June 19, 1994, Sunday, Overcast.

When Vincent and I returned last night, we immediately sensed someone had been there. The lingering scent of cigarette smoke hung in the air. Vincent picked up several cigarette butts from the floor, staring at them blankly for a long time. I noticed my backpack under the bedding had been disturbed, but thankfully, my diary remained untouched. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to continue recording our experiences.

Vincent appeared extremely anxious, almost to the point of restlessness. I understood his concern; if city management or the police had discovered this place, they might have forced him out. I wasn’t particularly worried, though. Given Vincent’s strong survival skills, finding another temporary shelter should be easy for him. Besides, the sewer system is spacious, and there must be other places like this one. We could always relocate to another spot, such as…

Wait, why doesn’t Vincent allow me to go to that place alone?

In fact, over the past few days, he has guided me through almost every part of the sewer system. However, a certain section of the main pipeline remains off-limits. To be precise, it’s off-limits for me. He used that rare stern tone and expression to tell me never to enter that area alone. I’m not without curiosity, but I must admit, without his company, I wouldn’t dare walk in that pitch-black underground. The thought of desperately groping around in complete darkness—I don’t want to experience that again.

I wanted to comfort Vincent, but he remained distracted. Even while heating the leftover corn porridge, he mechanically stirred it, forgetting to add the sliced sausage and pickled vegetables. Only when the smell of burning food filled the air did he snap out of his daze.

We ate this meal absentmindedly. Vincent poked at his food with his steel spoon, silent. I ate carelessly too, just wanting to finish this meager meal quickly.

He had his worries, and I had mine.

After eating, I pulled back the blanket and lay down on the mattress. Vincent showed no signs of sleeping, hanging his head and fiddling with today’s “spoils.” I watched him quietly, observing the not-yet-healed wound on his head and the enormous shadow his figure cast on the wall behind him in the candlelight.

Suddenly, I felt an inexplicable sadness. I crawled out of the blanket, walked over barefoot, and hugged him tightly from behind. Vincent’s body trembled slightly. Then, he let out a soft sigh, mumbling something indistinct. It sounded like, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

He was trying to comfort me, unaware of my thoughts. But I had to steel my heart. After about ten seconds, I released my arms and slowly retreated to the blanket.

I knew he was watching me from behind. So, I turned my face towards the wall, looking at the Little Mermaid poster. Then, I closed my eyes, trying my best to fall asleep.

I needed to rest well. After daybreak would be my big day.

Seventeen pieces of physical evidence were discovered in the stormwater detention tank beneath the museum’s drainage network. After identification by the victims’ families, these were confirmed to be belongings of the three deceased. Based on this, the police determined that this detention tank was the body dump site for the “May 24 Serial Rape and Murder Case.” With assistance from the road administration department and the city planning institute, the police drained the accumulated water from the detention tank. The crime scene investigation team is now conducting a thorough examination of the site, searching for additional clues and trace evidence.

Meanwhile, in the geographic profiling of the perpetrator created by Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei, “Zone B,” where the museum is located, has become the most likely hiding area for the suspect. Combined with Professor Qiao Yunping’s psychological profile of the killer, the police plan to conduct another screening of individuals matching the characteristics in this area.

Wang Xianjiang put down the documents in his hand, leaned back in his chair, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Dawei?”

Tai Wei didn’t look up: “Hm?”

“Have you ever noticed that when you look at the same words for too long, you stop recognizing the characters?”

Tai Wei chuckled: “Master, I now have to ponder for a moment even when I see the words ‘Xiaobei Street.'”

“Damn it,” Wang Xianjiang cursed with a laugh. “I wonder if the crime scene investigation team has made any progress.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” Tai Wei shrugged. “I asked the technical team, and after being submerged in water for so long, they probably won’t be able to extract much.”

Wang Xianjiang thought for a moment: “What about Old Du’s side?”

“Master, can you please be patient?” Tai Wei laughed again. “The first batch was sent just two days ago.”

“Did you tell Old Du to start checking the people in Zone B first?”

“Don’t worry, I gave him clear instructions.”

Wang Xianjiang smacked his lips and reached for the cigarette box on the table. Just as he pulled out a cigarette, his pager beeped. He glanced at the screen, immediately tossed the cigarette back onto the table, and picked up the phone.

“Liu Shengli.”

Tai Wei also perked up, rushing around the long office table to the phone.

Wang Xianjiang rapidly punched in the numbers and, as soon as the call connected, asked abruptly: “What’s the situation?”

Liu Shengli’s drawling voice came through the receiver: “The intersection of Xiangnan Road and Hongqiao Street, Wang’s First Hand Braised Bone Restaurant.”

“We’ll be right there.”

Wang Xianjiang hung up the phone and waved at Tai Wei: “Let’s go.”

As soon as Tai Wei parked the car by the roadside, Wang Xianjiang saw Liu Shengli peeking out from behind a tree across from the restaurant, waving at him.

