After lunch, they departed on schedule.
It was rare for them to leave with such confidence. Huo Zihong, Zhang Shu, and Uncle Zheng all came out to see them off. Huo Zihong pulled Mu Dai aside to instruct her on many matters and pressed a red envelope into her hands, insisting she convey her respects.
Six people and one chicken made for a cramped car, so they agreed to take turns sitting with Cao Liberation in the extra seat in the back. Only Shen Gun was exempt—whenever Cao Liberation saw him, it would radiate the heroic spirit of its battle against the Leopard.
Luo Ren drove, but considering his physical condition, he would switch with Cao Yanhua along the way—and, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Cao Yanhua would handle most of the driving.
Facing numerous skeptical gazes from both his companions and the chicken, Cao Yanhua held his driver’s license high: “I have a license!”
Mu Dai: “Is it expired?”
“No!”
Yi Wansan: “Did you buy it?”
“Nonsense! It has an official stamp.”
Huo Zihong: “Did you just happen to pick up that stamp somewhere?”
…
Luo Ren couldn’t help but smile, but Shen Gun successfully diverted everyone’s attention.
With an astonished expression, he asked: “You need a license to drive?”
Cao Yanhua was speechless: “Mr. Shen, isn’t that common knowledge? What did you think you needed to drive?”
Shen Gun said, “I thought you just needed money.”
Luo Ren laughed, making too large a movement, which caused his wound to ache faintly. Mu Dai reached forward from the back seat and carefully pressed on his injured area. Luo Ren lowered his head, rubbing his chin against the back of her hand, indicating: It’s nothing.
After leaving the ancient city, they first went to a private rehabilitation center. Qingmu was waiting at the entrance and led Luo Ren and Mu Dai to see Tasha.
The three of them—one in front, two behind—passed through the reception hall on the first floor to take the internal elevator.
This rehabilitation center had been recommended by Zheng Mingshan’s friend. The first floor and above were open to the public, while the underground area had long-term cooperation with the police and even Interpol, providing discreet treatment not available in regular hospitals.
A doctor was already waiting outside a room. When he saw them approaching, he slid open a small door in the main door. Inside was a one-way observation window with audio vents allowing them to hear the sounds from within.
The walls were padded, and the furnishings were simple. Even the bed was a cornerless air mattress. Tasha lay on the soft carpet, flipping through a picture book. It was in Chinese, which she couldn’t understand, but with a child’s mindset, she enjoyed looking at the pictures regardless.
She hummed a song, intermittently and out of tune.
Without the door and lock, it would have been such a heartwarming scene.
The doctor’s brow was furrowed, his outlook not optimistic.
“…She’s received poor guidance and influence, making her very different from normal children her age. We gave her some test questions.”
“‘What is a knife used for?’ The most common answer from children her age is: ‘For cutting vegetables.’ Her answer was: ‘For killing people.’ When answering, she even made a stabbing motion…”
Luo Ren’s eyes moistened slightly as his thoughts suddenly drifted to the past.
—A row of more than ten grown men standing in formation, uniformly unzipping their pants. He turned back and commanded: “Tasha, stand guard!”
Tasha’s body stiffened. She swiftly turned around, stamped her foot, covered her ears, and stood completely motionless.
He took a deep breath, interrupting the doctor’s observations: “Can she see me?”
The doctor hesitated for a moment: “Yes.”
He needed to half-crouch. The lower half of the door had another small sliding panel with specially made two-way glass.
Luo Ren slowly crouched down.
Tasha giggled at some page she was looking at and happened to glance up, seeing Luo Ren.
It’s impossible to describe the change in expression on that child’s face. Her smile froze, transforming in an instant into a grimace as she lunged forward, her small fists pounding fiercely against the glass.
Dull thuds—bang, bang, bang—followed by kicks. Finding no weapons nearby, she threw the book. This time, Luo Ren saw clearly that it was “Snow White.” On the page, the blonde Snow White smiled sweetly as the book was hurled against the glass, then slid down.
—”Daddy, will you come to Australia to see me?”
The sliding panel was closed. Mu Dai reached out to support him: “Luo Ren, let’s go.”
…
After leaving the hospital, Luo Ren sat on the steps outside for quite a while. The sunshine was pleasant but too bright to open one’s eyes fully. In the nearby flower bed stood an osmanthus tree, its fine, scattered golden petals forming a thin layer on the lawn.
Mu Dai sat beside him, picking up a couple of osmanthus flowers from the ground and placing them in her palm. She puffed out her cheeks and blew them away with a single breath.
She said, “Tasha is a little star that flew away from you. But perhaps someday, she’ll fly back.”
The universe is so chaotic, with so many unexpected collisions. Who knows, maybe one day this star will shine in your sky again.
Luo Ren smiled and said, “You’d better not fly away, girlfriend.”
On the long journey, the car drove straight, turned, and changed direction. Even the most beautiful scenery becomes tiresome after a while. Even Cao Liberation grew impatient and dozed in its cage.
The liveliest time was mealtime. The car was stocked with snacks, and the crisp sound of tearing open packages invigorated everyone’s spirits.
