These days, it was Que Cha and Sun Li’s turn to keep watch. Since they were preparing to withdraw, Sun Li stayed on the outskirts organizing equipment, while Ru Rong and Que Cha maintained their usual posts outside the Golden Man Cave, watching over Jiang Baichuan while waiting for Yan Tuo.
Jiang Baichuan could now move freely without restraints. Lately, he loved running wildly, as if the world had become vast and he was eager to explore it. He would often disappear in the blink of an eye, only returning when Ru Rong whistled for him.
Que Cha often stared blankly at Jiang Baichuan’s figure as he darted away. After turning fifty, Jiang Baichuan used to walk slowly with his hands behind his back, complaining that running was tiring. Though passionate about matters of the green soil, he rarely discussed them with Que Cha. When pressed, he would mysteriously hint that if his great endeavor succeeded, he might live to be a hundred years old, with even more vitality than in his youth.
Now, who knew if this could be considered the fulfillment of his wish?
…
Tonight, Que Cha had prepared a pot of mixed vegetables and meat. They had sauce packets on hand, and after Yan Tuo returned, everyone would get a paper bowl to dip their food in sauce – not unlike having a hotpot.
The pot was simmering, steam pushing against the lid with a rhythmic sound. The aromatic fragrance spread everywhere, giving Que Cha a sense of satisfaction.
Ru Rong lay to one side, one hand behind her head, the other tossing a marble up and down.
Que Cha tried making conversation: “Once this matter is concluded, where do you plan to go?”
Ru Rong replied: “First, I’ll deal with the South Ba troublemakers.”
With Jiang Baichuan incapacitated and Xing Shen gone, Ru Rong felt she should step up and handle these aftermath matters, after all, she was the “Ghost Hand.” Like Nie Jiuluo, she was also a beneficiary of Jiang Baichuan’s attempt to revitalize the Chain Head Army – what ordinary family would support a girl in beast taming, let alone invest heavily in training her?
“After that, I might try returning to Thailand.”
Que Cha glanced at her: “Isn’t China good enough?”
Ru Rong sat up abruptly, forcefully throwing the marble against the opposite stone wall before deftly catching it as it rebounded: “It’s fine, just not suitable for my wild nature. Someone like me finds it uncomfortable living a structured life.”
Que Cha responded with an “oh” and said: “I’ve never been abroad. Old Jiang rarely even took me out of the province.”
Then thoughtfully added: “Do you think someone like me would have opportunities in Thailand?”
Ru Rong replied: “Of course. For capable people, their skills are their path – they can make their way anywhere.”
Could someone like herself be considered “capable”? Que Cha felt both surprised and delighted. Just as she was about to speak, she glanced up and changed her words: “Yan Tuo’s back.”
Ru Rong lazily got up.
These days, they had grown accustomed to it – when Yan Tuo returned, they could start eating.
Yan Tuo’s footsteps drew closer.
Ru Rong lifted the pot lid, stirring the mixed vegetables without looking up: “Another fruitless trip?”
Yan Tuo didn’t respond immediately, walking to the side to wet some tissue paper with mineral water to wash his face, mumbling: “No.”
No?
Ru Rong thought she had misheard until Yan Tuo finished washing his face and sat cross-legged by the pot. She realized this time was different.
Yan Tuo’s eyes were bright, his face flushed, and his mood elevated. As he put food in his bowl, he said: “You’ll never guess – I met Aluo’s mother, Pei Ke.”
He ate while talking, and when reaching crucial parts of the story, he would stop using his chopsticks entirely. When tired from speaking, he’d give himself an intermission, lowering his head to eat vigorously.
In contrast, Ru Rong and Que Cha forgot about eating after hearing the opening, holding their bowls while waiting for the rest of the story. Nearly half the pot of food ended up in Yan Tuo’s stomach.
By the end, the two women exchanged glances, each seeing fear and doubt in the other’s eyes.
While Pei Ke’s story was shocking, being secondhand made it less impactful. Instead, Yan Tuo became increasingly difficult to understand. From his words, it seemed Nie Jiuluo was truly dead.
