When he woke up, daylight was already bright.

As soon as Yan Tuo sat up, his head felt extremely heavy. He held his head in his hands, taking a moment to recover on the bed before looking around the room.

Back at the hotel?

Oh right, he’d called a designated driver.

He’d also received a call from Lü Xian on the way.

What was he supposed to do today?

Lü Xian…

Damn!

Could something have happened to Lü Xian already?

Yan Tuo hurriedly reached for the dedicated phone, searching for a while before remembering he’d given it to Nie Jiuluo yesterday. He threw off the covers and rushed out.

He stopped as soon as he entered the living room: Nie Jiuluo had already cleaned up and dressed—though her idea of dressing was simply throwing on a coat. She sat at the dining table eating breakfast.

She looked up at the sound, glancing at him. “Awake?”

Yan Tuo mumbled an affirmative, looking at the table.

Two Western-style breakfast sets, both with hot milk, sunny-side-up eggs, and vegetable salad.

“Did you order room service?”

Nie Jiuluo nodded and returned to her meal.

The interruption made Yan Tuo forget why he’d come out. After standing there for a moment, he opened the mini-fridge and took out a bottle of mineral water: he’d been drinking last night and needed to drive today—drinking water would help dilute any residual alcohol to prevent “next-day drunk driving.”

As the cold water hit his throat, sending a chill through his body, Yan Tuo froze.

After returning yesterday, he seemed to remember seeing Nie Jiuluo and talking with her.

He turned to look at her.

Nie Jiuluo felt his gaze.

She was almost finished eating anyway, so she pushed away her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What is it?”

Yan Tuo hesitated, “Yesterday, I… was drunk?”

“Yes.”

“Did I do anything… impolite?”

Nie Jiuluo raised her eyes slightly: “What, do you often do impolite things when drunk?”

Yan Tuo: “No, it’s just that when people are drunk, their self-control tends to… slip.”

He remembered some fragments but couldn’t tell if they had really happened or were just alcohol-addled fantasies of his wandering mind.

He asked Nie Jiuluo again: “I didn’t… offend you, did I?”

Nie Jiuluo: “Would you dare? If you had offended me, could you have slept peacefully until morning?”

That was true. Yan Tuo let out a long breath of relief and turned to go to the bathroom to wash up.

While washing his face, he splashed cold water on it several times. Suddenly, his mind wandered.

He remembered those eyes again.

They were truly the gentlest eyes he’d ever seen in his life—the kind that understood everything without him having to say a word, instantly breaking through all his rambling excuses and attempts at concealment. He felt as if he’d been completely disarmed, wanting only to tear open his chest and show her all the sorrow, guilt, and even grievances hidden deep inside.

Yan Tuo lowered his head and scooped up another handful of water, forcefully pressing it against his face.

Dreams were nice—they had everything.

After freshening up and feeling refreshed, Yan Tuo sat down for breakfast.

Just as he was about to chat with Nie Jiuluo, she made a “shh” sound, her eyelids lowered, seeming to concentrate on listening to something.

Yan Tuo then noticed she had an earpiece in one ear.

Was she… still monitoring Lü Xian?

Yan Tuo grew tense but didn’t want to disturb her, so he could only watch her expression while occasionally taking a few bites.

After a while, she removed the earpiece.

Yan Tuo’s heart was racing: “What’s the news?”

“It’s good news, I suppose. Lü Xian has left the farm.”

Yan Tuo got so excited he almost knocked over his milk, quickly steadying the glass: “What happened?”

…

Nie Jiuluo couldn’t say exactly what had happened.

She only knew that last night around eleven, Xiong Hei had hurriedly called Lin Xirou away because “something happened.”

The next development came just now when Lü Xian ran into Xiong Hei at breakfast and greeted him: “Brother Xiong, was everything alright last night?”

Xiong Hei didn’t want to discuss it, giving only a perfunctory response.

Lü Xian asked again: “Are we heading back to the city together today? Around what time?”

Xiong Hei replied: “Go on your own, we still have business here.”

Whatever they had planned for Lü Xian today had been forcibly suspended.

The luck came so suddenly that Yan Tuo could hardly believe it: “Could it be this coincidental? Getting exactly what we wanted—the ‘root severance’ having problems right at this moment?”

Nie Jiuluo pushed the dedicated phone and earpiece toward Yan Tuo: “Who cares? The point is, it’s good news.”

She had never met Lü Xian, but this man had snatched her life back from the King of Hell’s hands, so she hoped for his safety too.

After breakfast, they set out again.

From Zhengzhou to Anyang was a two-and-a-half-hour drive on the highway. Before noon, they had already entered the city.

