Should she go to Small Merchant River?

Mu Dai hesitated. Small Merchant River wasn’t exactly next door, just a few steps after turning left outside. Traveling thousands of miles would be taxing both mentally and physically—she felt somewhat lazy about it.

But it wasn’t just to satisfy her curiosity; it was also to help Aunt Hong discover the truth: what she had witnessed and thought was over after pushing him into the river was just the beginning.

Luo Ren had told her about Pin Ting’s unusual behavior and confirmed one thing: Zhang Guanghua’s drowning location was very close to where Liu Shuhai had his car accident.

Perhaps the key to untangling this knotted thread now lay with Pin Ting.

But what did “upright, hollow bamboo, bandit, pork” mean?

Her frowning repetition of these words caught Yi Wansan’s attention: “Little boss lady, what are you reciting?”

Mu Dai replied: “Song lyrics.”

Song lyrics? Yi Wansan was certain he’d heard the word “pork.” Modern lyricists were taking liberties these days.

Thick-skinned, he asked about all eight characters: “Little boss lady, might you have misheard? Do you know the ‘Song of the Seven Sons’ sung during Macau’s return?”

He cleared his throat and sang: “Do you know Macau, it’s not my real surname.”

Mu Dai stared at him. So Yi Wansan sang this poorly.

Yi Wansan had no idea Mu Dai was secretly disparaging him and continued explaining: “When I was young, I could never understand the lyrics. I always thought it said ‘A sesame seed tall, you don’t know my true heart.'”

It was indeed possible that Uncle Zheng had misheard. The original words probably weren’t these eight characters, but Mu Dai wasn’t a music enthusiast and knew very few songs. Yi Wansan enthusiastically offered to take care of it himself.

Although Hong Zihong had given him “freedom,” the suddenness of events left him without other plans. If he wanted to continue his swindling ways…

After all, the boss lady might not return for ages, so he should show utmost enthusiasm toward the newly appointed second-generation manager of the bar.

For the first time, Yi Wansan posted a question online not to boast but with a humble attitude, seeking help.

True enough, great experts hide among the common folk. Twenty minutes later, he came over proudly to claim credit.

“Little boss lady, that song is called ‘The Bowstring Song.’ It’s a very ancient folk song, supposedly from a primitive or slave society. It was passed down orally and predates even the ‘Book of Songs.'”

“The Bowstring Song” consists of eight characters: “duan zhu, xu zhu, fei tu, zhu rou” (cut bamboo, join bamboo, flying earth, chase meat).

The meaning is: Cut wild bamboo, join it together to make a bow, shoot mud pellets, and hunt for food.

Now she understood, yet was also more confused.

She quickly called Luo Ren, who wasn’t as surprised as expected, likely having already discovered the origin through various methods. After chatting briefly, he asked: “Have you decided? Are you coming?”

What could she say? There were enough reasons to go, and enough reasons not to. Unlike Luo Ren and Aunt Hong, she wasn’t directly involved—there was still a layer of separation.

Luo Ren laughed: “If you come, food and lodging are covered, and travel expenses can be reimbursed. Have you ever been to the desert, Mu Dai? When there’s time, you can ride camels.”

Mu Dai corrected him seriously: “Even if I go, it would be for serious matters, not for fun. I’ll think about it.”

After hanging up, despite much self-restraint, she still searched online for “desert, camel riding.” Looking at camel caravans against the sunset, imagining the gentle sound of camel bells, her eyes practically sparkled.

She had truly never seen a desert.

After a while, she sidled up to Zhang Shu: “Uncle, I need to make a trip to Small Merchant River in Yinchuan.”

After a pause, she emphasized: “Important business.”

A new batch of liquor and ingredients had arrived at the bar. Zhang Shu called Yi Wansan to help move them, sighing as they worked: “I knew the little boss lady’s heart wasn’t in the business… but Small Merchant River…”

Hong Zihong had always wanted Mu Dai to travel more and broaden her horizons, but Mu Dai usually went to big cities like Chongqing, with well-planned itineraries to avoid any mishaps.

