Li Jin Yu took his grandmother and Ping An to Xu Mei Lan’s house. The day before, Tou Ju Hua had adamantly refused to go, but the next morning she got up unusually early. The old lady, who typically needed Li Jin Yu’s repeated urging just to take a bath, even washed her hair for the first time in ages. While Li Jin Yu was blow-drying her hair, he caught a faint whiff of talcum powder. “Do you have a heat rash?”

“You’re the one with a heat rash,” the old lady muttered.

She was using body powder to mask her scent. Everyone said elderly people had a particular smell. Li Jin Yu didn’t mind it, and neither did Ye Meng. But Ye Meng’s grandmother might not be so accepting. When Xu Mei Lan had visited her at the hospital last time, she’d been surrounded by a cloud of fragrance.

After her hair was dried, Tou Ju Hua rolled her wheelchair back to her room, rummaging through drawers and cabinets for a long time until she finally pulled out a new outfit from the bottom of her trunk. Just as she was about to change, she turned around to find her handsome grandson leaning against the doorframe, watching her with an amused half-smile.

Embarrassed that her fussy preparations had been discovered, Tou Ju Hua felt flustered and barked furiously, “Close the door! An old lady has no dignity—you think you can just watch me change clothes?”

Li Jin Yu wouldn’t dare. Despite his current reduced circumstances, he was still a gentleman at heart who afforded basic respect to women of all ages. He knew to make excuses and step away even when little girls were changing clothes. When he’d first returned home, he’d felt quite uncomfortable. He had never lived in such a small house before. The entire room’s usable space was probably smaller than his previous bathroom. Li Jin Yu had been completely stunned when he first followed his grandmother through the door.

Li Ling Bai had so much money, yet she hadn’t bought a decent house for her ex-husband’s mother. The old lady seemed to know what he was thinking and immediately explained that she had refused any help. His grandmother had a stubborn streak and refused to take Li Ling Bai’s money.

The old lady hadn’t thought her house was small until Li Jin Yu arrived. That’s when she realized how cramped it was. Li Jin Yu was tall, a young man in his prime. When he entered, he stood like a poplar tree in the middle of the room. The light fixture was an old-fashioned hanging lamp that descended straight from the ceiling. Li Jin Yu often bumped into it. Sometimes when the old lady was sewing something in her room, she would see the blurry lamp shadow swaying in the living room and know he had hit it again, followed by a low “fuck.”

It was a typical expletive for young men. The old lady had often heard Yang Tian Wei say it, but Li Jin Yu rarely did—only when he was irritated or in a hurry. At the time, Tou Ju Hua had been wearing her reading glasses, carefully threading a needle, and she had imitated him with pursed lips, grumbling, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. What’s there to fuck about?”

Li Jin Yu had been afraid of awkward bathroom situations then, only using it when his grandmother went out for a walk. At night, he would wait until she was sound asleep before running the water for a shower or lighting a cigarette.

He suffered from insomnia, and when he couldn’t sleep, he would sit in the small courtyard smoking all night. His grandmother slept well, unlike most elderly people who were light sleepers and woke at the slightest noise. The old lady slept like a log and rarely got up during the night. He had just returned from death’s door then, approaching everything with indifference and rarely talking. He had always maintained a dismissive attitude toward his grandmother, sometimes pushing her away when annoyed. He could maintain the bare minimum of gentlemanly conduct, but his gentlemanly demeanor was completely absent. With extreme world-weariness, he would tell her, “Can’t you leave me alone?”

The old lady also had a bad temper. Seeing that this grandson wasn’t easy to discipline, she would slam down a bowl and say, “Eat or don’t eat, I wouldn’t bother with you if you weren’t my grandson!”

Li Jin Yu, driven by youthful pride and anxiety, would throw away his half-smoked cigarette. “Then why doesn’t my mother care about me?”

The old lady was always frugal and couldn’t stand waste. Regardless of what kind of temperament this young master had before, she would pick up the cigarette from the ground, dust it off, and stick the filter back in Li Jin Yu’s mouth. “If you’re going to smoke, finish it. Next time you throw away a half-smoked cigarette, I’ll hit you.”

The young master had quite a good temperament. Everyone praised him for being smart and well-mannered, but when he had an episode, he was like a small beast trapped in a cage, letting out powerless yet ferocious howls. In truth, this seemingly fierce aggression was somewhat bluffing, at least in front of his grandmother. The old lady remained unruffled by storms, but she had a bad temper and would hit people—it was said that his grandfather had died from her beatings. Of course, that was just a town rumor; Li Jin Yu knew his grandfather had died from illness.

