By the time they finished, it was already evening.

The matter with Elder Lady Duan had concluded. Logically, they should inform Gao Jinghong, but the First Madam was advanced in years and poor health. After much hesitation, Meng Qianzi called Qiu Biying instead—Fifth Mother was still at Shanguizhai these days, making her the most appropriate person to relay the message.

Qiu Biying had a fiery temperament. Upon hearing that her family elder had died at Yanluo’s hands, she erupted in curses. But after listening to the various experiences of Yanluo, she felt a chill run down her spine and fell silent for a long while.

Finally, she asked: “So what do you plan to do next?”

Meng Qianzi thought for a moment: “We don’t have many leads right now, so I’ll follow whatever threads we can find. Yanluo said he found the dragon bone fragments at Zhenlong Mountain. I plan to stay here a few more days and check the mountain records to see what’s there.”

Since Meng Qianzi was busy with important matters, Qiu Biying couldn’t say much, but after a pause, she asked: “Is that Jiang Lian still there?”

Her tone was gentle, but Meng Qianzi still felt inexplicably annoyed. Her brows furrowed repeatedly as she patiently explained: “Jiang Lian is helping the Kuang family find their box, and the Kuang family is an important part of this whole affair. How could we leave him out?”

Qiu Biying hesitated: “Has he, toward you…”

Meng Qianzi flared up: “No! No! Jiang Lian has been seriously working on this matter and has no time to pursue me. Am I so special? Am I some delicious pastry? Does everyone fancy me? Fifth Mother, can you stop coming up with these ideas?”

Seeing her outburst, Qiu Biying no longer needed to hide her concerns: “Little Qian, look at you getting angry again. You know that’s not what Fifth Mother meant.”

Seeing her cautious tone, Meng Qianzi felt guilty and softened her voice: “Fifth Mother, you can be one hundred and twenty percent assured. Jiang Lian has never said he likes me—if he doesn’t say it, am I supposed to rush over and tell him not to like me? He’d reply, ‘Miss Meng, you’re overthinking things… Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?”

Qiu Biying laughed on the other end: “True. If he doesn’t speak up, that’s one thing. But if he does… Little Qian, for his sake and yours, don’t drag things out and waste his time. Make a clean break when necessary.”

After hanging up, Meng Qianzi lost all enthusiasm. After sitting idly for a while, she grabbed a blanket and went outside.

The night was already quite deep.

This village was a mixed settlement with Zhuang, Yao, and Han ethnicities. Though their attire showed significant differences, the architecture had no typical style. Pixiu’s people had rented several courtyards in a row, and the most decent one was given to Meng Qianzi’s group.

This small courtyard resembled a typical farmhouse courtyard with strings of bright red dried chilies hanging under the eaves. The yard gate had only a frame but no door, probably because everyone was familiar and there was no need to guard against thieves.

In the courtyard were several coarsely woven bamboo loungers for summer relaxation. Although it was late summer and the loungers hadn’t been put away yet, the nights had grown chilly. Meng Qianzi went and lay down, covering herself with the blanket.

The bamboo strips beneath her felt cool, while the parts covered by the blanket were quite warm. This contrast between top and bottom was rather comfortable.

Meng Qianzi had been lying there for a while and was just drifting off to sleep when she heard a door opening in the room behind her, followed by someone running outside. As they passed by the lounger, the person made a surprised sound: “Qianzi, why are you sleeping here?”

It was Jiang Lian.

Meng Qianzi pulled her blanket closer and asked: “Where are you going?”

Jiang Lian pointed outside: “To use the motorhome.”

The village was too remote, with inadequate infrastructure. There were no toilets inside the houses, and people typically used outhouses in the wilderness. Meng Qianzi’s motorhome had a wastewater tank, so “using the motorhome” was a euphemism for using the toilet.

Meng Qianzi glared at him: “Did I permit you? Is it free? One yuan per use!”

Jiang Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry: “I’ll pay you later.”

“No way. Pay first, then board the vehicle.”

Jiang Lian had no choice but to dash back, returning with his phone in hand, tapping on it as he walked. Meng Qianzi heard her phone receive a message. When she opened it, she saw that Jiang Lian had sent her a red envelope containing 1.5 yuan.

