The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Nie Jiuluo decided to go directly from Taxi to Shihe.

On the day of her departure, Nie Dongyang drove her to the station. Nie Jiuluo watched the street scenes pass by as the car sped along, with pedestrians and street trees rapidly receding behind them.

Nie Dongyang made conversation with her: “Missing it already?”

There was nothing to miss. On the contrary, this trip home had washed away what little attachment she had left for her hometown.

She opened her phone: “Uncle, I’ll transfer the money for the death anniversary ceremony. Send me your payment code.”

Nie Dongyang said: “Ah, forget about this small amount. You can pay next time we hold one.”

This was sincere. The incident with Nie Jiuluo asking for the necklace suddenly made Nie Dongyang realize that they had indeed taken quite a lot from her. Continuing to grab bits and pieces from her would look rather unsightly.

Nie Jiuluo said: “I need to transfer it. There won’t be a next time.”

She wouldn’t come back anymore.

Whether it was the thirtieth or fiftieth death anniversary, she wouldn’t return.

Back in Shihe County.

Her last visit was in late summer and early autumn. Less than two months had passed, but there were already signs of winter here. Nie Jiuluo hadn’t brought enough clothes, so she placed several orders for winter clothing online, making sure to request express shipping.

With two days left until the eighth, she spent most of her time reading in the hotel, not inquiring about progress on Jiang Baichuan’s end. She only needed to arrive at the designated place at the designated time to do what needed to be done. As for the rest, she was too lazy to ask and didn’t want to know.

That night, after reading for a long time, her eyes felt dry. Nie Jiuluo rubbed her eyes and looked out the window.

Outside, countless fine white particles were being pushed by the wind, slanting down in the warm indoor light.

Was it snowing?

Counting the days, it was indeed time for snow. Nie Jiuluo walked to the window and opened a pane.

Cold wind carrying snow particles instantly rushed in, but because the air conditioning was on inside, it didn’t feel cold. Instead, the air felt particularly crisp and fresh, cleansing both heart and lungs.

Due to the late snowfall, there weren’t many people outside. The parking lot lights melted into a large patch of soft warm orange in the snow lines. A man stepped out of a car that had just parked.

The snow was light, not enough to need an umbrella. The man stood beside his car under the light, face turned to the side, patiently watching snow particles slowly pile up on his coat shoulders, then reaching out to gently brush them away, like stealing a moment of leisure to play a little game whose secrets only he knew.

Nie Jiuluo thought to herself, what a coincidence running into him here.

It was Yan Tuo.

Then again, it wasn’t much of a coincidence. Shihe County only had this one high-end hotel. He stayed here last time, so of course he would stay here again this time, just like her.

After brushing his shoulders clean, Yan Tuo raised his head to look at the hotel building through the falling snow.

Nie Jiuluo didn’t move. She felt that suddenly dodging away would draw more attention. There was only one person in the parking lot, but the hotel had hundreds of bright windows. He wouldn’t necessarily spot her, and even if he did, he would just think she was another guest opening their window to watch the snow.

Yan Tuo’s gaze swept across this section.

For a moment, for no reason at all, Nie Jiuluo felt that Yan Tuo had seen her.

Outside the window, the snow gradually became sparse. It seemed this snowfall wouldn’t amount to much.

Nie Jiuluo closed the window.

Before bed, as usual, she wrote down three things from her day. However, the day had been very ordinary. After thinking hard, she could only write down one thing: “Yan Tuo came again, but he didn’t see me.” After another thought, she added a question mark at the end.

After writing the date, she skillfully folded a star, which turned out light and airy.

She flicked the star upward, waited for it to fall, caught it in one hand, and then aimed at her open suitcase nearby. Just as she was about to throw it, the hotel’s internal line phone on the bedside table rang.

Nie Jiuluo lay on her side, reaching out to grab the phone: “Hello?”

Yan Tuo’s voice came through: “Miss Nie, do you have time to talk?”

Nie Jiuluo’s movements froze, her gaze withdrawing as she slowly sat up on the bed: “Yan Tuo, do you not understand what ‘we’re even’ means?”

Yan Tuo: “I do. From that day on, we became strangers. But starting from zero also means infinite possibilities—as long as there are mutual interests, we can still talk, right?”

Nie Jiuluo: “We’re not familiar, have no mutual interests, and I don’t welcome your calls.”

Just as she was about to hang up, Yan Tuo said: “I saw Gou Ya.”

Nie Jiuluo’s heart skipped a beat.

Yan Tuo: “He hasn’t woken up, but he’s recovering well. I asked, and they estimate in another month or two, he’ll be able to climb walls and run between courtyards. Miss Nie, if you don’t welcome my calls, I won’t bother you. However, I welcome you, anytime, whether by phone or in person. I’m in room 406.”