Li Ling Bai never hit him; she only used emotional coldness. The old lady wasn’t afraid to get physical. When angry, she would slap his back hard, just like Tai Ming Xiao’s grandmother, who chased Tai Ming Xiao with a feather duster without pausing for breath, able to run halfway across Beijing.

Li Jin Yu gradually adapted. His relationship with his grandmother became increasingly harmonious. His temper grew more and more restrained, while the old lady became increasingly cantankerous. Perhaps it was because her health had deteriorated in recent years, always causing him trouble, and the old lady felt guilty, masking her feelings with harsh words.

Li Jin Yu never took it personally. He closed the door for her but didn’t leave, slowly leaning his back against it.

With his hands in his pockets, he tilted his head back, resting it against the door panel, staring blankly at the ceiling. For once not appearing lazy, he leaned there earnestly, seemingly recalling his years with his grandmother—the smile on his face gradually flattened as his mind went through the memories. Without realizing it, he had gone through them like a movie, fast-forwarding from beginning to end, making the contrast stark. That invincible hero of a grandmother who had traveled for over ten hours by train from Ning Sui to Beijing to protect him, commanding respect from all quarters, seemed to have aged overnight. She had been ill these past few years, though Li Jin Yu hadn’t noticed much change in her, perhaps because he saw her every day. All the signs had been etched into the passage of time, merely smoothed over by fine sand. When the wind blew, the marks were revealed, unable to withstand scrutiny.

He had been revolving around Ye Meng lately, and when he came to his senses, he realized his grandmother had already walked quite far alone. What lay ahead? Layer upon layer of mist that he couldn’t see through, and whatever was behind that mist was certainly not what he hoped for.

Li Jin Yu closed his eyes with difficulty, his back against the door, saying softly, “Grandma, I’ll be back soon. I just need to check in once.”

“Don’t rush—take a good long look, so you won’t be thinking about her all day.”

After speaking, Tou Ju Hua hummed a little tune and applied another layer of body powder. Puffs of powder scattered everywhere, leaving a layer of white dust on the bedside table, like years of accumulated dust.

The day before, in Beijing.

Liang Yun An had arranged to meet Ye Meng. Today, he had unusually gone without his glasses, wearing contacts instead, dressed in a meticulously ironed white shirt with every button fastened neatly, looking several years younger.

“Going on a blind date?” Ye Meng asked with a smile.

Liang Yun An sighed; it was true. “No choice, my family’s anxious. Even with a hospital full of lives hanging in the balance, I still had to meet the girl.”

“How was it? A good match?”

Liang Yun An’s face was flushed, clearly indicating he had a favorable impression. “Not bad. I don’t know if she’ll approve of my job though. She’s a surgeon.”

Ye Meng rarely saw him express such a lack of confidence. “Haven’t you dated before?”

“Yes, for five years. We broke up.”

Ye Meng didn’t pursue the question. Liang Yun An was startled, thinking she would at least ask why they broke up after five years. “You’re disappointing, you know.”

Ye Meng smiled and took a sip of water. “Sorry, personal habit. I don’t like hearing about breakups; it feels inauspicious.”

Liang Yun An was surprised. “I didn’t expect you to believe in feng shui.”

Ye Meng spoke reservedly: “In the antiquities business, you somewhat have to believe. We make our living from feng shui. It’s not quite faith, but there’s at least a reverent heart toward the divine.”

Liang Yun An nodded and knocked on the table. “Let’s get back to the case.”

Wang Xing Sheng had left the hotel at 3 AM on the 17th, got into that Toyota, and arrived at Jiu Men Ridge. After getting out of the car, he disappeared, and the police couldn’t find any trace of him or his secretary Zhang Li in the surveillance footage. Then at 9 AM on the 18th, someone reported finding his body at the car factory.

That was the complete timeline of the case so far. Because Wang Xing Sheng’s social connections were complex, and deeper investigations revealed too many mysteries surrounding him, they could only work from the timeline, gradually unraveling the threads.

“Are we certain he didn’t leave Jiu Men Ridge after arriving on the 17th?”

Liang Yun An wasn’t completely sure and answered honestly: “The volume of surveillance to check is too great to be certain.”

If he hadn’t left Jiu Men Ridge, what had he been doing there the entire day on the 17th? Or if he had left Jiu Men Ridge, where had he gone? Why had he eventually returned?

“There were no signs of a struggle on their bodies, which means there probably wasn’t a third person at the scene.”

Ye Meng asked again: “Is it confirmed that the car factory has no surveillance?”

Liang Yun An said: “Confirmed. We’ve checked inside and out. Only the security room at the entrance had working cameras; all others were broken.”

