Hearing Xing Shen’s voice, Nie Jiuluo breathed a sigh of relief—his tone and voice were strong, suggesting he was unharmed.
She slowed her pace, increased the flashlight’s brightness, and shone it toward Xing Shen’s location.
He looked alright—wet and dirty with grass ash, disheveled but nothing serious. The grasshopper crouched behind Xing Shen, almost motionless—probably afraid that movement would draw her attention.
Xing Shen smiled: “I knew it was you who scared the grasshopper-like this. Just smelling you from ten meters away would make it wet itself in fear.”
Just as Shaolin disciples must pass through the “Wooden Men Lane” before venturing into the world, to achieve the title of Mad Blade, the final test was to feed one’s blade with ground owls. In ancient times, those bearing the title “Mad Blade” had to take down at least three ground owls alone with a single blade.
Under Jiang Baichuan’s arrangements, Nie Jiuluo underwent intensive training during summer and winter breaks, honing her body and blade skills. At thirteen, she cunningly overpowered Lao Dao; at fifteen, her blade mastery was complete—the grasshopper had “died” more than three times at her hands. To the grasshopper, she was truly the God of Death.
So its fear was reflexive—seeing her meant terror.
Xing Shen had watched one of these battles when his eyes could still see. Throughout the entire fight, his blood had surged with excitement. What he admired most about Nie Jiuluo wasn’t her skill, but her fierce spirit.
However, regrettably, perhaps due to studying sculpture and needing to temper her nature over the years, he felt that fierce spirit gradually disappearing from Nie Jiuluo. She just wanted to be ordinary—Xing Shen found it too wasteful. The world wouldn’t miss one more ordinary person, so why waste such talent? When the Mad Blade gathers dust, can it still be called Mad Blade? The old saying goes: when Mad Blade meets Mad Dog, legends are born. But with Mad Blade sheathed and boxed away, what legends could emerge?
He had asked Jiang Baichuan to think of something, but Jiang declined diplomatically: “In the current situation, with nothing particularly pressing, it’s enough that Second Nie helps occasionally. Xing Shen, times have changed. People need to integrate into life.”
Integrate into life—a boring life of three meals and sleep, what was worth integrating into?
Sometimes, Xing Shen felt he was truly born in the wrong era. Those who could become legends now could only experience legendary lives in games—and because of his eyes, he couldn’t even do that.
…
Nie Jiuluo walked over: “If I’d known you could handle it yourself, I wouldn’t have rushed here so urgently.”
As she spoke, her gaze swept around: “Where’s Lao Dao?”
Lao Dao lay slumped by the riverbank, eyes tightly shut, face frighteningly pale. Only after holding a hand near his nose for a long time could one detect a faint breath.
Hearing it was a head injury, Nie Jiuluo didn’t dare do anything—if it were flesh wounds, she could have helped bandage and treat them.
But the head…
Better leave it to professional emergency personnel.
Nie Jiuluo first sent Jiang Baichuan a message describing the situation here, then waded through the water to the car to find Xing Shen’s phone, having him call emergency services under the pretense of a car accident—this place was too far from the city center; she estimated that even at top speed, an ambulance would take about forty minutes.
After waiting for the call to finish, she asked Xing Shen: “Yan Tuo’s companion—human or owl?”
Xing Shen pondered briefly: “No owl scent, should be human. Probably like Yan Tuo, also a ghost-servant. But that person was quite cunning, holding their breath and playing dead, fooling both me and Lao Dao. And the grasshopper, when it should have attacked, it hesitated—otherwise things wouldn’t have ended up like this…”
He gestured toward the lying Lao Dao.
Nie Jiuluo had a rough outline of what had happened: “That Yan Tuo… he didn’t attack you, did he?”
“The grasshopper took him down; he didn’t get a chance to attack. Should be nearby—didn’t you notice when you came?”
Nie Jiuluo: “No.”
After a pause, she added: “Just saw the grasshopper dart past and followed it.”
Xing Shen bent down, extending his hand toward the grasshopper, which docilely placed its right claw in his palm.
He sniffed the scent, unhurried: “Can’t have gone far, probably collapsed somewhere. When Uncle Jiang and the others arrive, we’ll search around.”
Nie Jiuluo remained silent. After Sun Zhou was injured by the dog’s teeth, although he became sloth-like and sluggish, he at least “held on” for a while, even managing to drive himself to the hospital and back to the hotel. This might have been because the dog’s teeth had become “humanized,” and its bestial nature weakened—the grasshopper was different. It was purely a beast; being clawed or bitten by it would cause physical discomfort very quickly.