If so, why wasn’t he grief-stricken? Why did his face even show traces of… excitement?
Ru Rong swallowed and confirmed with him: “So Second Nie was… thrown into the ravine water?”
Yan Tuo nodded, forcefully chewing a piece of beef brisket.
Que Cha asked tactfully: “Then what do you… plan to do next?”
Yan Tuo put down his bowl, wiping his mouth with a tissue: “The water’s too high now, it’s flood season. Even fallen leaves get swept under. I’ll come back during the dry season.”
Ru Rong and Que Cha were dumbfounded. After a pause, they simultaneously reached for food with their chopsticks, as if trying to mask their confusion through eating.
After Yan Tuo entered the Golden Man Cave, Que Cha whispered to Ru Rong: “This Yan Tuo, he hasn’t gone mad, has he?”
They’d heard of a type of madness where people appeared normal on the surface, and spoke normally, but became obsessed with certain things to the point of insanity.
What did he mean by coming back during the dry season? What would he do then? His tone didn’t suggest he was planning to make offerings.
Was he planning to recover the body?
Had Yan Tuo gone mad?
The next day, according to plan, they locked the Golden Man Cave.
The mule team arrived on schedule to pick them up. Perhaps because the work was concluded, the muleteer was in good spirits and even actively greeted Ru Rong: “Professor Ru, finished with the research?”
Ru Rong felt embarrassed – it was the first time in her life someone had called her professor.
She looked back at the cave. Uncle Jiang would remain here from now on. Past fifty years old, unable to retire and enjoy life, instead having to live meal to meal, scraping by like a beast.
Then she looked at Yan Tuo, still maintaining his usual demeanor, as if this place held no sorrow for him.
…
Near the mountain entrance, communication signals returned, and Yan Tuo received a call from Lin Ling.
It wasn’t good news.
Lin Ling said that Mr. Cai, the one who had taken the sculpture from Nie Jiuluo’s home, had introduced her to a good sculpture training class, where he was also a shareholder and frequently visited.
That day, after class, she encountered Sister Lu looking upset, coming to speak with Mr. Cai.
At this point in the story, Yan Tuo still doesn’t understand the situation: “What happened to Sister Lu? Did something happen to her?”
He wanted to say that, given their acquaintance and connection through Nie Jiuluo, he might be able to help if Sister Lu was in trouble.
Lin Ling stamped her foot in frustration: “What happened? Yan Tuo, haven’t you realized? Miss Nie left with you over two months ago, and there hasn’t been any news from her – she’s missing!”
Yan Tuo was stunned.
At this moment, he felt himself returning to the mundane world: in the green soil, death was simply death, loss was simply loss, with no one questioning it. But in this real world of law and order, when people disappeared, relatives would file reports, and police would investigate and question.
Lin Ling worried: “Actually, Sister Lu suspected something early on, but she talked often with Uncle Chang Xi and knew you had a family and property. She thought someone of your status wouldn’t commit a crime, so she didn’t think too much of it. But after so much time…”
Yan Tuo made a sound of acknowledgment: “Has she filed a report?”
“Not yet. She’s just a housekeeper and doesn’t want to cause trouble for herself, so she goes to Mr. Cai. Mr. Cai has wide connections and is quite familiar with Miss Nie. Things might get complicated later – I’m giving you a heads up so you’re prepared.”
Yan Tuo said: “Whatever if anything happens, let the lawyers handle it.”
He was truly exhausted and didn’t want to get entangled in such a mess. Just throw money at lawyers and let them deal with it, giving him peace.
Lin Ling reminded him: “I’ve already moved out, but… since classes aren’t finished, I’m renting nearby. I suggest you don’t return to the courtyard either. In the current situation, how could Sister Lu possibly welcome you with open arms?”
Yan Tuo said nothing, hanging up in silence.
Indeed, he couldn’t return. That was Nie Jiuluo’s property, and legally, he had no relationship with her, especially now that he was under suspicion.
After a pause, he looked back toward where they had come from.
The dry season would come in autumn and winter, at least… half a year away.
