Meanwhile, Mu Dai couldn’t sleep either. She had heard too many stories in the afternoon, and too many blurred faces were turning in her head. Everyone seemed to carry so many secrets.

Seeing that it wasn’t too late, she crawled out from under her covers and dialed Wan Fenghuo’s number.

After Wan Fenghuo answered with a “Hello,” Mu Dai was exceptionally polite: “Uncle Wan.”

After a couple of dry chuckles, Wan Fenghuo said, “Mu Dai, no matter how many times you call me uncle, no matter how polite you are, getting information from me will cost you.”

Exposed with just one sentence—how embarrassing. Mu Dai threw back her covers, sat up, and crossed her legs: “Wan Fenghuo.”

Wan Fenghuo clicked his tongue: “In an instant, from ‘Uncle Wan’ to ‘Wan Fenghuo.’ Young ladies these days are too pragmatic.”

Mu Dai said, “Just give me a price.”

“Can you afford it?”

“Even if I can’t afford it, I can still listen, can’t I?”

Wan Fenghuo chuckled dryly: “Late at night, do you think I have nothing better to do than quote prices for you? I’m not a radio station.”

Mu Dai pressed her right hand against an indentation in the wall, putting all her strength into her hand, and with one twisting motion, she flipped over and clung to the wall—truly multitasking: “Uncle Wan, don’t always focus on money. Maybe someday you’ll need my help. Think about it—you help me, I help you, mutual benefit, and we become friends. Isn’t that nice?”

Wan Fenghuo grunted.

Sensing an opening, Mu Dai quickly asked: “Uncle Wan, do you believe in ghosts?”

Wan Fenghuo answered: “You should call ‘I Love Ghost Stories’ or a late-night hotline. Otherwise, call someone to talk about love. Don’t waste time with an old man like me.”

“I mean, like someone who was originally a good person, but then got possessed by a ghost and did bad things. Then the ghost moved to another person, and that person went on to do bad things too. That kind.”

Wan Fenghuo sighed: “Mu Dai, our business is substantial, but we’ve never had much trouble. Why is that?”

With her right hand as a pivot point, Mu Dai shifted her entire body thirty degrees diagonally upward, like the hand of a clock: “Why?”

“Because we conduct legitimate business, helping people gather information and find people according to the rules. Note that—finding people, not ghosts! The old society turned people into ghosts; the new society turns ghosts into people. In the new society, there are no ghosts, only people!”

If there aren’t any, then fine—but why be so passionate and forceful about it?

Mu Dai responded irritably: “Oh, then I have nothing more to ask.”

Wan Fenghuo’s tone shifted: “However…”

He lowered his voice: “However, if you’re interested, you could talk to a friend of mine.”

Mu Dai, still clinging to the wall, rolled her eyes: “I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff.”

“Well, it’s like saying ‘Happy New Year’ during the Spring Festival, or saying ‘Have a safe journey’ instead of ‘Have a smooth journey’ when seeing someone off. It’s just custom. Do you want to talk to my friend or not?”

“Is it free?”

“Free.”

A smile appeared at the corners of Mu Dai’s lips. She crossed her legs in mid-air and jumped onto the bed, bouncing a couple of times on the mattress: “Go ahead.”

Wan Fenghuo’s friend was called Shen Gun (Spirit Stick).

He had mentioned him to Mu Dai before—the one who liked to study supernatural phenomena, adamantly refused to use a mobile phone, and then eventually, hesitantly, reluctantly started using one.

Mu Dai felt that calling someone “Spirit Stick” wasn’t very nice, as it seemed to mock them for being a fraud. But no matter how much she asked, she couldn’t get his real name. When Wan Fenghuo grew impatient with her questioning, he said: That’s just how he is. He can’t remember my name either.

Mu Dai didn’t believe it: “Then what does he call you?”

Wan Fenghuo was silent for a moment, a silence that seemed to last an eternity: “Little Wan-Wan.”

Mu Dai made a sound of contempt: Eww…

Two middle-aged men addressing each other with flirtatious nicknames like “Little Wan-Wan”—truly disgraceful for their age. Goosebumps rose all over her arm.

Wan Fenghuo said, “I know what you’re thinking. That’s just how he is. He’ll call you something similar when you meet him.”

Mu Dai snorted: “I won’t stand for it. I’m just Mu Dai.”

Wan Fenghuo replied with an even more disdainful tone: “Come back and tell me that after you’ve dealt with him.”

After hanging up, Wan Fenghuo briefly reminisced.

Shen Gun didn’t originally call him Little Wan-Wan. He called him Little Feng-Feng.

But one day, Shen Gun solemnly informed him: he could no longer call him Little Feng-Feng because he had made a new friend who was much more important than Wan Fenghuo, and the name Little Feng-Feng had to be given to him.

At the time, Wan Fenghuo had shrugged, meaning it didn’t matter—he didn’t like either nickname anyway. It was just trading one unpleasant name for another.

But thinking about it afterward, he felt quite sour: Why? Why couldn’t I be called Little Feng-Feng anymore?

Mu Dai’s first communication with Shen Gun ended with them talking past each other. Shen Gun said: “Little Pocket, let me tell you, if you want to ask me questions, you need to present concrete facts—time, place, people, unusual circumstances. That’s the scientific attitude for conducting research. How can you just ask about someone who was originally good but got possessed and did bad things? What kind of question is that?”

Mu Dai emphasized: “My name is Mu Dai!”

