A smile curved up at the corners of Bai Shuixiao’s lips.

She released Kuang Meiying’s hair, and the knife blade pressing against her throat loosened slightly. She instructed Meng Jinsong: “Prepare a car for me.”

While everyone’s attention was focused on Bai Shuixiao, Jiang Lian leaned toward Meng Qianzi’s ear.

Meng Qianzi felt a warm breath against her ear, inwardly repulsed. She instinctively turned her head to avoid it, but Jiang Lian pressed his blade against her, forcing her to stay still. Then, using her long hair as cover, he whispered threadlike: “Miss Meng, try to understand, she’s insane and will kill people. I had no choice but to buy us some time.”

Meng Qianzi gave an extremely soft scoff.

Last time he confronted her, it was “forced by circumstances,” and this time it was “having no choice.” Heaven must be bored, singling him out for duress.

“Look… why not comply for now? I’ll find an opportunity to rescue Meiying, and then we can join forces against her, which would be much easier.”

Meng Qianzi didn’t even bother with a cold laugh. Who was this “we” he spoke of? This Jiang Lian, appearing and disappearing like a ghost, his words went in one ear and out the other. However, she did agree on one point: Bai Shuixiao indeed possessed a kind of obsessive madness. Such a person, even if captured, wouldn’t reveal anything. She would only smile sinisterly without saying a word, driving you to frustration.

So rather than capturing her, it was better to feign compliance, follow her lead, and see what she was planning…

Just then, Meng Jinsong coldly replied: “I eat from the mountain ghost’s bowl and don’t take orders from outsiders. Qianzi is right here. You don’t have the qualifications to instruct me.”

Bai Shuixiao’s expression instantly turned extremely ugly.

Jiang Lian seized this interval, speaking concisely: “Miss Meng, remaining deadlocked like this isn’t a solution. I won’t kill you. You can order an attack, but if you do, Meiying won’t survive.”

“Liu Sheng is dead, and Bai Shuixiao knows there’s no good outcome waiting if she falls into your hands. She’d rather die together with you than be captured alive, and she certainly won’t talk. Don’t you want to know why she’s targeting you and whether there’s someone else behind her? If we stay deadlocked here, you’ll never know.”

The corridor was extremely quiet, with only the sound of breathing. Jiang Lian felt he’d said everything possible; saying more would be futile.

It seemed he’d have to prepare for the worst.

He looked toward Kuang Meiying: snatching her from Bai Shuixiao would be too difficult. No matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t outpace a knife at the throat—unless Meiying desperately cooperated to dodge that knife, or if the cut landed anywhere but her throat…

Kuang Meiying seemed to understand his gaze, and her hand, hanging at her side, began to slowly move upward.

At that moment, Meng Qianzi spoke.

She said, “Since Miss Bai wants to leave, let’s prepare a car.”

With Meng Qianzi giving the order, things became much easier. However, Meng Jinsong remained cautious. After inquiring around, he had Liu Guanguo bring over the inn’s small van used for transporting guests—this vehicle couldn’t move fast and wouldn’t be difficult to chase.

Bai Shuixiao wasn’t concerned about the vehicle type. The journey from upstairs to the entrance was most critical, as mountain ghosts surrounded them, while she only had Kuang Meiying as a hostage. Every step of the retreat, every corner turned, could bring sudden changes. Fortunately, despite the tensions, the entire process went smoothly.

She didn’t know that Meng Jinsong had understood Meng Qianzi’s intentions through subtle eye signals and had quietly halted all rescue attempts. She thought it was cave spirits protecting her and silently recited several “jiakoumo (thank you)” phrases.

Upon reaching the vehicle, Bai Shuixiao ordered Wei Biao to take the driver’s seat and had Jiang Lian escort Meng Qianzi inside first. Meng Qianzi was quite cooperative, requiring no pushing or pulling. However, after sitting down, she asked Jiang Lian: “When did your two parties start colluding? Nice acting.”

Jiang Lian was at a loss for words, only offering a bitter smile.

