Yan Tuo didn’t understand. “Death penalty? Was that person a juror?”
He recalled that in foreign countries, death penalty cases often involved jury votes, but he wasn’t sure if this system applied domestically.
Then he realized something wasn’t right. He knew the people on the list well and had analyzed their backgrounds: most had jobs with low entry barriers and involved physical labor—flower cultivation, waiting tables, bar singing, and such. There weren’t any relatively professional positions like jurors.
Lin Ling said, “I’m not sure either. That person was probably afraid the driver would get suspicious. After hanging up, he unnecessarily explained that it was about a criminal in their area who hadn’t been sentenced yet. There was supposedly a public opinion survey in the newspaper about whether people supported or opposed the death penalty. The driver didn’t think much of it and was fooled.”
“But if you think carefully about what was said—what does he mean by ‘your opposition doesn’t matter, everyone has already voted’? Death penalties are decided by courts, not public votes. And then emphasizing ‘rules must be followed’—it’s all very strange.”
It was indeed strange, especially coming from someone who was supposedly a Dixiao.
Who were they sentenced to death? Could it be Jiang Baichuan? And they needed to vote on it? Since when did Dixiao care about democracy?
Yan Tuo’s heart raced, but he forced himself to calm down: it didn’t make sense. Xiong Hei had casually shot off half of Jiang Baichuan’s foot like it was nothing. If Lin Xiru wanted him dead, wouldn’t it just take a wave of her hand? Why would they need others’ opinions?
Before hanging up, he asked Lin Ling, “Have you been sleeping well at night lately?”
Lin Ling knew what he meant. “Yes, fairly well.”
Yan Tuo let out a sigh of relief. “Don’t overthink it. You were probably just too anxious during that period.”
Lin Ling was silent for a moment before saying softly, “Or maybe it’s because everyone else is away right now, and I’m the only one here.”
Everyone else was away—including the pervert who had snuck into her room that night.
That possibility couldn’t be ruled out. Yan Tuo said, “Lock your door when you sleep at night. Keep the cameras fully charged. If you happen to wake up while something is happening, pretend you don’t know anything. Don’t resist or alert them. Wait until they’re gone before doing anything.”
Lin Ling made a sound of agreement, her voice trembling slightly.
Yan Tuo ended the call without offering any comforting words. He wasn’t a mother hen; he couldn’t keep her under his wing forever.
Besides, he couldn’t let her become too dependent on him. What if one day he died?
After hanging up, he studied those people’s profiles.
Of the two going to Shi He, one was Chen Fu, in his early thirties, currently living in Linyi, Shandong. He was an excavator operator, clearly the strong and capable type. The other was Han Guan, in his twenties, living in Changsha. He was good-looking but had a somewhat sleazy charm, and worked security at large events like car shows and celebrity concerts.
Going to Shi He…
Yan Tuo had a thought: were they going to support the Monkey Head of Nan Ba?
Looking at the three headed to the farm, they were so different that they’d never cross paths if not for appearing on the same list.
The oldest was Li Yueying, in her sixties, who ran a paper-cutting shop in Yangzhou, Jiangsu. Yang Cut was considered a national intangible cultural heritage—if you stretched it, she could be considered half a colleague of Nie Jiuluo.
The youngest was Feng Mi, barely in her twenties, based in Xiamen. She was a bar singer with some local fame.
The last one was a male, Yang Zheng, in his forties, engaged in flower cultivation in Kunming.
Two to Shi He, three to the farm—clearly, the farm matter was more important.
He needed to visit the farm.
***
After returning to the hotel, Nie Jiuluo took a long nap and had a beautiful dream. She dreamed of hosting an international touring exhibition, with elegantly decorated galleries. She wore a backless gold shimmer gown, walking on expensive, soft carpets.
In the rest area, journalists from various countries were waiting to interview her.
Just as she was about to reach the door, she stopped.
Old Cai beside her asked, “What’s wrong?”
She replied, “Ah, achieving my life’s goal so easily makes me feel a bit empty.”
…
It was such a beautiful dream that when she woke up, she almost forgot where she was. The afternoon sunlight was particularly gentle, and golden, making it hard to remember that winter lay just beyond the glass.
Nie Jiuluo lazed about for a while before getting up to pack—she had entrusted Jiang Baichuan’s matter to Yan Tuo, and Xing Shen had gone to meet Yu Rong, so it was time for her to head home.
