As planned earlier, after parting ways with Qu Qiao, Jiang Lian contacted the young man from the rice noodle shop who had been his liaison.
He provided the license plate number and the street name near Qu Qiao’s home. The young man readily agreed, “That’s not difficult. I’ll make arrangements. Once we locate surveillance footage from that area, we’ll have them cornered. Within an hour at most, we’ll have results. Also…”
The young man hesitated.
Jiang Lian asked curiously, “What is it?”
After a moment’s hesitation, the young man continued, “I was planning to tell you later, as I haven’t connected with the other end yet. You see, we have a national system where all successfully closed cases are uploaded for colleagues across the country to review.”
Right, Jiang Lian had heard about this at noon. Shen Gun had even praised their advanced methods.
“They’ve started investigating residents near the crematorium. It’s a new case, which means Lord Yama’s case has concluded for now, so we uploaded it. Just now, when I checked the feedback, a colleague from the Northwest left a message saying he had seen this person when he was a child.”
The Northwest?
From Western Hunan to Guangxi and then to the Northwest—that was quite a range. Jiang Lian pressed, “Specifically, where in the Northwest? And when was your colleague a child?”
The young man replied, “I’m not very familiar with him, and he’s offline now. I’m trying to contact him. But according to his ID information, he’s from Qinghai, born in 1968, so his childhood would be around the 1970s. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Once everything is verified, I’ll contact you again. Rest assured, our motto is ‘professional and meticulous’—we won’t miss any clues.”
After hanging up, Jiang Lian fell into thought.
The 1970s, Qinghai…
It was possible. Lord Yama had abandoned his family and fled in the early 1960s, became a sanitation worker in the late 1980s, and died in a car accident in 1993. There were at least twenty to thirty years of his life that remained obscure.
In those twenty to thirty years, he could have gone anywhere. His appearance in Qinghai wasn’t surprising. Besides, his legs had been frostbitten before, which was entirely plausible in a high-altitude region like Qinghai, where people didn’t just suffer frostbite but sometimes froze to death.
Jiang Lian thought about informing Shen Gun, but reconsidered. It would be better to wait until the young man contacts his Qinghai colleague and gets clear information.
The young man had said it would take at most an hour to find information related to Meng Qianzi.
One hour—how to pass the time?
Jiang Lian paced back and forth at the street corner, observing the Boston ivy hanging from the wall and watching various vehicles passing by. He had initially wanted to organize his thoughts on what to say when he met Meng Qianzi, but the chaotic traffic and shifting headlights made it difficult to concentrate.
Why had Qu Qiao said that the people around Meng Qianzi, from Grand Auntie to Meng Jinsong, wouldn’t welcome him?
Jiang Lian found it puzzling: he didn’t have any ulterior motives, nor did he harbor any dark intentions toward Meng Qianzi. Up to now, they were just friends… perhaps a bit more than friends. Did such a relationship warrant being guarded against, blocked, and treated with hostility? Or were these people afraid he might get closer to Meng Qianzi and…?
That made sense. Jiang Lian smiled wryly. A prestigious house like the Mountain Spirits would naturally look down on ordinary backgrounds.
Background…
Jiang Lian sat down on the curb.
Near his feet was a drainage opening. Looking through the grate, he could see the light from the street lamps reflecting faintly on the pooled water below. He then looked up at the lamps above: perhaps the difference in family backgrounds was like the light above and the water below—the light naturally reached the water, but the light would never become the water.
A message arrived on his phone.
It was from the young man, with an address right at the top.
Jiang Lian jumped up immediately.
Tonight, his head was truly muddled, having sat idly for so long. How could he not have realized that Meng Qianzi was the Mountain Spirit Throne? Her most likely location would be Xiu Lan Residence in Guilin!
At the front desk of Xiu Lan Residence, there was a flurry of activity: service staff were busy stopping new reservations and adjusting rooms, converting the top floor into an exclusive area.
In the lobby’s waiting area, Meng Jinsong sat on the sofa, giving instructions to Lu Sanming. His face was expressionless as he sat comfortably with his back against the sofa. Beside him, Lu Sanming listened anxiously, sweating from his scalp and leaning forward until his backside barely touched the edge of the sofa.
Meng Jinsong said, “I don’t know how long Qianzi will stay here, and it’s inconvenient to call someone else on short notice. Since you’re familiar with this place, please manage everything while I’m on leave.”
Lu Sanming nodded vigorously, “Of course, of course. It’s my duty, as it should be.”
Despite his words, he recalled the scene from moments ago.
After that loud crash, fearing something had happened, he had hesitantly approached the door. He swore he had no intention of eavesdropping, but people inevitably follow others’ lead. He had glimpsed Xin Ci leaning toward the door, seemingly trying to listen, and with no one else in the corridor…
So unconsciously, he too had pressed his ear against the door. The voices inside were intermittent and unclear. Lost in the moment, he pressed closer, practically becoming one with the door, completely forgetting that Xin Ci was positioned near the door hinge, while he was at the edge.
