Nie Jiuluo woke up early and called a doctor she knew well. She had wanted to call the night before but felt it was too late.
After listening to her story, the doctor took a moment to process the situation: “Trapped in a coal mine for over two months without seeing daylight?”
Nie Jiuluo nodded vigorously on her end, even more invested in the story than the doctor: “Yes, and they didn’t feed him properly. He was constantly hungry, tried to escape twice, and got beaten for it.”
The doctor felt distressed just hearing about it. “Things like this still happen these days?”
After pondering for a moment, he continued: “Well, it’s complicated. The northern winters are cold, and mines are damp. Chilblains would be normal, and arthritis is likely due to the cold and dampness. Being deprived of sunlight is unhealthy—it weakens the immune system and likely causes vitamin D deficiency, which affects calcium absorption and melanin synthesis, leading to pale skin.”
Nie Jiuluo rushed to her bedside table and grabbed the paper to take notes.
“The endocrine system might also be affected. Without sunlight, thyroid secretion decreases, causing lethargy. Irregular eating patterns can damage the digestive system, and appendicitis… well, that’s also possible.”
Nie Jiuluo felt her scalp tingling with anxiety: “Could he be left with… so many health issues?”
The doctor chuckled: “Even steel rusts in those conditions, let alone humans. From birth, we spend our whole lives maintaining our health—some need minor repairs, others major ones. If you’re worried, I’d recommend a full medical examination. However, physical issues are minor compared to potential mental problems. He might be psychologically sensitive, possibly even developing depression in severe cases.”
This was exactly what Nie Jiuluo feared. Yan Tuo wasn’t particularly outgoing; when they first met, he could even be described as withdrawn. She had to be forceful to get information from him, only sitting down to “chat” when there was no other choice.
“What should I do?” she asked.
The doctor replied: “These are just possibilities, not certainties. For now, focus on maintaining a regular lifestyle, a light diet with plenty of fruits and vegetables, and moderate exercise. There will be an adjustment period, so take it slowly. Normally, he doesn’t like bright lights—his eyes need time to adjust.”
Nie Jiuluo: “What about him hiding away and avoiding people…”
The doctor found this all normal, then asked: “How different does he look compared to before?”
Nie Jiuluo said: “When I went to identify him at the police station, I barely recognized him. Think about it—he was starved until his figure became distorted, and his clothes hung loose on him.”
The doctor smiled: “Not surprising. Ask yourself—if you were in his situation, would you want to see people?”
That was true. Putting herself in his shoes, if she were in that dungeon and Yan Tuo came to find her, she’d rather put a pot over her head than let him see her face.
Nie Jiuluo smiled: “Do men experience appearance anxiety too?”
The doctor replied: “First, appearance anxiety isn’t gender-specific; second, this isn’t appearance anxiety—it’s simply the universal desire to look presentable.”
After hanging up, Nie Jiuluo rolled up her notes, reviewing the doctor’s advice. She needed to have Lu-jie return to work early to provide comprehensive nutrition for Yan Tuo. For the holiday period, she’d calculate the wages at triple pay.
As she pondered, she recalled the phrase “desire to look presentable.”
Nie Jiuluo lowered her head and smiled, surprised that Yan Tuo had such vanity.
Since he was sensitive lately, she decided to accommodate him, trying to help this beauty-conscious peacock save face.
On the fourth day of the New Year, many shops had reopened. Though it was just a town, it was lively. Nie Jiuluo went out for a walk, buying gloves and a black baseball cap with a brim for Yan Tuo, a jazz hat for Yu Rong, and breakfast for everyone. She hung them on their respective doorknobs, and knocked on each door announcing “Breakfast!”
Then she returned to her room with a sense of casual accomplishment, only emerging again when she heard Yu Rong calling out “Let’s go!”
She first saw Yu Rong, wearing the jazz hat with an impatient expression. Upon seeing her, Yu Rong complained: “Just because you wear a hat doesn’t mean everyone else needs one.”
In a good mood, Nie Jiuluo smiled: “It’s for safety! And I gave you options—either switch with me or use a plastic bag.”
Yu Rong looked at her little red hood with disdain, thinking, ‘Aren’t you afraid of being eaten by wolves?’
The door behind them opened—it was Yan Tuo.
Both turned to look.
Yu Rong was speechless at the sight of another hat.
Nie Jiuluo went to meet him.