…
At this hour, it was the transition between check-out and check-in times. The front desk was quite busy. As Nie Jiuluo was hesitating about which line to join, a young front man actively gave up his spot, smiling as he said, “Ladies first.”
Nie Jiuluo glanced at him.
He was quite handsome, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, but she didn’t like men who exuded “I’m handsome” from every pore of their being.
If he wanted to let her go first, fine. Nie Jiuluo said a brief “thanks” without even returning his smile, walked past him, and handed over her room key.
The man looked somewhat disappointed, but just then he received a phone call and couldn’t dwell on it.
He walked a few steps away to answer the call.
As Nie Jiuluo finished her business and passed by his side, she heard him laugh loudly: “Great, great, I’m checking out now. It’s been so long, I’ll be right over.”
Being so loud in a public place—his manners didn’t match his face.
Nie Jiuluo walked out of the lobby while internally criticizing him, and hailed a taxi to the station. There was no airport in this city; she needed to go to Xi’an first, then fly home.
It wasn’t a short drive. She was scrolling through her phone in the back seat, bored when three “burn after reading” messages came in succession.
Nie Jiuluo sat up straight.
The minor character was contacting her again.
Opening the app, the first two were photos of two men, and the third was a text message: Chen Fu and Han Guan, these two are likely Dixiao, and will be active in Shi He soon.
Dixiao?
Nie Jiuluo’s heart jumped. She carefully looked at the two photos before they burned away in flames.
She inconspicuously licked her lips, paused for a moment, then tapped the driver’s seat back. “Driver, I’ll pay you extra to turn around and go back to the hotel.”
Hearing about extra money, the driver turned around without another word.
***
The man in the second photo, Han Guan, was the one who had given up his spot for her at the hotel front desk.
Most people might not have recognized him, because the photo Yan Tuo sent was old and rather stiff, like an ID photo. The hairstyle, demeanor, and dress were all quite different from the current Han Guan.
However, Nie Jiuluo studied sculpture, and she was particularly sensitive to the spatial dimensions of physical forms. When looking at faces, she would strip away all the fancy and flashy packaging, quickly establishing the rough outline and relative positions of pure facial features.
She was confident she hadn’t mistaken him. That man was Han Guan.
That person had evolved more perfectly than Dog Tooth, truly becoming a “human-form Dixiao.”
This was also her first chance to encounter such a Dixiao.
She needed to figure out some things, like whether blood viscosity could still be used to identify Dixiao, and since the Dog family’s noses were useless against them, what about her knife?
***
She got lucky—just as she arrived at the hotel entrance, she saw Han Guan get into a taxi.
Nie Jiuluo pointed at that car and told her driver, “Follow that car. How much to hire you for the whole day?”
The driver quoted high: “Four or five hundred.”
Nie Jiuluo: “I’ll give you five hundred. Don’t take other fares today.”
The driver agreed without further questions. After doing this job long enough, whether helping catch cheating spouses or following people, you encounter all sorts of strange requests. He kept his eyes on the car ahead, following at a steady pace. After about ten minutes, the car in front stopped at a restaurant.
A man in his thirties was already waiting at the entrance. As soon as Han Guan got out, the two embraced warmly, patting each other’s backs vigorously, looking every bit like old friends reuniting.
Nie Jiuluo could see clearly that the other man, with his square face, drooping eyes, and hooked nose, was Chen Fu.
She got the driver’s number, asked him to wait nearby, then got out and entered the restaurant.
It was quite upscale, with a main dining hall and semi-enclosed private rooms on both sides—semi-enclosed because although each room had a door, the partitions were wooden boards rather than walls, and didn’t reach the ceiling.
Well past meal times, the restaurant was quiet. The server tried to seat Chen Fu and his companion in the main hall, but Chen Fu objected: “Aren’t there private rooms?”
The server explained: “The private rooms aren’t available right now…”
Chen Fu glared: “What do you mean not available? You’re just being lazy. I’m the customer, I’ll sit wherever I want.”
He pulled at Han Guan: “Come on, we can talk better with the door closed.”
With his burly build and fierce expression, the server could only silently comply and reluctantly led them to a private room.
Nie Jiuluo watched from afar, noting the room’s location.
Seeing another customer arrive, another idle female server hurried over.
Nie Jiuluo gathered her emotions, then looked up with reddened eyes and said softly, “Could I have a private room?”