Yan Tuo didn’t return to the small courtyard, instead going straight home.
With Lin Xiru gone, all matters great and small finally truly returned to his hands.
Apart from some major decisions being temporarily shelved, the company operated normally. After all, being a business of many years, even with the boss absent, it could coast on inertia for a year or two.
Beyond company affairs, there were many urgent matters to handle. Yan Tuo addressed them one by one.
—Cleared out the second underground level of the plantation, restoring the farm to its original state.
—Led by HR and Finance, specially formed a project team to sort through various operations conducted under his or the company’s name during Lin Xiru’s time.
—Kept Xiong Hei’s villa, firstly as a warning, and secondly because the villa was under Xiong Hei’s name and he couldn’t deal with it anyway.
Besides these matters, there were two major issues.
First was the mine his father had transferred, one of the exits from the green soil. Leaving it there made him uneasy. Moreover, the so-called “transfer” was just Lin Xiru’s sleight of hand – in reality, it was just moving from left hand to right hand, still under his name.
Yan Tuo learned that such abandoned mine shafts were usually just sealed at the entrance and left alone. However, according to the “Coal Mine Safety Regulations,” responsible enterprises would fill abandoned mining areas with gangue to prevent ground subsidence.
Using this as an excuse, he reported to relevant departments, expressing his intention to fulfill corporate responsibility by filling the mine. Honestly, this move was somewhat bizarre – after being abandoned for years, suddenly doing this had a hint of “too much money to burn.” But the Tang side had no reason to refuse – filling in empty mining areas was better than future collapse.
The second issue was assisting Ru Rong in exploring the South Ba Monkey Head.
He originally wanted to go personally but was busy with the mine matters. Ru Rong also indicated she was just doing initial reconnaissance with her team. She told him to ensure funding was available as she needed to purchase some serious equipment. Whether he needed to be present would depend on the situation.
Yan Tuo didn’t insist. Privately, he felt that even if South Ba Monkey Head held dangers, they wouldn’t be too severe: after all, they’d already faced the greatest danger in the green soil. If Lin Xiru had any major trump cards, she wouldn’t have been foolish enough to not use them in the green soil but save them for South Ba Monkey Head.
Unexpectedly, a few days later, Ru Rong called him in the middle of the night to inform him the matter was concluded.
She asked: “Do you know what was there?”
Yan Tuo recalled the eerie howls he’d heard that night when escorting Chen Fu along the mountain path past South Ba Monkey Head, though he wasn’t certain: “Earth Owls?”
Ru Rong said: “Correct, Earth Owls. Didn’t you mention Lin Xiru had more than one foothold in Stone River, but you’d never been there? I suspect this was one – expanded from a cave and quite well-built. No wonder when exchanging for the crippled father, she specified South Ba Monkey Head. It was her lair all along. Also, there’s a whole large box of soil.”
Yan Tuo asked anxiously: “Your people, they weren’t hurt?”
Ru Rong laughed dismissively: “What kind of formidable Earth Owls did you imagine? They’re also on your Excel spreadsheet – the failed batch. A few people were especially caring for them, definitely ghost servants.”
Yan Tuo suddenly understood.
The failed batch – he’d always thought “failed” meant dead, but not.
According to Ru Rong, this failed batch was more horrifying than the beast-form Earth Owls because they were half-human, half-beast. Among their deformed bodies, certain parts remained human-like, which made Que Cha vomit at the sight. The good news was that their limbs were uncoordinated, making them weak in combat. Due to poor evolution, they feared light, so they mostly huddled in the cave during the daytime and were only taken out for walks at night.
That explained why Yan Tuo and his group had heard strange sounds that night.
Yan Tuo finally understood why Lin Xiru would enter the mountains from Stone River for a period every year. Kidnapping people were probably just incidental – visiting this batch was likely the main purpose.
He asked: “So how do you plan to handle this batch?”
Ru Rong said: “Like Li Yueying, they can keep Uncle Jiang company.”
Li Yueying, with an arrow through her forehead, was dead but certainly not completely. Ru Rong had put chains on her limbs and inserted a needle at the seventh vertebra to restrict her movement, leaving her in the green soil.
