Nie Jiuluo’s vivid description made Yan Tuo shudder just imagining it. No wonder Lin Ling was scared enough to call him in the middle of the night, having experienced it firsthand.
After sitting for a moment, he said, “Let me show you something.”
As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and logged into his email. The Excel spreadsheet was stored in a hidden path on his computer, but since the computer was too bulky to carry around, he had archived a copy in his email.
Before opening it, he explained to Nie Jiuluo, “This spreadsheet was stolen from Aunt Lin’s computer. I believe it might be the current list of Di Xiao.”
A Di Xiao list?
Nie Jiuluo was shocked. “You even got your hands on the Di Xiao list? Who knew you’ve been so busy behind the scenes?”
Yan Tuo gave a self-deprecating smile.
There’s an old saying, “Keep your head down while pulling the cart, but look up to see the road.” In those past years, he couldn’t see the road ahead, so he threw himself completely into pulling the cart: gathering bits and pieces from everywhere, like assembling fragments of an enormous map.
He had experienced despair, depression, and doubt, but then he would think—if he stopped, everything would be lost. If he kept going, at least there was hope ahead. They say heaven rewards the diligent; with how hard he was working, surely heaven wouldn’t let him down.
He had opened this spreadsheet countless times before without making any headway, but this time, secrets finally surfaced.
He zoomed in on the page to show Nie Jiuluo number 017, Zhu Changyi.
“This is the most recent one. He’s in Anhui, working as a construction worker, living with a woman named Ma Mei from the work site. Ma Mei has a nine-year-old child named Zhou Xiao from her previous marriage to Zhou Dachong.”
Then he flipped to number 014.
“This one is called Shen Lizhu, and she is in her fifties. She is working as a waitress at a hot pot restaurant in Chongqing. She has an adopted sister called Yu Caiyan; they rent a place together. Yu Caiyan has a six-year-old daughter.”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t notice anything special looking at just one entry, but when the two were placed together, the pattern emerged, and she couldn’t help but let out an “Ah.”
Yan Tuo said, “You see it too, right? These people are distributed across the country, in various occupations. I couldn’t understand it before, thinking they were just not putting all their eggs in one basket, spreading the risk. After talking with you, I suddenly realized we should be working backward.”
He had Lin Ling follow up on this spreadsheet, especially focusing on these people’s intimate relationships. Only now did he realize that the most overlooked, most invisible people in the spreadsheet were the key.
Where had Ma Mei’s ex-husband Zhou Dachong gone?
Since Yu Caiyan had a daughter, she must have had a husband—where was he now?
Applying the pattern from the young wife’s story, could these invisible people be the “leaders”?
Zhou Xiao and Qianqian were second-generation offspring with close blood ties to the “leaders.”
These Di Xiao had quietly become their close associates, even relatives—which made sense, as they would naturally want to keep their own “supplements” under close watch, locked within their sight, to feel secure.
Nie Jiuluo remained silent for a moment. “Are the others like this too? Do they all have children around them?”
Yan Tuo shook his head. “Lin Ling could only track down limited information, so some relationships are unknown and left blank. Some aren’t children either. Look at this one.”
He opened number 006, Wu Xingbang, a man in his thirties working as a taxi driver in Henan.
“He has a girlfriend called Xu Annie, who used to be a hostess but later quit and became a waitress at a restaurant. Lin Ling once told me she had witnessed Aunt Lin ordering Xiong Hei to kill someone. Of course, she didn’t see it directly, only heard it.”
“The victim begged loudly for mercy, saying he had a daughter called An’an who was just starting her third year of middle school. If he died, his daughter would become an orphan with no one to rely on.”
Xu Annie, An’an—both names contained the character “An.”
Nie Jiuluo’s mind stirred. “So this Xu Annie is…”
Yan Tuo nodded. “The age matches. I suspect that after the victim’s death, Xu Annie was left helpless, couldn’t continue school after middle school, and later became… a hostess until Wu Xingbang appeared and helped her quit.”
Nie Jiuluo felt a wave of empathy for her fellow woman. “Xu Annie probably sees Wu Xingbang as her savior.”
Yan Tuo said, “Isn’t it ironic? They’re lovers now, but they can’t have children. If I’m not mistaken, Wu Xingbang, like Aunt Lin, has probably started thinking about forced breeding.”
Nie Jiuluo remained silent for a long while, slowly leaning back, finding sudden comfort in the pillows, blankets, and soft mattresses compared to this harsh reality.