Heaven knows, there was no collusion. Collusion requires one side to initiate and the other to respond, but neither he nor Wei Biao had any chance to speak with Bai Shuixiao—

After hearing the pounding on the door and Kuang Meiying’s screams, he and Wei Biao sat up almost simultaneously and rushed toward the door. In the confusion, Wei Biao, desperate to save Kuang Meiying, and with his large frame, charged out recklessly with considerable momentum, actually knocking him down.

He fell sitting against the wall, with a sore backside and head. Combined with being suddenly awakened from sleep, he felt dizzy and disoriented. Wei Biao yanked open the door, allowing dim light and indistinct voices to enter from outside. He looked toward the doorway and found the backlit silhouette strange and bulky.

By the time he realized it was two people, voices were already thundering throughout the building. Bai Shuixiao, restraining Kuang Meiying, retreated into the corridor and said just one sentence.

“Help me kidnap Meng Qianzi, otherwise…”

She didn’t finish the sentence, nor was it necessary. The knife speckled with bloodstains was more chilling than any threatening words.

So there was no collusion. Bai Shuixiao had given them an open-ended assignment, and he and Wei Biao had merely “actively” exercised their initiative.

But this was difficult to explain to Meng Qianzi. The small boat of friendship was already challenging to build, and now it was leaking before even setting sail. Jiang Lian spoke ambiguously: “It was forced… very improvised.”

Meng Qianzi said, “For something so improvised, your coordination is excellent. Have you considered forming a long-term partnership?”

As they spoke, Bai Shuixiao had already squeezed into the passenger seat with Kuang Meiying and snapped at Wei Biao: “Drive.”

The small van spewed exhaust as it sped away, leaving all the mountain dwellers gathering around Meng Jinsong, awaiting his instructions.

Meng Jinsong asked Liu Guanguo: “The car has a tracker, right?”

This was standard equipment for mountain ghost vehicles.

Liu Guanguo nodded: “Yes.”

The small van raced out of town.

Two people crowded the passenger seat, already cramped. To prevent any small movements from the others, Bai Shuixiao had to turn sideways to keep both the back seat and driver’s seat in view. Yet she was familiar with the roads, as if she had eyes in the back of her head. At each intersection, she’d briefly say “Turn left” or “Go straight,” without hesitation, keeping the vehicle moving relentlessly.

Soon they left the main road and headed up a mountain path.

The mountain road wasn’t nearly as smooth, bumpy, or narrow. When they reached the winding mountain road, one side hugged the mountain while the other side was almost completely exposed. In the middle of the night, with nerves highly strung, Wei Biao’s hands gripping the steering wheel were covered in sweat. Bai Shuixiao warned him: “Don’t try anything fancy, like a sudden turn—no matter how fast you are, you can’t outpace my knife. I have no interest in this little artist girl, and you don’t need to accompany her in death.”

Wei Biao had a belly full of curses he couldn’t voice. On such a mountain road, who would attempt a sharp turn? He wasn’t tired of living.

Only Meng Qianzi’s mind stirred—this woman was indeed targeting her.

She couldn’t help returning to the previous topic: “You fall into your cave, I guard my mountain. Our waters don’t mix, animal paths don’t cross bird paths. Just give me a straight answer—why all this drama?”

Bai Shuixiao switched hands, holding the knife, the blade still not leaving Kuang Meiying’s throat, while her right hand reached directly to her hair bun.

Jiang Lian followed her gaze.

Bai Shuixiao was probably Miao, wearing a Miao woman’s bun. When most people think of this, they imagine a head full of heavy, shiny silver ornaments, but those are only worn for major festivals and gatherings. Miao women don’t dress elaborately in daily life, as it would be inconvenient for work.

Ordinary Miao girls pull their long hair up and tie it into a bun on top of their heads. This bun is large, so sometimes to prevent it from coming undone, they wrap it with a black cloth, then insert a flower in front to represent the sun and a comb in the back to represent the moon. Those who love beauty might add some bright decorations to the bun, whatever looks good.

