During the previous two food deliveries, Yan Tuo had been so hungry he was barely conscious. Someone had to prod him awake with a stick, and all he could see were blurry shadows and flickering lights, never clear enough to identify who brought the food.
This time, he was surprisingly lucid when someone entered.
It was Feng Mi.
Her dreadlocks were gathered into a thick ponytail. She wore a dove-gray cashmere tracksuit with an ivory-white down vest and running shoes.
Upon seeing Feng Mi, Yan Tuo felt an inexplicable sense of relief. Somehow, he felt that if she was the one delivering food, his days might not be quite so miserable.
Feng Mi carried a bag in one hand and a flashlight in the other. When the light fell on Yan Tuo, she paused for a long while before saying with surprise, “Yan Tuo? How did you end up like this?”
So she hadn’t been the one who came the previous times.
And what did she mean by ‘like this’? Well, it didn’t matter—he must look filthy, stinking, and utterly wretched.
Yan Tuo stared at the bag in her hand. “More steamed buns?”
Feng Mi gave a light chuckle and placed the bag by the bars.
Yan Tuo desperately wanted to lunge forward and grab the bag, but he managed to restrain himself.
He released his grip on the blanket and walked over to the bars as dignifiedly as possible, crouching down to reach through and open the bag.
Steamed buns and a water container.
He laughed self-mockingly. “The same standard fare, couldn’t you mix it up a bit…”
He suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
In the corner of the bag rolled several bright yellow small tangerines.
Tangerines? Actual fruit?
Yan Tuo was almost delirious with joy. He picked one up and peeled off a section, bringing it to his nose to smell.
The fragrance was incredible—a sweet undertone beneath the tartness. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was lying among countless tangerine trees.
He sat down on the ground. Happiness was all about contrast—even if Feng Mi had only brought him tangerine peels instead of actual tangerines, he would have been content.
This was the scent of the outside world, the scent of sunlight.
Feng Mi sighed. “Yan Tuo, didn’t you bring this upon yourself?”
Yan Tuo spoke softly, “With a bit more luck, I would have made it through.”
Feng Mi almost laughed out loud. “Yan Tuo, did you think you could fool everyone? Your story about the diary didn’t even convince me. Are you underestimating Aunt Lin that much?”
Was that so?
Yan Tuo didn’t care much anymore—he was already imprisoned anyway. “Where did I slip up?”
“The logic was sound, but emotionally, it wasn’t convincing. I read that diary later, and even I, an outsider, shed tears by the end. As her son, how could you remain completely unmoved?”
She sneered. “Only someone as thick-headed as Xiong Hei would have let that slide. Think about it—if the diary story was really convincing, why are you still locked up? When Aunt Lin first asked me to watch you, I asked if she suspected you. Do you know what she said?”
Yan Tuo remained calm. “What did she say?”
“She said if you suspect someone and want to eliminate those doubts, the best solution is to kill them for peace of mind. If you can’t bring yourself to kill them, then lock them up before they can betray you. That way, they’ll never betray you and remain the obedient child—she was convinced you had betrayed her, she just didn’t expect things to progress even after locking you up.”
Yan Tuo smiled. “That’s the advantage of having allies.”
Feng Mi snorted coldly. “What good did that do? You all planned this together, yet you’re the only one suffering. Where are they now? Why aren’t they helping you?”
Yan Tuo remained silent, savoring a segment of tangerine in his mouth, luxuriating in the taste. After a while, he looked up at her. “What’s the date?”
Feng Mi said, “Just over ten days until the New Year.”
Yan Tuo felt disoriented.
It had happened so quickly. When he lost his freedom, there were still several days until the year’s end, and now, New Year was approaching.
He asked, “Will I get to eat dumplings for New Year?”
Feng Mi looked at him for a while, feeling both amused and saddened. “You’re still thinking about dumplings? What’s the point?”
Yan Tuo said, “Of course, there’s a point—it’s New Year after all.”
He pointed at the tangerines in the bag. “This time, I’ll resist and save one tangerine for New Year. If I have dumplings and a tangerine that day, then this year won’t have been too bad.”
Suddenly remembering something, his body tensed. “Do you know about what’s down here?”
Feng Mi didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
Yan Tuo said, “Just before you came, there was something here, bumping and scratching, with glowing green eyes.”
Feng Mi made a sound of recognition. “Oh, that. Number 019, we’ve already named it—Youpeng.”
Number 019?
Yan Tuo’s heart tightened: Gou Ya must have been 018, and after being destroyed, this was… another replacement?
“Does it have a blood sac?”
Feng Mi looked down at him with an intriguing expression. “Yes, we’re still selecting. After all, we lost several companions at once and need replacements urgently.”
Yan Tuo’s gaze turned cold.
How foolish of him to think seeing Feng Mi was a good thing. No, they would always be what they were.
“Where is this place?”
Feng Mi laughed. “Aunt Lin was right about you. Even in this state, you’re still trying to gather information?”
She glanced around the cave. “Never mind where this is. Your friends won’t find it anyway.”