It was too cruel.
She had asked Yan Tuo to tell her about recent events, wanting to gauge how the situation had developed and whether she could remain safe. She never expected such a horrifying story to unfold.
Not a story—this was happening in reality.
Yan Tuo glanced at her. “Tired?”
It was almost one o’clock. He didn’t mind, but she was injured—even healthy people suffer from staying up late, let alone someone in her condition.
“Want to rest first?”
Nie Jiuluo shook her head. “What do you plan to do about people like Xu Annie?”
Yan Tuo said, “I’ll figure something out. Save whoever we can. How can we just watch them suffer like this?”
Nie Jiuluo: “I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while. Your mother’s complete paralysis and coma, your father’s death—are they related to Lin Xiru?”
Yan Tuo tacitly agreed, then added after a pause, “I also had a younger sister. When she was about two, Aunt Lin took her away. She’s been missing ever since.”
Nie Jiuluo: “Let me say something selfish. Wouldn’t killing Lin Xiru avenge your family? The others are indeed pitiful, but you’ve never even met them. Setting aside whether you have the ability, don’t you think you’re taking on too much? People in trouble pray to heaven, but does heaven help everyone? If even heaven can’t manage it all, how can you?”
Yan Tuo smiled. “Are you thinking this man is being too righteous?”
Nie Jiuluo: “Not really. If I were Xu Annie, I’d be willing to kowtow to someone who saved me like that.”
Yan Tuo looked into Nie Jiuluo’s eyes. “Miss Nie, perhaps we have different definitions of ‘revenge.’ Do you think I’d be satisfied with just killing Lin Xiru?”
“My father is dead, and the dead can’t come back. My mother is completely paralyzed, beyond saving. Any day now, the care facility might call me to arrange her funeral. My sister has been missing for over twenty years. I haven’t given up searching, but I’m mentally prepared that she might be dead. Would killing Lin Xiru settle all of this?”
Nie Jiuluo asked calmly, “Then what’s your idea of ‘settling’ this?”
Yan Tuo, who had been leaning forward, slowly sat back. “After she came to our family, she used my father’s influence to gradually put down roots, accumulate wealth, and build her empire over twenty years to reach today’s scale. Everything she’s built—I want to pull out every nail, break down every wall. However she crawled up from the underground, I’ll make her crawl back down the same way.”
So, every time he saved someone like Xu Annie, it was like slapping Lin Xiru hard across the face.
Saving people satisfied both his conscience and his path to revenge.
After a long while, Nie Jiuluo finally spoke: “I’m not mocking you, but one person can’t accomplish this. You can barely save Lin Ling.”
Yan Tuo couldn’t argue with that. He laughed heartily, then said softly, “True.”
That’s why he valued his life—the longer he lived, the more he could do. Even when taking risks, he calculated carefully, taking only the most worthwhile ones.
Nie Jiuluo said, “However, there are people who could help you.”
Yan Tuo vaguely guessed, “You mean Jiang Baichuan’s people?”
“Don’t you think so? Although there’s been unpleasantness between you and them, the enemy of my enemy is a friend. They can use your information, and you can use their manpower. I haven’t had much contact with Ban Ya’s people, and they probably aren’t saints, but you’re not looking to make friends, right? It’s mutually beneficial, a win-win. Besides, I think you need to interact with them anyway, at least to let them know you’re not a ghost servant.”
It was necessary, very necessary. Otherwise, they might come after him again someday.
Nie Jiuluo read his expression: “If you’re interested, I can be the intermediary and help connect you.”
Yan Tuo’s mind raced.
As adults, setting aside emotions and preferences, and just focus on the matter at hand.
He needed help, the sooner the better, and the Chan Tou Jun faction was most suitable—they understood the Di Xiao’s origins, were more capable than ordinary people, and could take these risks.
He nodded. “Alright.”
Then asked her, “What about you?”
Nie Jiuluo was startled. “What about me?”
“What are your plans going forward?”
She casually replied, “Recover from my injuries, of course. Once I’m better, I need to work—I have a lot to do. If you need my help or want to borrow my blade, you can come find me.”
Yan Tuo paused for a moment, then smiled and said, “Alright.”
This answer was actually within his expectations: from the beginning, she had appeared as an outsider, repeatedly emphasizing that she was just an “ordinary person,” “not involved in this matter.”