Wang Xianjiang got out of the car and walked quickly towards him: “Where’s the bicycle?”

Liu Shengli spat out a sunflower seed shell and jerked his chin towards the restaurant entrance: “There.”

Tai Wei walked over to the woman’s bicycle, examined it, and thumped the seat. He nodded at Wang Xianjiang: “It’s the one.”

Wang Xianjiang’s eyes lit up as he turned to Liu Shengli: “Where’s the person?”

“Don’t know. One of my boys spotted it,” Liu Shengli said, cracking sunflower seeds rapidly. “Probably inside gnawing on some bones, I guess?”

Before Wang Xianjiang could respond, Tai Wei was already in action.

“Master, should we call for backup?” Tai Wei pulled out his Type 54 pistol from his waist. “Or should we just take him down ourselves?”

Liu Shengli was startled: “Old Wang, what’s the big deal? Stealing your niece-in-law’s bike doesn’t warrant shooting the guy, does it?”

Wang Xianjiang frowned: “What the hell are you doing? Put that gun away.”

Tai Wei looked confused, pointing at the restaurant window: “But isn’t this…”

“Like hell it is!” Wang Xianjiang was already walking towards the entrance. “That bastard has money, free time, and a car. Why would he be riding around on this piece of junk?”

Tai Wei obediently tucked the gun back into its holster, scratching the back of his head: “Good point.”

Wang Xianjiang entered the restaurant, scanning the dining area. There weren’t many customers—just an elderly couple, two young men who looked like college students, and four men in work uniforms.

A waitress approached him: “Sir, how many in your party?”

Wang Xianjiang ignored her, focusing his gaze on the private rooms at the far end of the hall. Boisterous laughter was coming from one of them.

He walked straight over and lifted the curtain. The middle-aged men and women seated around the round table, drinking and toasting, all turned to look at him, their voices suddenly lowering.

“Who… who are you looking for?” asked a red-faced, chubby man who was drunk. “Did you come to the wrong room?”

Wang Xianjiang glanced at the half-eaten birthday cake on the table, then at the middle-aged woman wearing a birthday hat in the seat of honor. “Whose red Flying Pigeon bicycle is parked outside?”

The chubby man squinted: “What about it?”

Tai Wei grew impatient: “When he asks you a question, you should…”

Wang Xianjiang stopped him from reaching for his badge: “I accidentally backed into that bicycle earlier.”

“Oh no!” Another middle-aged woman jumped up. “It’s mine, it’s mine.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Wang Xianjiang gestured towards the door. “Miss, could you come out and take a look?”

The middle-aged woman cursed under her breath as she hurried out of the restaurant. Seeing her bicycle perfectly intact by the roadside, she looked surprised.

Wang Xianjiang nodded towards the bicycle: “It’s yours, right?”

“Yes, but…”

“Where did you get this bike from?”

“What do you mean, where did I get it from?” The woman’s face immediately darkened. “I bought it with my own money!”

“This bicycle is stolen property.” Wang Xianjiang pulled out his work ID. “Where did you get it?”

The woman’s expression changed, knowing she couldn’t deny it. After hesitating for a while, she reluctantly admitted, “My husband bought it at the Green Garden Second-hand Bicycle Market.”

Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei exchanged a glance—another connection to Zone B.

The middle-aged men and women who had followed to watch the commotion saw Wang Xianjiang’s work ID and quickly retreated into the doorway.

Wang Xianjiang instructed Tai Wei to load the bicycle into the Jeep’s trunk, then told the middle-aged woman, “Call your husband and tell him to come to the entrance of the Green Garden Second-hand Bicycle Market immediately. You’re coming with us in the car.”

The middle-aged woman looked frightened: “I’m not going. I didn’t steal anything.”

Liu Shengli leaned in: “Sister, just do what the police tell you to do. Don’t make trouble for yourself.”

The middle-aged woman hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly got into the back seat of the Jeep.

Liu Shengli turned around with a grin, extending his hand to Wang Xianjiang: “Old Wang, let’s settle up, shall we?”

Just as Wang Xianjiang was about to take out his wallet, Tai Wei quickly pulled two fifty-yuan notes from his pocket and handed them to Liu Shengli.

“Next time we need your help, be more efficient.”

“No problem, Brother Tai.” Liu Shengli flicked the notes, making them rustle, and sniffed them. “With this, everything works better.”

The middle-aged woman’s husband, who introduced himself as Mr. Gao, was a worker at the motorcycle factory and appeared honest and straightforward. Upon seeing Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei, he kept bowing and trying to offer them cigarettes.

Wang Xianjiang, uninterested in pleasantries, directly asked him to lead the way to the second-hand bike shop where he had purchased the bicycle. Mr. Gao naturally agreed. Holding the receipt with its blurry finance stamp, he led Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei into the second-hand bicycle market.

