At two in the morning, Yan Tuo’s car entered the rural road. In just over fifteen minutes, they would reach the plantation.
Lin Xirou sat in the back seat. For this trip, she could only have Yan Tuo drive her—Xiong Hei wasn’t around, and neither were any of his capable subordinates. For a midnight journey, she couldn’t just bring along any random person.
The car jolted—that was the problem with rural roads, poor maintenance.
Lin Xirou snapped out of her daze, “Xiao Tuo, are you tired? Drive slower if you are.”
Yan Tuo remained silent. Indeed, Lin Xirou was just making conversation; after speaking, she drifted back into her previous absent-minded state.
The plantation was pitch black, with only a faint white light coming from the guard room at the main entrance. However, Yan Tuo didn’t enter through the front gate. He drove around to the back gate, honking twice as they approached.
A shadow moved near the gate, and soon the stainless steel electric sliding gate moved sideways.
Yan Tuo drove straight to the main building. A side door on the first floor was open, light spilling out, with Xiong Hei waiting there.
Lin Xirou got out of the car and hurried toward him, her high heels clicking, the corners of her windbreaker swaying. Yan Tuo sat quietly in the driver’s seat, neither moving nor speaking.
Only when she reached the side door did Lin Xirou remember him, turning back to call, “Xiao Tuo, come on.”
Yan Tuo responded, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out.
Lin Xirou smiled wryly at Xiong Hei, “This child is too well-behaved. If you don’t call him, he won’t move. In the middle of the night, did I expect to leave him alone in the car?”
Xiong Hei glanced sideways at Yan Tuo approaching them, his lip curling in contempt, “This is beyond well-behaved—it’s excessive.”
He wanted to make more sarcastic remarks, but seeing Lin Xirou’s displeasure, he wisely held his tongue. There’s a common internet saying that only women can spot a cheap woman; similarly, he wanted to say, that only men can have the discerning eye to spot a cheap man.
Lin Xirou had been raising this adopted son for too long—she saw flowers wherever she looked.
Yan Tuo, well-behaved? Although Xiong Hei had never caught him misbehaving, he never believed this person was truly docile.
Yan Tuo followed Lin Xirou and Xiong Hei down to the underground level.
Truthfully, he missed the time more than ten years ago when technology wasn’t so advanced when there weren’t so many cameras and modern sensing equipment inside and out. Back then, he could manage to sneak in and out of this underground second floor a few times. Now it was impossible. You never knew how many electronic eyes were installed everywhere, with voice control and temperature sensors. Unless there was a power and network outage, he wouldn’t dare try to sneak in.
Moreover, after continuous improvements, this underground facility was no longer the crude setup it once was. Every section had stainless steel doors with blast-proof glass. Entry required regularly updated passwords plus fingerprint verification. More importantly, from the surface, it appeared completely normal—just a heavily secured storage and light-controlled cultivation facility.
Xiong Hei led them to a small room.
The rooms here were soundproof. Even if someone was arguing inside, you couldn’t hear it outside. Despite this, standing at the door, they could still hear the “thump thump” of things being thrown around.
Xiong Hei sneered, “Trashing the room, is he?”
Lin Xirou frowned, “You didn’t tie him up?”
“No, let the old man vent first, waste some energy. The room can take it—the table and chairs are sturdy, they won’t break. If you ask me, he’s really stupid. There’s no one even watching him, what’s he fighting against?”
Xiong Hei waited a bit longer at the door before entering the password and pushing it open.
Father Que had already heard the electronic sound at the door. He gathered his strength, raised his crutch high, and swung it down toward the doorway: “Is there no justice? You dare kidnap me…”
Though Father Que was fierce, he was nothing compared to the tower-like Xiong Hei, who caught the crutch with one hand and kicked out, sending Father Que crashing into the opposite wall. He cursed and threw the wooden crutch to the ground: “Quite the temper.”
The impact nearly knocked the breath out of Father Que. Sitting on the ground, he raised his eyes fiercely, his gaze moving past Xiong Hei and Lin Xirou to fix on Yan Tuo standing at the back. His eyes instantly turned bloodshot, his face contorting: “Damn it, you’re the ones who set the fire!”
Being kidnapped, he had suspected Yan Tuo’s accomplices but couldn’t be certain without concrete evidence. Now, seeing Yan Tuo’s face, he had no more doubts.
He roared and lunged toward the door, momentarily forgetting his missing leg. He fell heavily to the ground, but this didn’t diminish his fighting spirit. Using his hands, foot, and remaining knee, he desperately crawled forward.
Lin Xirou stood motionless, watching him coldly. Yan Tuo lowered his eyes, his gaze drifting aside—as he’d said before, these people had wronged him, and while he felt no goodwill toward them, he didn’t wish to see them end up too miserable.
