Though the car was parked on the side of the road where traffic was rare, darkness was falling. For safety’s sake, Nie Jiuluo retrieved a fluorescent triangle warning sign from the car and set it up in the direction of oncoming traffic before walking back with her portable lamp.

Along the way, she picked up a stone.

As she reached the edge of the wild hemp field, she heard Old Qian’s voice calling from within: “Oh dear, young man, what… what happened?”

Nie Jiuluo hurried toward the voice. A familiar white SUV came into view, complete with its distinctive front bumper guard.

Could it be Yan Tuo?

The driver’s door was open, with Old Qian standing beside it, wringing his hands uncertainly. “I don’t know first aid. Aren’t we not supposed to move injured people? Should we call emergency services?”

Nie Jiuluo approached the door and raised her lamp to look inside. The airbags had deployed, and Yan Tuo was slumped over the steering wheel, unconscious—or perhaps “deeply asleep” would be more accurate.

His breathing sounded steady, without the labored quality typical of injury. Nie Jiuluo instinctively glanced at the passenger seat.

The stuffed duck hadn’t been so lucky. Incompatible with the seatbelt, it had tumbled under the seat during impact, landing upside down with its tail in the air.

Beside the duck, something gleamed with a metallic sheen.

Nie Jiuluo dropped the stone and reached past the airbag to retrieve the object.

It was a manual injection syringe, different from disposable medical ones. The needle was thicker, with a stainless steel and glass graduated cylinder containing a brownish liquid that swirled inside.

Turning the cylinder, she noticed a steel stamp near the top of the opposite side. While most stainless steel products were stamped with brand logos or “304” to indicate quality, this bore a seal in small seal script of the character for “fire”—even without knowledge of ancient scripts, one could recognize it, as the ancient and modern forms were quite similar.

Old Qian drew in a sharp breath. “Is this… drugs?”

He’d never seen drugs or how they were used, only knowing about “injection” from news reports. Seeing Yan Tuo unconscious and Nie Jiuluo examining the syringe so intently, his mind immediately jumped to dark conclusions.

Nie Jiuluo found it somewhat amusing and gestured to the needle. “The internal diameter is over a millimeter—far too thick for human use.”

As she spoke, her gaze fell on Yan Tuo’s exposed neck. With him slumped forward, the injection site was visible.

Her knowledgeable tone seemed to reassure Old Qian, and he was about to speak when Yan Tuo let out a muffled groan and slowly raised his head.

Old Qian’s relief mixed with concern: “Young- young man, are you alright? Hey, don’t move around…”

To Yan Tuo, everything seemed to buzz, the voices grating against his splitting headache. His vision swam between light and dark, his body felt weightless, and the ground seemed to tilt beneath him. He fumbled with the seatbelt, stumbled out of the car, and nearly fell. After barely steadying himself, nausea surged up, and he bent over his knees, dry heaving twice before mumbling, “Where am I…?”

Old Qian, ever helpful, hovered with outstretched hands like a protective mother goose, afraid the man might fall. “Young man, you’ve had an accident. Don’t move around—better not move at all. Come, sit down, take it slow.”

With Old Qian providing dedicated care, Nie Jiuluo saw no need to crowd around. She directed her lamp toward the back seat, illuminating a tilted suitcase.

Old Qian’s words echoed in her mind: “There must be something valuable in that case.”

How valuable could it be? A case full of diamonds?

She cast a sidelong glance at Yan Tuo, who sat on the ground with his back to her, head hung low between raised shoulders.

Old Qian called out to her: “Miss Nie, is there water in the car? He’s… really out of it, barely conscious. Some water might help.”

Nie Jiuluo leaned into the car, looking around. “No…”

Before she could finish, her heart suddenly seized.

The SUV had a continuous cargo area. From outside, she couldn’t see into the rear compartment, but now, standing higher with the lamp’s illumination, she saw clearly: there was a canvas bag in the back, its outline somehow unnatural.

Canvas bag?

Quick-cut images flashed through her mind: a canvas bag in Xingba Village that Yan Tuo had forcefully thrown into his rear compartment; the night before, the ugly man emerging from Sun Zhou’s room, carrying one just like it.