He heard Meng Qianzi say, “Go back to Shangui Studio. Don’t show your face around me for a month. Didn’t you say your wife always complains that you’re never home? Perfect—go keep her company.”
Before Lu Sanming could react, the door opened.
In that scene…
Meng Qianzi had opened the door with Meng Jinsong standing at the edge, and his glistening bald head, like an offering on display, was fully exposed before them.
Fortunately, his lower body was stable; otherwise, when the door opened, he would have fallen in, making things even more awkward.
But standing there was already embarrassing enough. His old face turned as red as a baboon’s behind, the redness burning down into his neck and up to his shiny head.
Meanwhile, Xin Ci, using Lu Sanming’s fiery distraction, silently and elegantly moved away from the other side, leaning against the wall as if he had merely been contemplating life in the corridor.
Lu Sanming didn’t dare look up. He shifted his body, silently, silently making way for Meng Jinsong, who adjusted his collar and walked past him. Then, with a bang, the door slammed shut—it didn’t hit Lu Sanming, though he wished it had struck his head, knocking him unconscious, so he could be carried away, far away from this grand stage where his acting skills utterly failed him.
…
But no, things got even more awkward as he had to sit properly and listen to Meng Jinsong’s subsequent instructions. He felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, which made him increasingly admire Meng Jinsong: clearly, there was a reason he had become a special assistant—this ability to act as if nothing had happened showed a composure that Lu Sanming could never achieve in his lifetime.
Meng Jinsong continued.
“But the aunties will certainly be concerned about Miss Meng’s situation, especially with me not around. They’ll be even more concerned, and someone will come to ask you. Keep an eye out.”
Lu Sanming was utterly confused: Keep an eye out? How? And to what extent? Could Meng’s instructions be any more vague?
But Meng Jinsong decided to leave it at that. He stood up, pulling his suitcase, “Carry on with your work. No need to see me out.”
Like many hotels that value discretion, Xiu Lan Residence had a circular driveway at the entrance, requiring a loop to enter. Jiang Lian, not wanting to trouble the taxi driver, got out at the road entrance.
As he walked toward the entrance, he suddenly noticed a car stopped at the main door. Someone was putting things into the open trunk, and the figure looked like Meng Jinsong.
The person finished loading and went straight to the driver’s seat. Jiang Lian never saw his face, but as the trunk closed, he recognized the license plate number.
This license plate number had been sent for investigation not long ago, so it was fresh in his memory.
Jiang Lian’s heart skipped a beat: Was he… leaving?
He stopped, watching the direction the car was taking and backing up continuously. Originally, he had planned to intercept at the junction of the entrance and exit, but his expectations fell short, missing by a step.
Damn, this was incredibly unlucky. Without much thought, Jiang Lian jumped over the barrier and quickly gave chase.
At this starting speed, he could still catch up, and drivers usually check their rearview mirrors, so stopping the car shouldn’t be a problem.
Not long after Meng Jinsong drove off, he noticed someone following his car.
Looking closely, he recognized Jiang Lian.
He smiled slightly, stepped on the gas pedal, and kept an eye on the rearview mirror. When he saw Jiang Lian stop, panting and seemingly giving up the chase, he gradually reduced his speed.
Chasing a car in the city was different from an empty mountain road; one had to constantly avoid obstacles. Just as Jiang Lian felt hopeless, he suddenly noticed the car slowing down.
His heart lifted, and he hurried forward, taking three steps in two. But as if to deliberately taunt him, the car suddenly accelerated again.
Jiang Lian stopped moving. He didn’t believe Meng Qianzi would be so childish.
Not far away, the car also stopped by the roadside. The driver’s window rolled down, and soon, wisps of smoke drifted out. After a while, a hand extended, flicking away cigarette ash.
Even that flicking gesture seemed like a provocation.
Jiang Lian walked over.
As he approached, he saw that Meng Jinsong was indeed alone in the car, leisurely smoking and blowing smoke at the lucky charm hanging from the front.
Jiang Lian stood about a meter away from the driver’s side, watched him for a moment, and said coolly, “Assistant Meng, this is beneath you.”
Meng Jinsong smiled and offered his open cigarette pack, “Want one?”
Seeing Jiang Lian’s cold expression and silence, he withdrew his hand. “I don’t usually smoke, but now that I’m on a long break, there are no restrictions.”
“How could someone as dedicated as Assistant Meng take a long break away from Miss Meng?”
Meng Jinsong said, “When you left Yunmeng Peak, didn’t you leave your contact information and a painting for Qianzi? I burned them all, and she never received them—she found out today, flew into a rage, and told me to go home on leave.”
As he said this, he carefully observed Jiang Lian’s expression, expecting him to become agitated or angry, but neither reaction appeared.
Jiang Lian seemed to have known all along, showing neither surprise nor anger. After a pause, he asked, “Does Miss Meng always make friends this way, kept in the dark and inexplicably manipulated by others?”
Meng Jinsong answered, “Not if they’re just friends.”