Xiong Hei bent down, grabbing Father Que’s neck with one hand and his amputated leg with the other, lifting him like an eagle snatching a chick: “Old man, settle down.”
As he spoke, he threw Father Que into a chair, handcuffed his hands behind him to the chair back, and then turned to Lin Xirou: “Sister Lin, is this okay?”
Lin Xirou smiled, “Fine, you all can go now.”
Once Yan Tuo left the room and the door closed, he couldn’t hear anything.
He had worried earlier that Father Que might expose his lies, but now he was less concerned. Judging by Lin Xirou’s reaction, the Ban Ya Village incident was already irrelevant—she wanted to discuss “old matters.”
Xiong Hei smiled at Yan Tuo, “Shall we go to the break room for a drink?”
He had no grievance with Yan Tuo, so he maintained a cordial appearance.
Yan Tuo asked, “How is Gouya’s injury healing? Could I see him?”
Xiong Hei hesitated for a moment, then agreed readily, “Alright, follow me.”
…
Xiong Hei led Yan Tuo to a cultivation room, walking to the farthest corner where he pulled aside a long “Operation Guidelines” poster on the wall, revealing a small door. They squeezed through into a room less than ten square meters.
In the center of the room was a circular pool about two meters in diameter, with cement walls for holding water. The pool was nearly full to the brim with thick, muddy water. Gouya floated face-down in the murky, foul-smelling pool water like a corpse.
Standing at the pool’s edge, Yan Tuo fought back nausea and said, “I’ve always wondered how you all heal so quickly… This treatment method is unique.”
A long bamboo pole with a rake stood against the wall. Xiong Hei grabbed it, hooked it around Gouya’s neck, and pulled, turning him over.
Gouya’s eyes were tightly closed, his mud-covered face pale and swollen, but Yan Tuo could see clearly: the left eye which should have been a bloody hole showed no sign of injury. If anything was different, it was that the newly grown eyelid and flesh around the wound were slightly pinker.
He murmured, “Impressive.”
Xiong Hei glanced at him, “Envious?”
“Yes,” Yan Tuo crouched down, his blurry reflection rippling in the murky pool water. “I’ve grown up beside Aunt Lin, and I’ve known you all for seven or eight years. I’m not stupid—after spending so much time together, of course, I can see that you’re all different. These past few years, Aunt Lin has barely appeared in public, probably afraid acquaintances might notice she hasn’t aged. In a few more years, she’ll likely have to move again.”
“We’re all human, so how come you have such abilities? It would be a lie to say I’m not envious. Brother Xiong, with such a wonderful method, couldn’t you let me benefit from it too? Who doesn’t want eternal youth? They say women fear aging, but men do too.”
Xiong Hei burst out laughing. He crouched beside Yan Tuo and stirred the pool water as if watching fish: “I knew it! You’ve been trying so hard to impress Sister Lin, doing everything just right—you have ulterior motives.”
Yan Tuo smiled faintly, “Everyone aims high, right? Gouya can regrow a lost eyeball—with abilities like that, I could own the world. Think about it—if Aunt Lin’s secret to eternal youth could be developed and commercialized even a little, there’d be enough money to last ten lifetimes.”
He turned to look at Xiong Hei, “Aunt Lin treats me well, but in these matters, she still considers me an outsider. Take your trip to Qin Ba Mountains in August—I was just the driver and errand boy. Brother Xiong, could you help guide me? What should I do to make Aunt Lin fully accept me?”
He pressed two fingers to his chest, “From the bottom of my heart, I mean every word.”
Xiong Hei made a dismissive sound, “It’s not that simple. You can’t do it—you’re not even the same…”
He suddenly realized he’d slipped up and stopped abruptly. Looking toward the small door, he awkwardly changed the subject, “Hey, wonder how Sister Lin’s chat with that old man is going…”
Father Que was completely bewildered.
All the men had left, leaving just this young, beautiful woman facing him—what for? He was already one foot in the grave; did they think he’d fall for the beauty trap?
He was furious but couldn’t break free from his restraints. His half-leg was free but frustratingly useless. Moreover, the woman kept staring at him. A few glances were fine, but after a while, it became unnerving.
Father Que stiffened his neck, shouting to bolster his courage, “What the hell are you staring at? Get your boss to talk to me!”
Lin Xirou smiled, “Don’t you recognize me?”
Father Que was stunned, carefully examining Lin Xirou again.
What an absurd joke—how could he possibly know her? A face like hers would be impossible to forget.
He frowned, “You know me?”
Seeing Lin Xirou’s silent confirmation, he grew more confused, “From when?”
