There was no point in asking further questions – Chen Fu’s responses became increasingly sluggish, with even his “hmm”s and “ah”s becoming unintelligible. They were lucky to have gotten answers to those first few questions.
To summarize: Yan Xin was in Heibai Valley, but whether she was alive or where exactly she had gone remained unknown.
Yan Tuo was too anxious to think clearly, his mind throbbing and dulled. Unable to analyze the situation calmly, Nie Jiuluo pondered for a moment before saying, “I don’t think Yan Xin is in Lin Xirou’s custody. It seems more like Lin Xirou simply abandoned her there and never looked back.”
That would explain why they only got a clear answer about Heibai Valley, but nothing about whether she was alive or where she had gone.
Her words made sense to Yan Tuo, but rather than feeling relieved, his heart grew heavier. Yan Xin was only two or three years old when she disappeared. At that age, even being held captive would have meant some form of “care” in a way. But if she was just abandoned…
He had never been to Heibai Valley, but the name alone conjured images of a dark and terrifying place. To think of little Xin being abandoned there all alone – how frightened she must have been.
His eyes suddenly burned as he remembered how tightly she had clutched his clothes at the train station, refusing to let go. She must have been scared then too, with their mother nowhere to be found. Her big brother was her only support, even though he was barely five years old.
His vision blurred as his mind drifted.
“Oh, you…” Nie Jiuluo said softly.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Yan Tuo’s waist, silently leaning into his embrace.
Yan Tuo instinctively hugged her back, holding her tight. There was something incredibly comforting about having someone to hold when you’re feeling down, and Nie Jiuluo was particularly “huggable” – slender yet soft, small enough to encircle with one arm.
Still, Yan Tuo preferred to hold her with both arms. He couldn’t explain why, but it gave him a special sense of solemnity and satisfaction.
Nie Jiuluo looked at Chen Fu, who sat catatonic in the bathtub. “Do you think he might be faking it?”
Being skilled at “deception” herself, she naturally suspected others of the same.
Yan Tuo turned to look at Chen Fu as well. “I doubt it. By the way, what’s this ‘Nüwa Flesh’?”
Nie Jiuluo was equally puzzled. She had heard plenty about Nüwa creating humans and the flesh of Tang Monk, but “Nüwa Flesh” was entirely new to her.
Suddenly, Yan Tuo remembered something. “Did you bring back that ‘Chinese Mythology and Legends’ book I bought last time?”
***
After stuffing a towel in Chen Fu’s mouth to prevent him from shouting if he suddenly came, Yan Tuo locked the door and followed Nie Jiuluo upstairs.
Nie Jiuluo retrieved the book from the shelf and handed it to Yan Tuo. She watched him flip through the pages without peering over his shoulder. There was something both serious and endearing about how he read with furrowed brows, though she suspected he would be disappointed. This wasn’t some extraordinary time – it couldn’t possibly have all the answers.
She figured an internet search might be more helpful, so she took out her phone and started browsing.
As she scrolled through web pages, she heard Yan Tuo sigh. “It’s not here. It only mentions that according to the Classic of Mountains and Seas, after Nüwa died, one of her intestines transformed into ten divine beings. But if there were intestines, there must have been flesh too, right? If intestines could transform into beings, the flesh couldn’t have been far behind.”
Nie Jiuluo had found something interesting: “Look at this – it says after Nüwa died, her flesh became the earth, her bones became mountains, and her hair became vegetation…”
Yan Tuo’s heart skipped a beat. “Her flesh became the earth?”
Nüwa Flesh, Nüwa’s body, earth, the woman half-buried in the soil in the miniature greenhouse on the farm’s second basement level, the sticky threads on her back, the uprooting…
Lost in thought, he mused: “Could Nüwa Flesh be a type of soil? Looking at it purely from a mythological perspective, Nüwa created humans and had the power to create life. Even after her death, her decomposing flesh would have been extraordinary, perhaps retaining some of those properties. It might have merged with the soil beneath her, making that soil different from ordinary earth.”
