The bar was generally empty in the early morning, so Huo Zihong and her companions usually had their breakfast prominently set at the most central table in the bar. It was an intentionally aged, coffee-colored, rectangular wooden table. Beside it stood a slender-necked, sky-blue ceramic vase imitating Jun kiln porcelain with one or two dried flowers inserted. At the center was an exquisite, delicate European miniature grand piano model, on whose keys stood a graceful ballet dancer, her toes lightly pressing down as if fluid music would flow out in the next second.

Such a refined scene was accompanied every morning by steaming rice porridge and steamed buns, forcing the elegant dancer to stare helplessly at pickled vegetable pancakes—quite a pitiful situation.

Huo Zihong had slept awkwardly last night and woke up late. As she came downstairs rubbing her neck, Zhang Shu was already ladling red date porridge, while Mu Dai sat at the table with a coquettish manner: “Uncle, give me more red dates, please.”

Huo Zihong smiled and casually asked, “Where’s Yi Wansan?”

Mu Dai seemed not to hear, focusing all her attention on the few dates. Zhang Shu turned his head, made a strange face, winked at her, and then gestured outside with his mouth.

Huo Zihong understood and went out to look first.

Yi Wansan was half-squatting at the entrance in a horse stance, both hands stretched out palms up, balancing half a bottle of foreign liquor on his head. On his forehead was written the character “I” in black marker. Upon closer inspection, there were also characters on his palms—”deserve” on the left hand and “this” on the right.

Together they read: “I deserve this.”

With characters above, below, and on either side, he looked like a Spring Festival couplet posted on a doorway.

This kind of nasty trick could only have been Mu Dai’s idea. Huo Zihong sighed and took the bottle from his head: “Come in and eat.”

After entering, Yi Wansan lingered awkwardly by the table, refusing to sit. Huo Zihong stirred the porridge with a spoon and said, “Who’s in charge here? Does my word not count anymore?”

Mu Dai glanced at Yi Wansan: “My Aunt Hong tells you to sit, so sit!”

Yi Wansan jumped and quickly sat down.

Huo Zihong remained composed: “What happened this time?”

Mu Dai wrapped pickled vegetables in her pancake as meticulously as if wrapping gold and silver threads: “Auntie, Yi Wansan did something bad, and I covered for him, so I won’t tell on him, but a small punishment to prevent worse offenses can’t be avoided.”

Huo Zihong looked at Yi Wansan: “Did something bad?”

Yi Wansan confessed without hesitation: “Yes, Boss, I was confused for a moment.”

Mu Dai made a sarcastic remark from the side: “As if you’ve ever been clear-headed.”

Huo Zihong suppressed a smile, deliberately provoking her: “Mu Dai, ever since Yi Wansan came to the shop, you two have always been at odds. The old saying is true—enemies are bound to meet. Someday, if you two come before me hand in hand, I wouldn’t find it strange.”

Mu Dai said, “I’m looking forward to that day too.”

What did she mean by that? Yi Wansan suddenly grew alert.

Mu Dai finished wrapping her pickled vegetables, took a bite, and casually threw him a glance: “Want to bet that on the second day after I marry into your family, I’ll have you wearing mourning clothes?”

Yi Wansan looked at Huo Zihong with a dejected face: “Boss, I’ve already given my heart to someone else. Young Boss’s… excellent character deserves someone better… to match.”

…

After breakfast, as usual, Zhang Shu tidied up miscellaneous matters, Yi Wansan prepared behind the bar, and Huo Zihong planned to visit the Batik Fabric Street. The tourism heat there remained high, and she was considering renting another shop specifically to sell Yunnan specialty handicrafts. Batik, tie-dye, and fabric arts would be good choices.

Just as she was about to leave, Mu Dai quickly followed: “Aunt Hong, I’ll go with you.”

Huo Zihong found this somewhat strange—Mu Dai had always been least interested in such things. Nevertheless, going together was fine; she also wanted to entrust Mu Dai with some business matters.

Along the way, they passed through streets and alleys. Pedestrians gradually increased, and various food and fruit stalls were arranged along the river. Huo Zihong looked around as she walked, while Mu Dai never strayed more than three steps from her side and cautiously surveyed their surroundings from time to time.