He called out to her: “Keep the change. The extra fifty cents is a tip for you—so dedicated, watching the toilet in the middle of the night.”

Meng Qianzi felt both irritated and amused as she watched him disappear beyond the courtyard gate. When she went to collect the red envelope, just before tapping on it, a wave of despondency washed over her, and she suddenly felt quite dispirited.

Jiang Lian had no intention of provoking her, so why was she deliberately provoking him?

She put down her phone, nestled deeper into the blanket, and pulled it up to cover most of her face.

Stars were scattered across the sky, and nameless insects chirped intermittently at the base of the wall. Occasionally, from some unknown direction, came the sound of a dog barking—a dog’s bark in the dead of night can make people anxious, as if ghosts were passing by or thieves scaling walls.

Familiar footsteps approached—Jiang Lian had returned. He said to her, “Are you going to sleep out in the open like this?”

Meng Qianzi replied: “I’m not bothering anyone.”

Jiang Lian smiled and went straight back to his room. Seeing him leave just like that, Meng Qianzi felt somewhat disappointed—but he came out again very quickly, even better equipped than she was: besides a blanket, he also had a pillow.

Jiang Lian lay down on the lounger next to hers. When he turned to look at her, he noticed she had no pillow: “Doesn’t that make your neck uncomfortable?”

“A bit.”

“Then go get one.”

That would be too much trouble. Meng Qianzi responded: “I can endure it.”

One’s endurance could be used for many things, but using it for laziness wasn’t ideal. Jiang Lian was speechless. After a pause, he instructed her: “Lift your head a bit.”

Meng Qianzi raised herself slightly, and when she felt something soft being placed under her head, she relaxed back down.

Every time she took advantage of Jiang Lian, she felt a particular sense of achievement.

Jiang Lian chided her: “You’re so lazy that you’d rather sit in the dark watching over a toilet than take a few extra steps to get a pillow.”

Meng Qianzi replied leisurely: “I am lazy, but aren’t I using a pillow now? Some people are frugal and hardworking, but what does it matter? The food they save gets eaten by others, and the pillows they bring get used by others.”

Jiang Lian had no rebuttal, so he changed the subject: “Before going to sleep, Shen Gun told me that since we have no new leads, he wants to go to Kunlun.”

Meng Qianzi said, “I don’t object to going to Kunlun, but I suggest waiting until we have more specific clues. Yanluo only said ‘in Kunlun,’ and Kunlun Mountain is enormous.”

“That’s what I told him, too, but then I thought, his going to Kunlun might yield something.”

What did he mean by that? Meng Qianzi turned to look at him.

Jiang Lian explained: “Shen Gun is a treasure. Right now, besides not overlooking any small clue, we have to rely on him—remember how, at first, just hearing the name ‘mountain gallbladder’ made him dream about finding the box?”

Meng Qianzi nodded: “And the mountain gallbladder responded to him. When he held it in his hand, visions appeared… And that fake Yanluo seemed to know him, too.”

Jiang Lian continued: “I think these visions and sensations will continue to appear as long as he comes into deeper contact with certain things. If Kunlun Mountain truly is the place where the boxes were counted and the dragon shadow appeared, then once he arrives there, as long as he gets close to the original site, he’ll likely sense something.”

Meng Qianzi understood: “You’re using him as a probe?”

Jiang Lian made an affirmative sound.

Let this human-shaped probe roam all over Kunlun Mountain. Perhaps he could help everyone with basic positioning, better than blindly searching the mountain.

Meng Qianzi thought for a moment: “If that’s the case, I suggest another, more sensitive probe should accompany him.”

Jiang Lian was curious: “Who?”

“Kuang Meiying. Her blood can open the box—her body is already showing abnormalities, but according to what you’ve said, the closer she gets to the box, the more soothed she’ll become, and her blood should become calmer. Her blood is the most sensitive signal, much more reliable than Shen Gun’s vague sensations.”

Jiang Lian didn’t respond immediately. After a while, he said: “Are you suggesting she should occasionally let blood… to test the distance to the box? Wouldn’t that be too painful for her?”