“Security room?”

“Yes, we checked, but found no useful information,” Liang Yun An took a sip of water, suddenly remembered something, made an “Mm” sound as he swallowed, and said, “I went back to the station yesterday and looked through your mother’s detailed case file again. Did you know there was a witness in your mother’s case?”

Ye Meng had been looking out the window. The night was falling heavily, shops lined the commercial street, and neon lights outlined the high-rises of the CBD center. When she heard Liang Yun An’s words, she abruptly turned back, her expression startled, clearly unaware of this fact.

Liang Yun An had expected this reaction and proceeded to tell her: “That stretch of road at Jiu Men Ridge, eight years ago before the highway was renovated, was just a wild mountain path with no surveillance. So it became a racing ground for rich kids, especially around two or three in the morning. When these young masters from the city had personal grudges to settle, they would go there.”

Jiu Men Ridge was the most dangerous section of winding road in the Guan Mountain district, with nineteen 180-degree sharp turns. The road was narrow with sharp bends. Back then, there were no guardrails—one side dropped to a ravine filled with strange rocks, and the other side rose like a thousand-foot cliff soaring into the clouds as if walking among clouds and mist in the sky. Even drivers with over a decade of experience would honestly sound their horns when passing this section. Apart from those rich kids who sought thrills, no one dared cause trouble on this stretch. After the incident, the rich second generation couldn’t cover it up, so the police closed the road, and only last year did they begin widening it again, though many small sharp turns still lacked surveillance.

Liang Yun An said: “That witness reported to the police station the day after your mother’s accident.”

“What did they say?”

Ye Meng didn’t know why, but her brow seemed connected to her heartbeat, pounding dramatically, her ears buzzing, momentarily unable to hear clearly.

Liang Yun An was twenty-six, with a dark complexion, appearing mature and steady, though a year younger than Li Jin Yu. He had been assigned to Guan Mountain right after graduating from the police academy. Probably unaccustomed to wearing such a meticulously buttoned shirt, he awkwardly lowered his head to undo his collar button while saying: “He said he saw two people in the car at that time, with a man in the passenger seat.”

Ye Meng frowned slightly. “Did he identify the man? Why didn’t the police tell me at the time?”

Liang Yun An finished unbuttoning and finally felt comfortable. He looked up at her. “The police wouldn’t tell you.”

Ye Meng’s brow remained furrowed, her posture gradually stiffening. “Why not?”

“Because he denied it the next day, saying he had misremembered the license plate,” Liang Yun An said.

“Where is he now? Can I contact him?”

“The case file used a pseudonym. I’ll look through the archives tonight.”

That evening, Liang Yun An didn’t call her. It wasn’t until noon the next day, when Ye Meng was about to meet the old chairman of New River, that she received the news. She had followed this man for two years. Chairman Yu Wen Qing was considered an established collector in the industry with a prestigious reputation. Last year at the autumn auction in Garde, France, he had purchased a blue and white porcelain bowl worth 200 million. Even if they couldn’t collaborate, she thought making friends with Old Yu would be worthwhile.

But clearly, Yu Wen Qing had no interest in this young girl or their small Wan Xing company. Ye Meng had just gotten into the car, which was slowly pulling out of the parking space. Her assistant, hugging various documents, sat in the passenger seat and picked up her phone. “Officer Liang.”

Ye Meng tilted her head, brushing her hair to one side, and put in her Bluetooth earpiece. “Connect it to Bluetooth for me.”

“I found something,” Liang Yun An was eating in the cafeteria, with the clanging sounds of stainless steel trays being stacked coming through the phone. “This person seems to have left Beijing, his household registration has been transferred.”

The car slowly merged into traffic. Ye Meng’s driving skills were quite average, constantly hitting the brakes. Her assistant was already trembling, both hands gripping the handles beside the car, quietly saying: “Sister, don’t you even look at my side’s rearview mirror?”

Ye Meng glanced at her. “Oh, I forgot.” She carelessly looked at the rearview mirror.

“…”

Following that, she asked Liang Yun An: “What’s his name?”

“Umm…” Liang Yun An was chewing food, absentmindedly checking the name and ID number he had written down again before saying: “Li Jin Yu.”

Ye Meng thought it might be a homophone, or perhaps she missed him so much that she misheard. She seriously doubted her hearing, immediately yanked out her earpiece, and had her assistant put the call on speaker in the car. Suppressing her nearly bursting heart, she calmly asked: “How is it written?”

But her voice was cold, her tone tightly strung, as if it might break at any moment.