She had decided that if Luo Ren had indeed arrived here, his target would be Aunt Hong. She would just stay close to Aunt Hong, and if Luo Ren turned to deal with people in the shop instead…

She would need to remind Zhang Shu in the next couple of days. As for someone like Yi Wansan, if he was sacrificed, so be it—it would be doing a public service.

…

In the bar, Yi Wansan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, typing rapidly. In his latest update post, his “forest lady boss” had already subtly shown “affection” toward him.

The netizens following the post were clearly in a frenzy.

—Damn! I guessed this woman had ulterior motives all along. Sure enough!

—Hang in there, OP! Don’t give in!

—I don’t think so. I suggest OP pretend to agree, get control of the bar, then kick her to the curb!

—Are you all toxic straight males upstairs? It’s her bar, and she likes her worker. What’s wrong with that?

…

Suddenly, Yi Wansan felt a chill down his spine.

That ID named “Pay Your Debts, It’s Heaven’s Law” appeared again.

—I’m just puzzled, OP doesn’t work properly, but updates posts happily. Is bar work that leisurely?

Luo Ren hadn’t stayed at a guesthouse.

He had rented an entire traditional Naxi-style house with three courtyards and a screen wall. Surrounded by numerous guesthouses, it was all the more inconspicuous, yet its location was perfect. Opening the wooden lattice window on the second floor, one could see the busiest alleyways.

He didn’t even need to open it. These were old-style wooden lattice windows with plum blossom carvings over eighty-one small window grids, patterned after the “ninety-nine cold-dispelling diagram.” In the past, these grids were covered with paper or gauze; now they held transparent glass. Combined with the flower branches and leaves swaying across the flowered wall, it made for a perfect position to observe without being exposed.

Luo Ren stood by the window, looking down with interest at Mu Dai.

Actually, he had first been watching Huo Zihong, but as he watched, his gaze couldn’t help but shift to Mu Dai.

How to put it—she followed Huo Zihong step by step, yet constantly looked around with challenging eyes. The message was clear: she knew someone was lurking nearby and wanted to convey “try me if you dare.”

Like a little wolf dog, baring its teeth and barking fiercely but never actually biting. At most…

Luo Ren couldn’t help but touch his shoulder.

At most, she would bump into him like before. Now, she was spreading her wings like a mother hen protecting Huo Zihong, thinking he wouldn’t dare make a move.

Mu Dai faithfully accompanied Huo Zihong there and back.

Huo Zihong thought her behavior odd: “Mu Dai, you’ve been strange all day. You say you accompanied me, but your mind has been wandering. Do you remember anything I told you today?”

Aunt Hong had been telling her things?

Seeing Mu Dai’s expression, Huo Zihong knew she hadn’t been paying attention. Shaking her head, she entered the bar. As soon as Mu Dai followed her in, Zhang Shu called out: “Young Boss, someone delivered something for you!”

Mu Dai was surprised: “For me?”

“Yes.” Zhang Shu gestured toward a small box on a nearby table. “Express delivery.”

Receiving a delivery always brought joy, though few people knew her address. Who could it be? Her master? Wan Fenghuo? Could it be… Cao Yanhua?

Mu Dai felt half surprised and half pleased. She used a key to cut open the plastic tape sealing the box. As soon as she opened it, her expression changed. After a moment, she picked up the box to examine it, somewhat annoyed: “Uncle Zhang, how could this be express delivery?”

Zhang Shu was puzzled: “What’s wrong? Is it a bomb?”

Looking closer, he understood why. The box had no delivery label, meaning it hadn’t gone through the normal collection and delivery process. But this wasn’t his fault. Sometimes when the shop was busy and deliveries came, he couldn’t be bothered to look up, usually just nodding: “There, put it on the table.”

The delivery person would also be straightforward: “Then, Uncle, I’ll sign for you.”

Quick and convenient for both parties—who had time to check for her? Could it be a bomb?

He peered into the box and, after a moment, reached in to pull out a bag of strawberries.

