The drive back to Xi’an would normally take two days, but with matters weighing on his mind preventing full concentration, Yan Tuo stretched it to three.
On the second evening, the car entered Shaanxi Province. On the map, Shaanxi’s outline resembled a kneeling terracotta warrior. Yan Tuo felt he had entered through the warrior’s toes, heading toward his destination in the pelvic region.
The highway was both busy and lonely—busy with endless streams of vehicles, lonely for those driving alone. He followed the navigation, occasionally glancing up at the directional signs at highway splits.
During one of these glances, he noticed a sign pointing to: Yutang County (62km).
Yutang County.
Something stirred in Yan Tuo’s heart, and before he could fully decide whether to make the trip, his steering wheel was already turning in that direction.
***
Around eight in the evening, Yan Tuo’s car climbed Lao Niutou Ridge.
This was where his father, Yan Haishan, had first established himself—his first coal mine.
Now it was as desolate as a graveyard. Not just the mine, but the entire Lao Niutou Ridge was abandoned, easily reminiscent of the American Gold Rush—when prospectors came, followed by saloons, restaurants, prostitutes, and various supporting facilities, a small city arose, but when the gold ran out, the crowds retreated, leaving only desolate abandoned mines.
The closure of Lao Niutou Ridge’s coal mine wasn’t because the coal was exhausted, but because mining was no longer economically viable. Later, as the de-capacity policy for coal production deepened, coal mines were eliminated in large numbers, leaving more and more abandoned mine shafts. Yan Tuo had read related reports—by 2020, there were about 12,000 abandoned coal mines in China. The whole world was discussing the resource utilization of abandoned mines, some suggesting industrial tourism, others proposing underground hospitals or deep earth science laboratories. While these discussions were lively, such excitement would never reach a small place like Lao Niutou Ridge.
The iron gate to the compound was closed, its bars rusty and dust-covered. The iron slogan plate at the top hadn’t completely rotted away, with three characters remaining—”High,” “Shift,” and “Home”—jutting toward the sky.
“Happily go to work, safely return home.”
Yan Tuo sat in his car, staring absently at the iron gate. Though people couldn’t enter, car lights could penetrate from afar, illuminating the flat ground behind the gate.
Initially, Yan Haishan had ridden a Flying Pigeon bicycle through this iron gate daily. His mother had also frequently come and gone here. Even Yan Tuo had vague memories of the place: learning to walk on that flat ground behind the gate, tottering unsteadily, miners gathered around cheering “Little Tuo, keep going,” Uncle Chang Xi holding a lollipop like a carrot before a donkey, leading him step by step forward.
Of course, the woman who would later become his “Aunt Lin” was there too.
Yan Tuo turned the car around. As the headlights turned, the mining site darkened, and soon Lao Niutou Ridge sank into darkness, like a grave hiding secrets.
***
The car entered Yutang County town.
The county town was no longer its old self—streets, high-rises, and commercial districts were all newly built, too new for anyone seeking nostalgia.
Yan Tuo parked by the roadside and walked into a food street.
At the entrance was a shop called “Chang Xi’s Sour Soup Dumplings.”
Yan Tuo lifted the curtain and entered. The shop wasn’t large but was clean and tidy. Though past regular meal times, it was still about seventy percent full.
Liu Chang Xi, the owner, stood behind the cashier, head down in concentration, not even noticing the new customer, probably doing accounts.
Yan Tuo went over and tapped the counter: “One bowl of sour soup dumplings, pork, and cabbage.”
Liu Chang Xi hurriedly looked up: “Oh, okay, please sit inside… Little Tuo?”
Yan Tuo smiled, watching Uncle Chang Xi’s surprised and delighted face. Uncle Chang Xi had aged, his temples graying, though not yet fifty.
Liu Chang Xi was overjoyed, staring at Yan Tuo repeatedly: “My, you’ve grown taller.”
Yan Tuo: “How could that be? I was this tall last time.”
His last visit was two or three years ago, at an age when he couldn’t really “shoot up” anymore, but Liu Chang Xi still felt Yan Tuo had grown bigger somehow. Perhaps it was because he had aged and shrunk. His lips trembled for a while before adding: “You look more like a man now.”
***
Shortly after Yan Tuo sat down, the sour soup dumplings arrived, along with several cold dishes and an iced Feng soda.
Liu Chang Xi left the business to his staff to accompany him: “Staying this time?”
Yan Tuo picked up a dumpling and ate it: “No, just passing through.”
He looked around the shop: “Business is good.”
