Before dawn, Jiang Lian went to check on Bai Shuixiao’s movements, then returned to call Meng Qianzi to set out.

Following someone during the day, compared to night, had both advantages and disadvantages. The advantage was clear visibility; the disadvantage was also clear visibility—while it was convenient for you to follow her, it was also easy for her to discover you. Therefore, they had to be even more cautious and maintain a greater distance.

Meng Qianzi solved her breakfast problem along the way. After a night’s rest, her feet were no longer troubled, though her strength still hadn’t fully returned, recovering only sixty to seventy percent. At the same time, as night gave way to day, the goodwill she had developed toward Jiang Lian—born of darkness and amplified by listening to his story—had also receded somewhat. The night had hidden Jiang Lian’s features, making it easy to be emotional and sensitive, but the bright daylight made his antagonistic actions against her visible once more.

Each matter should be treated separately. The mirage pearl could still be lent, but her cold attitude would not change. Well, to be swayed by a mere story, she was a bit disappointed in herself. If word of this got out, anyone seeking her help would tell her sad stories. How could she conduct business properly?

Jiang Lian naturally noticed the subtle change in Meng Qianzi’s attitude, but he didn’t mind. The little boat of friendship had finally started rowing, and if the passenger was a bit cold, so be it. After last night, things were about eighty or ninety percent certain. He had gotten what he wanted and was content.

Except…

He felt that Meng Qianzi’s suggestion to “follow secretly first, then find a way to contact Meng Jinsong” wasn’t very feasible. They were heading deeper into the mountains, with fewer and fewer people. Contacting someone outside would be extremely difficult.

The mountain paths were hard to traverse, especially in these rarely visited deep mountains. Half a day’s journey, despite exhausting efforts, only took them over one or two peaks, and they became increasingly lost, having no idea where they were.

Meng Qianzi was equally confused. She wasn’t familiar with Western Hunan. The older generation of Mountain Ghosts could navigate by mountain shapes and formations, but in recent decades, people had grown accustomed to relying on various electronic positioning devices. Without such equipment, they were essentially blind.

Near noon, Bai Shuixiao stopped to rest for the third time, and Jiang Lian and Meng Qianzi also stopped accordingly.

Bai Shuixiao seemed very vigilant. Each time she rested, she never sat still in one place but walked around, looking in all directions, sometimes standing, crouching. Several times, while crouching on the ground, she would suddenly dart out, as if trying to catch something.

From their distance, they couldn’t see clearly. Jiang Lian became alert. From Meng Qianzi, he had learned something about Bai Shuixiao’s methods: this woman mingled with Tian Ya Po and might also command poisonous insects or worms. If it came to a confrontation, he would need to be especially careful. After all, the creatures in these mountains might respect Meng Qianzi, but they wouldn’t recognize his face.

…

In the afternoon, the weather in the mountains changed.

As it darkened overhead, the forest grew even darker. Meng Qianzi was impatient by nature. Whether “undercover” or trailing, she preferred to see results within half a day. Now, having followed from night to day with no progress—just walking and more walking—she inevitably became restless.

Seeing this, Jiang Lian tried to comfort her: “This trip shouldn’t be wasted. As long as we stick with her, following the thread to its source, the person behind her won’t escape. Also, your chain is very likely on her person.”

This latter part was truly encouraging. Meng Qianzi’s heart stirred: “On her person… in her hair bun?”

Jiang Lian nodded: “The day I rescued her, I helped bandage her and checked her belongings. There was no chain—she has a habit of hiding things in her hair bun. The chain isn’t large, and if she took it, it’s probably hidden there. So we need a backup plan. If our tracking fails and we’re discovered, we’ll immediately confront her and try to grab what we can. We can salvage something rather than come back empty-handed.”

That made sense. If the golden bell returned, much of the matter would be resolved. Just as Meng Qianzi was about to speak, she felt something catch slightly at her ankle.

It was like an extremely fine thread suddenly snapping.

Jiang Lian had the same sensation. His expression changed as he shouted softly, “Be careful!”

Meng Qianzi reacted quickly, immediately rolling to the ground. Jiang Lian also rolled away nearby. As soon as his shoulder and back touched the ground, they heard a fluttering sound, like birds beating their wings, followed by the sound of bells, jingling chaotically.

The mountains were quiet, so when this sound arose, it seemed particularly jarring. Given the terrain, there was an echo, turning and overlapping several times, endlessly ringing like a death knell.

Jiang Lian thought they had triggered some deadly chain mechanism. His scalp tingled. After lying still on the ground for a few seconds, he realized that apart from the bell sounds, nothing else unusual had happened.

He raised his head. Not far away, Meng Qianzi also sensed something strange. They exchanged a glance and stood up one after another.