Yan Tuo said: “That’s good.”
Then reminded her: “Wherever you go after this, Ru Rong, I hope you’ll come find me in half a year. I have something to do.”
The words “Don’t be crazy” reached Ru Rong’s throat but she swallowed them back, remaining silent for a moment before saying: “Alright.”
With major and minor matters concluded, he could focus on his personal affairs.
Half a year – both long and short.
During these six months, Lin Ling didn’t return. When he called, she only said she was learning sculpture, but actually, the sculpture course should have ended long ago.
Yan Tuo didn’t press further. Lin Ling’s life was hers to decide – she could return if she wanted, or if not, she could fly as high and far as she wished outside.
Old Cai did bring him some trouble, but Yan Tuo wasn’t angry. On the contrary, he felt somewhat comforted: besides himself, there were still others in this world who cared about Nie Jiuluo.
His only long-distance trip was to see Zhan Jing.
Still accompanied by that top salesperson, Zhan Jing couldn’t hold his liquor. After several rounds, he again complained like a deserted wife about his unforgettable old love.
Yan Tuo found it especially amusing and absurd.
This time, Zhan Jing spoke in more detail than before, living in his self-imagined script, firmly believing Pei Ke’s accident was orchestrated by Nie Xihong.
Yan Tuo suddenly asked: “Why couldn’t it have been Pei Ke who wanted to kill Nie Xihong?”
Zhan Jing didn’t understand: “Huh?”
Yan Tuo didn’t elaborate.
He had met Pei Ke – her scheming ran deeper than most.
Perhaps back then, it was Pei Ke who wanted to kill Nie Xihong.
When Jiang Baichuan invited Pei Ke to traverse the green soil, Nie Xihong didn’t need to go. Moreover, they had a daughter – he should have stayed home to care for her.
But he still went, perhaps because Pei Ke had insisted. She might have wanted revenge while keeping herself clean, and the green soil was perfect for “accidents.” After an accident, Jiang Baichuan’s group would all be witnesses.
However, when the moment came, fate had other plans, and she was the one who met with misfortune. Nie Xihong never knew of his wife’s murderous intentions, so he wept bitterly, grieving until he developed a death wish.
Whether it was Nie Xihong who wanted to kill Pei Ke, or Pei Ke who wanted to kill Nie Xihong – only Pei Ke herself knew the truth now.
…
Apart from all this, Yan Tuo spent almost all his time diving.
He studied diving, hired professional instructors to improve his swimming skills, learned about underground rivers, and kept up with new underwater equipment. He didn’t grieve – when feeling low, he would dive, immersing himself in water, holding his breath until the last second.
He often dreamed of Nie Jiuluo emerging from the water, dripping wet, hair loose, eyes red, asking him: “Yan Tuo, didn’t we agree? Wherever I am, you will be there too. Why haven’t you come to find me?”
In the dream, Yan Tuo somehow knew it was a dream.
He said: “Soon, Aluo. Trust me. I made a promise, and I keep my word.”
One evening half a year later, Yan Tuo was holding his breath in the indoor pool. During this time, his record had jumped from three minutes fifty seconds to four minutes.
Familiar-looking shadows flickered and rippled on the water’s surface.
Yan Tuo burst out of the water, wiping droplets from his face.
It was Ru Rong, wearing a patterned headscarf and a gaudy shirt, with a cigarette tucked behind her ear.
Behind her was Que Cha, sitting in a chair by the pool, wearing a trendy sweatshirt and Martin boots with shiny rivets, and surprisingly, a diamond stud in her right nostril.
Yan Tuo sighed. He still remembered when he first met Que Cha – she wore a deep V-neck long dress in apricot yellow, with big wavy hair, her features as delicate as a painting, the epitome of elegance.
Like attracts like – Ru Rong had single-handedly led Que Cha’s aesthetic sense astray.
Yan Tuo looked up and said: “You’re here.”
Ru Rong looked down at him for a while, then squatted: “Haven’t changed your mind? Still going?”
Yan Tuo said: “Going.”