Xing Shen relied on having the grasshopper as his trump card, which made him fearless and abruptly provocative.
She paused before saying: “You let the grasshopper harm people?”
Xing Shen countered: “Why shouldn’t I? Is that even a person? That’s a ghost-servant. Think about Sister Hua, Crippled Dad, our three missing people, and Lao Dao. If we weren’t considering keeping him alive to negotiate with the other side…”
Nie Jiuluo laughed coldly: “If you weren’t considering that, you’d kill him, is that it?”
Xing Shen heard the mockery in her tone and looked embarrassed, changing the subject: “It wouldn’t go that far. Luo, tell me… what’s special about that person? Why wouldn’t the grasshopper attack them?”
Nie Jiuluo couldn’t figure it out either: if the grasshopper was getting old and losing its fighting spirit, it certainly hadn’t shown any mercy to Yan Tuo. If that person carried something that could control ground owls, why the discrimination—why not give one to Yan Tuo too?
She replied flatly: “Don’t know, ask Yan Tuo.”
Xing Shen made a sound of agreement: “This guy’s tight-lipped, but no matter…”
Nie Jiuluo’s heart stirred, and she raised the flashlight slightly, illuminating half of Xing Shen’s face.
He wasn’t wearing sunglasses. His eyes were empty, and lifeless, his lips pressed thin with corners slightly downturned—in her memory, Xing Shen was always smiling, smiling gently and warmly, making it easy to overlook his other side.
The last time he had this expression was after she angrily smashed the sculpture. Not long after that, his eyes went blind.
Someone so harsh with himself would only be more cruel to others.
Nie Jiuluo’s fingers loosened slightly, letting the light fall lower as she said: “Is this where you encountered them? I’ll look around for any clues.”
The “surroundings” were very clean, with nothing new to discover except tire tracks and a pair of abandoned children’s shoes.
The grasshopper wanted to put on the shoes but didn’t dare—with Nie Jiuluo present, staying close to Xing Shen was safer.
Not long after, the sound of vehicles came from the distance. The ambulance should have come from the city; this was the opposite direction—Nie Jiuluo checked the time. Jiang Baichuan had said he’d arrive half an hour after her, and she had arranged to meet her driver in half an hour too.
She turned the flashlight to full power and drew two circles in the sky, half to confirm identity and half to provide location. After a while, light circles appeared in the distance too, drawing three circles.
This was called “two followed by three”—they matched. Jiang Baichuan’s people had arrived in two Prados, one after another, gradually coming into view.
Nie Jiuluo instructed Xing Shen: “I’ll go from the south. My car should arrive soon. Before it does, don’t let them go south.”
She didn’t want to meet unnecessary people. Xing Shen nodded, indicating he understood.
Nie Jiuluo retraced her steps. As she approached where she had first seen Yan Tuo, she heard her phone’s continuous buzzing.
She quickened her pace but was stunned when she got close.
Yan Tuo had vanished.
The phone was at her feet. She picked it up and looked—the caller was someone named “Xiong Hei.” Nie Jiuluo hesitated briefly before answering and bringing it to her ear.
Xiong Hei on the other end was jumping with anger but also relief: “You finally answered! Where are you? I’ve searched the whole east side, damn it.”
Not understanding and unable to speak safely, Nie Jiuluo hung up. Checking the call log, there were nineteen missed calls, all from Xiong Hei.
She turned off the phone, pocketed it, and followed the blood trails and broken grass: if no one had helped, someone injured by the grasshopper couldn’t have gone far.
Sure enough, about a hundred meters from the original location, she found Yan Tuo. He was curled up on the ground, breathing rapidly, constantly clutching at his chest. Then he staggered to his feet, took a few steps forward before his legs weakened, and rolled to the ground, facing the sky and gasping for air.
Nie Jiuluo walked to his front and crouched down.
The flashlight was too bright, making Yan Tuo’s eyelids twitch, but he still recognized her. He raised his hand, grabbing the hem of her coat: “Miss Nie, I still have… important things to do, can’t… can’t get in trouble.”
Nie Jiuluo pinched the coat’s edge and pulled, making Yan Tuo’s hand fall away: “Whether you get in trouble or not isn’t my concern.”
Yan Tuo’s head was throbbing, the world spinning: “Help me… leave here. Name your… conditions. I really… can’t be locked up by Board Teeth… again.”
He wasn’t stupid. Nie Jiuluo had arrived, and there were distant sounds of cars and people—Board Teeth’ people had come. The first time he fell into these people’s hands, he was lucky to be rescued. The second time wouldn’t be so easy; he might be locked away for a very long time, three to five years without seeing daylight, or possibly disappear forever.
