Nie Jiuluo pursed her lips lightly and brought the fire head closer to Yan Tuo’s collarbone. The intense heat was almost unbearable. Yan Tuo could barely tolerate it; his arms trembled, and the veins in his forehead and neck bulged as sweat poured down his face. Just as he felt he might collapse, Nie Jiuluo moved away and applied a cool, soft water bag to the edge of his wound.
Yan Tuo, with sweat-soaked eyelashes and barely open, saw that it was a bag of cold water—sealed to prevent leakage. He noticed several similar bags on the coffee table, along with mineral water bottles with straws inserted. The meticulous preparation showed a careful, dedicated approach to the task.
Nie Jiuluo asked, “Yan Tuo, let me ask you something.”
Yan Tuo, wincing from the pain, responded with a bitter smile, “Miss Nie, your timing is impeccable. Go ahead and ask your question. You’ve been asking since last night.”
Nie Jiuluo said, “You don’t have to answer, but if you don’t, I won’t continue the treatment. If you answer, I’ll proceed with pleasure; if not, I’ll be less inclined to continue.”
Yan Tuo’s mouth was dry, and he felt a bitter laugh rise within him. Despite the gravity of his situation, he forced himself to focus on Nie Jiuluo’s words. “Go ahead.”
Nie Jiuluo turned the water bag to a cooler side, revealing red, irritated skin beneath. “Xionghei’s group is chasing and fighting to help you, correct?”
Yan Tuo shook his head weakly. “That’s what I thought, but it seems not quite right. From the start, they’ve been very concerned about Big Head detecting dog teeth. The top one even asked about her son, giving the impression that her son was abducted.”
He was parched, his throat feeling like he was swallowing hot coals. Nie Jiuluo placed the water bag aside and handed him a bottle of mineral water with a straw. “Her son? The son of the Ground Owl?”
Yan Tuo tried to lift his arm but found it too stiff. He had to lean forward to sip from the straw. “Yes. If he is indeed the son of the Ground Owl, he remains a Ground Owl, and in the hands of the panya, he’ll be a Ground Owl even in death.”
“Grasshoppers?” Nie Jiuluo asked.
Yan Tuo shook his head. “I initially suspected him, but it doesn’t seem right. It’s more about the nature of the beast, a different path altogether.”
Nie Jiuluo put the mineral water back and resumed the treatment. “Hold on, second round.”
The fire returned, and Yan Tuo braced himself, gritting his teeth and trying to endure the agony. He focused on the water bag, mentally preparing for the moment it would return.
At the end of the second round, Yan Tuo collapsed onto the sofa, panting heavily, unsure if the tears in his eyes were from sweat or pain. His soul felt detached, hovering above him, enveloped in despair.
He managed to ask weakly, “Miss Nie, how many more rounds?”
“It’s almost… seventeen or eighteen,” Nie Jiuluo said, her tone making the second part of her answer seem grim.
Despite the slight hope raised by the first part of her answer, Yan Tuo’s spirits fell. But he continued to endure as the third round began, his resolve firm despite the pain.
Halfway through the treatment, Yan Tuo was drenched in sweat, resembling someone pulled from water. Nie Jiuluo gave him a break, using a wet towel to help him wipe down.
Remembering Sun Zhou, Yan Tuo asked, “Did you treat Sun Zhou like this?”
Nie Jiuluo snorted, revealing she hadn’t heard of Sun Zhou in a long time. She suspected he was likely imprisoned in a mental hospital, restrained and dangerous.
She returned to the topic, “Last night, you said if you could be helped to leave, you’d agree to any conditions. Is that still the case?”
At this moment, Yan Tuo had no choice but to agree. “You can make any condition.”
Nie Jiuluo responded, “You said you were a minor character, but it seems you’re significant. The top person’s dog seems worried about you. They’ve expended effort to save you and have been anxious about your safety.”
Yan Tuo, reflecting on this, said with self-deprecation, “If you’re a dog raised by someone important, even a small character is taken seriously.”
Nie Jiuluo hesitated. “Is this about ‘Aunt Lin’? Lin Xirou?”
She recalled Yan Tuo’s earlier threat to Gouya, saying, “Aunt Lin said if you’re honest, I’m here to pick up people; if not, I’m just here to transport corpses.”
Nie Jiuluo’s actions were driven by the fact that Dogtooth was not afraid of Yan Tuo directly but feared the potential consequences of Yan Tuo’s actions in front of “Aunt Lin.” Aunt Lin was a figure of significant authority, whose reputation alone could be intimidating. Nie Jiuluo had previously checked Yan Tuo’s phone and noticed numerous calls to a contact named “Lin Xirou,” which puzzled her since she believed Yan Tuo’s mother had been paralyzed for a long time. This made her reconsider the true nature of the relationship between Yan Tuo and the Ground Owl, suggesting that the tension between them might be deeper than it appeared.