Theoretically, Anyang should have been an extremely ancient city, being the birthplace of oracle bone inscriptions. Yan Tuo had expected to be hit with “the weight of history,” but upon arrival, he found it wasn’t like that at all. China’s cities were racing to emphasize “newness”—new streets, new buildings, and even the trees lining the roads were fresh and youthful.

Nie Jiuluo explained to him: “This is the new district. The old town still has that sense of history.”

Yan Tuo had no time to encounter that “historical feeling” on this trip—the restaurant where Xu Anni worked was in the new district.

They arrived during meal time, but the restaurant wasn’t particularly busy. From the storefront, you could tell it was an economical establishment, and not very large.

Not knowing if she was in, Yan Tuo found the restaurant’s phone number on Dianping and called, asking specifically for “Xu Anni.” The front desk asked him to wait, then shouted in a thick accent: “An Ni ya!”

Somehow managing to make what should have been a rather sophisticated name sound completely rustic.

Yan Tuo hung up the phone: “She’s there.”

He was about to get out of the car when Nie Jiuluo stopped him: “Let me go.”

Yan Tuo didn’t understand.

Nie Jiuluo said: “Di Xiao knows you. I think it’s better if you don’t show your face, even to people close to them. Besides, what can you do besides look at her? It’s better if I go—women find it easier to talk to other women.”

Yan Tuo looked at her walker leaning against the seat: “You?”

“What about me? Drive the car to the entrance, and I’ll take a few steps—someone will come help me. Recovery doesn’t mean I can’t move at all.”

That made sense.

Yan Tuo pulled up Xu Anni’s photo from his email to show Nie Jiuluo, then drove the car to the restaurant entrance.

Just as he was about to get out and go around to open her door, Nie Jiuluo scolded him: “Don’t! Just stay seated. Let me struggle to get out on my own. Once I’m out, drive away immediately. I’ll text you when you should come pick me up.”

What was this all about now? Yan Tuo couldn’t help but laugh, but he did as she said, driving away “immediately”—though very slowly, watching through the rearview mirror until he saw someone from the restaurant come out to help her before finally feeling at ease.

…

As soon as Nie Jiuluo entered the restaurant, she drew the attention of most people inside. Her beauty was secondary—mainly it was her entire appearance that caught the eye, plus her arm in a sling and the walker, making it impossible to maintain a low profile.

She also spotted Xu Anni, who was cleaning a table for the next customers.

Xu Anni was very young, just in her early twenties, of medium height with a round face and large eyes, wearing a low ponytail and dressed very simply—usually, girls that age showed at least some trendiness, but she didn’t at all, her simplicity bordering on plainness.

Nie Jiuluo walked toward that table.

Xu Anni quickly sped up her cleaning, giving the table a final couple of wipes before turning to greet her: “Hello, just one person?”

She started to reach out to help but pulled back—Nie Jiuluo’s coat was expensive, and her hands were greasy from the cleaning cloth.

Nie Jiuluo nodded, sitting down with apparent difficulty and pain—making Xu Anni’s heartache for her. She couldn’t help asking, “Sister, did you just hurt your arm?”

Nie Jiuluo was taken aback by the form of address. No one had ever called her that before, and she didn’t particularly like it, feeling it made her sound old.

But coming from Xu Anni, it was understandable—the girl looked like she was still in high school.

Nie Jiuluo nodded: “I can’t use force, it hurts when I do.”

Xu Anni looked puzzled toward the door: “Someone like you, eating out alone? Doesn’t your family accompany you?”

Nie Jiuluo gave a faint smile, certain her expression carried a touch of sorrow—she had practiced this in the mirror.

She looked down at the menu.

The table was covered with clear soft plastic, with the menu placed underneath.

Nie Jiuluo: “I’ll have the signature eggplant rice and a seaweed egg drop soup. Also, I need a takeout order—for my husband, braised pork ribs with vegetables, fresh bamboo chicken soup, and stir-fried beef. Oh, and make sure the meat is tender, or he’ll get angry.”

Her expression turned apologetic as she said the last part.

Xu Anni found it bewildering: “In your condition, you’re still getting takeout for your husband? Can’t he get his food?”

Nie Jiuluo gently bit her lip, her eyes gradually reddening as she said softly: “Just place the order.”

Then she raised her hand to lightly wipe her eyes.

…

With few customers in the small restaurant and a quick chef, the signature eggplant rice came out quickly.

After just a few bites, Nie Jiuluo “accidentally” dropped her chopsticks on the floor.

As she tried to bend down to pick them up, Xu Anni hurried over from nearby, took away the dirty chopsticks, and brought her a new pair.

Nie Jiuluo said softly: “Thank you.”

Xu Anni had taken a liking to Nie Jiuluo, feeling that this sister was cultured and refined, speaking so gently and looking so beautiful.

She said: “Sister, you’re injured—ordering such plain food won’t give you enough nutrition.”