Yan Tuo had put on the padded jacket, which was thick enough to hide his thin frame. With the mask, hat, and gloves creating a protective barrier, he seemed to have entered a psychological safety zone, his spirits notably lifted—except that on this sunny day, he stepped out only to immediately retreat.
Nie Jiuluo asked: “Is the sunlight too harsh?”
She had wanted to buy him sunglasses, but the optician’s shop was closed.
Yan Tuo blinked. It was indeed harsh; even with the cap’s brim, his eyes felt sore.
He said: “It’s fine, I’ll adjust soon.”
Nie Jiuluo extended her hand: “It’s okay, it’ll be better in the car. Close your eyes, I’ll guide you there.”
Yan Tuo gave her his hand. Through the gloves, he could barely feel her touch, but Nie Jiuluo found it fascinating: a man’s hand was naturally large, and with the black leather gloves, rough and smelling of vegetable tanning, their clasped hands made her bandaged hand appear particularly white and delicate.
She led Yan Tuo a few steps, warning him about the steps, then asked: “Do you have somewhere to go? Where should I take you?”
Yan Tuo was stumped.
Where could he go? He couldn’t return home, and Uncle Changxi had been sent on vacation…
Nie Jiuluo said: “Nowhere to go? Well, I have a spare room. You can rent it if you want, meals included, though the rent is high—it’s a private courtyard in a good location. If you’re short on cash, you can write an IOU, but you must pay it back eventually.”
Yan Tuo kept his eyes closed. The face mask was convenient—he could smile secretly without anyone seeing.
The sunlight felt wonderful, warm on his body.
He immediately agreed: “Alright.”
As they drove away from the hotel, Nie Jiuluo asked Yan Tuo about his time in captivity. On their way out yesterday, she had briefly told him about what happened outside, but hadn’t asked about his experience—after all, he had just been imprisoned for over two months, and his wounds hadn’t healed yet. It seemed inappropriate to force him to recall such painful memories.
Yan Tuo thought for a long time. First, the torture during that period had affected his memory, and second, towards the end, his energy had been entirely focused on food, cold, and pain, leaving little thought for matters concerning the Di Xiao.
He first recalled Li Ergou’s story.
Lin Ling was Li Ergou’s sister, which meant Li Ergou was Lin Xiruo’s first blood vessel. No wonder Yan Huanshan couldn’t find him despite using various connections, both legal and illegal.
He reflected with some emotion: “The prison cell where I was kept must have been built later, but Li Ergou likely passed through there. I found some money there—he had reportedly stolen nearly ten thousand from the mine when he disappeared. Everyone thought he’d escaped to the south to live freely…”
But he hadn’t escaped; he’d died in the mine’s depths—disappearance meant death. He wondered if Li Ergou’s remains were among those in the bone cave Nie Jiuluo discovered. Also, he had always thought the mine had changed hands, but now it seemed it was merely transferred within the same organization, disposing of the original miners to better hide their secrets.
“In my mother’s diary, she wrote about miners claiming there were ghosts in the mine. My father went down to investigate. The supposed ghost must have been Lin Xiruo—what my father saw was probably Lin Xiruo shortly after her transformation, though I don’t know what happened that led to him becoming her thrall.”
Nie Jiuluo shared this theory: “I asked Uncle Changxi. He said Li Ergou was very unpopular then, spreading rumors about blue-faced, fanged ghosts in the mine. He likely saw Lin Xiruo before her transformation. The process from Li Ergou’s disappearance to Lin Xiruo’s transformation was quite rapid. But why did it slow down later?”
Over twenty years would have been enough time to transform an army, yet the Di Xiao only numbered up to 019.
Unable to understand this key point, Yan Tuo set it aside temporarily: “Also, Lin Xiruo hinted that they originally looked human, saying ‘Once entering Black-White Ravine, Xiao becomes a human demon, human becomes Xiao ghost.’ This aligns with the Bandaged Army’s rule of ‘not entering Black-White Ravine.’ I’m thinking it might work like this.”
Unable to draw in the car, he gestured in the air to explain.
First, draw an imaginary horizontal line: “This is Black-White Ravine, actually a boundary line. Those living above it are us, the ‘white’ side, illuminated by sunlight. Those below are the ‘black’ side, the Di Xiao. Black and white are separated by the ravine, neither able to cross. Because whichever side crosses becomes ‘like a demon or ghost.’ I believe the Bandaged Army must have crossed this boundary early on and paid a terrible price, leading to the rule of ‘not entering Black-White Ravine.'”