The Green Garden Second-hand Bicycle Market covered nearly a thousand square meters. The area was packed with various brands and models of used bicycles. Among them, there were undoubtedly stolen goods. Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei were well aware of this fact.

Relying on his memory and the shop name on the finance stamp, Mr. Gao circled the market for quite some time before finally finding the shop.

Calling it a shop was generous; it was just a prefab room of about ten square meters. A large area outside the room was occupied by bicycles. The shop owner, in his forties, was wolfing down a boxed meal. When Wang Xianjiang explained why they were there, the owner initially denied everything. Only after Mr. Gao produced the receipt did he reluctantly come out of the prefab room, circle the bicycle, and nod: “It does seem like it was sold from my shop.”

Wang Xianjiang looked at him: “Where did this bicycle come from?”

“I bought it, of course,” the shop owner’s eyes darted around. “I only deal in legitimate second-hand bikes. I don’t accept any without original invoices.”

“Let me refresh your memory then. Around May 10th, who sold this bicycle to you?” Tai Wei nodded towards the prefab room. “Go get all your records and show them to me.”

The shop owner started making excuses. First, he said the records weren’t in the shop, then he claimed he had lost them. Tai Wei lost his patience: “I don’t have time for your nonsense! This bicycle is stolen property! If you can’t explain where it came from, you’ll have to come with us!”

The shop owner was both scared and hesitant. Wang Xianjiang seized the moment: “Brother, we’re investigating a different case. Dealing with stolen goods isn’t our jurisdiction, and we don’t want to get involved. If you clear this up, we’ll leave immediately. Otherwise, you’ll have to come with us.” He paused. “You know whether your hands are clean or not. Once you’re at the station, no one will be able to help you.”

The shop owner gritted his teeth: “Brother, you promise?”

Wang Xianjiang’s expression remained neutral: “That depends on whether you tell the truth.”

“A scrap collector sold it to me,” the shop owner grimaced. “May 11th or 12th, I can’t remember exactly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” The shop owner nodded, kicking the bicycle. “Racing bikes and mountain bikes are the most popular now. This one is too old, and not in good condition. He tried several shops, but no one wanted it. Finally, I bought it for 20 yuan.”

“20?” Mr. Gao’s eyes widened. “You charged me 90!”

“90?” The middle-aged woman also became upset, grabbing her husband. “You told me you bought it for 150!”

The couple started arguing. Wang Xianjiang ignored them and continued questioning: “Do you know this scrap collector?”

The shop owner shook his head: “No.”

“What did he look like?”

“Quite sturdy, wearing a tattered military coat, with long hair and beard, all matted.” The shop owner thought for a moment. “He was carrying a large canvas bag.”

“That description is useless,” Tai Wei snorted. “Don’t all scrap collectors look like that?”

“There’s more…” The shop owner pointed to his head. “He seemed to have some issues up here. He looked dazed, couldn’t speak clearly, always sounding like he had an apple core in his mouth.”

The group left the Green Garden Second-hand Bicycle Market. Of course, they couldn’t return the red Flying Pigeon bicycle to the couple. Tai Wei informed them they could come to the city police station early the next morning to handle the paperwork, and that they should resolve any other issues with the second-hand shop owner themselves. Then, he and Wang Xianjiang got into the Jeep.

“Master, are we going to look for that scrap collector?” Tai Wei started the Jeep. “It won’t be easy.”

“We have to,” Wang Xianjiang frowned. “We’ve finally got a lead. How can we not follow it?”

“But,” Tai Wei pondered, “a homeless person doesn’t match our profile of the suspect.”

Wang Xianjiang was silent for a few seconds. “At least he can tell us where he found that bicycle.”

“Alright, how do we find him?”

“He brought the bicycle here to sell, so he should be nearby.” Wang Xianjiang took out his phone book from his bag. “Scrap collectors usually work in specific areas, each with their territory. And they have familiar scrap yards—I’ll ask our colleagues in this area.”

Half an hour later, Wang Xianjiang had gathered the addresses of several scrap yards in the area. They visited each other. However, the first three scrap yards yielded no results. By the time they reached the fourth, called “Wealth Gatherer,” Tai Wei wasn’t very hopeful.

Wang Xianjiang described the vagrant’s physical characteristics, and the scrap yard owner’s response echoed Tai Wei’s earlier statement.

“It’s not that I don’t want to help…” The scrap yard owner frowned. “But most people who come here to sell scrap look like that.”

Wang Xianjiang persisted: “This guy seems a bit slow, looks rather dazed, and speaks unclearly, probably mumbling.”

“Who in their right mind would do this job?” The scrap yard owner chuckled. “They all look a bit dim.”

Wang Xianjiang and Tai Wei exchanged helpless glances. Just as they were about to leave for the next scrap yard, the owner suddenly remembered something.

“Wait. Unclear speech, mumbling…” He blinked. “Could you be looking for that guy?”

