Some words might hurt when spoken, but they are truths nonetheless.

Relatives may grieve, while others have already moved on to celebration. Depending on the closeness of relationships, what feels like earth-shattering devastation to you becomes, for different friends, merely a collapsed house, a leaking roof, a restless tossing at midnight, or just a sigh during an idle moment.

On the third day, the “Gather and Disperse at Will” bar opened for business. As Zhang Shu put it, the earth keeps turning, and business carries on.

On the fifth morning, Mu Dai pushed open her bedroom window and saw Cao Yanhua below, huffing and puffing as he stretched his legs, bent at the waist, and practiced running up walls in three steps. Cao Jiefang was leisurely drinking water from the sink, occasionally fluffing his feathers as if stretching after waking up. Yi Wansan had a red, white, and blue plastic bag slung over his shoulder and a folding cart in his left hand, heading toward the market in the sunshine. From downstairs, Zhang Shu’s booming voice echoed: “Chinese cabbage, pork ribs, potatoes, and salt! If there’s good yellow rice wine, buy two bottles!”

Yan Hongsha had also gotten busy, sweeping the floor and wiping tables, eagerly taking on the dirty and heavy work. When Zhang Shu praised her with a beaming smile, she was very serious: “Uncle Zhang, I’m not working for free. It’s a fair exchange—you have to pay me wages. I’m someone who needs to repay debts.”

Everyone had their anxieties. She constantly remembered her need to help Old Man Yan and her uncle Yan Jiuxiao repay the debts they left behind.

Shen Gun had temporarily left as well, staying with a good friend in another nearby ancient town. In his words, he had no progress in his “research” here and felt uncomfortable staying.

However, before leaving, he finally persuaded Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha to go to the small room that housed the deadly clues and try another water vision.

This time, although Luo Ren was still absent, the scenes and information they obtained were much more abundant than in the previous attempt.

Streets and alleys, tricks similar to those performed at Tianqiao, the brass gong resounding, a makeshift stage set up, many novel and exotic performances: monkeys doing arithmetic, mice carrying a flower sedan chair. But the most eye-opening was a dog that could recognize characters.

A pile of square papers with large characters written on them was arranged haphazardly. The dog lowered its head, pawed around, sniffed, and picked out the characters for “Congratulations,” “Happiness,” “Prosperity,” and “Wealth” in sequence.

One spectator heckled: “This doesn’t count! Dogs have a keen sense of smell. Who knows if the papers were scented!”

The troupe leader smiled accommodatingly: “What would the brother like to suggest?”

“Let me write the characters. If the dog can still recognize them, then I’ll be truly impressed!”

The onlookers disagreed: “That won’t work. Who knows if you and the troupe leader are in cahoots, acting together!”

In other words: What if you’re a plant?

The troupe leader bowed repeatedly to the crowd: “Then what does everyone suggest?”

Someone proposed: “Let’s have Teacher Wei from our Longzhen private school write them. Wouldn’t that be fair?”

He ran off, and after a while returned, followed by a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl wearing a pipa-collared shirt in spring green. She had large eyes, and due to a young woman’s natural curiosity, her fair cheeks were flushed. In her hand, she held a paper filled with characters.

The crowd noisily parted to make a path for her, then surrounded her again. Nothing could be seen, but waves of cheers could be heard, each louder than the last. The performance inside must have won unanimous applause.

……

After hearing their account of the water vision, Shen Gun frowned.

Those so-called monkey arithmetic tricks and dogs recognizing characters were like modern magic—they all had their secrets.

For instance, with monkey arithmetic, several monkeys would rush to answer. The troupe leader would pose a question: “What is one plus one?” Look, that mischievous monkey raised its hand and showed two fingers. Very good, rewarded with a banana.

In reality, the monkey didn’t understand addition, subtraction, multiplication, or division at all. It had been trained to show two fingers. When it looked at the troupe leader, it saw the teaching rod pointing toward the crowd, but the fingers under the rod were pointing at itself. It understood, it was its turn to answer, so it quickly showed two fingers. If it didn’t, it would be whipped.

Therefore, these street performers would never dare hand control to hecklers who didn’t understand the trade. If they did, the act would immediately fall apart and be exposed.

He couldn’t figure it out—there was some trick to this water vision.

Counting on his fingers, seven water visions were needed to complete the entire story, and they were still missing one.

Perhaps Yin Erma’s seven keys, combined with the sect secrets that only Mu Dai knew, could unlock further clues. But with Luo Ren’s current condition, even Zheng Mingshan had told Mu Dai “not to rush back,” so how could they ask this of her?