He couldn’t get in trouble—he was the only one left in his family.
Nie Jiuluo stood up.
Yan Tuo looked up at her. Due to his distorted vision, she seemed incredibly tall and very distant, unreachable, giving him a heavy sense of pressure—fate truly liked to toy with people. The first time he fell into Board Teeth’s hands was because of her, and now the second time’s outcome lay in her hands again.
He managed to say: “Miss Nie, I’ve never harmed anyone, nor hurt your…”
Blood surged in his chest, and his wounds felt like they were crawling with ants. The pain made it impossible to continue speaking.
Nie Jiuluo looked down at him, conflicted.
Theoretically speaking, since the other side had kidnapped so many of Board Teeth’s people, it wasn’t unreasonable for Board Teeth to keep Yan Tuo to negotiate with them.
But he didn’t even know what ground owls were, appearing to be just a minor figure. Moreover, if she handed him over to Jiang Baichuan and the others, he would certainly suffer terribly—losing a piece of flesh would be the least of it.
Most importantly, based on their interactions so far, he seemed to adhere to certain principles and didn’t appear to be truly serving evil…
Not far away, a car horn suddenly sounded—her car had arrived.
The sound seemed to push her toward a decision. She looked back: this place was far from where Lao Dao was injured, with grain grass providing cover between them. Even Xing Shen’s eyes couldn’t reach this far.
She waved to the car, then pointed to a spot below the road embankment.
That position would perfectly cut off the view from the other side.
Coming down there? Alright!
The driver happily complied—as long as the money was right, his service would be impeccable.
Nie Jiuluo knelt, smeared blood from Yan Tuo’s wound on her hand, tore off several strips of cloth, then took off her coat and threw it to him: “I can’t drag you. If you want to leave, get up yourself. Cover your upper body, don’t draw attention. Get in the car immediately, hurry!”
Yan Tuo had already given up hope, but hearing this sudden chance through his haze, he found strength from somewhere. Wrapping himself tightly in the coat, he staggered to his feet. Nie Jiuluo pulled him along, practically shoving him against the car before opening the door and pushing him in.
She instructed the driver: “Drive slowly once you’re on the road, as slow as possible, but don’t stop. I should catch up in about five minutes. I’ll pay you when I get in.”
The driver was confused at first, but hearing “pay,” he felt reassured and reminded her: “I’ll go at 20 kilometers per hour, but you’ll need to run fast.”
Once this car left people from the other side would come.
Nie Jiuluo let out a light sigh. She adjusted the flashlight back to low power and covered the light with her finger again. First, she trampled nearby traces, then hunched down and ran in another direction, occasionally breaking stalks at their base and estimating height to smear blood on the grain grass. She strategically dropped and snagged cloth strips, creating a trail far enough and deviated enough before turning back and quickly heading in the car’s direction.
As for the driver, although he followed instructions, he was worried. Seeing Yan Tuo’s poor condition and the blood on his face made him even more nervous, fearing the woman would disappear and leave a half-dead person in his car.
Only when Nie Jiuluo got back in the car did he finally breathe a long sigh of relief?
After getting in, Nie Jiuluo’s priority was reassuring the driver. She took out her phone from the coat and started transferring money to him. Before the transfer was complete, Yan Tuo’s body convulsed again, his face paper-white, and the coat’s corner slipped, revealing the bloody wound at his collarbone.
The driver saw this in the rearview mirror and was struck speechless with fear, not daring to move.
The electronic voice announced: “Alipay received: 1000 yuan.”
Nie Jiuluo picked up the coat’s corner and carefully covered Yan Tuo again, then looked directly at the rearview mirror: “This is my husband.”
The driver’s gaze wavered uncertainly between the rearview mirror and the road: “Oh, oh, you… you make a good couple.”
“He was fooling around with other women and got slashed.”
So that’s it! No wonder this man was in such a state and covered in blood!
Not a crime case but a moral one—the driver suddenly felt the distance between them shrink.
“I originally got a call to pick someone up, but then I got so angry I also slashed that person just now.”
Going to slash someone for a husband who cheated—these days, women were truly broad-minded and… brave. The driver swallowed.
“So, driver, when we get to the hotel, help me carry him in. He’s dead weight; I can’t move him. Take your money and go, and let’s pretend we never met. Don’t go to that area for the next few days to avoid complications and being treated as my accomplice.”
The driver felt deeply grateful, thinking this young woman was clear-headed and responsible. If she ever got caught, he hoped she’d get a light sentence.