She climbed to the top of the iron ladder, pushed open the manhole cover, and peeked out. Perhaps because it was a rest day, there weren’t many people on the street, and no one noticed the open manhole.

She climbed out and reached down. A few seconds later, he emerged too. While she dusted herself off, he replaced the manhole cover, quietly watching her.

She adjusted the backpack on her shoulder and smiled at him. “So, see you later?”

He grinned and nodded.

She waved at him and turned to leave. He stood by the manhole, silently watching her walk away. After she was out of sight, he picked up the woven bag at his feet and walked in the opposite direction. He had only taken a few steps when he heard a car horn from the roadside.

Turning the corner, she slowed her pace, clutching her backpack strap and lowering her head. Finally, unable to resist, she turned back. She wanted to see him one last time, from afar, without him noticing any real emotion.

He was still by the roadside, talking to someone in a black car. She was puzzled but didn’t have time to figure it out. So, she turned again and continued down the street.

The sky began to clear, with sunlight breaking through gaps in the large clouds. It was a quiet morning, with most people still enjoying lazy moments in bed. But she had to stay alert. This ordinary weather, this ordinary day, was an extraordinary milestone for her.

No one would pay attention to this girl with a backpack, long straight black hair, wearing a blue and white tracksuit. At most, people might glance twice at her dazzlingly white sneakers. She looked no different from any ordinary high school student. Neat, quiet, with a calm expression, and a faint scent of laundry detergent.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Although it gave her a slight illusion of returning to her normal life from a month ago, it allowed her to inconspicuously walk to the gate of No. 4 Middle School, then blend in with the boys and girls wearing the same uniform, pass through the school gate, and enter the campus. Even though she had lost her school badge on that rainy night, she didn’t need to deliberately hide. She just needed to lower her head, letting her long hair cover her cheeks, and no one could distinguish her from the noisy students around her.

After stepping onto the cement path leading to the teaching building, she left the complaining students who were upset about not being able to rest on Sunday and walked alone toward the stadium.

She knew that at this moment, students from various classes were gathering in their classrooms. Then, around 9:15, they would collectively head to the auditorium to watch the finale of this year’s English Festival—the English play “The Little Mermaid.”

Indeed, the stadium was empty. She climbed up to the stands, found a corner to sit down, and looked at the empty sandy ground, her mind drifting back to the scene from this morning.

She had woken up early, not disturbing him as he slept soundly beside her. She quietly brushed her teeth and washed her hair and face. Then, she packed all her belongings into her backpack. Wearing her school uniform, she put on the white sneakers she had kept wrapped in paper. In the dim candlelight, they emitted a faint glow, looking somewhat sacred, as if they didn’t belong in this place.

After much hesitation, she still took all the money from his tattered military coat lying next to the mattress. Counting it, there was a total of 17 yuan and 60 cents.

She carefully put the money in her uniform pocket, then looked around the “room.” Finally, her gaze locked onto that poster. A few seconds later, she pursed her lips and walked towards the circular iron door. As she stepped onto the first granite stair, she looked back and was startled to find him staring at her.

Suddenly, her mind went blank.

They silently gazed at each other. She stood on the stairs, clutching her backpack straps. He lay askew on the mattress, not blinking.

After a long while, she struggled to speak: “Vincent, I’m leaving.”

He lowered his head as if pondering the meaning of these words. Then, he threw off the blanket, crouched to the wall, rummaged through a pile of plastic bags, and took out two cold buns.

Barefoot, he trotted over and offered her the buns with a pleasing smile.

“You eat.”

Tears burst from her eyes. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, stared into his eyes, and said slowly and clearly: “Vincent, I’m leaving.”

The small light in his eyes instantly vanished. His smile faded, and he looked at the buns in his hands, at a loss.

She fought back tears and reached out to touch his face: “You must take care of yourself. I’ll come back to see you.”

He looked up at her, dazed, making a rumbling sound in his throat. Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and mumbled unclearly: “I, we…”

She was a bit surprised: “Hm?”

He pointed at himself, then at her: “Together…”

Then he pointed upwards, waving his arms wildly: “Outside…”

She widened her eyes: “You want to come with me?”

He nodded repeatedly, looking at her eagerly.

Tears flowed down her face again: “Vincent, I don’t even know where I’m going…”

“Anywhere…” He struggled to utter a few words, “Anywhere… is fine.”

She tightly closed her eyes, feeling his hand gripping her wrist more firmly. She thought, if he had a tail, it would surely be wagging non-stop right now.

She nodded: “Okay.”

He let out a joyful cry, stuffed the buns into her hand, and ran wildly towards the mattress, quickly putting on his clothes. The violent movement stirred up a breeze, nearly extinguishing the weak candle flame, which became two flickering points of light in her eyes.

She shook her head, trying to drive these images from her mind.

