Luo Ren and Cao Yanhua arrived first at the door of Ma Chao’s hospital room.

Fortunately, everything was normal. The hospital was much livelier during the day than at night. People came and went in the hallway. Those sitting in the chairs outside the room should be Ma Chao’s family. When the door opened briefly, they couldn’t help but peek inside, their faces unable to hide their worry.

Would someone try to prevent Ma Chao from waking up to continue framing his little master? Perhaps. Cao Yanhua felt that keeping watch was necessary—better safe than sorry.

He said, “Since we’re taking shifts, I’ll take the first one.”

He waved his phone: “Brother Luo, if anything happens, send a message to the group.”

He opened the group chat, shared their earlier discovery, and reported that he would take the first watch. Yan Hongsha quickly replied: “I’ll take the second shift after you. Can we just have three shifts?”

Ma Chao’s family had some resentment toward Yi Wansan, so it wasn’t convenient for him to appear. Mu Dai couldn’t help either. The only effective shift workers were Cao Yanhua, Yan Hongsha, and Luo Ren.

Mu Dai replied using Luo Ren’s account with an extremely emotional cartoon beauty avatar, eyes brimming with tears, saying: “Thank you everyone for your hard work. Mwah!”

This, paired with Luo Ren’s profile picture, looked completely incongruous.

Before Cao Yanhua could snicker, Yan Hongsha sent a second reply—a video clip.

Luo Ren came over to watch.

The surveillance footage was just average quality at best. From the overhead view, mostly just heads were visible, and the phone recording made it even more difficult to see. Having watched it through, besides Yi Wansan, the only thing that left an impression on Cao Yanhua was a woman abruptly leaving the scene.

He had the same feeling as Yan Hongsha: “There’s someone who doesn’t like watching commotion.”

He asked in the group: “Could it be this woman?”

Yan Hongsha said, “You can’t suspect someone just because they’re the only person you can see clearly.”

Yi Wansan posted: “Agreed.”

Suddenly, someone who hadn’t spoken for days interjected.

Shen Gun: “What did you send? Signal’s bad, can’t see it.”

Cao Yanhua got excited: “Mr. Shen, are you at Hangu Pass?”

Shen Gun replied: “Hangu Pass isn’t fun.”

It seemed he had arrived. Cao Yanhua eagerly waited for more messages, but as usual, Shen Gun disappeared without a trace.

Cao Yanhua sighed: That’s how high-level people are—elusive like a divine dragon, appearing and disappearing at will, making such capricious statements.

He turned his head and saw Luo Ren frowning.

“Brother Luo?”

Luo Ren said, “Actually, those who particularly love watching commotion and those who particularly avoid it are equally suspicious.”

What? After Shen Gun’s interruption, Cao Yanhua had almost forgotten about this matter.

Luo Ren smiled: “It’s nothing. You take the first watch, and I’ll go check on Mu Dai.”

On the way back, he bought a packed meal for Mu Dai. While paying, he thought: All of them outside could eat whenever they were hungry, but only Mu Dai was waiting in the hotel, anxiously waiting for scheduled feedings.

He couldn’t help but smile.

Back at the hotel, he knocked on Mu Dai’s door and heard her say: “Come in.”

The door wasn’t locked. He turned the handle and entered, seeing her sitting on the sofa, chin raised, holding his phone, tossing it up, catching it, occasionally flipping it between her slender fingers.

This was the posture of an interrogation.

Luo Ren closed the door, walked to the coffee table to put down the takeout, and reached for the phone: “Give it to me.”

He didn’t get it. She moved very quickly, suddenly pulling her hand back and hiding the phone behind her, her back pressed tightly against it.

She looked at him with narrowed eyes: “Caught you this time, didn’t I?”

With that disdainful little expression, Luo Ren felt his teeth itch with annoyance. What did you catch?

He knelt on the sofa with one knee, reaching around her body to pry her arm, but Mu Dai was being difficult, twisting her body left and right so he couldn’t get to it.