Shen Gun revisited an old topic: What exactly did “hide” refer to?
One thing was certain—Leopard didn’t know where the seventh ominous slip was. Her subordinates had once searched for it, even approaching Ya Feng.
Cao Yanhua suddenly asked: “How did Leopard find the sixth ominous slip?”
Leopard’s great-grandfather had a map of China hanging in his room, with a crooked spoon-shaped line drawn across it. He constantly mumbled about going home but never set foot on the mainland in his lifetime.
Luo Ren pondered for a moment: “Leopard’s ancestors fled in a hurry, all the way to Southeast Asia. Let’s make a bold assumption—her ancestors also worshipped the ominous slips.”
“After fleeing, certain information would inevitably be passed down through generations. Leopard’s great-grandfather thus knew this story well and was aware of the ominous slips’ special effects on the human body.”
“Later, when Leopard was injured—in Interpol’s words, no longer possessing behavioral capacity—she had fought me and fallen from a building. Logically, even if she didn’t die, spinal damage and brain injury would have made it impossible for her to stand again.”
“Under these circumstances, her great-grandfather suddenly thought of the ominous slips and sent Leopard’s subordinates to enter China first. But he only knew the geographical distribution of the previous cycle of ominous slips, which is why Leopard’s subordinate appeared in Shibanqiao Town in Zhejiang, in the photo Qingmu obtained.”
Cao Yanhua still didn’t understand: “But we all know that the distribution of this cycle’s ominous slips had already changed. And these locations on a map are just points—in reality, they could cover large areas involving thousands or tens of thousands of people. Without special methods, they’d be impossible to find.”
That was correct. Without special methods, they’d be impossible to find, but what methods were used?
Luo Ren frowned. Leopard could no longer answer this question. Her great-grandfather, over a hundred years old in Medan, might be dead or alive—no one knew. To get answers, they could only ask her subordinates who had been captured and taken back to the Philippines by Interpol.
Luo Ren pulled over to the side of the road.
The stopping place was near a small village, filled with the sounds of chickens and dogs and the rich atmosphere of daily life. Everyone got out to stretch their legs. Cao Liberation was extremely excited, happily charging into a group of local hens, only to discover that the local chickens were xenophobic. After a chaotic scene of scattered fleeing and flying feathers, only Cao Liberation remained standing alone, its small eyes infinitely forlorn.
Cao Yanhua consoled Cao Liberation: “Liberation, they just don’t appreciate you. They’re not suitable for you.”
In the distance, Yi Wansan sat on a rock with a blade of grass between his lips, saying: “Even Cao Liberation knows to pursue love, while Fat Cao only knows how to chase mountain chickens—right, Hong Sha?”
Huo Zihong ignored him.
In fact, since morning, she hadn’t spoken a single word to him. Even when, after Zhang Shu spoke up, his face paled as he declared “I’ll write, I’ll write right away,” she had only replied: “I don’t care. A gentleman doesn’t eat food given with contempt.”
Once a relationship is broken, rebuilding it is incredibly difficult.
Yi Wansan’s face was full of smiles: “Hong Sha? Little Sister Er Huo?”
As he called to her, he waved his hand in front of her eyes. Huo Zihong swiftly and decisively slapped his hand away, then turned in another direction.
There, Shen Gun was practicing with a slingshot at a scarecrow placed high up. Small clods of dirt and pebbles whistled through the air, passing above, below, and to the sides of the scarecrow.
It was truly admirable—not a single hit.
Luo Ren was making a phone call in the distance with Mu Dai beside him. Originally, the two thought they were far enough from Shen Gun, but he could always send a small stone whooshing in their vicinity.
Each time this happened, Luo Ren would pull Mu Dai away a bit, so Shen Gun wasn’t entirely without achievement—Huo Zihong thought he had driven Luo Ren and Mu Dai at least half a li away.
She was curious: Who was Luo Ren calling?
The call was to Zheng Mingshan, asking him to have his friends inquire about what Leopard’s subordinates had done when they first entered China. He specifically instructed Zheng Mingshan to ask skillfully, to present an attitude of “I know what you did, I’m just seeing if you’ll be honest about it.”
Zheng Mingshan laughed dryly: “Luo Ren, there’s no need for your reminder. My friends are no worse than you.”
Luo Ren felt embarrassed by his comment. After hanging up, he smiled at Mu Dai: “The regular army looks down on our makeshift troupe.”
Mu Dai fed him a cracker covered with fine salt and pepper grains. It was truly delicious.
After a while, a call came in from an overseas number.
It was likely a Southeast Asian, speaking very stiff Chinese: “Mr. Luo, Mr. Zheng gave me your number and told me to speak with you directly.”
That was Zheng Mingshan’s personality—no interest in being a messenger, letting them talk directly.
Luo Ren gave an affirmative sound.
“The information Mr. Zheng inquired about—we had already interrogated about this. There were indeed some strange occurrences. But Leopard was of Chinese descent, and we consulted East Asian subject experts who believed it was just an ancient and superstitious Chinese ritual with no practical significance. You know, China is vast, and customs differ every ten li. This wasn’t our primary concern.”