Liu Chang Xi smiled, his face full of wrinkles: “Yes, you know, before I was just a street vendor, always being chased away, suffering. Much more comfortable after getting to this place. You won’t believe it…”
He lowered his voice and made an “eight” gesture with his fingers: “Made over eighty thousand in net profit so far this year.”
Yan Tuo nodded: “That’s good, nice to be stable now. Uncle Chang Xi, you should find someone, and live a good life.”
Liu Chang Xi froze.
At that moment, he felt the passage of time most keenly: this little kid, who seemed just recently to have sticky hands from lollipops, crying for him to “wash hands” with soap, was now maturely advising him to “find someone and live a good life.”
Liu Chang Xi laughed it off: “I’m an old man now, who would I find?”
Yan Tuo lowered his head to get more dumplings: “Don’t wait for my mom anymore, she won’t wake up. Besides, even if she could wake up, her heart is full of my dad.”
Liu Chang Xi was caught off guard, frozen in place.
He felt extremely awkward, the secret he had kept for years was suddenly torn open and laid bare. He didn’t know how to respond, but fortunately, Yan Tuo was considerate—he kept his head down eating dumplings, occasionally sipping soup, never looking up to meet his eyes, giving him time to compose himself.
Liu Chang Xi swallowed hard, watching Yan Tuo’s crown and his shoulders moving slightly as he ate. When his face was less stiff, he asked casually: “How’s your mom doing lately?”
Yan Tuo finished eating and wiped his mouth with a napkin: “Same as always. The doctor says if they let her choose, she might prefer to die quickly rather than linger like this. I’m done, Uncle Chang Xi. I’m taking advantage of you—I won’t pay.”
Liu Chang Xi smiled perfunctorily: “What payment?”
When he saw Yan Tuo getting up to leave, he finally reacted: “Leaving already?”
Yan Tuo: “Yes, told you I was just passing through.”
Liu Chang Xi hurriedly got up to see him off. At the door, he was stopped by staff asking about something, and couldn’t see him out. He could only call out to Yan Tuo’s back: “Give my regards to your mom!”
Yan Tuo didn’t turn around, just raised his hand above his head in acknowledgment, meaning: I know.
***
Because of Liu Chang Xi’s message, when the car entered Xi’an the next noon, Yan Tuo visited the care facility.
This was a highly private and upscale care/rehabilitation facility for vegetative patients. Previously, they used card access for visits, but after someone stole a client membership card to sneak in, they changed to card plus fingerprint access.
Yan Tuo hadn’t come for over half a year, partly because after downloading the facility’s app, he had 24-hour monitoring and could look whenever he wanted, and partly because no matter how many times he came, she just lay there unchanged, nothing different to see.
But most importantly, he didn’t want to come.
Each visit was too depressing.
***
His mother, Lin Xirou, stayed in the facility’s room with the best lighting and relative quiet.
When he pushed open the door, two nurses were giving Lin Xirou a muscle massage to prevent atrophy, though her muscles had already atrophied—after over twenty years bedridden, no amount of “passive exercise” could match the activity level of a normal person.
Yan Tuo had seen photos of his mother from years ago—bright-eyed and white-toothed, plump and beautiful. Now she was shrunken and small, unable to swallow, requiring a nasogastric tube for liquid food, yellow-skinned and thin, head shaved, looking both pitiful and absurd.
The nurses knew him and his habits: “Then… Mr. Yan, shall we step out?”
Yan Tuo nodded and added: “Bring some cotton swabs and saline, I’ll brush my mom’s teeth.”
The last time he came, he had patted her back to prevent bedsores. This time he’d brush her teeth. Coming here, he couldn’t just stare—he had to do something.
The nurses quickly brought what he needed on a tray.
Yan Tuo put on a medical mask, pulled the chair close to the bed, placed folded tissue under his face, then adjusted the oral light to a suitable position and turned it on. One hand supported Lin Xirou’s face while the other held a cotton swab dipped in saline, carefully cleaning each tooth with patience.
Due to a long-term lack of chewing, her jaw muscles were stiff, making it difficult to open her mouth.
Even though nurses cleaned morning and night, the odor in her mouth was far stronger than normal, noticeable even through the mask.
And the face he cradled in his palm was unconscious, frighteningly light, completely passive.
***
When he finished, the sunlight outside was intense, with a beam falling softly and gently on the bedding.
Yan Tuo stared at that beam of light until a message came on his phone.
It was from Lin Ling: Almost back? Aunt Lin asked me to check where you are.
Yan Tuo replied with two words: Almost there.
After replying, he sat for a few more seconds, then got up to return the chair and walked toward the door.