Were they the same? The more she looked, the more similar they seemed.

Her heart pounding, she quickly glanced back at Yan Tuo. Fortunately, he was still holding his head, not fully alert.

Nie Jiuluo quickly climbed into the back seat. The high seatback made it difficult to climb over. She braced against it, leaning forward as far as she could while stretching her arm to reach the bag’s zipper.

Once, twice—her abdominal muscles strained painfully with the effort. On the third try, she finally managed to pull the zipper open about four inches with a sharp zip.

Sun Zhou’s pale, lifeless face seemed to leap out at her, wedged in the zipper’s opening, appearing swollen and translucent in the lamplight.

Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled, but she remained alert. Hearing movement outside, she quickly turned back.

It was Yan Tuo, approaching unsteadily while holding his head. Old Qian was nowhere to be seen.

It was too late to close the zipper now. Nie Jiuluo tried to act naturally while subtly shifting her body to block Yan Tuo’s view.

Yan Tuo only noticed someone in his car when he reached it, frowning. “Who… who are you? What are you doing in my car?”

Nie Jiuluo forced a smile. “I’m looking for water. Where’s my… friend?”

“He went to get water. I don’t have any in the car…”

As he spoke, he’d already put one foot up, and as he ducked to enter, his whole body suddenly tensed.

Even Nie Jiuluo could sense this tension.

It wasn’t hard to understand—like an office worker who oversleeps, dazed one moment then suddenly realizing “Damn, I’m late, they’ll dock my pay!” becoming instantly alert with hair standing on end.

That’s how it was for Yan Tuo. In that instant, he became fully alert—even vigilant. Everything came rushing back: the earlier incident, the dangerous situation, the secret in the car. His entire body coiled like a drawn bow.

He raised his head to look at Nie Jiuluo.

Outside, all was quiet. The wind rustled through the hemp, and though summer had passed, there remained that sense of “cicadas making the forest seem more silent.” From far off came the faint sound of the rear compartment opening and closing—Old Qian must still be searching for water.

Yan Tuo’s gaze reminded Nie Jiuluo of a hawk she’d once seen: sharp, dangerous, unfathomable, yet calm.

Her fingers loosened slightly on the lamp’s handle, trying to angle the light downward, hoping to dim the interior enough that Yan Tuo wouldn’t notice the opened bag—though she knew it was likely futile.

Yan Tuo said, “Looking for water… checked the rear compartment too?”

Nie Jiuluo’s smile stiffened as she made a vague sound of agreement.

Yan Tuo realized his view was blocked. Keeping his lower body still, knees pressed against the seat, he leaned sideways, looking past her into the rear compartment for two seconds before returning his gaze.

Nie Jiuluo didn’t point out what they both knew. “Since you’re alright, I won’t disturb you further.”

As she reached for the back door handle, Yan Tuo slapped the glove compartment. The cover popped open with a click, revealing a gun lying at an angle.

He took out the gun but didn’t point it at her, keeping it lowered at his side as he asked, “What’s your name? I’m Yan, Yan Tuo.”

“Surname Nie, Nie Jiuluo.”

Yan Tuo nodded, gesturing toward the passenger seat backrest. “Miss Nie, since you’re here, let’s chat a while. No need to rush off.”

As he spoke, he noticed the overturned stuffed duck, picked it up, dusted it off, and placed it by the windshield.

With things having reached this point, there was no need for pretense. Nie Jiuluo laid it all out: “Mr. Yan, I’m not alone. My hired driver is still outside.”

Yan Tuo looked out through gaps in the hemp stalks, where a figure could be dimly seen carefully descending the earthen slope, heading their way.

“A hired driver, working hard all day for barely any money. If you want him to end up like Sun Zhou, by all means, bring him in too.”

Nie Jiuluo fell silent for a moment. “What do you want?”

Yan Tuo gestured again at the passenger seat. “Like I said, let’s talk. If we talk it out well, nothing happens. If not… we’ll see.”

Better to cooperate and maintain dignity than wait for Yan Tuo to force the issue.