Each berry was large, red, and plump, with vibrant color. Honestly, this delivery was truly “express”—water droplets still clung to the strawberries.

Zhang Shu said, “Isn’t this nice? Good for beauty and complexion. Don’t all girls love strawberries?”

Yi Wansan also stretched his neck to look: “Anonymous strawberry delivery? Young Boss, is someone pursuing you?”

He commented: “But this person is too practical. They should at least send flowers. This isn’t good, Young Boss. Those who start by sending fruits and strawberries, once you’re dating, you’ll only receive garlic and spring onions…”

Mu Dai suddenly became angry. She grabbed the bag and threw it forcefully into the garbage can under the table, then turned and left.

Neither Zhang Shu nor Yi Wansan moved.

After a long while, Yi Wansan couldn’t take his eyes off the strawberries. He cleared his throat: “Uncle, look at our Young Boss, this is too… wasteful.”

“Indeed.” Zhang Shu’s voice was equally solemn. “These… aren’t they called cream strawberries? They must cost over twenty yuan per pound?”

Their gazes met, unusually striking sparks of agreement.

Damn, it would be a waste not to eat them.

That evening, Mu Dai seized an opportunity to mention her concerns to Huo Zihong. Huo Zihong was both irritated and amused: “You’ve been acting so mysterious all day, just for this?”

Mu Dai became anxious: “If I didn’t lack concrete evidence, I would have called the police already. Aunt Hong, if that person is the murderer’s accomplice, how dangerous would that be?”

Huo Zihong laughed: “What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m just inquiring about what happened back then. Professor Li was my teacher. Is it a problem for a student to ask about her teacher?”

Mu Dai suddenly remembered the photo in Li Tan’s wallet. The words “Are you just his student?” almost escaped her lips before she suppressed them.

Huo Zihong shook her head and sighed: “I don’t know what you’re all doing—hypnotic portraits or whatever, I don’t understand. Even if they are bad people, I’m not afraid. Isn’t there law and order in this world?”

What did this have to do with law and order? This Aunt Hong was truly infuriating.

Mu Dai decided to follow her path. Whoever wanted to harm Aunt Hong or this home was not allowed.

During the day, no matter how much Huo Zihong found it troublesome, she stubbornly followed her. At night, she either didn’t sleep or slept extremely vigilantly. For someone trained in martial arts, if there’s always a nerve reminding you in your mind, even the slightest sound can wake you instantly.

However, her body wasn’t made of iron. After several days, her face showed signs of strain—large dark circles under her eyes. Yi Wansan wondered: “Young Boss, have you been stealing at night?”

Thief?

Speaking of thieves, Mu Dai suddenly thought of Cao Yanhua. Normally, he was most diligent with WeChat messages, always attaching photos of either the Liberation Monument or the cable car station, adding: “Feeling good today.”

Presumably, he had succeeded—the crime scenes were all in the photos.

But these last few days had been unusually quiet. Mu Dai sent him a WeChat message asking how he was, but it was like a stone sinking into the sea.

That night, past midnight, Mu Dai put on a coat and went downstairs as usual to check the doors and windows one by one, shaking each to test its security. Drowsiness suddenly washed over her, and she yawned while covering her mouth. Looking at her reflection in the window glass, her eyes were as bloodshot as a rabbit’s.

She felt suddenly very annoyed. If you’re coming, then come. She wasn’t afraid of a physical fight. The worst was this dragging on, draining her spirits completely.

Full vigor at first, waning at second, exhausted at third—so that’s what that saying meant.

Her phone suddenly rang in her pocket. Taking it out, she saw an unfamiliar number. Mu Dai casually answered: “Hello?”

There was no sound from the other end. Mu Dai waited two seconds, her heart suddenly skipping a beat: “Hello?”

Sure enough, after a slight pause, Luo Ren’s soft laugh came through the receiver. Mu Dai’s scalp tingled slightly, and she instinctively rushed to the floor-to-ceiling window.

The road, the river street, the water plants, the never-sleeping signboards—the shadows seemed empty of people, yet also as if people lurked everywhere.

He said: “I won’t come tonight. Go to sleep early. Rest well, and let’s… meet tomorrow.”