At this point, he suddenly broadened the topic, “Did you know that years ago, Grandmother Duan fell in love with an Englishman? Unfortunately, he died tragically, and in her grief, Grandmother Duan traveled overseas, not returning for three years.”
Jiang Lian knew this was a lead-in, inevitably to something significant, so he listened quietly.
“When she finally returned to China, she was still under thirty, in her prime. Everyone hoped she would move forward. As the song goes, ‘When old love is lost, new companionship awaits’—so they would hint and suggest, indirectly expressing their intention to help her find a match.”
“Then one day, Grandmother Duan entered the Mountain Spirit Ancestral Hall at Shangui Studio. Before the statue of the ancestral grandmother, she vowed never to marry. After that, no one ever mentioned it to her again.”
Jiang Lian had an ominous feeling.
Meng Jinsong looked at him, seemingly wanting to smile, but his expression management failed so badly that the smile appeared strange and inappropriate. “About five or six years ago, Qianzi was the second person in all these years to make that vow.”
“At that time…”
He paused, slowly extinguishing the still-bright cigarette butt between his index finger and thumb, mixing an ambiguous burnt smell with the smoke, “At that time, I wanted to stop her, but I couldn’t. You don’t know, when her temper flares, she has a ‘kill Buddha if Buddha blocks the way’ attitude. There’s no stopping her.”
He crumpled the extinguished cigarette butt in his palm, “No one forced her. She was just too young then.”
“But you should know that people like us, raised in traditional customs, value promises greatly, especially vows made before ancestral grandmothers—since I couldn’t stop her, the words she spoke became embedded in her bones, to stay with her for life.”
“All these years, I don’t know if Qianzi has ever regretted it…”
Meng Jinsong stopped there. He wanted to take another deep drag of his cigarette, only to realize he had crumpled it beyond recognition. He thought about lighting another one, but had lost the mood.
Jiang Lian said, “So you’re preemptively guarding against me? There’s nothing between Miss Meng and me yet, and I’m already being obstructed from all sides…”
Meng Jinsong smiled, “Are you naive? Would we wait until she’s madly in love before taking precautions? Of course, we prevent trouble before it starts—nip it in the bud if possible. I admit I didn’t handle things honorably. Qianzi was quite upset at the time, but in the past few days, she’s gradually let it go…”
“If she hadn’t suddenly met you again today, wouldn’t the matter truly be over?”
He sighed deeply, “As for what’s between you two, ask yourself. Are Fifth Aunt and I just worrying unnecessarily, bustling about for nothing? I said this to Qianzi today as well, asking her to think clearly, not to make herself conflicted, which also makes it difficult for others.”
He started the car, “I’m leaving. A vacation is good. I, a respected Mountain Spirit assistant, spend my days blocking and guarding against such matters—even I find it stifling. Better to take a vacation.”
He stepped on the gas pedal and drove away in a cloud of dust.
When Jiang Lian returned to Xiu Lan Residence, he immediately sensed a different atmosphere. He was staying on the top floor, and as soon as he exited the elevator, he saw two people standing guard, looking down the corridor where another person stood outside a guest room door.
This must be Meng Qianzi’s room.
After some hesitation, he felt he should go over and greet her.
The person at the door recognized him as someone who had arrived with Shen Gun and didn’t stop him, tactfully stepping back some distance.
Jiang Lian knocked.
No one opened the door, but someone was inside; otherwise, the security outside wouldn’t have been upgraded.
He continued knocking, and finally, there was a sound from inside, seemingly angry, with something being kicked over midway. The sound approached the door and then quieted.
Jiang Lian knew she was probably looking through the peephole, so he smiled at it.
After a while, the door opened.
She had changed into a nightgown—a long, pearlescent satin robe that fell to her calves. She wore the hotel’s cotton slippers on her bare feet, her ankles slender and fair, without the gold bells, which, being valuable, were probably not worn casually.
She raised her eyes to look at Jiang Lian, then quickly lowered them. Her eyelids were slightly swollen and tinged with red. Looking behind her, chairs had indeed been toppled and tables flipped—Meng Jinsong was right; she had truly raged, wreaking havoc on the furniture.
What to say?
Jiang Lian recalled that he had originally come to explain, but now, it seemed unnecessary.
Instead, Meng Qianzi spoke first, “I just met with Shen Gun. He told me about your progress.”
Oh, right, Shen Gun. Jiang Lian had almost forgotten about him. Starting with Shen Gun was best, not sensitive or awkward.
He nodded, “Yes, starting from Lord Yama, many clues need to be sorted out one by one… Since you’re here, would you like to join us?”
Meng Qianzi smiled uncomfortably, “I think I’ll pass. I’m really… I’m extremely busy…”
Her entire body leaned against the side of the door, her nails lightly scratching one side of the door’s surface, “Very busy. I think I should return as soon as possible. So, thank… thank you both for your efforts.”
She stepped back, slowly closing the door.
Just as the door was about to close, Jiang Lian suddenly stepped forward and firmly held it open with one hand.