Shen Gun thought for a moment, feeling somewhat reluctant: “Would that silver-eyed bat fly without you?”

He reasoned: Even if Mu Dai couldn’t come along, he could go first.

Mu Dai gave him a look: “What do you think?”

True enough. A rare contraption created by the cunning mind of Lu Ban wouldn’t just fly for anyone.

With no progress for the time being, he had to temporarily “retreat.” Before leaving, he pulled Cao Yanhua aside and instructed: “Use some discretion and give Little Pocket some encouragement. It’s been seven sevens already—if Little Radish doesn’t wake up for years, are we just going to ignore the deadly clues?”

……

On the seventh day after Luo Ren’s coma, Phoenix Tower opened its doors.

Having experienced Luo Wenmiao’s violent death and Pin Ting’s prolonged illness, Uncle Zheng viewed things more openly than others. He calmly marinated the lamb leg for the day and said to Mu Dai, who had come to help: “Although Little Knife Luo left quite a bit of money, it won’t last forever if we just spend without earning. Hospital expenses are so expensive. If he never wakes up, the costs will be a major problem. We need to consider having a steady income…”

……

You see, even if someone’s life comes to a standstill, most people still need to continue living.

Mu Dai also seemed to recover quickly. In the mornings, she would teach Cao Yanhua martial arts—no longer those ambiguous moves, but a complete set of techniques. She practiced with him, breaking down each move step by step for him to see.

She helped out at both Phoenix Tower and the bar. When people spoke to her, she would smile faintly.

But she ate very little. When she sat at the table, she would pour back most of the food she had served herself. She explained to Huo Zihong: “Auntie Hong, I can’t eat much. If I eat too much, the food seems to pile up in my throat, and I can hardly breathe.”

She rarely touched the dishes either. If you mentioned it, she would bite her chopsticks and say, “It’s a bit greasy. It makes me feel uncomfortable inside.”

The more calm she appeared, the more worried Huo Zihong became. She took Mu Dai aside specifically to talk, saying, “Mu Dai, no matter what happens to Luo Ren, please don’t think of doing anything drastic.”

Mu Dai smiled and said, “Auntie Hong, I won’t do anything drastic. I haven’t finished what the Master entrusted me to do. Senior Brother, Hongsha, and the others risked their lives to save me. If I did something drastic, it would be too unfair to them.”

Having said this, she patted Huo Zihong’s hand and turned to leave, attending to her tasks. Huo Zihong stood there stunned, thinking: When did this little girl become so sensible and articulate?

Unlike Yi Wansan and the others who visited Luo Ren every other day, Mu Dai went every day.

After just a few such trips, the hospital became as familiar as home.

When she arrived, if it wasn’t visiting hours, she would breathe on the observation window and use her finger to write all kinds of words on the glass surface.

Once, a young nurse joked with her: “The way you keep writing like this, after a long time, you might wear through the glass.”

After saying this, she suddenly realized the joke wasn’t appropriate, as if cursing the patient to never wake up. She left awkwardly with a smile, and the next time she saw Mu Dai, she instinctively avoided her.

Mu Dai didn’t take it to heart at all.

If she happened to arrive during visiting hours, she would sit by the bedside for the entire time. During these moments, Qingmu would watch from outside the observation window. He had no home here, no miscellaneous duties, and stayed at the hospital for meals and lodging, which allowed him to maintain a 24-hour vigil.

Whenever Mu Dai came, he would become tense, perhaps still concerned about the “sudden outburst” that might occur due to her brainwashing.

Before leaving, Mu Dai would gently hug Luo Ren, press her cheek against his, and murmur a few words in his ear.

These moments were both the most relaxed and the most exhausted times of her day.

She would say, “Little Knife Luo, it’s okay to sleep for a while, but don’t sleep too long. I’m very worried that one day, I might get used to it, become lazy, and only come to see you once every ten days or half a month. How could that be good?”

Looking up, she would see Qingmu outside, his face tense. Mu Dai thought it was good that Luo Ren had such a friend, and she also found it quite amusing to tease Qingmu like this every day.

As she left, she would say to Qingmu: “Are you worried I’ll kill Luo Ren? If you’re worried, don’t stand outside. I’m quick with my hands—I could stab him while hugging him, and you wouldn’t be able to save him in time from out there.”

Qingmu would be too embarrassed to respond.

After saying this, Mu Dai would laugh and ignore him, putting her hands in her pockets and slowly going downstairs. She didn’t like taking the elevator; the narrow space was too stifling. She would walk alone in the stairwell, counting each step, listening to her own footsteps, thinking: How many steps do I need to accumulate before Little Knife Luo wakes up?