Meng Qianzi said, “There’s something Kuang Tongsheng said that I quite admire: Kuang Meiying should do something for her fate, rather than sitting back and letting you risk your life out there. What’s wrong with letting a little blood? The water ghost family has lost so many lives and still hasn’t found a resolution.”

That was true.

Jiang Lian no longer insisted: “I’ll call Meiying tomorrow. Kunlun Mountain is a harsh, cold place; she’ll need to be prepared for hardship.”

Mentioning Kuang Meiying suddenly triggered a concern that had been on Meng Qianzi’s mind. After much hesitation, she finally couldn’t help but ask: “Why didn’t you let Kuang Meiying like you back then?”

Jiang Lian was taken aback, then laughed: “Is that so hard to understand? When a person’s life isn’t even their own, shouldn’t their feelings at least be free?”

“Back then, I sensed Master Gan had this intention, and discovered I was the primary candidate. If I had liked her, that would have been one thing, but I didn’t like her, so naturally I was averse to the idea.”

“But living under someone else’s roof and receiving their kindness, I didn’t want to handle things too dramatically. After much thought, I realized it was quite manageable: as long as Meiying didn’t like me, everything would be fine, because although Master Gan leaned toward old-fashioned arranged marriages, he doted on Meiying and wouldn’t go against her wishes.”

Meng Qianzi was curious: “So what methods did you use?”

“Many,” Jiang Lian found it amusing even now as he recalled. “I behaved badly, acted like a playboy, chasing one girl today and getting bored with another tomorrow, skipping school, smoking, hanging out in bars, stealing… I did everything that would repulse her. The result…”

From his tone, it seemed the result wasn’t quite as expected.

Sure enough.

“I quickly realized I was acting in vain. Meiying liked Wei Biao, which explained why she always looked at me with that pitying gaze one reserves for fools, while earnestly urging me to pull back from the brink and return to the right path.”

Oh my goodness, Meng Qianzi curled up in her blanket, laughing uncontrollably.

Jiang Lian smiled as he watched her. He loved seeing Meng Qianzi laugh; when she was happy, he felt happy too. Just as now, making her laugh made those embarrassing moments from the past seem somewhat worthwhile: “That wasn’t even the worst part. She went and reported me to my foster father. Mind you, I had done all those things in front of her, fearing she might not see them. So now there was both witness and evidence, with specific times and places that couldn’t be denied.”

“My foster father was an old-fashioned man who believed in ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ When he heard about this, he was furious. He had quite a few men working for him at the time, and with one command, they strung me up and beat me so badly I couldn’t get out of bed for half a month.”

Though it sounded quite miserable, Meng Qianzi couldn’t bring herself to feel sympathy for him; she just wanted to laugh.

“That’s not all. Meiying brought me food, full of righteousness and a serious expression, saying, ‘Jiang Lian, I’m doing this for your good. You might not understand now and may be angry with me, but in the future, you’ll be grateful.”

Meng Qianzi laughed until her stomach hurt.

Jiang Lian sighed: “Afterward, I was quite resentful, thinking that as a handsome young man, how could Meiying not fall for me… but it turned out she was interested in Wei Biao. My misjudgment earned me a beating.”

Meng Qianzi suddenly felt pensive and murmured: “Yes, you think because you’re attractive and wealthy, everyone should like you, but that’s not the case… People’s thoughts are so hard to fathom. Some design ways to make people dislike them, while others design ways to make people like them.”

Jiang Lian sensed there was more to her words, but didn’t feel it appropriate to probe. After a moment, he said: “If someone is designing to make you like them, then you should be careful. Such a person certainly doesn’t truly like you. True affection can never be engineered.”

True affection means constant worry, complete lack of method, no tactics, and no logic; it means being at a loss, tongue-tied, just wanting to offer you a trembling heart.

After a long silence, Meng Qianzi finally replied: “Yes.”

How strange—though they had been conversing pleasantly, the atmosphere suddenly turned somber. Jiang Lian hadn’t yet had time to ponder the reason when he heard a door being yanked open behind them, followed by someone running barefoot, the sound of skin slapping against the ground creating a patter of noise.

Jiang Lian and Meng Qianzi both sat up and turned to look.

It was Shen Gun, rushing anxiously to Jiang Lian’s door, seemingly intending to knock, then realizing the door was already open, which left him momentarily confused.