Liang Yun An, unaware of her tension through the phone, continued hastily eating while explaining the characters: “The ‘Li’ with the wood radical, the ‘Jin’ with the leather radical, as in revolution. The ‘Yu’ from the island.”

Ye Meng slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side: “Liang Yun An, please send me this person’s ID number, thank you.”

The small assistant, seeing her expression, felt uneasy and quietly asked: “Are we still going this afternoon?”

Ye Meng had one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding her phone, her face cold. “Why wouldn’t we go?”

The phone dinged as Liang Yun An sent the information. Ye Meng immediately pulled up the ID photo Li Jin Yu had sent her the night before and compared them.

Li Jin Yu. 110105199310280058.

That evening, Li Jin Yu took Tou Ju Hua to Xu Mei Lan’s house.

The door was open wide, and Xu Mei Lan was in the kitchen, ordering her younger sister-in-law to cook. The sister-in-law found her annoying. “Who’s cooking, you or me? If you don’t want to eat, fine.”

Xu Mei Lan retorted, “Is that how you talk to your mother? No manners.” Turning her head, she saw Li Jin Yu pushing Tou Ju Hua at the door and greeted them warmly with a smile: “The darling is here! Have you eaten?”

“Yes,” Li Jin Yu pushed Tou Ju Hua forward. “I’m going to Beijing tomorrow—”

Xu Mei Lan interrupted with a smile, “I know, Meng Meng called. Stay a few more days; we’ll take care of Grandma.”

When Xu Mei Lan smiled, she looked very much like Ye Meng, with crescent-shaped eyes, gentle yet with a hint of teasing.

Li Jin Yu didn’t leave immediately, staying with his grandmother for a while. The old lady had been grooming herself all day at home, now dolled up like a gift. At this moment, seeing Xu Mei Lan, she felt a bit shy and remained silent, occasionally glancing at him. Li Jin Yu found it amusing and teased her, “Shy?”

“Shy my ass,” Tou Ju Hua cursed.

Xu Mei Lan heard and let out a surprised sound. Tou Ju Hua immediately backed down. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

Li Jin Yu suddenly realized that his grandmother liked Xu Mei Lan very much. The way she looked at Xu Mei Lan was somewhat like looking at her idol.

When Ye Meng called, Li Jin Yu was chatting with Xu Mei Lan. After just a few sentences, he hurriedly hung up. When he called back, Ye Meng had gone to take a shower.

Finally, as Li Jin Yu left Xu Mei Lan’s house, they connected.

Li Jin Yu had one hand in his pocket and the other holding the phone to his ear, his legs casually walking downstairs. He remarked: “Do we have a time difference? Why do we keep missing each other?”

“I’d like to know too, why do we keep missing each other?”

“What’s wrong?” Li Jin Yu stopped at the dark entrance of the building.

Ye Meng had been holding back all day and finally couldn’t help saying, “My mother’s case. I want to know why you never mentioned a single word to me about it.”

Li Jin Yu was taken aback. “What about your mother’s case?”

Ye Meng took a breath, seeming like her final exercise in patience. “My mother. Jiu Men Ridge. The suicide car. Do you remember now? You reported at the time that there was someone else in my mother’s car.”

Li Jin Yu fell silent as if a century had passed.

Ye Meng lost her patience: “Say something!”

After a while, through the receiver came the sound of a driver honking “beep-beep-beep,” followed by Li Jin Yu’s deep voice mixed with the wind and horn sounds:

“…I have nothing to say. I didn’t know the Jiu Men Ridge case involved your mother.”

Ye Meng: “Fine, I’ll assume you didn’t know. Then why did you report it initially, and later say you misremembered the license plate?”

Li Jin Yu walked along the dim streetlights back toward home, eventually stopping by the roadside.

“…I did misremember.” This is what he still told Ye Meng.

Ye Meng thought, perhaps she had been too indulgent with him. “Li Jin Yu, are you betting that I won’t have the heart to get angry with you?”

Li Jin Yu truly didn’t know the case was related to her mother. Ye Meng had never mentioned it to him. He had once indirectly asked Fang Ya’en about it, but Fang Ya’en didn’t know what had happened in Beijing either, only saying her mother had committed suicide. She hadn’t even mentioned Jiu Men Ridge.

Li Jin Yu knew very clearly what was in Ye Meng’s heart at this moment.

Her mother was still more important.

Having been married to Ye Meng for so long, he found himself addicted to the happiness of being with her. He had even selfishly and deliberately ignored certain coincidences that might have occurred to him.

He realized he wasn’t a good person. Not in the past, and not now.

“Go ahead and be angry. I can take it,” he said.