“So the muddy water that Doggy Tooth was soaking it would be different from regular mud you’d make with soil from the yard. Doggy Tooth was absorbing ‘nutrients,’ while yours would just be… destructive?”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t quite agree: “Well, at least we got some answers.”
Yan Tuo remained silent, following this train of thought. If this premise was correct, it could explain many things.
“If this ‘Nüwa Flesh’ really exists, there can’t be much of it. Maybe that’s why Lin Xirou couldn’t transform Di Xiao into a human on a large scale. In over twenty years, she’s transformed fewer than twenty, with some failures along the way.”
It made sense, and Nie Jiuluo murmured, “Plus, the soil needs fertility. It needs to be ‘nourished.’ After one use, it needs time to recover.”
As she spoke, she sat at the workbench and began sketching. Being a rough draft, the lines came quickly, and she explained to Yan Tuo as she drew: “Look, based on what you saw in the farm’s basement, the transformation of Di Xiao into humans requires several elements. First, the special soil beneath them – the Nüwa Flesh. Second, the roots are buried in the soil – the blood sacs. It’s just like growing plants, slowly cultivating Di Xiao into ‘humans.'”
She paused here: “What else is needed?”
Yan Tuo recalled the miniature greenhouses: “Probably an enclosed space, protected from outside disturbances. And…”
A sudden realization struck him: “They need darkness! Didn’t Xing Shen say that when Lin Xirou and her group were preparing to move You Peng, they brought a coffin-like wooden box? You Peng stayed at the bottom of the mine shaft and never tried to climb up, probably because they fear sunlight. After all, these creatures decay faster in light, like locusts.”
With this, the whole process became clear. Nie Jiuluo symbolically added a tent to her sketch and drew a crossed-out sun.
They both stared at the drawing in silence. These were just theories for now, but because everything connected logically, Nie Jiuluo’s intuition told her they were at least seventy to eighty percent correct.
Just as she was about to put down her pen, Yan Tuo suddenly said, “I just remembered the origin story of the Bandaged Head Army that you told me before.”
“When Emperor Qin sent the Bandaged Head Army to find Di Xiao, it couldn’t have been for wealth – as ruler of a nation, he didn’t need money. If he was seeking immortality, could he have been looking for this Nüwa Flesh?”
Nie Jiuluo laughed: “That’s something you’d have to ask Emperor Qin himself.”
Yan Tuo smiled too, about to say something more when Nie Jiuluo’s phone rang.
It was Xing Shen again. Nie Jiuluo quickly answered but then had second thoughts.
She put it on speaker and informed Xing Shen: “Yan Tuo is here too.”
Xing Shen acknowledged with an “Oh” before continuing after a pause: “Last time, when Yu Rong returned from Old Ox Head Ridge, she left someone there to observe.”
Nie Jiuluo: “What did they find?”
“They said several cars went to the mining site today. The observer didn’t dare get too close, only watching from afar. But after waiting a long time without seeing the cars come down, they took advantage of the darkness and cautiously approached.”
“They found the mining site completely dark and deserted. Using their phone flashlight, they saw the main gate was padlocked, with the cars parked in the yard. The door to the mine shaft was also locked – from the inside.”
Nie Jiuluo understood: “So the people in the cars all went down into the mine shaft and haven’t come out?”
Xing Shen: “Exactly. With the meeting date approaching, I suspect they’ve already entered Heibai Valley. This confirms the mine shaft is indeed an entrance.”
Nie Jiuluo marveled: “Back then, we forged four Golden Person Gates to seal four entrances, thinking we’d blocked them all. Who knew we’d missed one.”
Xing Shen said: “I’m wondering if there’s a way to permanently seal that mine shaft.”
Nie Jiuluo didn’t understand: “What do you mean by ‘seal’?”
“They know Old Ox Head Ridge has been exposed, yet they still use it, which suggests there are no other entrances. If we completely block the mine shaft, wouldn’t the Di Xiao who went in be trapped?”
Yan Tuo, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up: “Don’t. I know Lin Xirou – if you thought of this, she has too. She wouldn’t proceed without a backup plan. I suggest we keep monitoring their movements but don’t act rashly.”