Bai Shuixiao slipped her fingers behind the inserted flower, inside the wrapped cloth, and took out a small, inch-long, cylindrical twig, holding it between her fingers. She glanced sideways at Jiang Lian and asked: “Do you have fire?”

Could it be a cigarette?

Jiang Lian had once heard Master Gan mention that in Yunnan, there was a type of wood that could be smoked like cigarettes—locals would cut it into thin, long strips like cigarettes, light them, and hold them in their mouths. This satisfied the craving for smoking without harmful components like nicotine. He hadn’t expected Xiangxi to have this too. Bai Shuixiao was quite relaxed, thinking about smoking at this moment, and her way of hiding cigarettes was somewhat… sensual.

He shook his head: “I don’t smoke.”

Bai Shuixiao held up the cylindrical twig for Meng Qianzi to see: “This is what I burned, lit, and threw into the corridor. After a while, your people collapsed. Unfortunately, I had too little, and the space was too large, greatly reducing its effectiveness.”

Meng Qianzi smiled without humor: “The car’s space is small, sufficient for your purposes.”

Bai Shuixiao also smiled: “We’re driving now, and besides, there’s no fire.”

At this point, she glanced out the window and said, “Stop the car.”

Wei Biao slammed on the brakes.

As the car’s sound ceased, the surroundings became frighteningly quiet. The mountains above and cliffs below were like great masses of unblurred black ink, while the winding mountain road was made starkly visible by the pale moonlight.

Jiang Lian looked out the window: the stopping position was very peculiar, exactly at a curve in the winding mountain road—a dangerous parking spot. Mountain infrastructure hadn’t kept up; there were no guardrails at the cliff edge, only one or two symbolic wooden stakes. Stopping here, if cars came from either direction, a collision would be inevitable. And if one fell off, from such a high cliff, death would be the only outcome.

Bai Shuixiao bit the cylindrical twig between her teeth, like holding half a cigarette. With one hand, she grabbed Kuang Meiying’s chin and lifted it, pressing the knife against her protruding throat. Poor Kuang Meiying could only emit muffled, broken sounds, unable to speak.

Wei Biao was both anxious and angry: “What are you doing?”

Bai Shuixiao spoke with the twig between her teeth, her pronunciation somewhat unclear: “Nothing much, just preventing you from causing trouble.”

She smiled at Meng Qianzi: “I’m also doing this for someone else. We arranged to hand over the person here. I don’t want any problems at the last moment.”

Indeed, there was someone behind this.

Before meeting the real mastermind, Meng Qianzi didn’t want to create complications. She smiled and sat even more comfortably: “What kind of character is the money man? Can you give me a hint? When we meet, I’d like to be prepared.”

“Money man” also referred to the mastermind. Over the past hundred years or so, paper money has replaced gold and silver, no longer measured in taels. Banknotes were counted in “zhang” (sheets), so the underworld affectionately called them “zhang’er” (little sheets). Meng Qianzi used this slang both because it came naturally and because she was curious about Bai Shuixiao’s background, wanting to probe her knowledge.

Bai Shuixiao didn’t seem to know about “zhang’er” or “pian’er” (slang for money), but this didn’t impede understanding. She stared at Meng Qianzi for a long time, as if weighing the feasibility of this, and finally nodded quite readily: “Alright.”

As she spoke, she bent down toward Meng Qianzi, who naturally sat up straight and lifted her face.

At this moment, Jiang Lian noticed a subtle fluctuation in Bai Shuixiao’s gaze.

He sensed something was wrong, but before this thought could clarify, it was already too late: Bai Shuixiao pressed her lips together, and immediately afterward, a cloud of white powder spurted from the cylindrical twig in her mouth.

Jiang Lian knew this was bad and immediately held his breath. The powder wasn’t directed at him, but sitting so close, he was still affected by a small amount. He felt dizzy and disoriented, though he was relatively better off. Meng Qianzi, however, got a faceful of the powder. Forget holding her breath—she couldn’t even close her eyes in time. Jiang Lian heard her coughing continuously.

What happened to her next, Jiang Lian couldn’t attend to—the car door was violently kicked open, and Bai Shuixiao dragged Kuang Meiying out of the car, heading directly toward the cliff edge.

