Never in her life had Nie Jiuluo felt such panic.
There was no helping it – everyone had a weakness that could break them with a single strike, and hers was fear of water.
In her daze, she felt herself collapsed in darkness, filled with anxiety and terror. Then, a sliver of white light pierced through the blackness, and Yan Tuo followed this light, holding a gleaming bone-carving knife as he bent down over her.
Nie Jiuluo’s voice trembled uncontrollably: “What are you doing?”
Yan Tuo said: “Miss Nie, you’ve played me for quite the fool. I’ll peel your flesh off strip by strip, to let you know what retribution feels like.”
As he spoke, the knife tip descended toward her face.
Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled as she screamed: “No, don’t!”
As an artist, she had an ultimate pursuit of beauty. She couldn’t bear to imagine her face carved up into an uneven mess of valleys and craters – she’d rather die than face that.
In desperation, she reached out with trembling hands to steady herself against Yan Tuo’s waist. “Let’s talk about this.”
Yan Tuo asked her: “Talk about what?”
She said: “Anything, let’s just talk, take our time.”
As she spoke, her hand crept up his lower back, her fingertips tracing the contours of his muscles through the thin clothing. She drew closer to his lips, almost breathing the words: “Let’s talk.”
She knew she was beautiful – beauty could be both blade and shield.
Yan Tuo finally wavered and lowered his head to kiss her lips.
She let out a long internal sigh of relief, responding even more cooperatively to his kiss, thinking to herself: just pretend you’re being licked by a dog. Wait a little longer, until he becomes more intoxicated and entranced, then find the chance to kill him.
…
Nie Jiuluo’s eyes snapped open.
Night had fallen.
However, there was always light outside the window, enough to make out nearby surroundings – this was the advantage of living in the city center. Even when lonely, the lights wouldn’t let you feel alone.
Beneath her was a soft mattress, with curtains hanging around the bed.
Nie Jiuluo sat up with a start: this was her home, her bedroom.
What was going on? Had it all been a dream?
She immediately felt her hair – not a dream. Her hair was slightly coarse, still partially wet and dry. She had fallen into the water.
How did she get back? What happened in between?
Nie Jiuluo felt a chill down her spine. Instinctively, she slipped her hand inside her clothes, brushed across her chest, and then reached toward her inner thigh. After confirming there was no discomfort, she hurriedly got out of bed, opened the door, and leaned out the window.
The kitchen light was on, and Sister Lu was holding a watering can, sprinkling water in the courtyard.
Nie Jiuluo called out: “Sister Lu.”
Sister Lu quickly stopped and turned to look at her: “Miss Nie, you’re awake? Would you like dinner?”
Nie Jiuluo: “How did I get back?”
Sister Lu: “I don’t know… you… don’t know either?”
Sister Lu truly didn’t know.
She knew Nie Jiuluo had gone to see an exhibition, but wasn’t sure if she’d return for dinner, so around four o’clock, she called her.
No one answered.
Sister Lu decided to prepare for both possibilities, washing and cutting the vegetables and meat into various sizes. This way, if Nie Jiuluo came back wanting dinner, she could have dishes on the table within half an hour; if not, she could bag the prepared ingredients and put them in the refrigerator for tomorrow.
During this time, she answered the door for several deliveries and took out the garbage once.
After everything was prepared, she brought out a small stool and sat under the eaves to watch videos on her phone. While laughing at something amusing, she happened to glance over and notice the door to the main house’s first floor was open.
She found it strange – after finishing the cleaning in the afternoon, she remembered closing that door, but now it was open… Had Miss Nie returned?
Sister Lu went upstairs to check. No one was in the studio, and the bedroom door was slightly ajar. She peeked in: ah, someone was sleeping on the bed.
Figuring she must be tired from the exhibition, Sister Lu didn’t dare wake her. She reasoned that Nie Jiuluo must have returned while she was out taking the garbage, and they’d missed each other.
Nie Jiuluo brushed Sister Lu off with vague words and returned to her room, sitting down at her dressing table.
Without turning on the lights, only vague shadows were visible in the mirror. She looked at her reflection and suddenly felt like a stranger.
She had never encountered such extreme danger before and thus had no way of knowing how she would react. There was a saying that the self in dreams, stripped of all legal, moral, and cautionary restraints, was one’s true nature – every action a manifestation of the heart’s most naked desires.
In the dream, her fear had been real. It seemed she was afraid of death after all. In the face of terror, her knees would bend, and to preserve herself, she would pay any price, even resort to methods she would despise in reality.
This feeling wasn’t pleasant. It was like peeling away her façade, revealing something far from the glamorous image she maintained.
…
Suddenly, Nie Jiuluo thought of something and hurriedly pulled open a drawer, taking out an old phone.
Her current phone was probably lost to the water, but fortunately, phones updated so frequently that people usually had one or two spares. She plugged it directly into power, waited a moment to turn it on, connected to the home WiFi, then opened WeChat, entered her password to log in, and immediately made a voice call to Old Cai.
Old Cai thought she was calling to give feedback about the exhibition and answered leisurely: “Ah Luo, how was it? Were you inspired?”