Lin Xirou said, “Let me give you a hint—between late ’91 and early ’92.”
Father Que dismissed it as nonsense, “Little girl, in ’91-’92, you probably weren’t even born yet. You’re too green to try fooling your old Father Que!”
Lin Xirou smiled, “Don’t remember? Here’s another hint—back then, you were underground.”
Father Que suddenly shuddered. He had been slouching in the chair, but now his back went cold and he gradually sat up straight, “How do you know that? Did your… superior tell you?”
Superior? What fucking superior.
Lin Xirou burst into laughter. As she laughed, she stood up, hands pressing on the table edge, leaning toward Father Que. Then, word by word, her smile slowly fading: “Even now? You still can’t remember? How did you lose that leg?”
Father Que felt instant chills down to his bones, even his amputated leg throbbing and burning, “You… how do you know? Who are you?”
Who am I?
Lin Xirou said, “Why are you asking about me? I should be asking you—where is my son?”
Her eyes gradually turned bloodshot, rage surging in her chest. Staring at Father Que’s wrinkled old face, she suddenly opened her mouth wide, letting out a piercing shriek.
Beautiful women are usually beautiful even when crying, like pear blossoms in the rain. But when they become ferocious—even the most beautiful faces distort, features shifting.
Moreover, Father Que saw that under Lin Xirou’s curling tongue, like an animal’s bristling fur, arose rows of short spines, black and white alternating—the kind you’d only see on a porcupine.
November 26, 1993 / Friday / Sunny
Haven’t written in my diary for a long time. When I took out the notebook, the pages had turned yellow.
It’s not my fault. Once you become a mother, time isn’t your own anymore. Days fly by in a blur, and I don’t even know where they go. They say “A wife makes you forget your mother,” but I’d say “A son makes you forget your lover.” I can barely remember what Da Shan looks like anymore.
I have time today, so I’ll write more.
The most important thing this past year was having Xiao Tuo. My son is so well-behaved, truly an angel. He rarely cries and smiles often. When he smiles, I smile back at him. We can smile at each other for half an hour without getting tired, like happy fools. I’m already jealous of his future wife. No wonder mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationships have always been difficult—how could they not be when the dislike starts this early?
Da Shan tells me if I love children so much, we should have another one, preferably a daughter. Then we’d have both a son and daughter. He says not to worry about the family planning fines, proudly declaring “We have money now, we can pay any fine.”
Having a daughter would be nice. Imagining Xiao Tuo leading around a sweet little sister makes me dizzy with joy.
But childbirth takes a toll on women. After having Xiao Tuo, my health hasn’t been good, and I developed urinary incontinence. I kept extending my maternity leave until I finally just quit. Da Shan is considerate and suggested hiring a nanny.
I was shocked—isn’t that a bourgeois lifestyle?
Da Shan laughed at my provincial thinking, telling me to broaden my horizons. He said the 14th Central Committee’s Third Plenum was already over, we were establishing a market economy system, and I should learn from Hong Kong and Taiwan bosses—they know how to enjoy life.
Last week, he brought home the nanny. Otherwise, how would I have time to write in my diary now?
I’m not entirely satisfied with this young nanny, Li Shuangxiu, for two reasons. First, this girl is too beautiful—no exaggeration, she could be a movie star. How could someone like that be content being a nanny? Second, shouldn’t a nanny be older, someone who’s raised children before? She’s too young to be reliable.
But I can’t say anything. It’s already nice of her to come help, and being picky would make me seem like a landlord’s wife.
Da Shan privately told me this nanny has some connection to our family. He asked if I remembered Li Ergou—Shuangxiu is Ergou’s sister. She came to the mine looking for work, but Da Shan thought the mine work was too heavy and mostly men, so he brought her home as a nanny instead.
That Li Ergou who stole money from the mine and disappeared over a year ago? Da Shan is too kind. Ergou stole almost ten thousand from the mine.
But I told Da Shan it was impossible—Li Ergou was incredibly ugly, while Li Shuangxiu is like heaven and earth in comparison. How could siblings not share any facial features?
Da Shan said I lack experience, and that this happens all the time.
Really? Maybe I do need more life experience.
Anyway, Shuangxiu is quite good with children. Sometimes when I can’t comfort Xiao Tuo in my arms, he calms down with her. I honestly suspect she’s had children before.
I’ll stop here. After not writing for over a year, this has become quite dry, just a chronicle of events.
PS: Chang Xi came to our house today, bringing two hens. This child—mine doesn’t pay much, yet he keeps buying things for me. I need to tell Da Shan to have the accountant give Chang Xi more money at the end of the month.
—[Excerpted from Lin Xirou’s Diary]