Jiang Lian’s back went cold. He quickly pursued, jumping out of the car. Wei Biao also hurriedly circled from the other side, but Bai Shuixiao stood too close to the cliff edge. Neither dared to make a rash move. Kuang Meiying was so frightened she couldn’t even make a sound, her body trembling continuously.

Bai Shuixiao smiled at the two, half her body seemingly immersed in the darkness below the cliff: “Let’s see if you’re fast enough.”

Before her words ended, her smile vanished. With considerable arm strength, she yanked Kuang Meiying’s entire body up horizontally and forcefully threw her toward the cliff.

Jiang Lian felt a thunderous boom in the depths of his skull. Damn it, this woman was insane!

The situation was critical, allowing no moment’s hesitation. Almost simultaneously as Kuang Meiying’s body flew out, Jiang Lian had taken two bounds to reach the cliff edge. His foot pushed heavily off the ground, propelling him toward where Kuang Meiying was falling, shouting: “Grab me!”

It was fortunate that Kuang Meiying was slender, and her nightgown and coat caught the wind. Especially the coat, which, after all the commotion, was already half off. As she was thrown and fell, it separated from her body, billowing in the wind. Although Jiang Lian couldn’t overtake her, he managed to wrap his arm around Kuang Meiying’s waist. Midair, with a flip, he saw Wei Biao let out a great roar, both hands embracing the wooden stake, his entire body swinging out over the cliff. He was using his body as a rope for Jiang Lian to grab.

Jiang Lian judged the position of his feet and instinctively felt he couldn’t reach them. His heart sank suddenly, but then he spotted that coat. Without thinking, he grabbed it and flung it around Wei Biao’s ankle. The coat wrapped around Wei Biao’s ankle but soon slipped off—it wasn’t a proper knot. However, Jiang Lian used the pulling force from this wrapping to surge upward, extending his arm long, finally firmly grasping Wei Biao’s ankle.

Three people, one hanging from another like a string of gourds, dangled precariously from the cliff.

This series of catching, wrapping, and grabbing, though seemingly complex, happened in a flash, each opportunity fleeting: if he hadn’t caught Kuang Meiying, or if Wei Biao hadn’t been so tall, or if that coat hadn’t been there, the consequences would have been unimaginable.

Only now did Jiang Lian feel the fear, sweat pouring down his back like rain, chilled by the cliff wind, making him feel stiff. Neither the arm holding Kuang Meiying nor the hand gripping Wei Biao’s ankle could move anymore. Kuang Meiying was silent, her head hanging limply—she had fainted again from fright.

From the cliff above came the sound of the van starting up.

This sound instantly brought Jiang Lian back to reality: Bai Shuixiao hadn’t lied. She only wanted Meng Qianzi. This cliff episode was merely her clever way of discarding the burdensome extras—whether they lived or died didn’t matter to her.

Jiang Lian looked up, wanting to urge Wei Biao to pull them up quickly.

He didn’t need to urge him. Wei Biao, concerned for Kuang Meiying’s safety, wished he had several more arms to pull with. He used the wooden stake for leverage, forcefully pulling his upper body onto the cliff face, then clawed at the ground, moving inward inch by inch. His bull-like strength was truly remarkable—even with two people hanging from his foot, he wasn’t delayed. Once most of his body was secure, he immediately turned to sit firmly, like a banker sitting down, and with a muffled grunt of effort, pulled both Jiang Lian and Kuang Meiying up.

As soon as Jiang Lian touched ground, he immediately set Kuang Meiying down and stood up, looking in all directions. After searching several times, he finally spotted the small van’s headlights, like faint fireflies, appearing and disappearing among the dense trees below.

He only said, “Look after Meiying,” before rushing off at full speed.

Wei Biao, who was examining Kuang Meiying’s injuries, heard this and jumped up in anger: “Our people are in this state, and you’re still concerned about others!”

By the time he looked up, Jiang Lian was already like wind and lightning, disappearing after a few bounds.

(End of Volume Two)