Inspired my foot.
Nie Jiuluo spoke rapidly, almost breathless: “Old Cai, don’t you have friends who run private hospitals? I need a full body examination, the most thorough kind. I’ll come right now, arrange it immediately, and have the doctors work overtime if needed, cost isn’t an issue.”
She wasn’t so naive – Yan Tuo’s drowning attempt couldn’t have been just for fun.
Perhaps he had injected something into her, or installed something.
Ten minutes later, Nie Jiuluo swept out the door like a whirlwind, leaving Sister Lu with just a word about going for a medical examination.
Sister Lu was surprised: “This late? Won’t the hospital be closed? Maybe tomorrow would be better…”
Before she could finish speaking, Nie Jiuluo had vanished.
Sister Lu felt uneasy, sensing something strange about Nie Jiuluo since she’d returned from the exhibition. Such a rush to get a medical examination – had she found a lump somewhere?
Growing increasingly worried, she decided to wait for her return. The wait stretched until past one in the morning when Nie Jiuluo finally pushed open the main gate, utterly exhausted, her steps dragging.
Sister Lu approached anxiously: “The examination… everything okay?”
Nie Jiuluo said: “It’s fine.”
Then she walked past Sister Lu and returned to her room.
Though she said it was fine, everything about her face and body screamed “not fine.” Sister Lu couldn’t set aside her concerns. After much hesitation, she brewed a cup of wolfberry and longan tea and brought it upstairs.
Upon reaching the second floor, Sister Lu was startled.
Nie Jiuluo had moved most of the sculptures from her studio to the space by the platform, arranging them in a large circle of varying sizes and heights. She sat in the center of the circle, touching this one, stroking that one, before finally lying down contentedly.
Having already witnessed this, Sister Lu couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen anything. She stammered: “Miss Nie, why are you lying on the floor? Won’t you catch a cold?”
Nie Jiuluo said: “Look at them, aren’t they lovely?”
Lovely wasn’t the word Sister Lu would use. While Nie Jiuluo’s works were truly exquisite and detailed, Sister Lu could never agree they were lovely – she thought they were far less cute than Pleasant Goat and Beautiful Goat.
She set the tea on the table: “Of course, you’d find your work lovely.”
Nie Jiuluo murmured: “I almost lost the chance to ever touch them again.”
Sister Lu understood now: this must be young people’s paranoia – feeling slightly unwell and suspecting terminal illness, then after the examination showed nothing wrong, they become more appreciative of life, finding joy in everything.
Relieved that her employer was fine, Sister Lu shared in the happiness: “It’s wonderful that everything’s okay. Heaven is blessing you.”
Nie Jiuluo remained silent, relaxing further as her gaze gradually drew inward.
It wasn’t heaven – it was Yan Tuo blessing her.
For the next three days, everything returned to normal. Nie Jiuluo got a replacement phone number, making do with her old phone while planning to upgrade when major brands released new models. She spent the rest of her time practicing small hand sculptures: after kneading and preparing the clay, she could take a handful and shape it as she pleased.
Using Tang Dynasty Zhou Fang’s “Court Ladies Wearing Flowered Headdresses” as inspiration, she molded voluptuous beauties one by one, some chasing butterflies, others picking flowers. These Tang Dynasty ladies stood on her workbench in various graceful poses, creating a delightful sight to behold.
That afternoon, sunlight slanted through the window, warming her as she sculpted the “moth eyebrows” for the sixth beauty. From a modern aesthetic perspective, Tang Dynasty “moth eyebrows” weren’t actually attractive, being thick and round like moth wings, dotted on either side of the brow in a reverse figure-eight pattern.
Her phone rang – an unfamiliar number.
With clay-covered hands, Nie Jiuluo couldn’t unlock the screen, so she used the tip of her chin to swipe across it.
Yan Tuo’s voice came through: “Miss Nie?”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart tightened, then gradually relaxed. She glanced at the phone without responding, continuing to wrestle with the Tang lady’s eyebrows.
After sitting in silence for a while, Yan Tuo asked again: “Are you there?”
Nie Jiuluo said: “Say what you need to say.”
Yan Tuo: “Are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner together.”
Nie Jiuluo: “Where?”
Yan Tuo: “I’ll call a ride-share for you, picking you up at your door at six.”
Nie Jiuluo made a sound of agreement and said nothing more. After a few seconds of silence, Yan Tuo hung up as well.
Checking the time – four-thirty – there was still time for a quick shower before going out.
She set aside the court lady and took another handful of clay, beginning to mold Yan Tuo. She only aimed for a rough outline, not bothering with detailed features, so it took just a few minutes.
She stood the clay figure up, lowered her head to rest her chin on the workbench, and stared at “it” for a long while. Then she raised her hand and forcefully flicked it with her middle finger, sending the clay figure flying.
The figure spun through the air – the clay was soft from kneading, so it didn’t shatter when it hit the ground, just flattened.
Nie Jiuluo thought to herself: You win this round.
At six o’clock sharp, Nie Jiuluo descended the stairs wearing an ankle-length crimson dress with a high slit, topped with a black blazer and black lace-up heels.