But Small Merchant River, in Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region?

He asked Yi Wansan: “Didn’t you cycle through the western region before? Is it… Safe there?”

What did he mean? At his age, was Zhang Shu thinking of cycling too?

“I’m worried about the little boss lady going near Yinchuan. I was thinking maybe you should accompany her… but…”

He reassured himself: “Well, our Mu Dai has practiced martial arts for eight years.”

Yi Wansan quickly weighed the pros and cons—no, the pros far outweighed the cons.

He could escape labor, enjoy a company-paid vacation, perhaps even apply for a travel allowance from Zhang Shu. And maybe he’d encounter beautiful women during the journey, creating beautiful memories…

“Zhang Shu, have you been to Yinchuan?”

“No.”

Perfect—exactly what he wanted to hear. Yi Wansan cleared his throat: “It’s extremely chaotic there.”

In his subsequent description, numerous women disappeared there every year. When the police finally found them after great effort, they had often been wives in some mountain village for many years. Being skilled in martial arts offered no advantage; con artists excelled at sweet talk and setting traps, making them impossible to guard against. Yet all this couldn’t escape his eagle eyes…

And so it was settled.

Mu Dai landed at Hedong Airport. She had researched beforehand—Small Merchant River was in a remote location. She needed to transfer to Zhongwei first, then from Zhongwei to the Small Merchant River.

The transfer from Yinchuan to Zhongwei was still bustling with vehicles and people, but Zhongwei’s southern suburb bus station was much quieter. There was only a small supermarket beside the waiting room. As Mu Dai looked around the shelves, she suddenly had an idea. With a swift movement, she grabbed two boxes of cookies from in front of her.

The person opposite lowered their head with lightning speed.

Mu Dai beckoned with her finger at that small gap: “Look up.”

After a moment, Yi Wansan raised his head with a face full of smiles.

Bosses and employees are always treated differently. Mu Dai had flown all the way, while Yi Wansan had timed his train to arrive in Yinchuan earlier.

He didn’t want to follow closely behind Mu Dai—what would be the point of a “business trip” then? He needed to control his own time freely. So he told Zhang Shu that the little boss lady had always been prejudiced against him; openly following wouldn’t work, so he would “protect” her secretly.

The journey from Yinchuan had been fine—they took different buses at roughly the same time. But from Zhongwei onward, it became difficult. With only a few buses each day, being discovered was inevitable.

Yi Wansan laughed nervously as he spoke to Mu Dai: “It’s mainly Zhang Shu… he was worried about you…”

Fortunately, his phone still contained Zhang Shu’s text messages. Like a concerned elder, each message was lengthy and touching.

—Yi Wansan, don’t doze off on the road, watch Mu Dai carefully. No matter how capable she is, she’s still a young girl. Pay close attention to those who suddenly approach her. Be especially wary of sketchy characters, though even the non-sketchy ones require caution. Con artists can disguise themselves…

—Report to the police immediately if anything happens. Don’t let Mu Dai fight with people. If a fight does break out, you must stand in front…

Reading this warmed Mu Dai’s heart. Zhang Shu had worked for Aunt Hong for many years. Nominally an assistant, he was practically family. However, Zhang Shu was too optimistic about Yi Wansan—would he stand in front? It would be a blessing if he didn’t run away.

Mu Dai tossed the phone back to him and asked sternly: “Did you buy tickets?”

This seemed to indicate she was softening. Yi Wansan quickly nodded: “Yes, yes.”

When boarding, Yi Wansan actively performed, carrying Mu Dai’s bag and pushing through the crowd to secure seats first. He even dusted Mu Dai’s seat repeatedly. Mu Dai glanced at him, and though she said nothing, she must have been satisfied inside.

Yi Wansan thought to himself: I simply haven’t bothered to perform before. If I tried… hmph, I’d be… unstoppable.

As the bus slowly moved forward, while leaving the station gate, and when Mu Dai wasn’t paying attention, Yi Wansan, facing outside, gave a signal to someone in the corner.