He brought up Gou Ya. It seems he also knew Gou Ya was the foundation for their continued dialogue: Currently, storms were brewing between both sides, with Sister Hua and Limp Father being casualties. The only reason she could still live a peaceful life was because Gou Ya remained asleep.

406.

Great achievements require flexibility in small matters. Should she go talk to him?

Nie Jiuluo had already pulled back her covers, but after a second thought, she pulled them back up.

He was probably certain she would come and was waiting to open the door for her, right? Well, she wouldn’t go. Let him wait, wait all night, wait until he couldn’t sleep.

He called first, so he was more anxious than her. Why should she rush?

Nie Jiuluo turned off the lights and went to sleep.

The next day, Nie Jiuluo got up early. After washing up, she went to the restaurant for breakfast.

They say the weather is clearest after snow. Though the snow hadn’t amounted to much, it had delivered quite a nice clear day. Nie Jiuluo got her food and chose a window seat booth. Sunlight pushed through the bright window glass, leaving a large, dazzling patch of light on one side of the table.

Yan Tuo came over with his tray and sat down across from her.

Nie Jiuluo slightly raised her eyelids to look at him.

Yan Tuo knew that in a crowded place, she would be restrained and polite, so he felt no pressure and even recommended dishes to her: “Their red bean buns are quite good, the filling is very smooth.”

Nie Jiuluo: “I don’t have time for small talk, please get to the point.”

Yan Tuo actually wasn’t in the mood to chat either, he was just being polite and trying to warm up the conversation. He didn’t expect her to find even that bothersome.

“Miss Nie, your companion has disappeared, yet you don’t seem concerned at all.”

Companion? Oh, he meant Limp Father.

Nie Jiuluo: “None of them are my companions. I don’t have companions.”

Yan Tuo looked up at her: “You say you’re an ordinary person, that you don’t care about these things and have no interest, yet whenever something happens, we can see you there. Miss Nie, what exactly is your role in all this?”

Nie Jiuluo threw the ball back: “What about you? What’s your role? Limp Father was kidnapped, you helped quite a bit, didn’t you?”

Yan Tuo was silent for a moment, then said: “Believe it or not, I’m just a minor character. I didn’t know about Limp Father’s kidnapping; when he was brought in, I wasn’t involved in the questioning; when he was locked up, I couldn’t even see him—that’s the kind of role I have.”

Nie Jiuluo made an “oh” sound: “Sounds quite frustrating. But though your role is minor, your ambitions aren’t small. It seems you’re secretly planning something?”

Yan Tuo surprisingly admitted it straightforwardly: “Yes, personal matters. Miss Nie, we’re not familiar, so I won’t elaborate. What about you? It seems you owe Ban Ya’s people quite a lot of money?”

Nie Jiuluo was slightly stunned, then remembered: The night she handed Yan Tuo over to Jiang Baichuan, Yan Tuo had woken up during the latter half and probably overheard some of their conversation.

She didn’t hide it: “They’re short on people, and I happen to be someone with skills who owes them money, so when they need help, I come to lend a hand.”

Yan Tuo had witnessed Nie Jiuluo’s skills firsthand, so calling her “talented” wasn’t an exaggeration.

“So you’re working to pay off your debt?”

“Yes, once it’s paid off, we’ll be even.”

Even—she liked using that word as if a relationship was an object that could be thrown away with a wave of the hand.

For the first time, Yan Tuo found her naive: “Miss Nie, debts are best paid with money. The kind of help you’re providing is too likely to bring trouble—just like this time if I hadn’t lied, you would be in trouble.”

Nie Jiuluo said: “This is my personal matter. We’re not familiar, so I won’t explain.”

Yan Tuo felt that their previous exchange was like two people extending feelers, each hitting a wall.

But isn’t that how relationships between strangers work, with such strict boundaries?

Personal matters, not familiar.

Then let’s talk business.

He got straight to the point: “Last time, Gou Ya’s group already knew about you and wanted to investigate you. You were lucky to stay uninvolved. This time, if you encounter them, I hope you’ll try to cover your face. If you’re exposed, it’ll cause trouble for me too.”

Nie Jiuluo said: “Don’t worry about that. I have a main occupation; helping people is just a side job. When doing side jobs, I don’t show my face. Revealing my identity to you last time was purely accidental.”

That’s good, Yan Tuo felt slightly relieved: “Regarding Gou Ya, I can occasionally see him when accompanied by others. If you have any secret methods to keep him sleeping, I can help. Helping you with this is helping myself.”

Nie Jiuluo pondered for a moment: “Having him bask in strong sunlight would work.”

Doesn’t this lady know what “secret” means? Gou Ya isn’t a sweet potato that can be dragged out to sun-dry.

