Fifteen days had passed since Yan Tuo’s imprisonment when Lin Xirou appeared.
By then, Xiong Hei hadn’t shown up for five or six days. Feng Mi still came by as her duties required, but something different had crept into her demeanor. When speaking with him, she remained extremely vigilant, her body suddenly tensing up like a wolf with pricked ears at any sound from outside the door.
Yan Tuo suspected that Xing Shen had already made his move, but he dared not ask, not even steering the conversation in that direction.
He was supposed to know nothing at all.
…
That day, as Feng Mi was talking to him through the iron bars, she suddenly fixed her gaze on his face: “Yan Tuo, your beard has grown out.”
Yan Tuo laughed self-mockingly: “You just noticed? Nobody even offered me a razor. I asked those guys, but none of them would help.”
Feng Mi giggled: “Who would dare lend you a blade? Don’t worry, I’ll help you shave.”
She unlocked the door and led him to a chair in the small reception area. Without shaving cream, she used soap lather instead, then took out her pocket knife. Bending down, she carefully began shaving him, one stroke at a time.
The two guards on duty, finding the pocket knife impractical and the situation novel, came closer to watch. They kept pointing and advising Feng Mi to be gentler, warning that she might cut him if she went any lower.
For a moment, Yan Tuo considered grabbing the knife.
But he quickly abandoned the thought: he had never witnessed Feng Mi’s fighting skills. Though she complained about being tired and couldn’t outrun him, it didn’t mean she couldn’t fight. This was why he had suggested Xing Shen use sneak attacks and electric shock devices when taking action—forceful kidnapping would be too costly with a high chance of failure. This wasn’t a martial arts competition; why bother with honor?
Besides, the pocket knife was too small. Even if he could subdue Feng Mi, what about the two guards? And the other two who had finished their shift and were sleeping next door? Moreover, with his handcuffs on, he couldn’t fight effectively.
So he remained still.
After finishing, Feng Mi examined him with satisfaction from different angles, then asked the two guards: “Do you have a small mirror? Let him see how it looks.”
One of them mumbled: “We’re men, who carry that sort of thing?”
The other was quicker-witted: “Just use the phone camera, selfie mode works the same way.”
Just then, footsteps approached from outside, followed by the sound of keys turning, and then the door opened.
Lin Xirou and Xiong Hei stood in the doorway.
Lin Xirou’s face was pale, her eyes weary. She had grown much thinner since he’d last seen her.
She walked in and said: “Everyone who’s not involved, get out.”
Xiong Hei immediately started driving people away: “You two, get those other two, and get lost, far away.”
The four guards—two alert and two half-awake—quickly left, leaving only Lin Xirou, Xiong Hei, Feng Mi, and Yan Tuo sitting in the chair.
Yan Tuo sensed something was wrong. Last time, though Lin Xirou had turned hostile, at least Xiong Hei had remained cordial—this time, even Xiong Hei’s eyes had turned cold.
He smiled nervously: “Aunt Lin.”
Lin Xirou smiled too, but her expression suddenly changed as she raised her hand and slapped him across the face.
The blow was particularly heavy—the first time in Yan Tuo’s life he’d experienced Lin Xirou’s strength. His head felt dull from the impact, and the already unstable chair couldn’t withstand it—he crashed to the ground, chair and all, his vision going dark.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Lin Xirou’s high heels. The sides were adorned with diamond-studded tassels that must have looked beautiful in the sunlight, radiating brilliance as if her ankles were ringed with shimmering daylight.
Feng Mi froze for a moment, confused, but quickly stepped back to avoid getting in the way.
Lin Xirou said: “Get him up.”
Xiong Hei stepped forward and yanked both Yan Tuo and the chair upright. After the fall, the chair was even more unstable, wobbling precariously when sat upon.
Yan Tuo looked up: “Aunt Lin, you—”
Another blow landed on his face, this time more like a fist than a slap.
He fell again, crashing to the ground as blood began flowing from his nose, running warm over his philtrum and down to the corner of his mouth.
Lin Xirou crouched before him, her voice soft, but with his ears ringing from the blows, each word fell like raindrops.
“Lin Ling is gone, Yan Tuo. Not just Lin Ling, but several of my companions have vanished too. Do you know anything about this?”
Yan Tuo felt a surge of satisfaction.
Xing Shen had done it—having enough manpower made a difference.
He forced a smile: “Aunt Lin, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lin Xirou reached out, grabbed his hair, and yanked his head up, each word spitting through clenched teeth: “I said, Lin Ling is gone, and several of my companions, just like Han Guan and Chen Fu, have disappeared. Do you know about this?”
With blood flowing into his mouth, bringing a salty tang, Yan Tuo steadied himself: “I don’t know, I’ve been here the whole time…”
Before he could finish, Lin Xirou slammed his head against the ground. Yan Tuo felt as if his brain had shifted, countless strange tastes rising in his throat, making him nauseous.
Unable to open his eyes from the pain, breathing heavily, he spoke in fragments: “Aunt Lin, I’ve been… here for many days… I don’t know what’s happening outside.”
Lin Xirou laughed coldly: “Is that so? Then why has Lin Ling disappeared?”
Yan Tuo struggled to speak: “That day… when I was brought here, wasn’t she at home? If she… disappeared later, why ask me?”
Since Lin Ling had already escaped, he might as well blame everything on her—there would be no one to contradict his story anyway.
Lin Xirou gave an odd laugh: “Are you suggesting Lin Ling disappeared on her own?”
Yan Tuo forced his eyes open, though his vision remained blurry, making Lin Xirou’s face look utterly unfamiliar. He said: “I don’t know, I don’t… pay attention to her. She’s always so quiet, I don’t know what she does normally. But, hasn’t she… run away before? Maybe if you look again, you’ll… find her.”