Cao Yanhua acknowledged with an “okay” gesture.

The road to Small Merchant River wasn’t good—long stretches were bumpy. Mu Dai felt somewhat carsick. By the time they disembarked, it was approaching evening. She called Luo Ren, who instructed her on the most convenient route.

Mu Dai was angry: Coming from so far away, and he wouldn’t even drive over to pick them up? What was the Hummer for? To keep at home and feed carrots to?

Unhappy and feeling disrespected—was this how someone “invited” should be treated?

Yi Wansan, however, actively carried the luggage and asked for directions. After inquiring, he ran back excitedly: “Little boss lady, it’s this way.”

Mu Dai walked listlessly. Fortunately, the journey wasn’t long. Luo Ren opened the door for them, smiling and asking: “Was the journey okay?”

Mu Dai grunted affirmatively with a sullen face. Yi Wansan thought Luo Ren looked familiar: “You, aren’t you the one who…”

The impression from that night was deep—Hong Zihong screaming as she was pushed down, the bar buzzing with discussion, the little boss lady rushing out…

Luo Ren seemed to know what he was thinking: “Yes, that’s me.”

Mu Dai’s room was already prepared. Although Yi Wansan’s arrival wasn’t anticipated, there were plenty of spare rooms. After settling Mu Dai, Luo Ren led Yi Wansan to a room at the end of the corridor. Passing one particular room, Yi Wansan curiously looked back repeatedly.

The door was strange—a section of the security door had been hollowed out and replaced with something like bars…

On his second glance, a woman’s face suddenly appeared behind the bars. She wore a white high-necked sweater, the collar’s edge framing her delicate, pale face. Long straight hair, fine eyebrows like smoke, eyes like bottomless water…

Who was she? Luo Ren’s girlfriend? Damn, how lucky to have such a beautiful girlfriend! Luo Ren must not treat her well—why else would her gaze be so melancholic? Yes, he didn’t treat her well. Otherwise, with guests from afar, wouldn’t Luo Ren introduce them to each other?

From the corridor to the room, in those brief ten seconds, Yi Wansan’s emotional turmoil probably exceeded that of the past month.

Luo Ren opened the door and said to Yi Wansan, “Here we are.”

Mu Dai lay on the bed for a while. The temperature here was much lower than in Yunnan—dry and cold. Her lips were constantly dry, and the bed surface felt cool, allowing coldness to seep through her clothes.

Luo Ren came in to turn on the air conditioner, asking her, “Not feeling well?”

She continued lying there: “Mm-hmm.”

Luo Ren pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. After a moment, he said, “I originally wanted to pick you up, but Uncle Zheng took Li Tan to the hospital. He hasn’t been feeling well these past few days. Pin Ting needed someone here, so I couldn’t leave. Don’t take it to heart.”

Oh, that’s why. Mu Dai immediately felt petty. After all, Luo Ren’s matters here were more important. Wait—why did he say “don’t take it to heart”? Had he noticed?

Before Mu Dai could speak, Luo Ren asked: “What would you like for dinner? Roast lamb leg?”

“There are many people today. We can have Uncle Zheng build a fire in the yard for roasting lamb legs. Ningxia’s lamb is different from elsewhere. The sheep graze freely in the Yanchi Gobi Desert, where over twenty wild herbs grow—natural medicinal supplements. That’s why the lamb here has no gamey smell. There’s a good shop in Small Merchant River that sells marinated raw lamb legs. We can have Uncle Zheng brush them with honey water and roast them over the fire…”

Mu Dai turned her head to watch Luo Ren speak, only now observing him. Compared to their last meeting, he looked much more exhausted, with heavy, dark circles, as if he hadn’t rested properly for days.

Mu Dai felt somewhat guilty, realizing her previous anger was meaningless. She got up from the bed and mumbled: “Just something simple is fine. It’s too much trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. You’ve come from afar.”

After a pause, he added, “Let everyone enjoy a good meal with you. These past few days, no one has had the heart to eat properly.”