She said, “A little sister called you.”

Luo Ren was puzzled: “Pin Ting called me? Shouldn’t it be Uncle Zheng?”

“Don’t play dumb, another pretty little sister.”

Oh, that’s it…

Luo Ren smiled meaningfully. He moved closer to Mu Dai and pinched her chin: “Girlfriend, if you’re trying to trick me, you’re still a bit too green.”

Mu Dai smiled, then tossed the phone aside and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

Luo Ren held her with one arm while picking up the phone with his other hand. There was indeed an incoming call, as he suspected, from Ma Tuwen.

He heard Mu Dai whisper in his ear: “You asked Wan Fenghuo to help find my mother?”

Luo Ren nodded: “Your approach wasn’t right. Wan Fenghuo is here, and he has resources.”

He sat down on the sofa, and Mu Dai sat up too. Her long hair had become disheveled from nestling in his arms.

Luo Ren said, “Come here.”

He gently pressed her head down and, following the part in her hair, smoothed each strand back into place.

Mu Dai said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I don’t have a good impression of your mother.”

Such a mother, who had only been with Mu Dai for three or four years, yet whose influence on her personality persisted to this day.

Whether they could find her or not, whatever information they discovered, he wanted to see it before Mu Dai did. If necessary, he would filter it appropriately.

Mu Dai sat up straight, thought for a long time, and finally said: “There are some things I can accept. You don’t need to worry about me too much.”

Luo Ren said, “Whether you can accept it is your business, but I’ll still worry. After all, while I have beautiful young ladies all over the world, I only have one girlfriend.”

Mu Dai laughed, then said: “Ma Tuwen said that for the time being, he hasn’t found much information, but he gave me a name and address.”

She gestured toward the coffee table, where a note was tucked under a cup.

Luo Ren picked it up and looked at it.

The name was Ding Guohua, and the address was in South Field.

He looked up at Mu Dai.

Mu Dai said, “This person has already retired, but over twenty years ago, he was a doctor at South Field Hospital.”

The past is difficult to completely submerge. People of an era share common memories. Twenty years is both long and short.

In South Field County, quite a few people still remembered that dark, square old building, and they remembered that woman with her provocative dress and flirtatious manner—after all, in that era, such a woman was completely at odds with social customs. She was an example many mothers would cite as a warning to their daughters.

—Don’t become like that woman…

Someone provided information that they had once seen Doctor Ding Guohua being pulled by that woman at the hospital entrance. The woman’s hair was disheveled as she tugged at his sleeve, saying, “Doctor Ding, please think of something. You’re the chief physician. What disease can’t you cure?”

How naive that thought was. Terminal illnesses would coldly laugh at every doctor.

Based on the timeline, the reason she went to pull at Ding Guohua was probably because she had learned she had a terminal illness.

Luo Ren looked at the address on the note again: “Do you want to find him?”

“Do you think he’ll remember my mother?”

Luo Ren pondered for a moment.

“I’m not a doctor. Doctors see too much death; I’m not sure if they remember every patient’s face. But twenty years ago, AIDS should have been quite rare…”

As he said this, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Mu Dai noticed: “What’s wrong?”

Luo Ren said, “Now, when we talk about AIDS, it seems commonplace, but twenty years ago, it was different.”

Previously, to dispel Mu Dai’s doubts, he had systematically researched the history of AIDS in China. The first indigenous AIDS case in China appeared in 1989. By the end of June 1998, with Qinghai Province reporting its first virus carrier, it marked the spread of AIDS to all provinces and regions in mainland China.

“Twenty years ago, before 1998, your mother’s illness might have been the first case in the province, or at least one of the first few cases. Under those circumstances, even if she wasn’t isolated, she should have received special attention. The local health department should have records, right?”

Luo Ren wasn’t in a hurry to find Ding Guohua. He searched on the South Field Health Bureau’s website, found the list of past leaders, and followed the trail to locate a retired bureau chief named Ma Quan.

According to the timeline, Ma Quan’s tenure covered that period twenty years ago.