She had been injured by the Di Xiao, but of the two who hurt her, one died by her hand, and the other was trapped. That revenge was settled.
As she lay there injured, she was happiest when she saw the professional sculpture books he brought.
When ancient people faced danger, they often spoke of “risking life and property.” She truly had both life and property, and without strong motivation, wouldn’t put herself in harm’s way.
This night was precious; that feeling of companionship had come, briefly.
He cleared his throat. “Where were we?”
***
With a basic understanding established, everything that followed became clearer.
First, regarding the “supplements,” the “blood sacs” frequently mentioned by Lin Xiru’s group seemed to refer to the supplements.
“Born of blood sacs, nourished by blood sacs”—blood sacs were important.
After Dog Tooth ate that woman from Xingba Village, he was accused of eating impure food and polluting his blood, even facing extreme punishment—polluting blood seemed to imply “corrupting bloodlines.”
And Li Yueying’s poor health, according to Chen Fu, was because “the blood sac wasn’t chosen well.” The quality of blood sacs could affect Di Xiao’s constitution, and Li Yueying’s condition must have been particularly bad, because before Dog Tooth died, he had shouted, “You’re next, we’re all sacrifices.”
Second was the death penalty ritual.
The discovery that mixed mucus plus innate fire could kill Di Xiao was new—even Nie Jiuluo hadn’t heard of it.
She speculated that the mucus, including the short spikes under the tongue, probably didn’t appear normally. Di Xiao would “show their tongues” only when extremely angry and murderous, triggering this physiological change that helped them subdue enemies.
The mucus likely had some toxicity and corrosiveness, because although “humanized” Di Xiao no longer had convenient fangs for tearing and chewing, Dog Tooth could consume that woman from Xingba Village in just a couple of nights, leaving no trace of flesh, blood, or bones—likely due to the spiked tongue and mucus.
Third was the “Black and White Rapids” that Feng Mi had mentioned twice.
Nie Jiuluo knew of this place but had never been there. She could only explain it roughly to Yan Tuo.
According to her, Black and White Rapids was an area inside the Golden Gate, underground. The Chan Tou Jun had a tradition of “not entering Black and White Rapids.” When Jiang Baichuan’s group walked the Green Soil, they only reached the edge of Black and White Rapids at their closest.
When Feng Mi spoke of Black and White Rapids, she almost seemed homesick, so Yan Tuo was very interested in this place. Instinctively, he felt Black and White Rapids was where Di Xiao’s lair was located.
So he asked a few more questions: “For not entering Black and White Rapids, are there boundary markers? Otherwise, it’s all dark underground—what if you accidentally walk too far?”
Nie Jiuluo said, “Yes, there are.”
“Uncle Jiang said there are terracotta warriors at the edge of Black and White Rapids. Of course, they’re mostly human figures, no horses—it’s underground, and horses couldn’t run anyway. He’s been to the Terracotta Warriors in Lintong, Shaanxi, and said the ones at Black and White Rapids are just as impressive in scale.”
There weren’t just warrior figures, but many sculptures too.
Back then, the ancient South Ba forest could even cast a giant golden figure into a gate, showing there were many craftsmen. During the Qin Dynasty, making terracotta figures was very popular, so it wasn’t surprising that craftsmen would use local soil to make and fire figures.
Jiang Baichuan told her that the human figures there were incredibly lifelike, and the sculptures were very distinctive. The craftsmanship of ancient artisans was no less impressive than modern techniques.
It made Nie Jiuluo itch to see it, and she had even thought about finding an opportunity to visit.
But more often, she would think of her mother, Pei Ke.
Her mother was dragged into Black and White Rapids while being torn at by Di Xiao. Who knows how many terracotta figures were knocked over, and how many clay sculptures were stained with blood along that path?
But why did they “never enter Black and White Rapids”? What would happen if they went in?
…
Nie Jiuluo was lost in thought when she heard Yan Tuo say something that seemed to mention “Jiang Baichuan.”
She came back to herself: “What did you just say?”
“I couldn’t save Jiang Baichuan, but I did see him. He asked me to pass on some messages.”
Uncle Jiang had messages to send out?
Nie Jiuluo’s heart tightened. “What did he say?”
“He said he’s been interrogated several times, and from the questions, he has a rough idea. Their group is being punished because of Grasshopper. Next, Lin Xiru will probably contact you all, using them as hostages for an exchange. He wanted me to tell you: do not make the exchange.”