Indeed, there was no other activity, only the bells swinging continuously in the trees to the east and west, gradually fading.

Jiang Lian first went to inspect where the trip wire had been. There was no broken line there, no trace to examine, but he was certain a fine thread had been stretched across the path earlier. In these deep mountains, at this time of year, fallen leaves and broken branches had accumulated thickly. Under the cover of foliage, a thin line set beneath would be hard to spot even if lying on the ground, let alone while walking.

He roughly understood why Bai Shuixiao had walked back and forth several times during her previous rest stops: she was setting traps, and more than one. The previous times, he and Meng Qianzi had been lucky, stepping over without triggering them.

Meanwhile, Meng Qianzi walked to the eastern tree, looking up toward the height, as if discovering something. She beckoned to him.

Jiang Lian also came to look.

On the not-too-high branches, about a dozen bell strikers hung at various heights. They weren’t suspended by strings but by thin iron chains. Both the chains and the strikers were heavily rusted, indicating their age.

Meng Qianzi looked around and picked up a fine bird feather from a nearby bush: “Bai Shuixiao was probably catching birds earlier.”

Jiang Lian suddenly understood.

Got it. Bai Shuixiao had stretched a thin line across the path, with birds tied to both ends. She had used some method to keep the birds quiet and still, not struggling. Once someone passed by and accidentally broke the line, the binding on the birds would loosen, and they would inevitably fly up The bell array was directly above, and birds flying upward would disturb the strikers, naturally causing the bells to ring.

And once the bells rang, it was a warning.

Things weren’t going well. Jiang Lian cautiously looked around and said softly to Meng Qianzi, “Let’s hide first. If she comes back to check after hearing the noise, we’ll make our move.”

Meng Qianzi didn’t respond. She frowned, seeming to be thinking about something.

Bai Shuixiao must have heard the noise, but fortunately, they had maintained a significant distance from her. Even if she turned back, it would take some time—Jiang Lian grabbed Meng Qianzi and quickly took cover behind a nearby tree.

Suddenly, he heard Meng Qianzi murmur: “This is the Small Border Wall.”

Jiang Lian was startled: “The Miao Border Wall?”

He had only heard of the Miao Border Wall, also known as the legendary Southern Great Wall.

Meng Qianzi shook her head: “No, it’s the Small Border Wall. The Miao people, fearing military incursions, carefully set up various traps and mechanisms distributed in bands. It’s not a border wall, but functions like one, hence the name Small Border Wall—this is a bird bell array, used to warn against military sneak attacks. The positions are staggered high and low; when the wind blows, they don’t touch each other and don’t make noise unless birds fly up from below… Bai Shuixiao utilized the existing bell array, making use of what was available to set up a temporary trap.”

She instructed Jiang Lian: “Keep an eye on the surroundings first. I need to recall what I’ve seen—I’ve seen maps of Western Hunan before… I should be able to remember something.”

She closed her eyes.

Though she didn’t possess Jiang Lian’s “ghost eye” technique, her ability to recognize and memorize maps far exceeded the average person’s. On the night Liu Sheng was killed, she had had people hang maps of Western Hunan in the room. Holding a map-reading fire-eye, she had carefully examined the Small Border Wall. If she could recall the position of the bird bell array and the surrounding mountain shapes and formations, she could deduce their location and roughly grasp their direction, avoiding getting completely lost in these mountains.

Jiang Lian didn’t disturb her, continuing to watch their surroundings. The longer he waited, the more uneasy he became. Logically, Bai Shuixiao should have come back to check, because what triggered the bell array by breaking the thin line might not have been a person—it could have been passing birds or animals. Her delayed appearance suggested she might have already detected something. Tracking could easily reverse roles: one moment you’re the tracker, the next you become the tracked…

Just as he was thinking this, he saw orange-red fireworks rise in the distance, high in the sky.

To call them fireworks wasn’t quite accurate. They looked more like colored smoke blooming in petal-like patterns, standing out brilliantly against the dim sky.

This scene wasn’t unfamiliar to Jiang Lian. When tracking Bai Shuixiao last night, she had released similar fireworks, and soon, someone had come with a tractor to assist her. Bai Shuixiao hadn’t carried many items; she likely had caches set up along her regular routes, convenient for retrieving as needed.

This Bai Shuixiao truly had extensive connections, with helpers everywhere.

Jiang Lian said softly: “She’s looking for help.”

The mountain dwellers of Greater Wuling were indeed efficient. By the next afternoon, they had already brought all the tools and equipment, driving directly to the entrance of Bahwang Village. According to the plan, after picking up Meng Jinsong’s group here, they could head straight to Xuandan Peak Forest.

Meng Jinsong was very satisfied with this efficiency, but as he came out to greet them, he saw someone who shouldn’t have been there.