Now, those two cold buns were in her backpack. Although she hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, she remained excited. She was determined to maintain this state—at least until she finished that task—she wouldn’t let anything shake her resolve.

Not even this familiar playground.

Not even the once slightly stable life.

Not even Vincent.

Although the discovery in that stormwater detention tank was genuinely exciting, the over-sixty-year-old Gu Hao still felt overwhelmed by the continuous running around. He went to bed early, and when he woke up, it was already bright daylight.

Gu Hao grumbled about oversleeping while hurriedly getting up to prepare his equipment. If luck was on his side, he could bring Su Lin back today. He naturally had many questions to ask her, but the urgent matter was to find her a place to stay. There was only one bed at home, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for them to sleep together. Perhaps he could discuss with Du Qian about letting the child stay somewhere else for a few days.

Gu Hao made do with leftover bread for breakfast, then reached for the phone and dialed Jiang Yushu’s number.

“Hello?”

“Xiao Jiang, it’s Old Gu.” Gu Hao wiped bread crumbs from his mouth. “Let’s meet at Culture Square. If I leave now, I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

“Just prepare your rain boots, I’ll take care of the rest…”

“Old Gu,” Jiang Yushu suddenly interrupted, “I can’t go today.”

“Oh?” Gu Hao was puzzled. “Do you have something else to do?”

“You could say that.” Jiang Yushu sighed softly. “I think I can’t be involved in Su Lin’s matter anymore.”

“It’s alright.” Gu Hao sensed her low spirits. “We’ve practically found the child. It’s a pity you can’t share in the victory firsthand.”

He chuckled to himself, but Jiang Yushu didn’t respond, only saying quietly, “I’m very sorry.”

“I said it’s fine.” Gu Hao’s heart suddenly sank. “If I may ask, is Jiang Ting in trouble?”

“No.” Jiang Yushu hesitated. “Do you remember the man I argued with at the school gate of No. 4 Middle School?”

“Yes.”

“He’s my ex-husband. Now, he’s suing me in court for Tingting’s custody.” Jiang Yushu was silent for a few seconds. “The lawyer he hired is quite formidable, and it seems he secretly recorded our conversations. I’m afraid he might use our help in finding the child as leverage against me.”

“This is an act of righteousness, doing a good deed,” Gu Hao frowned. “What are you afraid of?”

“You don’t know, my ex-husband has no bottom line. He’ll do anything to achieve his goals. Now with a lawyer’s help…” Jiang Yushu’s mood sank further. “So, I think it’s better if I don’t get involved in anything for now. I need to stay safe and deal with this lawsuit first.”

“No problem. We can’t be careless with the child’s matter.” Gu Hao immediately agreed. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find Su Lin.”

“Alright. Old Gu, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t mention it. You’ve already helped me a lot.”

“Well, I have to go now. I need to take Tingting to her performance. Take care of yourself too.”

“Don’t worry. And don’t be too concerned, the court is a place of reason.”

“Mm. We’ll be in touch later.”

After hanging up, Gu Hao collected himself, checked his equipment for going down the manhole one last time, and headed for the door. Just as he touched the doorknob, he heard a gentle knock.

Gu Hao opened the door to find Old Su’s wife standing outside.

“What are you doing here?”

Old Su’s wife quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind her. “Brother Gu, is there any news about Linlin?”

Gu Hao hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I might have found her.”

“Really?” Old Su’s wife’s eyes lit up as she grabbed Gu Hao’s sleeve. “Where is she?”

“In a stormwater detention tank in the sewer system.”

Old Su’s wife’s face instantly turned pale, her voice trembling. “Is… is she still alive?”

“She should be. I didn’t meet her last time, so I’m planning to go look again today.”

“Can you take me with you?” Old Su’s wife shook Gu Hao’s sleeve, pleading, “I want to see her, please?”

Gu Hao nodded towards the door. “Your husband…”

“He took the kids to tutoring class, he won’t be back until the afternoon.” Old Su’s wife’s tone was urgent. “He won’t know. Please, take me with you?”

Gu Hao sighed. “I understand you want to see her. But have you considered whether she wants to see you?”

This was also a question that had been puzzling Gu Hao. If Su Lin could find a place to stay in the sewer, surely she could find a way out. But why didn’t she want to come home?

Old Su’s wife was stunned. “I…”

Then she shook her head desperately, her voice choked with tears. “I don’t care! Even if she doesn’t want to see me, I just want to see with my own eyes that she’s still alive…”

With that, the woman burst into loud sobs.

Gu Hao sighed helplessly. After a moment of contemplation, he pointed towards the door.

“Stop crying,” he said, shaking off Old Su’s wife’s hand. “Go prepare a pair of rain boots.”

The auditorium was brightly lit, but most seats were still empty. The actors were gathered at the front of the hall; some nervously reciting their lines, some idly looking around, some checking their positions on stage, and others more concerned with their makeup—like Ma Na, who was having Song Shuang hold a small makeup mirror while Zhao Lingling held the makeup box. Ma Na was applying makeup to her face, frequently losing her temper at Song Shuang for holding the mirror at the wrong angle or Zhao Lingling for being too slow.