On the first-floor corridor, there was a display case called “Patients’ Garden,” with content that changed every two days. Mu Dai habitually stopped to look up at it when she passed by.

The content was quite ordinary—seasonal health tips, three points to note for preventing spinal diseases, how bedridden patients can prevent muscle atrophy, and so on. Young people would not be interested, as Mu Dai noticed each time she finished looking and was about to leave, she would find elderly men and women standing beside her.

She would slowly walk back to the bar, digesting what she had read along the way.

—So in summer, one should eat more bitter foods, like honey and bitter gourd. When she managed their household in the future, if Little Knife Luo was obedient, she’d serve bitter gourd with honey; if not, he’d only get plain bitter gourd.

—For bedridden patients, if they remain immobile for a long time, their muscles would atrophy to some extent. Who knew how long Luo Ren would have to lie there? Next time, she would bring a small hammer with the head wrapped in cotton cloth to tap his legs and arms. Tsk, tsk, Little Knife Luo would be so pampered—this was the life of a wealthy landlord from the old society…

On the scenic road crowded with tourists, she giggled out loud.

When she returned to the bar, business didn’t seem busy. She went to her room first, climbing the stairs step by step. At the turning point, Auntie Hong and Yan Hongsha were coming down. Mu Dai smiled and lowered her head to make way, when Huo Zihong suddenly exclaimed, “Mu Dai!”

Mu Dai looked up curiously and said, “Huh?”

Huo Zihong gripped the handrail tightly, her face alternating between pale and flushed, her lips trembling slightly. After a while, she forced a smile and said, “Nothing. You’re back from seeing Little Knife Luo?”

Mu Dai answered, “Yes.”

Huo Zihong watched her leave, hearing her footsteps going all the way up, the light creaking of the wooden floor, and then the sound of a door closing.

Her legs weakened, and she nearly collapsed on the stairs. Yan Hongsha quickly supported her. She clung to Yan Hongsha’s arm like a lifeline, repeatedly muttering, “Hongsha, did you see that? Did you see?”

Huo Zihong’s vision gradually blurred.

Mu Dai had white hair now. Just then, when she lowered her head, strands of white showed at the roots of her loose hair.

Huo Zihong herself was in her forties and well-maintained, but still had no white hair. How old was Mu Dai? Just a young girl.

In the middle of the night, Huo Zihong couldn’t sleep, worrying whether Mu Dai was sleeping well. She got up, found the key to Mu Dai’s room, held her breath, and opened the door very gently.

As soon as she pushed it open, what she saw nearly made her cry out.

Mu Dai wasn’t sleeping. She had moved a chair in front of the window and was sitting there hugging her knees, looking outside. The moonlight shone in, illuminating her body, both front and back, in a silvery glow.

Hearing the sound, she turned her head and said, “Auntie Hong.”

Calmly and softly, she explained to Huo Zihong: “Auntie Hong, it’s not that I don’t want to sleep. I know that to have the strength to do things, I need to take care of my body. But I can’t sleep. Every time I lie in bed, thinking about Little Knife Luo lying there too, I start to panic and can’t breathe. I can only feel comfortable sitting up.”

She reassured her: “Don’t worry, Auntie Hong. Sometimes I can fall asleep sitting like this. As long as I sleep, I can restore my energy. It’s not a problem.”

Holding back tears, Huo Zihong looked out the window.

For the first time, she realized that from Mu Dai’s window, one could see Luo Ren’s room.

She heard Mu Dai murmur, “Once I woke up in the middle of the night and saw the light on in Little Knife Luo’s window. I was so happy. Then I realized it was Uncle Zheng turning on the light to look for something.”

She sighed and gently rested her chin on her knees.

Huo Zihong put a blanket over her shoulders and quietly closed the door as she left.

As she closed the door, she realized her tears wouldn’t fall—perhaps they had already dried up inside her eyes.

There was no way to comfort Mu Dai with words, just as you can never wake someone who is pretending to sleep. You can never comfort a girl who sees through everything more clearly than you do.

The next day, Huo Zihong deliberately went to see Luo Ren at a different time than Mu Dai. Before leaving, she pulled Yan Hongsha aside and said, “When you have time, talk more with Mu Dai and try to console her.”

Yan Hongsha said, “Oh.”

She understood the principle, but how should she “talk” and “comfort”?

After Huo Zihong left, she pondered for a long time, hesitating and stammering, then went upstairs, circling Mu Dai’s door several times before finally knocking.