Nie Jiuluo gripped the front seats and climbed over to sit in the passenger seat.

Yan Tuo leaned down. “Left hand, angle it downward.”

Does the sitting position have requirements? Nie Jiuluo complied without thinking. Yan Tuo reached under the seat and retrieved something. With a click, he’d cuffed her wrist.

Nie Jiuluo started. Only then did she see it was a single handcuff with a chain that disappeared under the seat. She tugged, but it wouldn’t budge—clearly welded in place.

That wasn’t all. Yan Tuo bent down again and pulled out another from under the floor mat. “Move your foot over.”

Nie Jiuluo silently complied.

She wore short boots with pants tucked in just above them, revealing slender, pale ankles. Yan Tuo found the arrangement awkward for cuffing and considered asking her to remove the boots, but thought better of it and clicked the cuff shut.

Finished, he straightened up and held out his palm. “Phone.”

Nie Jiuluo cooperated and handed it over.

Yan Tuo pocketed the phone and pointed at Old Qian approaching. “Send your driver away. Make it reasonable, don’t raise suspicions.”

This seemed absurd. Nie Jiuluo replied irritably, “He’s my hired driver, specifically responsible for my transportation. He’s supposed to take me back to the hotel. How am I supposed to send him away?”

Yan Tuo coldly replied, “That’s your problem. If you can’t manage it, invite him in. My car has room, and I have enough bags.”

Nie Jiuluo mentally cursed.

What nonsense!

Old Qian arrived, panting and holding a bottle of mineral water, looking confused. “Young man, you’re better? Miss Nie, why… why are you in his car?”

Nie Jiuluo said, “You can go back. I’ll ride with him.”

Old Qian grew more confused. “But Miss Nie, I’m supposed to take you back to the hotel. Are you going with him? Do you know each other?”

They didn’t seem to know each other. When Nie Jiuluo first saw the driver, she’d acted normally—if it was a friend, wouldn’t she have shown concern or called out?

Nie Jiuluo smiled, reaching through the window to take the water, then gestured at Yan Tuo. “What do you think of him?”

What about him? Old Qian was bewildered. “He seems… fine, though he should probably get checked at a hospital to be safe.”

Nie Jiuluo interrupted. “I mean his looks.”

Old Qian was speechless. “Huh?”

Well, his looks were certainly fine, with that face and build, but why suddenly ask about appearance?

Old Qian answered honestly: “He looks good.”

Nie Jiuluo remained composed. “I think so too. Just asked about his rates—quite reasonable. I’m going to book him for a few days. You head back first, I’ll still pay for the car, and I’ll call when I need you again.”

Old Qian looked like he’d been struck by lightning.

He’d heard young people these days were more open with their private lives, hooking up in bars without even knowing names, but that was just hearsay. His immediate circle remained relatively conservative. To suddenly witness such behavior firsthand was shocking.

Moreover, he’d always had a good impression of Miss Nie—young, beautiful, cultured, talented, with a pleasant personality and gentle way of speaking…

Who could have guessed? You really can’t judge a book by its cover. The artists were terrifying! Here he was trying to help someone, and she was already making arrangements. And to speak so openly about such unseemly matters, as if it were perfectly normal! Of course, the man was no better—barely recovered from an accident, barely able to walk straight, yet already taking customers, desperate for repair money?

The world was going to the dogs!

Still, business was business. Old Qian tried to keep his personal feelings separate from work and prioritize his client’s safety. “But… Miss Nie, isn’t this unsafe?”

Even for such services, one should go to established places, not pick up roadside workers.

Nie Jiuluo said, “It’s fine. I checked the reviews, and they’re quite good.”

Reviews?

Old Qian’s worldview was shattered completely. This business had online shops. With reviews? How could the government allow this?

Before leaving, he gave Yan Tuo a duck-like stare and noticed the stuffed duck by his windshield.

Then he understood.

It must be a professional symbol, he thought, like the red flowers of the anti-Qing restoration society in TV dramas that identified members to each other—Miss Nie must be a regular customer. Without industry knowledge or experience, one wouldn’t recognize such signs.