Teacher Zhou slowly walked along the audience aisle. The executive director was gathering a few actors, earnestly explaining some points to note. He perked up, clapped his hands, and called out loudly, “Stop wandering around, go change into your costumes. Makeup team, get ready!”

After saying this, he walked past them, climbed the wooden stairs at the side of the stage, passed through the curtain, and headed straight for the rehearsal room at the back.

Yang Le was in the rehearsal room, already changed into the prince’s costume, opening the wardrobe and rummaging through rows of red dresses.

Teacher Zhou walked to another cabinet, took out a key, unlocked the iron lock on the cabinet, and looked back at the sneaky Yang Le.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Yang Le’s expression was flustered as he hastily rummaged through the items. “Teacher Zhou… you’re here early.”

Teacher Zhou took out a camera from the cabinet and turned it on. As he looked up, he saw Yang Le pull something from his pocket and slip it into the pocket of a red dress.

He frowned. “What are you up to, boy?”

“Me?” Yang Le turned around, trying his best to appear nonchalant. “Nothing at all.”

“Go get your makeup done. Hurry up.”

Yang Le nodded repeatedly and quickly ran out of the rehearsal room.

Teacher Zhou pondered for a moment, then walked to the wardrobe. He felt inside the pocket of the red dress and pulled out a folded square of paper.

He unfolded it to reveal two neatly written lines in pen:

Jiang Ting:

I’ll wait for you at the school gate at 7 PM tonight. I want to talk to you in detail about what happened last time. Yang Le.

Teacher Zhou chuckled and refolded the note. He was about to put it back when he hesitated. After fiddling with it for a few moments, he slipped it into his pocket.

At that moment, the actors began to arrive. Teacher Zhou picked up the camera and headed towards the auditorium.

After setting up the camera, adjusting it, and running a final check, Teacher Zhou returned to the rehearsal room. The actors were changing into their costumes in the men’s and women’s dressing rooms. Those who had finished formed lines, waiting for the makeup team to work on them one by one. The props team was doing a final check of the props. With nothing to do for the moment, Teacher Zhou sat quietly, watching the busy cast and crew.

Around 9 o’clock, the noise from outside the rehearsal room gradually increased. It seemed the audience was starting to enter in groups. Teacher Zhou thought for a moment, then stood up and walked towards the stage.

He stood behind the curtain, watching as a class was being seated in their designated area under their homeroom teacher’s guidance. He knew that in about ten minutes, this vast auditorium would be full. The English Festival, jointly organized by the school’s Youth League Committee and Student Union, would conclude after this English play, “The Little Mermaid.” He had thought he could relax after tonight, but now it seemed there was something more important to do.

He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then he turned and walked back to the rehearsal room.

Whatever happens, let’s get through this play they’ve been rehearsing for months, he thought. Because the real drama was yet to come.

As soon as Gu Hao opened the sealed valve on the iron door, Old Su’s wife eagerly squeezed inside, heedless of the pitch darkness. If not for Gu Hao’s quick reflexes in grabbing her arm, she would have tumbled down the granite steps.

When the flashlight illuminated the narrow space, the woman was already calling out tearfully, “Linlin, Linlin, Mama’s here. Where are you? Mama’s here…”

However, the rain storage pool was empty. Gu Hao’s heart sank. He ran to the edge of the pool, carefully sweeping the flashlight beam into every corner, but there was still no sign of Su Lin.

Old Su’s wife was bitterly disappointed. “Brother Gu, where’s Linlin?”

“I don’t know,” Gu Hao furrowed his brow. “Could she have gone out to find food?”

The woman looked around the “room” in bewilderment, her gaze falling on the makeshift alcohol stove, a chipped enamel basin, and empty water bottles. Finally, she looked at the old mattress, covered her mouth, and began to sob.

“She lived in a place like this… without even a proper bed…”

Old Su’s wife’s crying irritated Gu Hao. What troubled him more was that Su Lin’s school uniform and backpack—all evidence of her having lived here—had vanished.

It was as if she had never been here at all.

Gu Hao even doubted whether everything he had seen yesterday was just an illusion. But surely he and Jiang Yushu couldn’t have had the same hallucination?

If Su Lin had merely gone out to find food, she wouldn’t have taken all her personal belongings. In other words, it seemed she had no intention of returning.

Had she changed her living place again? Or had she fled in a hurry after realizing strangers had been here yesterday?

There was another possibility, but it seemed impossible no matter how he thought about it. Yet, besides that, there seemed to be no other hope.

“Sister-in-law, let’s go home first,” Gu Hao stood up and walked towards the circular iron door. “Maybe a miracle will happen.”

