Yan Tuo bent down. Without thinking too much, he just wanted to kiss her. Just as he was about to touch her lips, he suddenly stopped—perhaps due to a memory bias, but he felt as if this scene had happened before, and that she would turn her face away the next second.
Nie Jiuluo’s body stiffened slightly, almost able to feel Yan Tuo’s gentle breath, but she didn’t move—sometimes, she would subtly express her attitude, like letting him caress her temples, or actively touching his cheeks.
Yan Tuo kissed her.
Nie Jiuluo hadn’t thought much of it at first—it was just a kiss, a form of intimacy. It probably wasn’t either of their first kiss. As mature adults, not inexperienced teenagers, who would lose composure over a mere kiss?
But unexpectedly, the moment their lips met, her whole body seemed to ignite. Heat coursed through her entire being, from her body to her fingertips, causing uncontrollable trembling. She couldn’t sit steady and gradually leaned backward. Her hand, originally resting on the armrest, became weak and unstable, slipping away to who knows where.
She didn’t fall completely—the chair’s backrest caught her. Yan Tuo leaned in, one hand reaching behind her, caressing her back while drawing her body toward his own, simultaneously deepening the kiss.
If their previous intimacy had been restrained tenderness, this time there was an element of abandon and transgression. Nie Jiuluo felt a bit flustered, not from fear, but because she found herself offering no resistance, and even, secretly, feeling anticipation.
Emotionally, she had already opened herself to Yan Tuo, otherwise she wouldn’t have accepted his embraces and kisses. However, she hadn’t expected her body to move ahead of her emotions, accepting him completely almost instantly.
In her daze, she thought: Isn’t this moving a bit too fast? Should slow down… if this continues, there’ll be no stopping…
But this thought merely flashed through her mind, as she could neither make a sound nor find the strength to resist.
The phone on the workbench rang.
The combination of ringtone and vibration against the desktop surface was particularly jarring. Neither of them paid attention, deliberately ignoring the noise, hoping it would naturally cease.
However, after one round, another followed, then another, suggesting it might be urgent.
Nie Jiuluo’s hand trembled slightly as she slowly felt her way to the desktop, unclear whether she meant to answer or silence it. Just as she touched the phone, Yan Tuo’s hand followed, grabbing the phone and tossing it away.
It probably landed on the nearby sofa, as the sound immediately became much more muffled, almost negligible.
Nie Jiuluo was startled for a moment, but quickly forgot about it, falling back into their passionate embrace.
…
Sometime later, Sister Lu’s voice called from downstairs: “Mr. Yan, are you upstairs? I’ve left your meal on the table. Remember to eat soon before it gets cold.”
This nearby human voice had far more impact than the phone ring—both of them jolted as if suddenly returning to reality.
Outside the window, dusk was falling, and it was nearly dark.
Yan Tuo was breathing heavily as he slowly released her.
Nie Jiuluo felt as if she had finally escaped from the blazing heat. Her limbs were weak as she leaned against the chair back, motionless, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. How could she kiss someone for so long? How much time had passed?
Time seemed to have been stolen—she had no recollection. More terrifying was that it was just a kiss, yet she felt as if she had done everything with Yan Tuo, instantly entering a state of sage-like clarity, feeling utterly exhausted and empty inside.
She swallowed slightly, her mouth dry and numb, even slightly spicy.
Yan Tuo was also somewhat dazed. Initially, he had only wanted to kiss her gently, but lost control somewhere—he couldn’t even remember at which point.
Feeling somewhat regretful, he paused before asking softly, “Did I frighten you?”
The dusk was falling quickly; in just these few moments, the room had darkened another shade. Nie Jiuluo burst out laughing: “I’m not that easily frightened.”
She stood up, supporting herself against the workbench, and said quietly, “Yan Tuo, hold me.”
Yan Tuo stepped forward and embraced her gently.
Perhaps because the passionate kiss had consumed their energy, this embrace was truly just a light one, without any sensual implications, yet it held an ineffable intimacy. Yan Tuo tenderly caressed her hair, from crown to nape, saying softly, “I’ll be more careful next time.”
Nie Jiuluo smiled at such an absurd statement—be more careful next time. Careful about what? The duration? Or the intensity?
She nestled against his chest, not wanting to speak, unable to clearly define the feeling in her heart—it was probably love.
Her fingers climbed like playing hopscotch, slowly trailing up his slightly sweaty abs. When they reached his chest, Yan Tuo caught her hand in his.
The phone rang again, this time not continuously but a single alert—probably a message.
Nie Jiuluo freed herself from Yan Tuo’s embrace and looked toward the sofa.
She remembered now—the phone had been ringing incessantly earlier; someone must have had something urgent.
…
Nine missed calls, all from Xing Shen.
The last was a message.
I couldn’t reach you by phone. Check your email, Lin Xirong has responded, and I’ve sent you the voice message.
