On the eighth day after returning to Lijiang, Yi Wansan woke up to bright sunshine.

He lingered in bed for a while before forcing himself to get up—he had a mission to fulfill, going to the morning market to buy groceries for Phoenix Tower.

This was expected; he’d known what awaited him upon returning.

Among the five of them, only Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha had passed through unscathed: Mu Dai because she was still considered an invalid, with Huo Zihong treating her with utmost care, just having her back was already a blessing.

Yan Hongsha was an outsider. She could roam outside for as long as she wanted; even if she tied herself to balloons and flew to the moon, Zhang Shu and Uncle Zheng wouldn’t hold it against her. At most, they’d suggest: “Those balloons don’t look sturdy enough, why not tie a few more?”

But for them, there was no such lenient treatment.

When Zhang Shu saw them, he said, “Well, look who’s here! Rare guests indeed. The last time we met was ten years ago, wasn’t it?”

He and Cao Yanhua could only nod meekly and swallow their pride, all for the sake of a roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in.

Fortunately, they still had their bunks reserved for them.

Passing Uncle Zheng’s inspection was also difficult—his strategy was to say little, only giving them one deep look.

Silence spoke louder than words, making every hair on their backs stand on end.

So for the past couple of days, they’d been exceptionally diligent. Yi Wansan took over all the grocery shopping duties for Phoenix Tower—potatoes, cabbage, lamb legs, cured meat, rice, flour, soy sauce, MSG—haggling with vendors and meticulously selecting items every day with great vigor. He practically lived at the market—he heard that several fishmonger aunties thought Yi Wansan was quite handsome and privately called him “the market’s fresh meat.”

Cao Yanhua took on all the heavy cleaning work while also enthusiastically soliciting business. After two days, he’d gone through three boxes of Golden Throat Lozenges before finally earning a smile from Uncle Zheng.

Making a living was truly difficult.

Yi Wansan hastily washed up, afraid of missing the freshest batch of meat and vegetables at the morning market. With a large red-white-blue plastic bag slung over his left shoulder and a folding cart pulled by his right hand, his appearance was identical to that of a bargain-hunting auntie during a supermarket sale.

He felt miserable. Not long ago, he was the handsome bartender at the Casual Gatherings Bar, occasionally dealing in counterfeit liquor and wooing pretty girls—life couldn’t have been more carefree. Just a few months later, while others paid attention to stock market fluctuations, he only watched vegetable price changes.

How had all this happened? He couldn’t figure it out, no matter how hard he tried. Was it from the first time Luo Ren appeared at the bar? Or when Fatty Cao boasted about opening his shop with a golden Dao symbol embedded at the entrance?

As he passed through the bar’s main hall, the wheels of his little cart squeaked noisily.

He spotted Cao Yanhua with his back turned, hunched over a table by the window, busily writing something.

Curious, Yi Wansan let go of his cart and tiptoed over, stretching his neck to peek from above.

Cao Yanhua heard the movement and quickly flipped the paper over.

Yi Wansan had only caught half a sentence:

—Heard that my second cousin is getting married…

He rolled his eyes at him: “A family letter?”

Cao Yanhua remained silent.

“What era are we living in that you’re still writing letters? Just make a phone call.”

“Your second cousin is getting married? Don’t you need to go back? Will you send a gift?”

No matter how Yi Wansan prodded, Cao Yanhua remained tight-lipped like a sealed jar.

The market’s situation was unpredictable, and there was no time to waste. Yi Wansan lost patience: “How pretentious.”

With that, he grabbed his cart and left, the wheels squeaking all the way.

Cao Yanhua continued writing his letter.

—Heard that my second cousin is getting married. Wishing you a century of happiness together. Due to busy work commitments away from home, I cannot return. Please find enclosed 500 yuan.

He hesitated over the signature, looking left and right to ensure no one was watching, then quickly scribbled it like a thief.

He folded the letter, smoothed it out, and stuffed it into an envelope.

Just as he sealed it, Mu Dai came downstairs and said, “Fatty Cao, time for training!”

Cao Yanhua hurriedly stuffed the letter into his pocket.

Previously, Mu Dai had taught him kung fu but hadn’t been very serious about it, as if teaching him mere showy moves. But since returning, there had been a noticeable change. She had even drawn up a training progress chart for him: when he would be able to complete a full set of forms, when he could run three steps up a wall—all laid out clear and detailed.

When he showed it to Yi Wansan, the latter clicked his tongue: “Would the little boss lady be this meticulous?”

He predicted Mu Dai’s strictness wouldn’t last three seconds: “Probably because you helped her in Nantian, and she’s momentarily touched.”

But that wasn’t the case. She had genuinely transformed into a “stern teacher.”

She specially found a thin bamboo branch, carefully whittled it down, softened it over fire, soaked it in cold water, and coated it with a layer of oil.

After drying, the thin bamboo branch became as tough as leather, making a whip-like crack when swung through the air.

At that time, Cao Yanhua was still ignorant and asked her: “Little master, what’s this for?”

She answered: “To whip you.”

Cao Yanhua, confident in his thick skin, looked down on the bamboo branch that wasn’t even as thick as chopsticks. He soon learned his lesson, though—the thing hurt when it struck! Especially with Mu Dai’s strength behind it. One quick, accurate, and fierce lash to his calf made his entire body quiver and howl in pain.

After a few days of this treatment, his kung fu truly improved, and he gradually became wary of Mu Dai. Where before he would call her “sister” or “little master,” now he called her less often.

Today’s goal was to run three steps up a wall.

