the only high-end one in Shihe County and they had stayed there before, seeing him again felt too coincidental.
After brushing off the snow, Yan Tuo looked up at the hotel building. Nie Jiuluo stayed still, thinking that moving might attract attention. However, with so many windows in the hotel, he might not notice her. Even if he did, he would probably just think she was another guest.
For a moment, Nie Jiuluo had an uneasy feeling that Yan Tuo might have seen her.
***
As the snow began to wane and seemed unlikely to continue, Nie Jiuluo closed the window. Before going to bed, she wrote her usual three things about the day, which felt uneventful. The only notable entry was, “Yan Tuo is here again, but he didn’t see me,” with a question mark added out of curiosity.
After recording her thoughts, she was about to toss a star into her suitcase when the hotel phone rang.
She picked up the phone and heard Yan Tuo’s voice, “Miss Nie, do you have time to meet and talk?”
Nie Jiuluo froze initially but soon sat up in bed and replied, “Yan Tuo, don’t you understand what ‘Liangqing’ means?”
Yan Tuo responded, “I understand. From that day on, everyone is a stranger. But starting from scratch means there are infinite possibilities. As long as we share common interests, we can still talk, right?”
Nie Jiuluo retorted, “I don’t know you well, don’t share common interests with you, and you’re not welcome to call me.”
As she was about to hang up, Yan Tuo said, “I saw the dog’s teeth.”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart skipped a beat.
Yan Tuo continued, “He hasn’t woken up yet, but he’s recovering well. I was told he should be able to climb over the wall in a month or two. Miss Nie, if you don’t welcome my calls, I won’t bother you. However, I invite you to visit anytime, whether by phone or in person. I’m in room 406.”
Yan Tuo’s mention of the dog’s recovery suggested that their dialogue could continue, depending on the dog’s condition. The situation between them had evolved into a complicated affair, with various stakeholders involved. Despite the stormy past, the dog’s recovery represented a potential bridge for future interactions.
Big decisions require careful consideration. Should she go and talk to him?
Nie Jiuluo lifted her quilt, pondered the situation, and then settled back down. Yan Tuo had likely anticipated her visit and would be waiting at the door, so she decided not to go and let him wait all night if necessary. Since he had called her first and seemed more anxious than she was, why should she be the one to worry? With that thought, she turned off the light and went to sleep.
***
The next morning, Nie Jiuluo rose early, freshened up, and headed to the restaurant for breakfast. The snow had stopped, and the day was pleasantly sunny. She grabbed her meal, chose a seat by the window, and sat down. Sunlight streamed through the bright window pane, casting a warm, dazzling spot of light on her table.
Yan Tuo approached with a plate and took a seat across from her. Nie Jiuluo glanced up at him.
Yan Tuo, aware of her likely reserved demeanor in public, remained untroubled. He suggested, “Their bean paste buns are excellent; the filling is very fine.”
Nie Jiuluo, however, was not interested in small talk. “I don’t have time for chit-chat; let’s get down to business.”
Yan Tuo, though intending only to warm up the conversation out of politeness, found her lack of interest surprising. He moved straight to the point. “Miss Nie, your companion is missing, and you seem indifferent.”
Companion? Oh, he must mean her lame father.
Nie Jiuluo replied, “Those are not my companions; I don’t have any.”
Yan Tuo looked at her and said, “I claim to be an ordinary person, uninterested in these matters, but I keep seeing you whenever something happens. What role are you playing in all of this?”
Nie Jiuluo tossed the question back at him. “And you? What kind of character are you? Did you do a lot of work when my father was kidnapped?”
Yan Tuo was silent for a moment before responding, “Believe it or not, I’m just a minor character. I don’t know about the kidnapping; I don’t judge or see it—that’s the role I play.”
Nie Jiuluo remarked, “That sounds strange and a bit aggrieved, but if you’re a minor player, your heart doesn’t seem small. It seems you’re planning something in secret.”
Yan Tuo readily admitted, “Yes, it’s a private matter. I don’t know you well, so I won’t go into details. But I’ve heard you owe a lot of money to the people of Banya?”
Nie Jiuluo was slightly surprised, recalling that Yan Tuo had overheard their conversation during the ride to Jiang Baichuan. She didn’t hide it. “They’re short of people, and I happen to be someone with money and debts to them. If needed, I can help.”
Yan Tuo had seen her skills and regarded her as a “talent.” “So, you help with tasks and pay off debts?”
“Yes, and once it’s over, it’s over.”
Yan Tuo noted her casual use of “Liangqing,” as though relationships were disposable. He thought she was being naïve. “Miss Nie, dealing with money and debts is risky—like this time, if I hadn’t intervened, you might have been in trouble.”
Nie Jiuluo responded, “This is my private matter. I don’t know you well enough to explain.”