Yan Tuo changed the subject. “Lin… Lin Xirou said you were originally human. Upon entering Heibai Valley, you transform into human demons—’human demons’ must be like those grasshoppers or that Number 019, right? Then you return to human form, but the grasshoppers don’t. I’ve been thinking, that the Bandaged Army couldn’t have prepared blood sacs for grasshoppers. The reason they can’t recover must be the lack of blood sacs—how exactly are the blood sacs used?”
Feng Mi countered, “What do you think? You’re so clever and have been investigating for years. What’s your theory?”
Yan Tuo smiled slightly. “A long time ago, I snuck into the second underground level of the farm and witnessed something. I didn’t understand it then, but thinking back now, I can piece things together.”
“At that time, Xiong Hei was dealing with Wu Xingbang’s blood sac—Xu Annie’s father. The man kept begging for mercy while Xiong Hei beat him with a club. Lin Xirou stood by, reminding him to ‘be careful, don’t kill him, leave him breathing.'”
“Also during that time, I discovered several mini plastic greenhouses on the farm. In one of them, there was a middle-aged woman who raised her head when startled. Her back was covered in countless sticky threads extending into the soil.”
“You have a term called ‘root separation.’ Anyone who’s studied biology knows plants rely on roots for nutrients. I’m wondering if blood sacs can be considered ‘mass roots,’ and beneath the soil where that woman in the greenhouse lay, there must have been buried people—the blood sacs. Those countless sticky threads were like countless mouths, devouring the blood sacs, nourishing the earth demons.”
“The people were buried alive. They couldn’t be killed because death would eliminate their vitality. That’s why they needed to ‘leave them breathing,’ to stay ‘connected’ with the earth demon above. One constantly outputting, depleting, withering, while the other continuously absorbing, growing, regenerating.”
Feng Mi’s face gradually froze. She tried to smile to cover it up but couldn’t. “Yan Tuo, people should maintain some ignorance. The truth isn’t pretty—why insist on tearing away that veil of shame? How awkward. How can we remain friends now?”
Yan Tuo said, “Our relationship was always awkward. You thought we could be friends, but we never could be.”
Feng Mi remained silent for a long time before finally giving a bitter laugh. “Fine, this was predestined from the beginning. In ancient times, our ancestors were enemies, and now in our generation, we’re still enemies.”
Ancient times?
How did the conversation suddenly turn to ancient times?
Yan Tuo blurted out, “What ancient times? What ancestors?”
Feng Mi didn’t answer. She backed away, the beam of her flashlight gradually receding. “Yan Tuo, if we ever face each other in confrontation, let’s make a promise for old times’ sake—whether you kill me or I kill you, let’s make it quick. Don’t let the other suffer too much.”
When Nie Jiuluo returned from rehabilitation, Sister Lu had just opened the main gate for her and immediately started exclaiming, “See? I told you drinking more soup was right. You’re all better now!”
Better? Nie Jiuluo felt both amused and exasperated. “They’ve just removed the external fixation. The doctor says I need to start doing some light strength training. I can’t stay immobile forever—not only could it cause venous thrombosis, but my arms would look uneven, one thick and one thin.”
As she walked into the courtyard, Sister Lu closed the gate behind her. “Now we’ll start. I’m going to give you comprehensive nutrition. The internet says drinking bone soup in the early stages of fracture promotes callus growth, but in the later stages, you need a balanced diet.”
Since her injury, Sister Lu’s bone soup theories have become increasingly sophisticated. Nie Jiuluo had heard them so many times she could recite them by heart. Just as she was about to make a perfunctory response, her gaze fell on the white plum tree in the corner of the courtyard.
This plum tree had bloomed spectacularly for a while, and now, like her entering the middle-late stages of bone healing, it too had entered its late flowering period. There were fewer new flower buds, and occasionally when passing by, she would see a layer of fallen plum petals beneath the tree.
Nie Jiuluo couldn’t help but shiver.
It had been so long, yet still no news of Yan Tuo. The doctor had said that the saying “a hundred days to heal tendons and bones” didn’t mean complete recovery in a hundred days: for the bone marrow cavity to reconnect and return to normal would take at least a year or two.
A year or two—would she still not have found Yan Tuo by then?
Her earlier joy at having the external fixation removed instantly froze. She wordlessly went upstairs and sat at her workbench.
The custom courtyard model was taking shape nicely. The buildings, windows, and figures were all in place, though still unpainted, waiting for the final color application.
These past few days, she had been working on the white plum tree. The usual method would be to make the trunk and branches, then dot white powder for the flowers, but she stubbornly wanted to give herself more work, deciding that the main plum blossoms had to be sculpted.
It was an incredibly delicate task. The clay had to be rolled as thin as paper, using the finest brush for lines and the smallest sculpting knife for shapes. Sometimes she even needed a magnifying glass—often when she raised her head after working for long periods, her neck would be stiff as iron.
If she truly couldn’t find Yan Tuo, at least doing something related to him was better than nothing.
Nie Jiuluo picked up the small figure holding the plum blossom and looked at it. Its smile was so cheerful. Before, just looking at it would make her smile, but not anymore. The more she looked at it, the more dejected she felt.