Mu Dai came to open the door, first opening it just a crack. Seeing it was her, she smiled and opened it wider.

No wonder she was so cautious—she had just finished bathing, her hair was wet, and she was still wrapped in a towel.

After letting Yan Hongsha in, she went to the mirror to blow-dry her hair. The hairdryer turned on with a buzzing sound.

Yan Hongsha talked about various things amidst the appliance’s noise.

—Mu Dai, everyone’s been tired these days. Why don’t we go out for a walk when we have time? Shen Gun said his friend in the nearby ancient town also runs an inn, and it’s fun. He invited us to go.

—Mu Dai, yesterday I heard Cao Yanhua telling Yi Wansan that Cao Jiefang has done a great service, and they want to give him an award and have him walk the red carpet.

The appliance suddenly stopped.

Mu Dai called to her: “Hongsha.”

“Huh?” Yan Hongsha looked up and met Mu Dai’s gaze in the mirror.

Mu Dai stood in front of the mirror, pulling down the towel wrapped around her body to reveal the wound on her collarbone.

“Ugly, isn’t it?”

It had been over half a month. The wound had been stitched up and treated with good medicine. It had scabbed over, but during her bath, perhaps because the water was too hot or she had scrubbed too hard without realizing it, the scab had come off, revealing the newly formed, tender pinkish flesh underneath.

Mu Dai said, “I won’t be able to wear spaghetti straps anymore.”

Yan Hongsha frowned, thinking for a while, then suddenly blurted out, “Let’s get a tattoo.”

She gestured: “Have you read Tang Dynasty tales? There’s that Shangguan Wan’er who was punished by Empress Wu Zetian—her face was branded, leaving a scar on her forehead. She was very clever and had a plum blossom tattooed over the scar. It looked beautiful. Women in the palace all imitated her, and later it became the famous ‘plum blossom makeup.'”

“What should I get tattooed, then?”

Yan Hongsha’s eyes darted around: “Get a phoenix tattoo, Mu Dai.”

“This time, you escaped death—isn’t that like a phoenix rebirth? And we’re the Phoenix Squad…”

She got excited as she spoke, running over and tilting her head to look at Mu Dai’s collarbone: “A phoenix tattoo would look especially good. Your collarbone is well-shaped—a phoenix tattoo would be very sexy.”

Mu Dai smiled, then after a pause, softly said, “That’s a good idea.”

At the same time, in the hospital room, Huo Zihong, who was talking to Luo Ren, suddenly became angry.

She shook Luo Ren’s body and asked him: “Are you listening to what I’m saying? Little Knife Luo, either wake up or leave cleanly. Mu Dai used to only cry. Now she doesn’t cry, but she’s so worried. I’d rather she cried…”

Her tears blurred her vision. In her daze, medical staff hurriedly entered, half-persuading, half-pushing her out. Qingmu stood before her with a livid face, speaking to her stiffly, as if saying that from now on, please don’t disturb Luo so rudely.

……

Mu Dai clearly remembered that it was the twenty-fourth day after Luo Ren’s coma.

That night, the bar was especially lively, playing exaggerated heavy music. Both Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha were helping take orders. The atmosphere was high-energy. Cao Jiefang spread its small wings and ran back and forth on the limited space of the bar counter. Many customers took photos of it, and Cao Jiefang had become quite practiced—when a camera was pointed at it, it would strike a pose, very professional.

Mu Dai wondered why everyone was so happy.

While taking an order from a customer, she happened to turn around and saw Cao Yanhua taking a phone call. After hanging up, he looked excited and shouted something toward her.

What? The music was too loud for her to hear. She made a puzzled gesture toward Cao Yanhua, who was anxiously jumping up and down, shouting a few more times, then suddenly yelled at Yi Wansan.

Later, Mu Dai learned that he had been shouting: “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

The music suddenly stopped, and the entire bar was thrown into the confusion that follows when background noise is suddenly removed. Mu Dai saw Cao Yanhua climb onto the bar counter and shout toward her: “Little Master, my Little Brother Luo is awake!”

Is that so?

Mu Dai didn’t react immediately. The customer whose order she was taking said something to her, and seeing she wasn’t paying attention, tugged at the hem of her apron, saying, “One Blue Mountain coffee, please.”

Mu Dai said, “Alright.”

After taking the order, she still stood there without moving. Tears dripped onto the glass counter, one drop, two drops.

The customer looked up at her curiously. Mu Dai smiled through her tears and said, “Thank you.”