Mu Dai wanted to come along. She proactively put on a hat and pulled up her mask.

Luo Ren felt sorry for her. Lately, she had suffered quite a few undeserved calamities. But sometimes, people truly withstand one round of hardship only to be prepared for an even greater ordeal next time.

Ma Quan wasn’t home. His family said he had gone to the Retired Cadres’ Home to play chess.

The Retired Cadres’ Home was next to the South Field County Clothing Factory. Following directions, they found Ma Quan—an old man with graying hair who wasn’t actually playing chess but was smilingly fanning himself while watching others play.

Luo Ren went directly to him and said, “Bureau Chief Ma, could I ask you about some professional matters?”

Ma Quan was quite pleased. After retirement, it was rare to hear people call him “Bureau Chief,” and to be asked about “professional” matters clearly showed respect for his authority. He pulled over a stool for Luo Ren and said, “Come, sit, let’s talk.”

Inside the room, there was the clattering sound of mahjong tiles.

Mu Dai stood beside Luo Ren. When Ma Quan looked at her, she quickly gave a heavy sneeze.

No wonder she was wearing a mask. Ma Quan understood: Oh, she has a cold.

He answered Luo Ren’s question: “AIDS—this disease—we haven’t specifically studied it. Of course, we listened to the instructions from higher levels. Prevention, education, and such—we did everything properly.”

Luo Ren tentatively mentioned a diagnosis from twenty years ago.

Ma Quan’s eyes widened: “How could that be possible?”

He explained: “At that time, the public’s awareness was relatively low, and psychological panic would lead to rumors. This situation is still common now. For instance, during the SARS period, when the government reported daily how many new cases appeared in which city, South Field didn’t have any cases yet, but people were saying things like ‘South Field has cases too, someone was taken away by an ambulance early in the morning,’ spreading it with convincing details. In such situations, we must urge the public to trust authoritative institutions and not be misled by rumors.”

He spoke in a practiced manner. During his time in office, he must have given many reports.

Luo Ren asked: “Are you certain there weren’t any cases at that time?”

Ma Quan fanned himself: “If there had been, given the situation then, wouldn’t the hospital have reported it to higher authorities? Who told you this?”

Who told him? Luo Ren was momentarily at a loss for words.

After saying goodbye to Ma Quan and leaving, Mu Dai said quietly, “I’m so stupid.”

Who had told her? An old woman selling spicy skewers near the site of the old building had told her. After hearing it, she had been devastated, frightened to tears, and had even called Hong Yi in panic.

Luo Ren pulled down her mask a bit and saw that her face was flushed bright red, like a small red eggplant.

She muttered: “Hopelessly stupid.”

Luo Ren smiled: “If a person knows they’re stupid, that’s quite smart.”

There was a ringing bell sound. The clothing factory next door was letting out, and the gates opened with many vehicles coming out—bicycles and electric bikes.

Luo Ren pulled Mu Dai aside to make way. They had just moved two or three steps when there was a crisp bell ring, and someone enthusiastically patted his shoulder: “Hey, young man!”

He turned around to see a smiling middle-aged woman’s face.

Luo Ren didn’t immediately recognize her.

The woman said, “You’ve been to my home before. Don’t you remember? My surname is Wu. You came by car that time.”

She looked at Mu Dai: “Your friend?”

Luo Ren suddenly realized: This was Wu Yuping!

Mu Dai became a bit flustered, trying to pull up her mask, while Wu Yuping continued chatting: “What a coincidence. I saw you as soon as I came out and thought you looked familiar. It took me a while to remember. When you get old, your mind just isn’t as sharp…”

Something felt… wrong…

Luo Ren looked at Wu Yuping, and as a thought struck him, he grabbed Mu Dai’s arm, signaling her not to put on her mask.

Then he pushed Mu Dai in front of Wu Yuping.

He asked: “You don’t recognize her?”

Wu Yuping looked at Mu Dai over and smiled: “Where would I have met her? I’ve never seen her before.”