Xin Ci.

Meng Jinsong frowned: “What are you doing here?”

Xin Ci gave him a sidelong glance: “What do you mean? Isn’t Qianzi my boss? Shouldn’t I be concerned about her?”

Meng Jinsong spoke bluntly: “If this were about doing Qianzi’s makeup, no one would be better than you. But in the current situation, I don’t see what practical purpose you serve besides causing trouble and holding us back.”

Xin Ci’s face flushed. In terms of combat ability, he was indeed at the bottom. But with everyone else running east and west, leaving him to wait idly at Cloud Dream Peak was truly torturous. Surely he could help a bit, even if just driving, adding fuel, gathering firewood, or guarding equipment?

Just as he was feeling awkward, he suddenly noticed Shen Gun bouncing about happily nearby. Xin Ci pointed at him: “Even this outsider is allowed to come along.”

Meng Jinsong glanced in that direction, then looked away, coldly responding: “He has something of value in his belly.”

Since Xin Ci had already arrived, Meng Jinsong couldn’t very well send him back. After all, once this was over, they would still be “colleagues,” and it wouldn’t be appropriate to handle things too harshly. But he did find it annoying: not knowing his importance, always pushing himself forward, truly the nature of a grand eunuch.

He deliberately snubbed Xin Ci, reaching out to summon Liu Guanguo, who was not far away, for a conversation.

These past two days, Liu Guanguo had been extremely busy, coordinating matters large and small, both at the front and the rear. One word from Meng Jinsong meant talking until his mouth was dry and running until his legs gave out.

He clutched his phone and jogged over.

Meng Jinsong asked him: “Any progress with the reconnaissance?”

Liu Guanguo was a diligent and honest worker, though lacking in cleverness and not particularly efficient. He nodded quickly: “There’s some… news. Our people have been scouting around, and two groups told me they saw a signal flower released from deep in the mountains.”

A signal flower?

Xin Ci was excited: “Was it released by our Qianzi?”

Who could know that? Liu Guanguo answered cautiously: “Some survey teams or adventure groups who go into the mountains have equipment to send signals outside. It’s hard to say if it was Miss Meng, but we can’t rule out the possibility that Miss Meng encountered them in the mountains and borrowed their equipment.”

Meng Jinsong interrupted: “It couldn’t have been from Qianzi. If she truly encountered a survey team or adventurers, she could have borrowed better communication equipment. Besides, signals are meant for specific people to see; she wouldn’t send a signal that we couldn’t interpret.”

Liu Guanguo quickly nodded: “Yes, indeed.”

Xin Ci looked down on Meng Jinsong’s assertive tone: “Don’t be so definitive. If it wasn’t from Qianzi, maybe it was from Bai Shuixiao? In my opinion, all anomalies should be noted…”

He asked Liu Guanguo: “Are signal flowers common in these mountains?”

Liu Guanguo hesitated: “No, they’re not common. And generally, a signal is just a bright point, but this was a flower.”

Xin Ci looked at Meng Jinsong: “See? Usually, none appear, but now that Qianzi is missing, suddenly one blooms… whether it’s relevant or not, couldn’t you spare a few people to follow up? It’s not like you’re short on manpower.”

Meng Jinsong fell silent for a moment. This was his virtue—he never acted rashly out of anger. As long as the other person made sense and if it benefited Qianzi, he could listen: “Can we pinpoint the signal flower’s location?”

Liu Guanguo shook his head: “Assistant Meng, looking at mountains wears out horses. A signal from deep in the mountains—we can only know the general direction, not the distance. It could be half a day away, or it could be three to five days.”

This left them helpless; they could only remain vigilant. Meng Jinsong felt frustrated. Just as he was about to call everyone to board the vehicles and depart, Liu Guanguo suddenly remembered something else: “Oh, right, Assistant Meng, about that Broken People Ridge…”

Meng Jinsong had a deep impression of Broken People Ridge: “What about it?”

“Yesterday, we had people go scout there, right? Today, just now, another group passed by and said it was strange—there’s no one in the village.”

“No one came out?”

“No, I mean there’s no one at all.” Liu Guanguo regretted his poor articulation, unable to explain clearly in a few words. “It’s like they vanished. In front and back of the village, nobody. Clothes half-washed still soaking in tubs, stove ashes still warm to the touch, and some tables with half-eaten meals, dishes not even cleared…”

He muttered, “Wonder if they fled from an inspection, but I haven’t heard of the government going into the mountains to check on this.”

Fleeing an inspection? Wouldn’t they have cleared away traces of illegal settlement if that were the case?

In a flash of insight, Meng Jinsong suddenly thought of something: “Was the Broken People Ridge emptied before or after that signal flower was released?”