Jiang Lian coughed lightly a couple of times and called to him: “Over here.”

Shen Gun pattered over, breathless, with an urgent expression, blurting out: “Little Lian Lian, I just… had another dream.”

Damn, they had just been talking about this, and now he’d had a dream. Meng Qianzi’s heart leaped with excitement as she sat up, wrapping herself in the blanket.

Jiang Lian was much calmer. He gestured toward the empty lounger: “Come over, sit down, and tell us slowly.”

He had suspected earlier: with Shen Gun “recognizing an old acquaintance” and having watched the water ghost’s video, with so much information flooding his mind, he was bound to remember something and have another dream or two.

Shen Gun had fallen asleep pondering Meng Qianzi’s question.

—Where had the dragons gone? Where had those other boxes gone?

Then, he gradually drifted into sweet slumber.

In his dream, towering mountains stood tall, with the moon high in the sky. The open wilderness was illuminated like a white canvas. A massive bonfire burned, its flames nearly reaching the heavens. Many people sat around the bonfire, forming an enormous circle.

Just like before, he couldn’t make out their attire or appearances clearly, only vaguely aware that there were many people, many figures swaying. Looking up, he saw the massive cliff face.

On the cliff wall, a bird’s shadow moved.

This time, he knew what bird it was because he saw the long tail feathers projected onto the cliff wall.

Thinking of those magnificent plumes…

It must be a phoenix!

He wanted to turn his head to see the phoenix’s true form, but for some reason, his neck was stiff and wouldn’t turn. On the cliff wall, the phoenix shadow spread its wings, soaring upward with the wind, its beautiful silhouette fully extended.

Shen Gun stopped his narration here, his eyes fixed straight ahead, seemingly still immersed in the dream scenario.

Meng Qianzi couldn’t contain herself: “Then what happened?”

Shen Gun murmured: “Then… it fell.”

“It fell into the bonfire, into the circle of people?”

Shen Gun shook his head: “No, it fell as if it died. You knew it was dead, that it would never fly again, that it had expired mid-flight and fallen helplessly—that kind of fall.”

It died?

Jiang Lian asked: “What makes you say it died? After all, you only saw the falling shadow.”

Shen Gun sighed.

Because afterward, the entire gathering erupted in lamentation.

He was among them, also wailing. Even in the dream, he could feel that sense of helplessness and despair. Then, wave-like sobs and whispers spread around the bonfire.

…

Jiang Lian’s heart stirred: “Were they speaking?”

Shen Gun nodded.

“Were they speaking in a language you could understand? I mean, they were probably speaking in ancient language or an obscure dialect, not in standard Mandarin, right?”

Shen Gun was taken aback. He had never considered this question. After careful recollection, he chose his words carefully: “The language they spoke, I actually couldn’t understand. It was completely different from today’s standard Mandarin, but in the dream, as soon as I heard it, I could comprehend and understand what they were saying.”

Understanding now, Jiang Lian gestured for him to continue: “What were those people saying as they wept and wailed?”

Shen Gun swallowed.

What those people were repeatedly chanting and singing in low voices all expressed the same meaning.

—The last qilin has departed, the golden-winged phoenix has reached its end, and only our aging dragon still soars in the sky, but it flies slower and slower, with no clouds accompanying its sides anymore.

—Without their guidance and companionship, where shall we go? Our glory and splendor will be like the burned-out bonfire, never to shine again…

These lamentations, murmured and broken, spread across the bright wilderness, carried by the wind to far, far away.

Just then, there was a thunderous boom, making the surroundings tremble. Even the ground seemed to tilt for a moment. The bonfire still burned, but all the whispering voices ceased abruptly. The surroundings became terrifyingly quiet, with a suffocating tension and fear pervading the air.

Meng Qianzi’s heart was in her throat. She couldn’t stand such suspense and pauses, almost wanting to grab Shen Gun by the collar to force him to continue: “What happened? What was that sound? Didn’t anyone go check?”

Shen Gun’s answer nearly made her faint with frustration: “I wanted to go see what happened, too, but I woke up, didn’t I?”

After a moment, Jiang Lian softly replied: “The qilin left, the phoenix died, and now this loud sound… perhaps the dragon has… fallen.”