Nie Jiuluo glanced at the remaining wounds to be treated and thought about the possible consequences of her actions. She noted the precision required in her task and hoped she hadn’t made any mistakes, especially given the delicate nature of her work.
Yan Tuo broke the silence, asking, “Miss Nie, what conditions do you want to offer?”
Startled by the unexpected question, Nie Jiuluo’s hands trembled, causing the water bag to fall. She quickly composed herself, maintaining a dignified posture. After a brief pause, she explained her terms: “You need to return and explain your absence, and since your injuries are obvious, it’s better to say you were injured by someone at Dogtooth’s place. They treated you to show their sincerity in making peace and allowed you to leave. Ask them what they intend to do about the lame father.”
Yan Tuo, still in pain, took a moment before looking at her. He expressed his concern about Nie Jiuluo’s involvement, noting that despite her claim of disinterest and financial constraints, her actions were significantly impacting the situation.
Nie Jiuluo, raising her eyebrows, responded, “I am still disinterested. If you don’t want to be involved, then don’t touch it. If you do, then it’s too late to back out now.”
Yan Tuo tried to convey the idea that many who believed they were skilled often found themselves in trouble, but Nie Jiuluo interrupted him, demonstrating her keen sense of control.
In the second half of the treatment, Nie Jiuluo’s skillful techniques continued to make the process torturous. Yan Tuo was tempted to ask if he could simply faint from the pain to make it easier, but Nie Jiuluo’s chilling response was that fainting would only lead to waking up in more pain, with the added risk of losing control over bodily functions.
As the treatment neared its end, Yan Tuo, completely numb from the pain and sweating profusely, noticed Nie Jiuluo using a glass cover to extinguish the fire. Relieved, he asked if it was truly over. Nie Jiuluo confirmed it was done, but Yan Tuo’s concern about whether any “buds” had been dealt with was met with confusion from her. She explained that the “buds” were actually her hair, which she had used for added pressure, intending to ensure his full cooperation.
Exhausted, Yan Tuo was too weak to respond and fell asleep almost immediately.
When he awoke, the room was bathed in the golden light of sunset. He was covered with a blanket, and Nie Jiuluo was bringing in various takeaway bags. After closing the door, the takeaway delivery person thanked her for the tip.
Nie Jiuluo placed the bags on the coffee table and informed Yan Tuo that it was time to wake up and eat. She handed him several bags and advised him to avoid getting the wounds wet, not to shower for the first three days, and to use a wet towel to clean the area if necessary. She reassured him that his head could be washed.
Yan Tuo took the clothes, which were poorly fitted with exposed pants, so he needed to change into new ones. At a glance, the clothes seemed quite complete—jacket, shirt, trousers, socks, and underwear—though not from a luxury brand, they were of top quality for what could be bought in smaller, third- or fourth-tier counties.
Nie Jiuluo was busy unbuttoning the takeaway: “I asked the delivery guy to go around the central shopping mall and find a shopping guide to match everything inside and out. It shouldn’t be too bad. You’re sweating as if you’ve been showering; you should change.”
Yan Tuo asked, “What about the money?”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t look up: “Don’t worry about it. The money is all from you, and I’ll settle the account later.”
Relieved, Yan Tuo went into the bathroom to freshen up. The size of the clothes was just right, and they fit perfectly. He stuffed all the old clothes he had taken into a bag, planning to throw them away when he was ready to leave.
After washing up, Nie Jiuluo was already eating, and the aroma filled the room. It was a simple meal—steamed noodles, a bun with vegetables, and two small servings of stir-fried rice. The taste might not have been exceptional, but Yan Tuo was so hungry that he found it extraordinary and even drank the soup.
As it was getting dark outside, Yan Tuo wiped his mouth with a tissue and said, “I’m leaving.”
Nie Jiuluo grunted and pushed his phone toward him.
Yan Tuo was surprised: “My phone?”
He took it and saw that it was turned off. Noting some scratches on the model and film, he recognized it as his own—though it no longer had the usual carbon black phone case.
Nie Jiuluo said, “I put a needle inside the case with tape. Don’t touch it unless necessary. If you see the dog’s teeth again, use it.”
Lowering her voice, she added, “Put the needle into his wound if you have to.”
Yan Tuo nodded, put away his phone, and got up.
Nie Jiuluo accompanied him to the door of the room and watched him take a few steps before suddenly recalling something: “Yan Tuo!”
Yan Tuo turned to look at her.
Nie Jiuluo said, “Remember, there’s no part of me in these things. I’m not involved.”