Footsteps came from the stairs. Nie Jiuluo put down the figure, paused, then reached out to turn it to face another direction.
It was Sister Lu bringing her soup.
This time it was fish soup, milky white and very fragrant.
Nie Jiuluo lowered her head and lifted a spoonful to her mouth.
Sister Lu stood beside her, looking at her and then at the small figure on the table. Lately, Nie Jiuluo had been in low spirits. People online always talked about “low pressure,” and it was true—standing next to her felt oppressive.
Sister Lu couldn’t help but ask, “Did you and that Yan Tuo break up?”
Nie Jiuluo almost choked on her soup. She dropped her spoon into the bowl and looked up at Sister Lu. “Yan Tuo and I were never together. How could we break up?”
Sister Lu pointed at the plum blossom figure. “Then why do you keep his figure on your desk every day?”
Nie Jiuluo protested, pointing to the courtyard model where there was a small figure of Sister Lu sitting on a stool sorting green onions. “I keep your figure on my desk every day too. Does that mean I’m in love with you?”
Sister Lu laughed. “Bringing me into this—are you feeling guilty? Having a young man’s figure is different from having an old woman’s figure, isn’t it?”
Nie Jiuluo said, “I just…”
She suddenly didn’t want to explain anymore and said softly, “I have feelings for him.”
Sister Lu hit the nail on the head. “Now that’s more like it! Don’t all relationships between men and women start with feelings? First comes attraction, then a meal together, holding hands the next day, and you’re dating. This Yan Tuo isn’t right though—why hasn’t he asked you out?”
Nie Jiuluo was silent for a moment before saying, “He’s busy.”
She wished he would ask her out too, anytime would be fine.
Seeing this scenario, Sister Lu felt it was hopeless. Everyone had been young once—the story of unrequited love was as old as time. You could be smart, beautiful, perfect in a hundred ways, but that didn’t guarantee winning someone’s heart.
Being busy was just an excuse.
It was hopeless. She regretted speaking so hastily and making the girl sad.
Sister Lu pretended she had work to do in the kitchen and went downstairs, shaking her head and sighing.
Nie Jiuluo sat for a while, no longer interested in the soup. She pushed away the bowl and pinched off a piece of clay from her workbench, kneading it slowly in her palm—this amount of force, her arm seemed able to handle it.
Just as she was testing her strength, her phone rang.
Nie Jiuluo picked it up and saw an unfamiliar number. She casually pressed answer. “Hello?”
A timid voice came from the other end: “Is this Miss Nie Jiuluo? I’m… Lin Ling.”
Lin Ling?
Nie Jiuluo stopped what she was doing and unconsciously sat up straighter.
She knew about Lin Ling’s situation. Earlier, Xing Shen had called to tell her that Lin Ling wanted to stay with Liu Changxi—this was Lin Ling’s own decision, and Nie Jiuluo didn’t want to interfere, only suggesting they shouldn’t rush to send her there, that they should observe Liu Changxi’s situation first to ensure it was safe.
Counting the days, she must have moved there by now.
Sure enough, Lin Ling said carefully, “I’m staying at Uncle Changxi’s now. He’s very nice. Talking with him, I just learned that you used to stay here too.”
Nie Jiuluo made a sound of acknowledgment.
Lin Ling felt awkward. She didn’t know how to continue. She had known Nie Jiuluo’s name for a long time, back when she truly believed she was just a casual fling for Yan Tuo.
According to Uncle Changxi, when Nie Jiuluo was recovering here, Yan Tuo had even stayed overnight to keep her company—were they that close? Yan Tuo had kept it very quiet, not letting slip even a hint.
Lin Ling felt quite dejected, feeling both that she didn’t know Yan Tuo and that she had been excluded from his circle of close friends.
She hesitated for a moment. “Before Yan Tuo disappeared, we were chatting once and somehow got onto the topic of what to do if something happened. He said if anything happened to him, there was someone who could help, but he didn’t say who.”
“Miss Nie, I guess that person must be you.”
On the other end, Nie Jiuluo seemed to give a slight laugh but didn’t speak.
Lin Ling’s eyes immediately welled up with tears, her voice trembling. “Miss Nie, Yan Tuo has been missing for so long… something must… must have happened to him. Please think of something.”
She shakily grabbed a tissue to wipe her tears. “Miss Nie, I’m… useless, I’ve always relied on him. You’re successful in your career, you must have ideas. Please help him.”
Through her tear-blurred eyes, she heard Nie Jiuluo’s voice through the receiver.
“I really want to help him, and I’ve been searching, but there are simply no leads. Lin Xirou and her group vanished like smoke. Xing Shen could avoid surveillance when rescuing you, and she can similarly disappear. After disappearing, they could disguise themselves or switch vehicles—how can we find them? We’ve been trying to lure her out by ‘exchanging people,’ but she’s very shrewd and has canceled several times at the last minute.”
“Perhaps you can help me, Lin Ling. You lived with Lin Xirou for so many years—did you ever hear about any hideouts? Anything you remember could help.”
Hideouts?
Lin Ling’s mind went blank, and she stammered, “No…”