Luo Ren glanced at Mu Dai, indicating there was indeed something, then switched his phone to speaker: “I’d like to know the details.”
Mu Dai waved Yi Wansan and the others over. As they approached, she put her finger to her lips while pointing at the phone, meaning: Just listen carefully.
According to Leopard’s subordinates, after her injury, internal strife and chaos erupted within the organization. Since she was unlikely to survive, everyone was pushing her down, and new leadership was emerging.
Some even contemplated “finishing her off” completely to eliminate dissent.
Leopard’s loyal followers acted quickly, rushing her to their rear base on Samar Island overnight.
Different doctors—domestic and foreign, either hired with money or kidnapped—came and went at the secluded seaside house on Samar Island. Leopard’s great-grandfather, trembling while leaning on his cane, watched everyone with cloudy eyes.
Later, Leopard’s life was saved, but her spinal cord was severely damaged, and part of her brain was injured. She could no longer speak, and one eye was completely blind, leaving only one functioning eye.
Such a person could no longer rule Medan. With the tree fallen, the monkeys scattered—everyone sought their future. In the end, only a dozen or so people remained.
Leopard’s great-grandfather began spending long periods in Leopard’s room, mumbling incessantly in her ear. Being elderly, his speech was lisping and unclear. No one cared what he was saying.
Then one day, he gathered these people around Leopard’s bed and told them to go to China to do something—pray for Leopard, for a divine miracle.
An old man near death, truly having wild fantasies. Moreover, most of them had never been to China.
But Leopard’s great-grandfather said it was Leopard’s order.
Luo Ren was puzzled: “Leopard’s order?”
“Yes. She couldn’t speak and was completely paralyzed, but her eyes could move. In front of her bed was a 26-letter alphabet keyboard. When a letter was pressed, a light would illuminate. To prove this was Leopard’s order, someone would press the letters on the keyboard. If they pressed the letter she wanted, she would blink her one eye.”
“What was her order?”
“Very simple, four letters, two words: do it.”
Seven people were chosen. A nurse drew a large vial of blood from Leopard. Leopard’s great-grandfather dipped a brush in the blood and painted seven pictures.
Luo Ren pressed: “What kind of pictures?”
“They’ve all been burned. I can only provide a simple description.”
“In the sky was an eye with a strange pupil—curved and slender, like a spoon. Below the eye were various death scenes.”
“A person was being chopped with a knife, pushed into a river to drown, hanged with a rope, buried in soil to suffocate, set on fire to burn, and so on.”
“It’s said that in each death scene, there were characters. But they couldn’t recognize them. They were shown Chinese characters but said they didn’t look similar and couldn’t be identified.”
“Each person took one picture and went to seven different locations, spanning a large area—almost half of China’s territory, from west to east. On starry nights, they burned the pictures but had to bring back the ashes.”
“Finally, the seven people gathered in a small town in the east, known to be related to Leopard’s Chinese ancestors. They mixed the ashes in a glass container with an open mouth and placed it in a room.”
Luo Ren’s eyes narrowed: “And then?”
“They said they had to wait. According to them, on the seventh day, when they happened to check the room, they saw strange changes in the ashes in the glass container. Many stood upright in the container, forming a rectangle. After this change, they immediately sealed the glass container and brought it back to Samar Island.”
“They don’t know what happened after that. Mr. Luo, Leopard later suddenly became active as normal. We never understood why. Perhaps it was the power of your country’s mysterious sorcery.”
Luo Ren smiled slightly, not knowing how to respond.
Before hanging up, the person seemed to remember something: “Oh, one more thing that might be useful to you. Leopard’s great-grandfather died not long after they returned to Samar Island. It was a natural death. When he died, he was holding the empty glass container with a smile on his face. According to the person who cared for him, he kept saying, ‘It’s open, it’s open again.'”
…
Fields, villages, in the distance, a few scattered farmers perhaps discussing this year’s crop harvest. Nearby, they were just emerging from a twisted and bizarre story.
Luo Ren said, “The sixth ominous slip actively appeared, seeking them out.”
Perhaps they had sensed something was wrong and were no longer docilely remaining in place, bound.
Shen Gun suddenly murmured: “Heaven opening its eye.”
Huo Zihong was puzzled: “What heaven opening its eye?”
Did Shen Gun mean that heaven had eyes? Leopard obtaining an ominous slip was heaven being blind—how could that be called heaven opening its eye?
Shen Gun seemed dazed, his gaze somewhat scattered as he stared vacantly at the Hummer parked in the distance.
“That day, when Little Pocket brought back ‘Zi Bu Yu,’ I said I wanted to study it, so I reread it completely.”
“There’s a story in there called ‘Heaven Opening Its Eye,’ very short. It tells of a scholar who was sitting idly at home one day when he suddenly heard a boom. Looking up, he saw a crack open in the sky—wide in the middle and narrow at both ends, shaped like a boat. Inside, it was flashing a clear light, round like an axle. It took a long time to close.”
“The person who just called said that the old man drew pictures with an eye in the sky. It does seem like… heaven opening its eye…”