Yan Tuo felt that both of them were probing each other’s boundaries and touching on sensitive issues. Yet, their relationship as strangers allowed for a bit of exploration.
Switching to business, Yan Tuo said, “Last time, the Dogtooth group wanted to check you out, but you were lucky to avoid them. If you encounter them again, try to stay undercover. If you’re exposed, it could cause trouble for me.”
Nie Jiuluo assured him, “Don’t worry, I handle my side jobs discreetly, so I won’t be showing my face. My last appearance in front of you was purely accidental.”
Yan Tuo felt relieved. “Good. If you have any secret methods to keep him asleep, I can help. Helping you is also helping myself.”
Nie Jiuluo considered it. “Expose him to the sun; it should be fine.”
Yan Tuo was puzzled by her suggestion. “Doesn’t ‘secret’ imply more than just sunlight? Dogtooth isn’t like a sweet potato that you can just leave in the sun.”
“Use natural fire on his wounds too.”
Yan Tuo had to remind her, “Miss Nie, be discreet. I can only make minor adjustments and act quickly.”
Nie Jiuluo studied him for a moment, assessing his reliability. Finally, she said, “I’ll think of a way and let you know.”
Yan Tuo was relieved that she had a plan, though she was cautious. He didn’t press further. “Miss Nie, add me as a friend on a burner account to make communication easier.”
Nie Jiuluo asked, “Do you have an account?”
“I saw it on your phone last time and found it useful, so I signed up.”
Nie Jiuluo considered it. Despite their not being closely connected, their previous small collaborations necessitated discretion, so she agreed to the exchange. They scanned each other’s phones under the bright sun, each one deleting the software and contact records.
Nie Jiuluo had always felt that such software was meant for those operating in the shadows or for unsavory characters. She had only used it sparingly and never intended to add anyone beyond the necessary contacts.
With their phones cleared, it was clear that their relationship could indeed start fresh, but the direction of their interactions remained unpredictable.
Putting her phone away, Nie Jiuluo asked, “What’s your role in this hostage situation?”
Yan Tuo replied, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll likely receive a location later on to pick up the person, just like last time.”
“Last time?” Nie Jiuluo’s interest was piqued. “Did you go to pick up the Dogtooth group?”
“Yes,” Yan Tuo confirmed. “They provided a location before heading into the mountains, saying if something happened or if anyone was separated and unreachable by phone, we should wait there.”
“Set in Xingbazi Township?” Nie Jiuluo inquired.
Yan Tuo shook his head. “A whole township is too broad. It was set in a ruined temple west of Xingbazi Township. When I arrived, the temple was empty, but there was a herringbone ladder, a camera, and a toolbox. I looked through the camera and saw it was filled with sculptures. I figured someone might be working there, so I went out to search.”
Nie Jiuluo recalled that on the same day, she had been in a hurry, heading east of the township to find a public toilet. She had seen a white off-road vehicle on the way and had been curious about its owner. She had studied the vehicle’s details, and now it felt unsettling.
Why was the pick-up location set in the ruined temple? Was the place significant or did it have special meaning related to Xingbazi Township?
Nie Jiuluo remembered the story told by Lao Qian, the driver—a tale of a little daughter-in-law. The story seemed like a rural anecdote she had brushed off, but now it took on a new light.
The little daughter-in-law, dressed in mismatched clothes, seemed like she had taken garments from the dead.
She had been burned by heavenly fire, a fate that should have led to her death, but she survived for a year.
She devoured the dead.
The old hexagram said her origin was in the swamp, with her mouth filled by molten iron.
Many characteristics of this little daughter-in-law resembled the ground owl. However, at the time, the belief that “the earth owl is a beast, not a human” had clouded her judgment.
Yan Tuo’s mention of “entering the mountain” triggered another thought. Nie Jiuluo asked, “What are they doing in the mountains?”
Not long ago, Xing Shen and others had encountered two abandoned tents in Qingyang, with supplies and clothing left behind. The only thing missing was the people.
Were these tents used by Dogtooth’s accomplices? It seemed unlikely they would leave equipment behind. Or perhaps the people inside had been captured by Dogtooth’s allies?
Yan Tuo responded, “I’m not involved in the mountains, so I don’t know what’s happening there. What about you? What are you being assigned to do this time?”
Nie Jiuluo said, “I’m still waiting for instructions. I’ll follow the arrangements from the Banya side.”
Yan Tuo’s mood grew colder, and for the first time, he was at a loss for words. He was still contemplating how to respond.
Nie Jiuluo cleared her throat. “Is everything alright? The reason everyone burns their contact records immediately is to avoid leaving any trace. I think we can skip these public meetings.”
Yan Tuo, hearing her, understood the need for discretion. “Even if we meet, we should keep things low-profile.”