Deep blue curtains with bright white wave-like patterns adorned the stage. In the sea king’s palace lived a group of free-spirited mermaids. Among them, the youngest was the most beautiful and the sea king’s favorite.

The sea king allowed them to choose treasures from sunken ships to decorate their gardens. The little mermaid chose a marble statue, a bust of a handsome young man.

The little mermaid was fifteen now, and she was allowed to swim to the surface with her sisters to see the outside world—the place she longed for, with clouds, mountains, and vineyards.

On the surface, she saw a large ship with three masts, a lively ball on board, and a prince who looked exactly like the marble statue.

Fireworks filled the sky. It was as if the stars had fallen into the sea. However, the little mermaid’s eyes remained fixed on the young prince, unable to look away.

Suddenly, huge waves rose on the sea. The ship rocked violently in the waves until it was torn apart. The prince fell from the deck into the sea. The sailors, desperate to escape, did not attempt to save the struggling prince.

The little mermaid swam desperately towards the prince, supporting him onto a piece of wood. She called to him, embracing him. How she wished they could drift like this in the waves, to anywhere at all…

Finally, the waves carried them to shore. Someone discovered the unconscious prince. The little mermaid had to return to the water, watching as another princess rescued the prince.

The little mermaid gazed at his retreating figure for a long time. When you wake up, will you remember me?

For many nights and mornings after, the little mermaid would swim to the surface, waiting desperately on that shore. However, the prince never appeared again. Unable to bear it any longer, she confided in her sisters. They advised her to ask their wise grandmother.

The grandmother warned the little mermaid that they could live for three hundred years, but humans’ lives were much shorter. Therefore, the little mermaid must give up this unrealistic fantasy.

But the little mermaid was willing to become human, even if it meant giving up her three-hundred-year lifespan. She sought help from the sea witch. The witch agreed to help her. Her beautiful fishtail could be transformed into long legs, at the cost of pain as if cut by knives and the permanent loss of her beautiful voice. Moreover, if the little mermaid failed to win the prince’s love, she would turn into sea foam.

The little mermaid said, “I’m not afraid.”

She drank the potion and immediately lost consciousness. When she woke up, the prince was standing before her.

The prince asked, “Who are you? How did you get here?”

But the little mermaid couldn’t speak.

The prince said, “Oh, poor mute orphan. I don’t know where you came from, but I’ll take care of you. I’m hosting a ball tonight. You should come too. I’ll give you beautiful clothes.”

The third act ended. Except for Ma Na’s awkward pronunciation that had once caused the audience to laugh, the English play “The Little Mermaid” was going smoothly.

The fourth act begins with the little mermaid donning a pristine white dress, enduring pain as if knives were cutting her body, and gracefully dancing with the prince.

Ma Na was agitated. The audience’s jeers earlier had embarrassed and angered her. She demanded that the makeup team touch up her makeup, then complained that the cosmetics were of poor quality and insisted that Song Shuang do it instead. After Song Shuang had barely patted her face with the powder puff a few times, Ma Na fussed about needing to use the restroom.

Teacher Zhou lost patience. “Why do you have so many issues? Hurry back and change your costume!”

Ma Na glared at him, pushed Song Shuang away, and ran towards the backstage restroom.

In truth, she had no choice. Due to nervousness, she had been drinking water since the start of makeup. Now her lower abdomen was uncomfortably full. Although Teacher Zhou had once joked that the best way to portray the little mermaid’s pain while dancing was to hold in one’s urine, she wasn’t willing to subject herself to that discomfort.

Entering the stall, she latched the door, squatted down, and relieved herself thoroughly. Then she cleaned herself up, adjusted the green fish-tail skirt with golden scale patterns, unlatched the door, and pulled the handle inward…

The wooden door didn’t budge.

Ma Na was confused and pulled the handle again with more force. The wooden door and partition shook, but the door still wouldn’t open. She panicked and peered through the crack—a thick wooden stick was blocking the door from the outside.

The music group had already started playing the waltz. On the other side of the stage, the prince had already walked onto the stage, surrounded by maids and guards.

However, the little mermaid, who should have been approaching from this side of the stage, was nowhere to be seen.

Teacher Zhou grew anxious. He turned and shouted at Zhao Lingling, “Go check the restroom! Did Ma Na fall into the toilet or something?”

Zhao Lingling responded nervously and ran towards the restroom. Teacher Zhou then grabbed a random actor: “You, go check the dressing room!”

The boy hesitated, then walked towards the dressing room. He had barely knocked on the door when it suddenly burst open.

A girl in a white dress rushed out with her head lowered.

Teacher Zhou shook his head helplessly and waved his hand: “You finally came out, hurry up…”

Then he realized something was off—this girl was much thinner than Ma Na, and her hair was long and black.

While he was still confused, the girl had already brushed past him and rushed towards the stage.