The female server was taken aback, thinking why would someone dining alone need a private room? Just as she was about to politely refuse, Nie Jiuluo made a shushing sound and pointed at Chen Fu’s room: “Don’t let them hear. That young man just now is my fiancé. We were about to get married.”
The female server didn’t understand.
Nie Jiuluo’s eyes grew redder: “We were about to get married, then I found out he likes men. I followed him here…”
The female server suddenly understood: “Him and… that man?”
Nie Jiuluo nodded, raising her hand to wipe away non-existent tears: “I want to go into a private room to hear what they’re saying. Could you help me?”
As a fellow woman, how could she not help? The female server quickly nodded: “Of course, go ahead.”
Nie Jiuluo asked her: “Please let your colleague know too, don’t let those two know I’m next door.”
The female server nodded solemnly, using her stern gaze to stop her confused colleague nearby, indicating that everything had its reasons and she’d explain later.
***
This was how Nie Jiuluo, like a ghost, slipped into the private room next to Chen Fu’s under everyone’s watching eyes.
She sat quietly in the room for a while, first putting her phone on silent and even controlling her breathing to be gentle, then pressed her ear against the partition.
They had finished ordering, and Chen Fu was shouting at the server: “Go on, don’t come back unless we call!”
The server, probably aware of the situation in this room, left quickly.
Nie Jiuluo heard Han Guan laugh: “I thought I might see Sister Lin on this trip. First Xiong Ge said she was busy, then said she’d already left. Such a shame.”
Chen Fu sighed: “Sister Lin has it tough. Come, let’s drink to Sister Lin.”
The sound of clinking glasses followed.
Han Guan: “Brother Chen, about Dog Tooth’s matter, which side did you vote for?”
Chen Fu: “Is that even a question? That bastard broke the rules, death of course. What about you?”
Dog Tooth?
Was it the Dog Tooth whose eyes she had stabbed out? Nie Jiuluo’s scalp tingled.
Han Guan: “Same here. When I heard about this, I had to laugh. Brother Chen, we’ve all been through it, right? But he couldn’t hold back? If he can’t even get past this little hurdle, what use is he? Keeping him around would only cause trouble.”
Yan Tuo had said these two were “likely Dixiao,” but now, because of that line “we’ve all been through it,” Nie Jiuluo was certain they were.
Chen Fu lowered his voice: “But I heard Xiong Ge wants to protect him.”
Han Guan: “Why?”
Chen Fu’s voice dropped even lower: “Haven’t the legendary Bandaged Army shown up? I can understand Xiong Ge’s intention—it’s exactly when we need people. Better to use him than kill him.”
After this statement, neither spoke for a while, silently eating, with only occasional chewing sounds coming through.
When they spoke again, Han Guan sounded nervous: “The Bandaged Army… how many are there? How much… how much do you think they know about us?”
Chen Fu laughed at him: “Look how cowardly you are. Sister Lin has everything under control. I heard the Bandaged Army is finished—the dog noses are useless, the Mad Knife is paralyzed, and even their leader was beaten half-dead. They sent us here this time to see if we can round up the rest.”
Nie Jiuluo felt confused.
The Mad Knife is paralyzed? Who’s paralyzed? Among them all, only Old Knife had any connection to “paralysis”—did they think Old Knife was the Mad Knife?
Her heart suddenly started racing: This must be Jiang Baichuan’s deliberate misdirection.
Han Guan said awkwardly: “It’s just… always hearing about the Bandaged Army gives me psychological shadows.”
Chen Fu sneered: “Don’t think they’re so mythical. You’ll see when we get to Monkey Head—I heard they caught four of them there.”
After this, there was another round of drinking and passing dishes.
Han Guan spoke first: “Did you see Sister Ying when you came from Xi’an?”
Chen Fu: “No, isn’t she at the farm? I heard her health isn’t good?”
Han Guan: “I saw her. Yes, her health is poor, her face was very pale and she had no energy.”
Chen Fu sighed: “Can’t be helped. The blood sac wasn’t chosen well. She was among the first batch, as early as Xiong Hei. She’s lucky to be alive. Those before Xiong Hei all failed, and even after him, not everyone succeeded. Sister Lin didn’t have experience then, everything depended on luck. We came later, things became more refined, should be better.”
What was this blood sac thing?
Nie Jiuluo wanted to hear more, but they stopped talking about it. After a while, Han Guan sighed: “It’s not easy for us to stay alive.”
Chen Fu agreed: “You can say that again.”