In the lively southern city, in a small courtyard filled with various green plants, she quietly reads, practices her craft, and creates statues suitable for exhibition. Occasionally, she socializes, gives interviews, or travels to gather styles. But there’s no part of me in all of this.
Yan Tuo asked, “You trust me that much? What if I get you involved?”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t respond. She raised her smooth, small jaw slightly and stared at him as if weighing whether to dismantle him now.
Yan Tuo chuckled, “I’m just kidding.”
As he turned to leave again, he murmured, “It’s good to be an ordinary person.”
As soon as he stepped out of the hotel, a cold breeze hit his face. Yan Tuo’s skin tightened in the chill. After adjusting his coat, he looked up at the sky. In the dark night, countless tiny snowflakes were blown by the wind. It was the 8th of December, and the heavy snow season had just begun. The snow, which hadn’t fallen two days ago, had finally arrived in a mighty, overwhelming manner.
…
June 11, 1995 / Sunday / Light Rain
The body is getting heavier and heavier. The ultrasound confirmed it’s a girl. Xiao Tuo’s name was given by the mountain, so my daughter’s name should be something that suits me.
I’ve always liked the word “pioneering.” Xiao Tuo used “extension,” but it seems best to use “open” for the second child. However, calling a girl Yan Kai sounds ugly. I decided on Yan Xin, with the nickname “Happy,” symbolizing the heart and soul of your parents.
Lately, Xiao Tuo seems closer to Shuangxiu. When I wanted to hug him, he pouted and looked unhappy. I teased him by pinching his mouth: “Xiao Tuo, my mouth is a duckling. I’ll buy you a duckling, okay?” This made him laugh, but soon after, he went back to Shuangxiu. I felt a bit jealous, but what can I do? I still have one in my stomach and lack the skills.
June 22, 1995 / Thursday / Sunny (Summer Solstice)
I went for a prenatal checkup today. Shuangxiu was supposed to accompany me, but Xiao Tuo caught a cold. He was coughing endlessly with a flushed face, which was both strange and distressing. I left Shuangxiu to care for Xiao Tuo at home and called Minjuan, asking her to take half a day off to accompany me.
Minjuan was with me, complaining all the way: “What about your husband? The child isn’t yours alone; he should be taking care of things. Why are you letting him off the hook?”
I explained that Dashan was busy with city shopping mall construction and his engineering team’s bidding. Even work in the mine had been put on hold.
I felt Minjuan was being a bit sour. She said, “Man, your husband is obviously bulging now, and those little goblins outside are greedy.”
I insisted Dashan takes care of his family well and stays home whenever he’s free. Minjuan retorted, “Of course, with such a beautiful little nanny at home.”
I was outraged by her insinuations and left her behind. I couldn’t believe a good friend would speak so critically.
On my way home, I passed by the vegetable market and decided to buy pears to make rock sugar water for Xiao Tuo. Unexpectedly, I encountered Changxi. He had just bought fish but realized he didn’t have enough money. The stall owner was angry and scolded him loudly. Changxi, looking like a stake, was red-faced from the scolding.
I couldn’t stand it, so I paid the stall owner and scolded him in return. Changxi was scared and kept dragging me away, afraid that the stall owner might hit me. I wasn’t afraid and said, “Try me if you dare!”
Changxi sent me home, and along the way, I felt he had something to say. I asked him if he needed to borrow money and encouraged him to speak up.
Changxi hesitated before saying, “Sister Lin, you should… quit your little nanny.”
I was shocked and nervous, asking, “Is Shuangxiu mistreating my Xiao Tuo?”
Changxi shook his head quickly and said, “You don’t know. It’s rumored outside…”
He glanced at my stomach but didn’t elaborate. I chased after him, but he ran away. I feared there might be something troubling, but I didn’t want to ask Minjuan directly.
When I got home, I cautiously opened the door, feeling like a thief. To my relief, Dashan hadn’t been home for the past two days, so there was nothing to catch.
The door to Xiao Tuo’s room wasn’t closed, and I sneaked over. I saw Xiao Tuo lying on the bed while Shuangxiu read him mythological stories. It seemed like the stories were praising the father day by day.
“Father Kua said nothing could stop him from bringing the sun back to everyone.”
He faced many dangers and eventually collapsed. Yet, he wasn’t reconciled and dug forward with his fingers, even as the blood dripped and his bones were exposed. Still, he picked up…”
Children’s books these days seem so scary compared to when I was young. I heard Xiao Tuo ask, “Aren’t the father’s hands broken?”
Shuangxiu replied, “Yes, he didn’t succeed until he died. He even lost three fingers. How miserable.”
Xiao Tuo tucked his face and counted his fingers as if in pain.
I laughed at the scene.
[Lin Xirou’s Diary, Excerpts]