Seeing the name “Lin Xirong,” Nie Jiuluo was genuinely stunned. During the recent period, she had completely forgotten about this person.
She directly logged into her mobile email and opened the latest message, which contained several attachments, all audio files, already numbered in sequence.
Before playing the first one, she glanced at Yan Tuo.
Yan Tuo nodded to her, indicating: Ready.
Nie Jiuluo pressed play.
At first, there was no voice, only breathing sounds, very light, very soft, then Lin Xirong laughed.
Nie Jiuluo felt an instant chill down her spine. She had never met Lin Xirong or heard her voice, but perhaps because she had heard so much about her, she was prejudiced—even the breathing and laughter seemed cold.
Lin Xirong’s voice was very calm, showing no emotional fluctuation: “Very impressive, even finding the mine shaft. I was careless and underestimated you all. I originally thought I was dealing with mere garbage, didn’t expect to find some quality pieces among the trash.”
“It’s time to properly discuss the exchange. The exchanges haven’t been successful, but that’s not my fault—you never had any sincere intention to exchange. The Cantou Army has always belonged to the Di Xiao, how could they willingly let Di Xiao go free, right? I knew you weren’t sincere, just wanting to cause trouble under the pretense of an exchange, so I stopped it several times.”
“To attack the mine shaft—things have come to this point, let’s stop playing useless games. Let’s speak plainly: set a place, bring your people and hostages, and let’s have it out. After all, we both know this battle is inevitable, just a matter of time.”
The first segment ended there.
Set a place and have it out?
Nie Jiuluo thought it was absurd—in a confrontation, who could match them? Jiang Baichuan’s case was a precedent—they had guns and manpower, and the difference in strength was obvious.
Yan Tuo gently touched her arm: “Listen to it all first.”
The second segment began.
Lin Xirong: “As for the time, let’s set it ten days from now. I’ve already chosen the place—one I’m familiar with, and you are too. Neither side will be at a disadvantage. I think you’ve already guessed where?”
She paused as if leaving time for guessing: “It will be at the place where you kidnapped my son years ago, at the edge of Heibai Valley. I hear it’s called Mazha now. Such a bestial name, truly raising them like beasts.”
“Isn’t this place well-chosen? My territory, also your territory—isn’t it fair? You’re free not to come, but let me tell you what I plan to do if you don’t.”
“First, keeping your people is pointless now. I’ll use them all as feed. Of course, I’ll save the bones for you, all in a pile, with name tags on the finger bones, convenient for you to collect when you have time to visit Qingran.”
“Second, I’ll disappear completely, making it impossible for you to find me. Giving up the Yan family business pains me, but it’s fine—building a business from nothing to strength is just a matter of time. I live longer than you have more time, and with the experience from the first time, the second will be faster. By then, my companions will be endless. What does it matter if you kidnapped five or six? I’ll replenish them several times over.”
“But you’ll need to be careful—every one of you is on my blacklist. The world is only so big; no matter where you hide, finding people isn’t difficult. Water drops pierce stone; searching year after year, I’ll eventually find you. Whether it takes a few years, or twenty or thirty years, by then, your families, your descendants, will all be targets. You can’t prevent it—among so many people around you, how can you tell who’s coming for you?”
At this point, she burst into laughter: “Impossible to guard against, isn’t it? So I advise you to keep the appointment—better a quick death than a slow torture. Otherwise, living in constant fear day after day, that’s suffering too.”
The second segment ended.
Yan Tuo didn’t urge her to continue listening. He let out a long sigh and said with a bitter smile: “This woman truly is a lingering ghost.”
This threat was well-placed. After Jiang Baichuan’s capture, the commonly used contact list was exposed, leading to a group of people who were all put on the list. Even if they could temporarily avoid danger, they wouldn’t know peace in the future.
Not just this group—if he wasn’t mistaken, he and Lin Ling were also on the blacklist.
Yan Tuo was truly grateful for Nie Jiuluo: though she had been involved throughout, she had somehow remained invisible, not catching Lin Xirong’s attention—that was a blessing.
Nie Jiuluo remained silent and played the third segment.
The first sentence of this segment chilled her to the bone: “This message, please pass it on to Yan Tuo—I have something to say to this godson.”
Yan Tuo swallowed slightly and listened quietly.
“Little Tuo, all these years of raising you have been wasted. Hasn’t Aunt Lin treated you well? You’re just like your mother, both ungrateful wolves. She killed me once, I gave her a chance, but she didn’t cherish it and came back for a second time. I raised you, yet instead of being grateful, you turn against me—truly your mother’s child.”
“You escaped from the mine shaft—feeling pleased, feeling liberated? But Aunt Lin knows you—running is futile, with just a wave of my hand, you’ll come back.”
“For this meeting, Aunt Lin hopes you’ll come too. Haven’t you always wanted to meet Yan Xin? I’ll give you this chance for siblings to reunite—it’s been… about twenty years since you last met, right? The reunion will surely be touching.”