This seemed reasonable. After some thought, Xing Shen said: “Alright, I’ll keep watching for now.”
Then, changing the subject: “Aluo, how far can you help this time?”
Nie Jiuluo: “How far do you want me to help?”
Xing Shen hesitated: “At least provide backup as you did at Stone River? Though this time is different – staying in the county would make you too far to respond quickly, so I hope you can come into the mountains too.”
It was a reasonable request without any pressure. Nie Jiuluo readily agreed: “I can do that.”
She could sense Xing Shen’s relief through the phone. He had probably worried she would flatly refuse. Nie Jiuluo found it both amusing and slightly disappointing – did Xing Shen see her as purely self-serving?
With her agreement secured, Xing Shen’s tone lightened considerably: “Then you can head out in the next couple of days – the sooner the better. If you come early, you might catch our experiment with… borrowing the ghost army.”
Borrowing the ghost army?
“You’re experimenting already?” Nie Jiuluo blurted out. “What did you find in that first village?”
Xing Shen was vague: “Well… it’s hard to describe. You’ll see for yourself when you get here. After all, my eyes can’t catch the details.”
Fair enough. Nie Jiuluo’s curiosity was limited anyway, and she didn’t mind waiting a few days. As she was about to hang up, her eyes fell on the earlier sketch. “Xing Shen, do you know about Nüwa Flesh?”
Xing Shen was caught off guard: “What? How do you know…”
That reaction alone told Nie Jiuluo everything she needed to know. She pressed on: “You do know, don’t you? What exactly is it?”
Xing Shen gave an evasive answer: “That… it’s complicated to explain. Let’s discuss it when we meet.”
***
After hanging up, Xing Shen’s mind was racing. How did Nie Jiuluo know about Nüwa Flesh? Had Uncle Jiang mentioned it to her? Impossible – Uncle Jiang had explicitly said it was a secret known only to them.
Lost in thought, he suddenly realized his phone had been ringing persistently for some time.
It was Yu Rong.
When he answered, Yu Rong spoke first: “Should I pack up and head over?”
Xing Shen was startled: “You’re back already? Did you get the… goods?”
Yu Rong: “Brought them back. I heard you took half the people ahead, so… should I bring the other half?”
***
After getting confirmation, Yu Rong ended the call and pulled a large canvas bag from under her bed. She took it to the bathroom, and grabbed a towel from the rack and her toothbrush and cup from the shelf, stuffing everything inside.
Turning around, she was startled – Que Cha was standing in the bathroom doorway, having appeared silently.
Yu Rong frowned: “Can’t you make some noise when you walk? Trying to scare people?”
Que Cha’s gaze fell on the canvas bag: “You’re leaving?”
A few days ago, Yu Rong had left once before, saying she needed to get some goods, but that time she hadn’t taken a bag or packed anything.
Yu Rong nodded and walked past her.
Que Cha made way and followed her into the bedroom, watching her pack clothes before asking hesitantly: “Will you be coming back?”
Yu Rong said: “Probably not.”
If all went well and they cleared the threats, she’d return directly to Thailand. And if things went badly and she died on the spot, well, there’d be no coming back anyway.
Something occurred to her, and she looked up at Que Cha: “Do you have any relatives or friends you could stay with?”
This journey into the Golden Person Gate certainly wasn’t Que Cha’s business – everyone saw her as just a pretty songbird, useless in a fight. But if things went wrong, she’d be the lone target left outside. The Di Xiao might leave her alone, but if they came for her, she’d have no chance.
Que Cha thought for a moment, then shook her head embarrassedly: “No.”
When she’d gotten together with Jiang Baichuan, her family had strongly opposed it. She’d slammed the door and left. After that, moving around with Jiang Baichuan, she’d completely lost contact with her birth family.
Yu Rong criticized her: “So what if we all die trying to rescue Uncle Jiang? Where will you hide? What will you do?”
Que Cha was stumped.
Yu Rong was exasperated: “For over ten years, you’ve just revolved around Uncle Jiang – no friends, no job, no skills. Even a schemer would know to plan for themselves.”