Mu Dai demonstrated for him: a running start, a charge, one foot stepping on the wall, the other foot following with momentum, arms extended to grab the top of the wall, then pull up.

She did it so effortlessly and gracefully that before Cao Yanhua could see clearly, she was already standing on top of the courtyard wall.

The requirements for him were lowered—today he didn’t need to get on top of the wall, just hang from the edge for ten seconds to pass.

Cao Yanhua tried several times. His first step on the wall was executed perfectly, but he couldn’t generate any momentum with his other foot. Zhang Shu passed by and thought Mu Dai was teaching him to kick walls, which greatly displeased him: “How can the wall withstand his kicks?”

After dozens of attempts under the scorching sun, dizzy and bleary-eyed, he finally managed something close to the proper form, but was always just a bit short—his arms stretched out but couldn’t quite reach the top of the wall.

Cao Yanhua was nearly in tears: “Little master, my arms are too short.”

Mu Dai said, “This has nothing to do with your arms. You’re starting your push too low.”

She stood by the wall and instructed: “Try again.”

Cao Yanhua took a deep breath, got a running start, charged, and planted one foot on the wall.

Just as he pushed against the wall, Mu Dai’s bamboo branch struck his bottom hard. Cao Yanhua’s buttocks clenched reflexively, and, as if by magic, his other foot pushed higher, allowing his arms to reach and grab the top of the wall.

Tears nearly sprang from his eyes.

Mu Dai said from below: “Hold on. Ten seconds. Don’t come down until I say so.”

Those ten seconds turned out to be the most grueling time. Cao Yanhua’s face turned bright red, his arms trembling like leaves as he clung to the wall.

Mu Dai narrowed her eyes and leisurely watched. So close, yet worlds apart.

Looking down, she saw a letter lying on the ground.

She picked it up and saw messy handwriting. The address was very long, beginning with: Chongqing, Kaiyuan County, Daba Mountain…

Mu Dai asked Cao Yanhua, “Is this yours?”

Her only response was the loud thud of his body hitting the ground.

As the lunch rush approached, everyone went to help at Phoenix Tower. Uncle Zheng found a moment to ask Mu Dai, “When is Hongsha coming back?”

“Yan Hongsha had gone to Kunming to sort out her family’s mess. A few days ago, she called Mu Dai crying that she couldn’t understand anything, saying she just signed whatever they told her to sign. She didn’t want the house and wouldn’t take a single brick.”

Mu Dai answered: “In the next day or two. The house and furniture weren’t enough to cover the debts, but fortunately, those people had some relationship with her grandfather and said they’d write off the small remainder.”

“So she’ll be living in Lijiang from now on?”

“She wants to come. She doesn’t have any friends left in Kunming. Hong Yi has been preparing a room for the past few days. When Hongsha arrives, she’ll stay with us first.”

Uncle Zheng exhaled: “That’s wonderful. I’ll have one more worker.”

Mu Dai asked him: “What about Luo Ren? How’s he doing?”

Uncle Zheng glared at her: “You pretentious little girl, stop acting. How would you not know how he’s doing?”

Mu Dai pressed her lips together and smiled.

Luo Ren had left Lijiang with Pin Ting the day after he returned, going to Dr. He Ruihua’s psychological clinic.

There were phone calls every day, so Mu Dai knew perfectly well how he was doing.

Moreover, when occasionally chatting with He Ruihua, she would mention Pin Ting.

She said, “It’s not severe, just excessive shock from a traumatic event. So for now, we’re focusing on medication and physical therapy. Later, I want to try… a more unorthodox approach, like… scene reconstruction.”

Mu Dai said, “Luo Ren doesn’t agree, right?”

He Ruihua sighed: “Yes, even I worry about making things worse instead of better. If only she could communicate rationally with me like you do.”

The topic then turned to Mu Dai: “I also talked with Luo Ren about you, asking if he noticed any differences.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he could feel changes, but thought they were all reasonable.”

Mu Dai remained silent.

He Ruihua said, “If a house appears overnight on an empty lot, everyone would be surprised. But if they witness the foundation being laid, walls being built, beams going up, and the roof being completed step by step, they’d find it quite normal—isn’t that what we want?”

After the lunch rush, Mu Dai got the keys from Uncle Zheng and took Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan to Luo Ren’s home. First, they emptied the room containing the evil bamboo slips, temporarily moving everything to Luo Ren’s bedroom, including the fish tank.

While moving the tank, Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan hardly dared to breathe. In the gently rippling water, the four evil bamboo slips bobbed up and down. Yi Wansan asked Cao Yanhua, “Don’t you think the characters on the slips look brighter?”

Cao Yanhua replied: “Four out of seven have been caught. They’re getting desperate.”

Around two o’clock, the pre-arranged bricklayers arrived by truck, its bed full of red bricks and cement.

Mu Dai led the foreman into the room and pointed to the positions she had previously marked with a pen, instructing him to build a wall there, but to leave a one-meter square window near the edge of the wall.

This was Luo Ren’s earlier suggestion—to partition the room to create a hidden chamber for storing the evil bamboo slips, with the entrance concealed by a painting or something else. To outsiders, the room would just seem smaller; no one would suspect such an old house would have secrets.

It wasn’t a big project. The foreman and his two assistants got to work quickly.

Mu Dai stayed in the room to supervise, though it wasn’t necessary and hindered their work. As she awkwardly moved back and forth to stay out of the way, Cao Yanhua poked his head in from outside: “Little master, have you seen what Shen Gun posted in the group chat?”