“I don’t care what kind of pocket you are. The point is, questions aren’t asked randomly. They must be based on facts and get to the point. Prepare yourself and then ask me. I’m very busy now, writing a book. Call me back later.”

He’s even writing a book? Mu Dai suddenly felt reverent: Indeed, knowledgeable people are always willful, aloof, and unrestrained.

Mu Dai cast her bold aspirations toward Wan Fenghuo to the winds and thought sycophantically: Little Pocket actually sounds quite nice.

The next morning at breakfast, Yi Wansan asked Hong Yi for half a day off: “My brother Cao found a job at the restaurant diagonally across from us. It’s his first day, and I need to go help him get settled.”

Indeed, idleness isn’t a long-term plan. After being away for so long, one still needs to consider making a living. Lijiang has many restaurants and bars that hire and let go of staff at any time—the establishments remain, but the people flow through.

Hong Yi said, “You should go and see if there’s anything you can help with.”

Yi Wansan nodded vigorously, quickly finishing the porridge in his bowl: “I’ll head over now. It’s his first day, so there might be a lot to deal with.”

He left like a gust of wind.

Mu Dai complained indignantly: “Working at a restaurant isn’t like an emperor ascending the throne. How much could there be to do? Yi Wansan is trying to avoid work.”

Hong Yi smiled: “That Cao Yanhua is your friend, Mu Dai. You should go have lunch there at noon, show your support.”

This was her Aunt Hong, gentle and kind, beyond reproach. She paid money to the con artist Yi Wansan and was also thoroughly attentive to the smooth-talking Cao Yanhua, who had come from afar.

How could Aunt Hong be a bad person?

Mu Dai bit the end of her chopsticks: “Aunt Hong, that Li Tan, the one I mentioned to you…”

Hong Yi took a boiled egg from the plate, gently cracked it on the edge of the table, then rolled it on the tabletop to crush the shell: “Hmm?”

“He’s so devoted!” Mu Dai stared at Hong Yi’s face. “He’s always kept Li Yaqing’s photo in his wallet. Aunt Hong, did you know that Li Tan never married? He often took leave to investigate Li Yaqing’s case and was fired from his job. He had no choice but to open a small shop, but business isn’t good. His hair has already turned white, and his back is hunched…”

Hong Yi’s hand trembled slightly, then she said, “Oh.”

Mu Dai didn’t miss this detail. Steeling herself, she decided to add more: “It made me feel so sad. Think about it—a grown man, already old, having achieved nothing, still fixated on a case from twenty years ago. How loyal must he be? He also told me…”

She continued with emotion: “He also said he must find the killer, otherwise he wouldn’t have the face to meet Li Yaqing in the afterlife. He said, ‘If I could only do one thing in this lifetime, this would be it…'”

Hong Yi gently placed her chopsticks on the table and said, “I have a bit of a headache. I’ll go lie down in my room. Zhang Shu, please clean up.”

Mu Dai continued to bite the end of her chopsticks, her eyes darting around. After Hong Yi left, Zhang Shu said to her, “Young mistress, you’re acting strange today.”

Around lunchtime, Mu Dai went to Ju Xian Lou, where Cao Yanhua worked.

The building was a local old house, decorated in an antique style. The waiters wore traditional short garments with felt hats and white towels draped over their arms. They greeted customers with a bow: “Esteemed guest, please come in.”

On his first day of work, Cao Yanhua’s enthusiasm was high. His voice was an octave higher than everyone else’s, and he carried dishes with graceful steps, his call of “Coming!” lingering in the air.

He enthusiastically led Mu Dai to the second floor: “Sister Mu Dai, let me tell you, this is the best spot by the window, overlooking all of Lijiang. They don’t usually let just anyone sit here, but I told the other waiters to save it for my master…”

At this point, he lowered his voice: “Sister Mu Dai, please consider taking me as your disciple. This meal is on me.”

Mu Dai’s response was two words: “Ha ha.”

Cao Yanhua clearly understood the implication of these two words but remained undeterred. Mu Dai was a bit curious: “Why are you so keen on learning martial arts?”

“It’s my dream.”

“To make it easier for you to steal things?”

“How could that be?” Cao Yanhua said very seriously. “After being locked up for ten days last time, I came out a completely new person. Now I create wealth through labor…”

He lowered his voice again: “Sister Mu Dai, if you don’t accept me, I might go back to my old ways. Please consider it—think of it as eliminating a public menace.”

He was quite self-aware, knowing that he was a “menace.” Mu Dai sat down by the window and casually ordered a few dishes: “Where’s Yi Wansan?”

“Haven’t seen him.”

Just as expected. Mu Dai gritted her teeth and rested her chin on her hand, looking out the window.

Indeed, the view from above was excellent. The ancient city looked like a painting, with a different charm from this angle. The clusters of folk houses with their tiled roofs stood in neat rows. Many of the rooftops had ceramic cats on their eaves, symbolizing tigers that eat ghosts, to ward off evil and bring good fortune.

Looking further down, there was a broad avenue leading outward, wide enough for cars to drive side by side…

Wait, is that…?

Black Hummers aren’t rare, but one with hunting lights mounted on the roof—isn’t that Luo Ren’s car?

It was driving urgently, heading straight down.

Where could he be going? Mu Dai was somewhat bewildered.

The road was crowded with people and vehicles, making it impossible to drive fast. Luo Ren gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand, while his other hand trembled slightly.

“Uncle Zheng, don’t panic,” he tried to keep his voice calm. “Tell me slowly, what’s wrong with Pin Ting?”