Amidst the melodious music, Yang Le and the other actors were standing awkwardly on stage. The whispers from the audience were growing louder. When the puzzled spectators saw a girl in a long dress appear from stage left, the auditorium fell silent again.

Yang Le also secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He extended his hand towards the little mermaid, ready to recite his lines. However, before he could speak, he froze in place.

In the strong spotlight from above, everything on stage appeared magnificent. In a dazzling golden halo, walking gracefully towards him in a brilliant white dress and shoes was Su Lin, who had been missing for days.

Jiang Ting behind him let out a small gasp.

Yang Le became dazed, unsure whether he was on stage or in a long dream he didn’t want to wake from. He just stood there, watching Su Lin walk to center stage and extend a hand toward him.

At that moment, the waltz seemed particularly enchanting. He smiled, feeling that in such a melodious tune and such a dreamlike atmosphere, he should do something.

He stepped forward and also reached out his hand.

Just as their fingertips were about to touch, a furious shout came from stage left: “You bitch! Give me back my dress!”

Ma Na rushed out from behind the curtain, her hair disheveled and her face contorted with rage. Immediately, her arm was grabbed by Teacher Zhou, who forcibly dragged her back.

The audience erupted into chaos. This unexpected twist in the familiar play caught everyone off guard. Each face wore an expression of either confusion or excitement as they questioned and speculated among themselves. Especially in the area where Class 4 of Year 2 was seated, some had already recognized Su Lin and the commotion was incessant.

The enraged Ma Na struggled desperately in Teacher Zhou’s grasp, cursing loudly while trying to rush onto the stage again.

Su Lin turned her head, glanced at the seemingly deranged Ma Na, then calmly turned back. She gave Yang Le a deep look. Then, she walked to the edge of the stage, lifted her skirt, and leaped off.

Ma Na finally broke free and lunged towards Su Lin, but she stepped on her green fishtail skirt and fell heavily forward.

The auditorium was in complete disarray. Su Lin, with a mysterious smile on her face, ran along the aisle towards the exit. Teacher Zhou also rushed to the edge of the stage. This sudden turn of events had left his mind blank. All he knew was that the play they had rehearsed for months was now completely ruined. He stared with bulging eyes, his features distorted, pointing at the retreating Su Lin and shouting, “Catch her!”

Principal Dong, sitting in the front row, also stood up, waving his arms haphazardly: “Stop her, quick, stop her, this is outrageous…”

Almost simultaneously, several boys appeared at the door, blocking Su Lin’s path. Su Lin gritted her teeth, turned, and ran towards the side door. However, more and more people were crowding in like a tide, forcing her to retreat, panting as she faced the students with their frightened and confused expressions.

She began to panic. She saw Ma Na had jumped off the stage and was now pushing through the crowded audience like an enraged lioness, lunging towards her.

Su Lin backed away, looking at the approaching crowd and then at the boys at the door ready to grab this troublemaker.

Was she about to be humiliated again? Was she going to be publicly trampled by Ma Na again?

Suddenly, a girl in a red dress ran out from the crowd, heading straight for Su Lin. She instinctively wanted to resist. However, the girl grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door.

The boys guarding the door were suddenly at a loss, unsure what to do as the two girls charged towards them.

The girl in the red dress let out a shrill cry: “Get out of the way!”

Then she shoved aside one of the boys blocking their path and pulled Su Lin out of the auditorium.

The corridor was empty, and the two girls ran swiftly. Their rapid breathing and footsteps echoed off the walls adorned with photographs. One in red, one in white. Their black hair flew behind them. The two seemed like petals and stamens caught in a whirlwind, speeding towards the end of the corridor.

Behind them, the pursuers were jammed at the door, with only a few boys breaking through. They didn’t know why they were chasing the girl, but the principal’s order had turned this unprecedented chase into an exciting game—they shouted as they gave chase.

Soon, the girl in the red dress pulled Su Lin to the door connecting to the auditorium passageway. They passed through the door. The girl in red let go of Su Lin’s hand and gave her a push from behind.

Su Lin ran forward a few steps, suddenly realizing the girl in red hadn’t followed. As she ran, she looked back to see the girl in red standing at the door, her hands behind her back, using her body to hold the closed door.

She looked familiar.

Several excited faces had already appeared in the glass window of the door. They were pushing hard. Sweat streamed down the face of the girl in the red dress, her chest heaving rapidly. But she held the door with all her might, allowing her body to be pushed back and forth.

Her eyes remained fixed on Su Lin, who was running while looking back. Suddenly, she called out.

“Run! Run quickly!”

Su Lin watched her body trembling from the impacts, her legs straining to hold her ground…

“Run! Don’t come back!”

Su Lin hesitated no longer. She turned, lifted the skirt of her white dress with both hands and ran swiftly along the passageway.

Through the corridor’s windows, the now completely clear sky was visible. That boundless blue, like a vast ocean, seemed to be waiting for this running girl to plunge into its depths.