“Theoretically, each side should stay in their realm, never crossing. But Lin Xiruo mentioned they are ‘descendants of Kuafu, pursuers of the sun.’ ‘Pursuing the sun’—the meaning is obvious. They might inherently desire to live in sunlight, willing to become ‘human demons’ just to cross Black-White Ravine and ‘smuggle’ themselves to our side.”
Nie Jiuluo remained silent, thinking how apt the term “smuggle” was—wasn’t Lin Xiruo just like a snakehead who had reached shore and then organized smuggling operations?
Yu Rong also made a sound of interest: “That’s a fresh perspective, but it makes sense.”
Yan Tuo found this strange: “You’re from the Bian family, aren’t you familiar with the Bandaged Army’s history?”
Yu Rong scoffed: “The Bandaged Army, strictly speaking, has long been… what’s the word… lost to time. It’s like a horse’s tail being cut, leaving only a few strands. Uncle Jiang back then just wanted to make some money. Using these few strands plus some old records he dug up, he tried his luck. He got lucky, catching a ‘grasshopper’ on his first try. Do you know what it means when they say Di Xiao are treasures?”
She explained: “During the chaos from the late Qing Dynasty to pre-Liberation, the Qinling mountains were full of wealthy households hiding their valuables—gold bars, silver ingots—to avoid the turmoil. Often, they’d hide their fortunes successfully but wouldn’t survive the war to retrieve them. Local people called these lost treasures ‘jin liu zi’ (gold runners), meaning valuable things that seemed to grow legs and run away. In desperation, people would say, ‘I’m going to the mountains to dig for runners.'”
“Uncle Jiang grew up around the mountains and heard too many such stories. Before the hunting ban, he dreamed of digging for treasures, but it was just a fantasy then. After the ban, he started scheming.”
“The Di Xiao are treasures because, living underground, they’re particularly sensitive to buried objects, especially precious metals and jewels. After the ‘grasshopper’ was brought out, it located seven or eight treasure caches. Think about it—how much would that be worth back then? And in these mountains, there must be more than seventy or eighty such caches.”
“Uncle Jiang lacked experience then; seven or eight treasure caches already overwhelmed him. Afraid to operate locally where everyone knew him, they busy themselves moving the goods elsewhere to convert to cash. After getting their first pot of gold, they were busy enjoying life and investing, wasting quite some time. When they finally got around to the second batch, they discovered the ‘grasshopper’ had degraded in various ways, much less efficient than before.”
Nie Jiuluo had heard these old stories from Jiang Baichuan before, but he hadn’t gone into such detail, and she hadn’t been particularly interested then. Hearing it now felt fresh.
She pondered: “It must be because of exposure to light—Di Xiao deteriorates quickly in light.”
Yu Rong considered: “Maybe also because the ‘grasshopper’ was too young. Look at its size—just a monkey compared to Yu Peng. Not fully developed, its resistance was weak. After a few times, it couldn’t locate treasures anymore.”
She concluded: “So it all comes down to money, why talk about history? The original Bandaged Army is long gone. If you want to know their history, ask Uncle Jiang—everything we know came from him.”
Yan Tuo had a thought: “Is it possible there are things Jiang Baichuan knows but hasn’t told you?”
Nie Jiuluo nodded: “I think so. I wasn’t interested in the matter, so I just listened to whatever he said, never asking follow-up questions.”
Yu Rong agreed: “Probably. If he knows ten parts, he might tell you seven. What can you do?”
Yan Tuo had only met Jiang Baichuan a few times, his final impression being of a dying old man in a dark cell on the farm’s second underground level.
The man had been imprisoned for so long that Yan Tuo had often almost forgotten his existence.
After the ‘grasshopper,’ was Jiang Baichuan’s repeated organization of Qing Ran expeditions just due to his obsession with those scattered mountain treasures?
Yu Rong cleared her throat: “By the way, when we reach a convenient spot, you two find your way back. Take care of your arm, and put on some weight… I won’t be seeing you home.”
Nie Jiuluo was startled: “You have other business?”
“Didn’t they say there’d be feeding in a few days? Xing Shen… wants to try his luck at Old Niutou Ridge. If we catch one or two more, wouldn’t that make us a bit richer?”