Hearing the “click-clack” of high heels, Sister Lu poked her head out from the kitchen: “Not eating at home today either?”
Nie Jiuluo swung her silver diamond-studded small purse, saying: “No.”
Sister Lu watched her leave, feeling envious of both Nie Jiuluo and the young women today: How wonderful it was that they could wear whatever beautiful colors they wanted – deep purple, royal blue, crimson red, jade green – with such figure-hugging cuts and lines. Unlike in her time, when society was more conservative and wearing anything tight across the chest would invite whispers about impropriety.
She looked down at her waist with its excess flesh and thick legs with regret.
The car arrived at a pedestrian street entrance. The lanterns were just being lit for the evening, and it was dinner time with crowds flowing back and forth. After Nie Jiuluo got out, unsure where to go, a young waiter wearing an apron waved to her: “Miss Nie? The guest said the place might be hard to find, so he asked me to meet you.”
Indeed it was hard to find – the restaurant wasn’t on the main street but down an alley on a side street, a traditional braised meat shop tucked away at the very end. These days, even the finest wine feared deep alleys – with such poor location, business was naturally slow. No wonder they could spare staff to guide customers even during peak dinner hours.
Nie Jiuluo scanned the small shop but didn’t see Yan Tuo.
The young waiter pointed behind the stairs leading to the second floor: “He’s in the private room.”
Such a shabby shop actually had private rooms – Nie Jiuluo lifted her skirt and ducked past the stairs. There really was one room, with blue printed fabric curtains. Pushing them aside revealed a square table with Yan Tuo sitting behind it.
Nie Jiuluo didn’t look directly at him, walking straight over to sit across from him. She put her purse on the table and gathered her skirt to adjust the chair – the legs were uneven, but fortunately so was the floor, and after some shifting around she found a stable position.
Watching her efforts, Yan Tuo said: “I’m sorry, the place is humble – not worthy of your outfit.”
Nie Jiuluo glanced at him, responding lightly: “What I wear is my pleasure – it has nothing to do with who I’m eating with or where.”
After a pause, she added: “You’re truly insane.”
Honestly, in her life up until now, he was the only one who had ever gotten the better of her. Whether friend or foe, anyone who could best her earned her respect.
She should thank him for the warning though – in future conflicts, she would absolutely avoid going near water.
The “insane” comment was likely about him driving into the water.
Yan Tuo nodded: “We’re alike then. Shall we order?”
“Let’s order.”
Yan Tuo pulled the bell cord hanging on the wall, and soon the waiter brought their dishes – all small plates of braised meats: beef, tripe, crayfish, chicken wings, peanuts, edamame, seaweed knots, lotus root slices, and so on. They also brought half a pitcher of beer, a pot of chrysanthemum tea with two cups, and a thermos of hot water – set up for a long, leisurely meal with conversation, where they could refill their tea. They could easily spend three to five hours here.
As the waiter left, he pulled closed a sliding door by the stairs. Though just a thin panel, it immediately muffled the noise from outside to near silence.
Yan Tuo bent down to pick up a paper bag from beside his feet: “This is for you.”
Nie Jiuluo took it and looked inside.
It contained all her belongings lost during the drowning incident, but anything water-damaged or unusable had been replaced with new items of the same or better quality – so there was a new bag, and a new latest-model phone, but these weren’t the main point. Nie Jiuluo reached in and shifted things around until she saw her dagger, then let out a long sigh of relief – everything else could be lost, but not this, it was one of a kind.
Even the snap button she had planned to make Yan Tuo swallow at their next meeting was there – he probably didn’t know what she had intended it for, so he included it as well.
Nie Jiuluo set the paper bag aside without showing any reaction, waiting for Yan Tuo’s next move.
Sure enough, there was another act – he took off his jacket, then lowered his head and pulled his T-shirt off from behind.
Hah, stripping now – what was he planning?
Nie Jiuluo stared. She had hoped that when the T-shirt lifted, it would reveal layers of fat, but Yan Tuo’s shoulders and back were broad and round, his muscles solid – there was nothing to criticize about his physique. Besides, at his age, a man’s body was fully developed and at its most vigorous.
After a moment, she looked away, knowing what Yan Tuo wanted her to see: his injuries, though mostly scabbed over, were still shocking to behold – lines and marks everywhere, presumably suffered while in Jiang Baichuan’s hands.
Nie Jiuluo avoided his gaze, focusing on the curved spout of the teapot: “I was only responsible for the handover. I couldn’t control what others did.”
Yan Tuo agreed: “But without your help in the middle, I wouldn’t have suffered these torments. I won’t show you my legs – there’s still a rotting patch where the doctor had to scrape away the dead flesh bit by bit.”
Nie Jiuluo looked up: “So?”
“So, when you fell into my hands, I could have done the same things to you, even just carved a few lines across your face with a knife.”
This seemed irrefutable. Nie Jiuluo’s finger pressed the rim of her teacup, making the bottom tilt and spin on the table surface.
Yan Tuo put his arms through the T-shirt sleeves and pulled it back on: “But I did nothing – just took you home. Miss Nie, I’ve given you a great gift, and I want something in return.”