“Burning his fatal wound with naturally occurring fire would also work.”

Natural fire is medicine for those bitten by Di Xiao, but poison for Di Xiao themselves.

Yan Tuo had to remind her: “Miss Nie, it needs to be secret. As I said, I can only see him occasionally, and there are people ‘accompanying’ me. I can only do small tricks, and they need to be quick.”

Nie Jiuluo stared at him for a while, as if measuring his reliability, then finally said after a pause: “Then I’ll think of another way and let you know when I do.”

Yan Tuo felt relieved again: That meant she had a way, but she was just being cautious and wanted to observe him for a while longer.

Haste makes waste, so Yan Tuo didn’t press her: “Then… Miss Nie, we could add each other on the ‘burn after reading’ app for easier communication.”

Nie Jiuluo: “You have an account?”

“I saw it on your phone last time, and thought it was useful, so I registered.”

Nie Jiuluo thought for a moment. Although she and Yan Tuo weren’t exactly “in the same boat,” they did have some collaborations that were better kept private. Might as well add him.

They took out their phones and scanned each other’s codes in the bright sunlight.

Though Nie Jiuluo was a user of the burn-after-reading app, she had always felt it was for people operating in grey areas and for cheating couples. She had thought that besides “that side,” she wouldn’t add anyone else.

After settling accounts, relationships could indeed start from zero, and their direction was truly unpredictable.

Putting away her phone, Nie Jiuluo asked: “For this hostage rescue, what’s your assigned role?”

Yan Tuo said: “Don’t know, waiting for instructions. Most likely they’ll give me a location to pick someone up, like last time.”

Last time?

Nie Jiuluo’s mind stirred: “Last time, you went to pick up Gou Ya?”

“Yes, before they went into the mountains, they set a meeting point. They said if anything happened and people got separated and couldn’t make phone contact, they’d wait there.”

“Set at Xingbazi Township?”

Yan Tuo shook his head: “A township is too large an area, that would be sending me to my death. It was set at the abandoned temple in western Xingbazi. That day, when I found the temple, there was no one inside, but there was a ladder, camera, and toolbox. I even checked the camera and saw it had photos of sculptures. I guessed someone must have been working there, so I left the temple to look around.”

That day?

She remembered now. That day at noon, she needed to use the bathroom and went east to find a public toilet. On the way, she had seen a white SUV and wondered where its owner had gone. Thinking back now, at that same time, Yan Tuo must have been at the abandoned temple.

While she was examining the duck in his car, he was looking through her photos.

The feeling suddenly became a bit strange.

Also, the abandoned temple—why was the pickup location set there? Was the other party very familiar with Xingbazi Township? Or did the temple have special significance?

The origin of the temple was…

Driver Lao Qian had told a story about a young wife…

Young wife?!

Nie Jiuluo’s scalp suddenly tingled. She had always treated that young wife’s story as just a local legend heard during travel, never thinking about it again after hearing it.

—The young wife that Second Brother met in the great marsh wore mismatched clothes, pieced together from here and there as if she had stripped clothes from dead people to wear.

—She had been burned by heavenly fire. Most people would have died from such burns, but she had lingered for a year without dying.

—She had devoured Second Brother.

—The old Taoist cast divination and said the root cause was in the great marsh. They needed to pour molten iron to seal the opening. After it was sealed, similar incidents indeed stopped happening.

…

Many characteristics of the young wife were actually very similar to Di Xiao, but at that time, the notion that “Di Xiao are beasts, not humans” was so deeply rooted that she hadn’t thought in that direction at all.

Also, didn’t Yan Tuo just mention “going into the mountains”?

Nie Jiuluo blurted out: “What did they go into the mountains for?”

Not long ago, when Xing Shen and others were traveling through Qingrang, they had told her about finding two empty tents in the mountains, with all supplies and even a change of clothes still there, but the people had vanished.

Were those Gou Ya’s companions’ tents? Probably not—even if they were too lazy to break camp, they would have taken their equipment and clothes, right?

Or perhaps… the people in those tents had been taken by Gou Ya’s companions?

Yan Tuo: “They don’t even take me when they go into the mountains, so I know even less about what they do there. What about you? What’s your assignment this time?”

Nie Jiuluo said: “Also waiting for instructions, to see what Ban Ya’s side arranges.”

Yan Tuo made an affirmative sound. The conversation reached its first lull at this point. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say; he was still considering how to phrase it.

But Nie Jiuluo truly had nothing more to say. She cleared her throat: “Do you have anything else? The reason we use burn-after-reading is that we don’t want to leave records of contact. These kinds of public meetings, I think we should avoid them when possible.”

Yan Tuo caught her underlying meaning: Even if we’ve met, you should get lost quickly.