Que Cha didn’t get angry. She said: “If you’re going to rescue Jiang, is there any way I can help? He’s treated me well. Even if we part ways after this, I want to contribute to his rescue.”
Yu Rong said: “Your heart’s in the right place, but rescue missions depend on ability. Don’t take this the wrong way, but what skills do you have? What would you do if you came along? Provide sound effects when things go wrong?”
Que Cha hesitated: “Actually… I’m pretty good with a crossbow.”
She explained: “Over the years, I didn’t have many hobbies. Once, when Jiang took me to an archery range where he was meeting a friend, I watched others shoot while they talked business. I tried it myself, and the instructor said I had natural talent.”
In her life, besides her looks, she’d never been praised for anything else. After that, she practiced regularly. Seeing her interest, Jiang Baichuan had even custom-ordered a crossbow for her and occasionally took her to the outskirts to hunt birds and fish.
When Jiang Baichuan went to Qing Rang, she’d wanted to follow, but he’d laughed: “That’s just playing around, like make-believe. Don’t actually think you’re capable.”
But she did think she was quite good.
Yu Rong looked at her with interest: “Good? How good? Can you demonstrate?”
Que Cha said: “Wait a moment.”
Oh? Was she carrying a crossbow around?
Yu Rong watched Que Cha enter the inner suite. She emerged shortly after, indeed carrying a crossbow. It looked like a leopard folding model but more delicate, small enough to fit in a large shoulder bag – clearly custom-made.
She also held two small steel arrows, her voice slightly excited: “Draw a target. I can hit it from fifty or even a hundred meters.”
Yu Rong was amused: “So what if you can hit it? Have you watched too many martial arts movies? What era is this? Do you know what goods I went to get? Guns! What age are we in, still using arrows? Maybe good for hunting birds and fish.”
The smile froze on Que Cha’s face, slowly fading as she spoke hesitantly: “Oh.”
Probably afraid Yu Rong would overthink it, she forced another smile: “I’ll put it back then.”
She turned towards the inner room. The first time she’d entered, her steps had been light; this time, her whole body seemed to shrink.
Watching her retreat, Yu Rong felt uncomfortable. A thought suddenly crossed her mind: What’s wrong with traditional weapons? Didn’t that Little Red Hood Nie Er use a blade? Hadn’t she taken down a couple of Di Xiao?
She called out: “Hey, wait!”
Que Cha turned back, puzzled.
Yu Rong rummaged through her canvas bag and pulled out her plastic toothbrush cup: “You’re really good?”
Que Cha’s eyes gradually brightened: “Really.”
“Come with me.”
***
Yu Rong led Que Cha to the backyard.
It was a farm, with a vegetable garden in the back about the size of two basketball courts, surrounded by walls with scattered trees along them.
Yu Rong turned on the yardlights. Though not as bright as daylight, visibility was good enough. She chose a spot to stand, directed Que Cha to back up further and further, until they were roughly eighty meters apart, then placed the toothbrush cup on her head: “Go ahead.”
Que Cha was startled. After slowly steadying the crossbow, she hesitated: “This isn’t right…”
Yu Rong stood still as a mountain: “If you can’t, forget it. Even kids can use a crossbow. If you’re not good enough at this level, who would dare…”
Before she could finish, she saw a cold flash, followed by a whoosh past her head, then a sharp thunk.
Yu Rong quickly turned to look – impressively, the arrow had pinned her cup to a tree trunk high up.
Damn, that was good.
Yu Rong felt a bit sorry for her cup.
Without commenting, she walked to a nearby winter tangerine tree, plucked a large one, and then turned to Que Cha: “So you can hit birds and fish? Moving targets then? Watch out, here it comes!”
She threw the tangerine high into the air.
The arrow came incredibly fast – Yu Rong barely blinked before the tangerine was carried away by the arrow.
She swallowed, strode back, and as she passed Que Cha, said: “Good. Go pack your bags.”
Que Cha froze, taking a long time to process it: “I’m… really good enough?”
Yu Rong laughed heartily: “Good? You’re excellent! Anyone who says you’re not good, go take them down.”