As he opened it, he couldn’t help looking back once.
At the woman lying in bed.
The woman who had lost her life, love, family, even her name… all stolen away.
***
It was already afternoon when he returned to the villa.
Usually, the villa was somewhat noisy, as it was Xiong Hei’s property. He was in charge of company security, had extensive connections, and was generous with money, making the place less like a residence and more like a club where friends gathered to play cards, drink, and socialize.
Yan Tuo and the others used the private elevator at the back entrance. In other words, the first and second floors of the villa were semi-public, while the third and fourth floors were private living spaces, separated by security doors—to outsiders, Xiong Hei only said that severely ill relatives lived upstairs needing quiet rest. Visitors were tactful and never curious to peek.
However, today the entire building was quiet. When Yan Tuo entered the elevator, he didn’t hear any noise.
Most likely Xiong Hei wasn’t around, which was unusual—he typically stayed close to Lin Xirou.
Yan Tuo went to the third floor first.
Lin Ling was making a dollhouse in the small living room by the elevator. Hearing the sound, she looked up as Yan Tuo entered.
“Xiong Hei isn’t here?”
“Haven’t seen him for two days. I called the farm, he’s not there either.”
Then he must have been sent to do something else.
Yan Tuo’s gaze swept over the nearly completed dollhouse on the coffee table—pink-themed, very girlish, with small tables, chairs, and a dressing table. Did all girls like such dreamy styles?
Nie Jiuluo certainly didn’t—the sculptures in her studio ranged from extremely beautiful to grotesquely ugly, but none were cute and lively.
He lowered his voice: “How are you doing? Still, sleeping normally? Did you buy the cameras?”
The villa had surveillance, but it was mainly external, for preventing outside thieves—living spaces didn’t have any.
Lin Ling nodded: “Bought them, nothing happened.”
That’s good. Yan Tuo comforted her: “Maybe you were just dreaming.”
Hopefully. Lin Ling jerked her chin toward the outer room: “Aunt Lin asked you to see her as soon as you got back.”
***
Lin Xirou’s door was closed. Yan Tuo knocked: “Aunt Lin, it’s me.”
“Come in.”
Yan Tuo pushed open the door. Lin Xirou was on the phone and gestured for him to wait.
He couldn’t hear the conversation content—Lin Xirou only said simple words like “mm,” “okay,” “that’s it,” and “send me a photo”—but from her expression, he could tell she was in a good mood.
Business matters rarely made her beam with joy anymore. Yan Tuo’s heart jumped: could there be leads in Ban Ya’s investigation?
This wouldn’t be good news for him—just one witness would destroy all his lies.
Putting down the phone, Lin Xirou looked at Yan Tuo: “Finally back. For such a small matter of medicinal herbs, why bother going yourself…”
Midway through speaking, her expression suddenly changed: “What happened to your neck?”
She reached out to touch it as she spoke.
The wound on his neck had mostly healed, but the teeth marks wouldn’t fade so quickly. Yan Tuo uncomfortably avoided her touch: “Nothing, just met a crazy person…”
Lin Xirou wasn’t as easy to fool as Lin Ling: “It was a woman, wasn’t it?”
“Mm.”
Lin Xirou frowned: “Little Tuo, you should find a proper girlfriend, stop getting involved with these questionable people. Last time it was Miss Nie, who you abandoned in the mountains, and now after just a few days away, you’ve found another who bites. Can’t you date normal people?”
Yan Tuo: “I’ll… be careful next time.”
He quickly changed the subject: “Aunt Lin, you seem in a good mood—good news?”
Lin Xirou was quite emotional: “Yes.”
“Related to Ban Ya?”
Lin Xirou neither confirmed nor denied, but from her expression, he was probably right.
Strange. Lin Xirou placed extreme importance on “Ban Ya.” Yan Tuo had an intuition: this wasn’t merely because he and Dog Tooth had suffered there.
“Wasn’t it said that the trail went cold at Ban Ya, that no one could be found?”
Lin Xirou smiled gracefully: “Little Tuo, don’t worry about this. I’ve always regretted involving you in this matter, and making you suffer so much. Don’t worry, those who harmed you—Aunt Lin will make them pay back double.”
Yan Tuo was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled: “I understand, Aunt Lin. I’m useless—the one time I try to help you with something, I mess it up this badly, causing so many problems that need cleaning up. You’re already being kind by not scolding me.”
Lin Xirou was startled, feeling he had misunderstood: “No, Little Tuo…”
Yan Tuo reached for the door: “I understand everything, Aunt Lin. You don’t need to comfort me.”