Find her?
Lin Xirou found it almost laughably absurd. She said: “Yes, I don’t pay much attention to her either. She’s like a decoration—who would care what a decoration thinks or does? So you’re saying she planned this herself and wanted to leave me, right? Fine, let’s set aside Lin Ling for now. What about my companions? Why did they suddenly disappear?”
Yan Tuo smiled bitterly: “Aunt Lin, as for your companions… I only saw Han Guan and Chen Fu in photos, and Yang Zheng and the others at the farm. Haven’t seen anyone since.”
Lin Xirou: “It’s not them.”
Yan Tuo laughed miserably: “If it’s not them, how can you blame me for the disappearance of people I’ve never even met?”
Feng Mi also found this conversation extremely bizarre and wanted to say something, but Xiong Hei gave her a look.
That look told her not to interfere.
Feng Mi swallowed her words. She knew Lin Xirou wouldn’t do this without reason.
There must be a cause.
Lin Xirou nodded: “You’re right, very reasonable. Just like last time, every word makes perfect sense.”
She reached out to Xiong Hei: “Tissue.”
Xiong Hei didn’t habitually carry tissues and futilely patted his pockets, but Feng Mi reacted quickly, bending down to pull a tissue from the package on the floor and handing it to Lin Xirou.
Lin Xirou took the tissue and slowly wiped the blood from Yan Tuo’s face.
Her voice softened: “So, Aunt Lin was impulsive and wrongly hit you, is that right?”
Something about her tone wasn’t right, and Yan Tuo suddenly felt chilled to the bone: “Aunt Lin…”
Lin Xirou burst out laughing, her fingers crushing the tissue in her palm: “Yan Tuo, you’ve deceived me so thoroughly. But I truly admire you—you won’t believe it until you see the coffin, and won’t say a word until the very end. As long as I don’t show evidence, you’ll insist it has nothing to do with you, right?”
Yan Tuo began coughing, his hand slowly moving toward his inner sleeve.
That’s right, without evidence, why should he confess? If he held out, he might still survive.
Lin Xirou said: “Ban Ya contacted me about exchanging hostages. Said they have my people, including Chen Fu, those who recently disappeared, and Lin Ling. They want to trade for Jiang Baichuan and the others, for Old Dao, and for you.”
The tension Yan Tuo had been holding suddenly released, and he closed his eyes.
Lin Xirou’s voice grew increasingly gentle: “I was truly surprised they wanted to exchange you too. Yan Tuo, when did you make such good friends? Do you want to know how I responded to them?”
She lowered her head, giggling: “I told them that while Jiang Baichuan, Old Dao, and the others are indeed in my custody and still breathing, as for Yan Tuo, I don’t know where he went—I’m looking for him too.”
Yan Tuo’s heart clenched, and he looked up at her.
Lin Xirou smiled: “I learned it from you. You’ve disappeared, forever disappeared. Your friends have no evidence anyway—who can prove your disappearance has anything to do with me?”
She gently pressed her hand to her chest: “I don’t know what happened. My godson has vanished forever, and I’m heartbroken too.”
Yan Tuo clenched his teeth, suddenly let out a roar, and with all his strength, abruptly raised his hand.
Xiong Hei shouted: “Sister Lin, watch out!”
Everything happened too quickly. Without time to think, Xiong Hei grabbed Lin Xirou’s collar and hair, dragging her backward while kicking at Yan Tuo.
Lin Xirou was pulled down to the ground, her throat so constricted she couldn’t breathe.
Though they were a step late, it was still fortunate: a needle had pierced directly under her eyelid, half its length embedded in the flesh, quivering as it protruded.
That was close—the needle had nearly gone into her eye. Though it would eventually heal, who wants to go blind for no reason?
Lin Xirou looked at the needle stuck in her face, trembling with rage.
Yan Tuo had been kicked into the wall and rolled onto the ground.
Strangely though, his mind was calm, and he lay peacefully, staring at the moldy, water-stained ceiling.
What’s done is done, and people must accept defeat. He hadn’t failed too badly, had he? At least Lin Ling had escaped, and Xu Annie might be safe now too. Lin Xirou’s existence in this world was built upon countless bones—perhaps his whole family, his father, mother, Xin Xin, and himself had all drawn the bone card in life.
He had made a decent skeleton, dancing quite well for a time.
Yan Tuo smiled and said: “Just kill me.”
***
The room fell deathly silent.
Lin Xirou pulled out the needle, examined it thoughtfully, and instead of throwing it away, calmly pinned it to her coat collar.
She would have the finest craftsman turn this needle into a brooch, adorned with pearls and diamonds, to wear at all times.
To remind herself: that those not of our kind must harbor different hearts.
She said: “Kill you? Give you a quick death by blade or bullet? Wouldn’t that be too easy? Then you wouldn’t see how I rise again, how I start over, how I crush your good friends one by one. How lonely would it be if you couldn’t share in my joy?”
Finally, she looked at Xiong Hei: “Open the door.”
Xiong Hei was startled: “Huh, open the door?”
Lin Xirou said coldly: “There’s no one in the hallway, what are you afraid of?”
Xiong Hei hesitated, then opened the main door.
Lin Xirou walked to Yan Tuo’s side, standing over him, and kicked his forehead: “Look, raise your head, look outside.”
Yan Tuo lifted his head.
So it was daytime—he had thought it was night.
The corridor outside was long and narrow with dim light, but at the far end of the exit was a hazy white glow, not intense but the cold light common in winter, a frigid white.
Lin Xirou said: “Treasure each glimpse, look as much as you can. This is the last time in your life you’ll ever see the light of the human world.”