Nie Jiuluo forced a smile and said: “I’m used to it.”

Used to what? Considering everything else, Xu Anni felt increasingly that something wasn’t right. She glanced around and lowered her voice: “Sister, is your husband treating you badly?”

She had noticed the problem earlier: an injured person eating such plain food while ordering rich dishes for her husband—making an injured wife fetch takeout, what kind of person does that?

Nie Jiuluo looked up at Xu Anni.

Sometimes, to get others to be honest, you have to be honest first. To exchange secrets, you need to reveal one of your own.

She gently touched her bandaged left arm: “What do you think? He did this.”

Xu Anni didn’t react at first, then stammered after a few seconds: “He… he did this? Your husband?”

Nie Jiuluo nodded tearfully.

What kind of psychopath could do such a thing?

Xu Anni felt such indignation on her behalf, but seeing her so fragile, she also felt frustrated at her passivity: “You can’t let him get away with this. Worst case, just get divorced—you’re so beautiful, you won’t lack for suitors.”

Nie Jiuluo burst out laughing, then turned melancholic: “Relationships between men and women are too complicated. You’re still young, you’ve never been in love—you wouldn’t understand.”

Xu Anni blurted out: “I wouldn’t understand. I may be younger than you, but I understand more than you do.”

Realizing she had let something slip, her expression turned embarrassed.

Nie Jiuluo knew why she was embarrassed: before “coming ashore,” Xu Anni had worked in the sex industry. So young, yet having to make such a living, she had seen many ugly things and naturally understood much—but looking at her current appearance cleaned up without a trace of makeup, she wanted to make a complete break from her past.

She feigned surprise: “Oh, you’re already dating? Is your boyfriend good to you?”

At the mention of her boyfriend, the joy in Xu Anni’s eyes couldn’t be hidden. She said shyly: “He’s very good to me.”

…

Half an hour later, Yan Tuo came to pick up Nie Jiuluo.

Following her instructions, he stopped the car at the entrance without getting out, and to demonstrate “coldness,” didn’t even open the door for her.

Yan Tuo could see Xu Anni helping Nie Jiuluo to the door and opening the car door for her.

He turned his face away to avoid meeting Xu Anni’s eyes, but he could hear her.

He heard her telling Nie Jiuluo to be careful and get in slowly, saying things like “Think carefully about what I told you,” and finally letting out a loud “pah!”

Yan Tuo was puzzled, but he had a strong feeling that Xu Anni’s “pah” was directed at him.

After driving for a while, he asked Nie Jiuluo: “What did you talk about for so long?”

Then added: “Didn’t know you could chat so well with strangers.”

For a long while, Nie Jiuluo didn’t answer.

Yan Tuo found it strange and turned to look at her, only then noticing her unfocused gaze and odd expression, her lips slightly trembling, occasionally licking them anxiously.

“Miss Nie?”

Nie Jiuluo was startled as if just coming back to her senses. She turned to look at Yan Tuo, her voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremor.

“Yan Tuo, Xu Anni is pregnant.”

Xu Anni… is pregnant?

Yan Tuo’s mind exploded, and he instinctively went to hit the brakes, then suddenly remembered Nie Jiuluo’s condition couldn’t handle such an abrupt stop, and quickly restrained himself.

Finally, the car slowed and pulled over to the side.

They sat in silence, neither speaking.

At last, Yan Tuo broke the silence: “That’s impossible—how could a human and a Di Xiao possibly have a child?”

Nie Jiuluo gave a slight laugh: “Shocking, isn’t it? When I heard her say it in the restaurant, I knocked over my soup bowl. I’m only just now starting to process it.”

“There are two possibilities. First, they’ve overcome this reproductive barrier and can now mate with humans and produce offspring.”

Yan Tuo started to speak, but Nie Jiuluo gestured for him to wait and let her finish: “The second possibility is that Xu Anni thinks she’s carrying Wu Xingbang’s child, but it’s not his.”

Still unable to process it, Yan Tuo asked directly: “What do you mean?”

Nie Jiuluo hesitated: “Remember how Lin Ling once suspected she was molested at night but couldn’t wake up? What I’m saying is, Xu Anni surely wouldn’t refuse her boyfriend’s advances, but at night, with no lights, in a hazy state of consciousness, who knows which man it was?”

Yan Tuo spoke slowly: “You mean Wu Xingbang arranged for someone to… with his girlfriend…”

Nie Jiuluo lowered her head: “What girlfriend? She’s just a blood bag.”

As she spoke, she seemed to see again Xu Anni’s smiling eyes as she had said so earnestly: “Sister, you need to be decisive—if you should split up, then split up. You have to believe that better things lie ahead. Look at me—before I met my boyfriend, I tried to kill myself several times. After meeting him, I often think how fortunate it is that I didn’t succeed.”