Mu Dai stammered awkwardly: “I-I… I’m afraid of infection. I’ll stay somewhere nearby, Luo Ren. Just call and I’ll rush over.”

She was nearly jumping with anxiety.

Luo Ren laughed as he released her hand: “Don’t trust others too easily, Mu Dai. At any time, ensuring your safety is most important.”

Back in her room, Mu Dai kept thinking about Luo Ren’s words.

What did he mean? Was the implication that she was naive and easily deceived? That’s ridiculous—she had her judgment, and trusted people only after careful observation and selection. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she trust Yi Wansan?

Li Tan left early in the morning. Luo Ren couldn’t leave Pin Ting, so Uncle Zheng took Mu Dai and Yi Wansan to the nearest hotel.

At the front desk, Yi Wansan grumbled: “Why can’t we stay there anymore? Their house is so spacious.”

Mu Dai glared at him: “It’s because you ate too much lamb yesterday and made yourself unwelcome!”

He was blamed for everything! Yi Wansan carried the luggage, following Mu Dai to their rooms, fuming all the way: Where had all the kidnappers gone?

They reached Mu Dai’s room first. Just as she took out her key card, the door across opened. Someone came out humming a tune, but upon seeing them, let out a startled cry and shrank back.

Too late—Mu Dai had already seen him. She looked from Yi Wansan to the half-closed door: “Come out!”

Cao Yanhua struggled internally before hanging his head and reemerging.

Before Mu Dai could speak, Yi Wansan seized the initiative, feigning surprise as he strode over: “Brother Cao! How did you get here?”

Cao Yanhua also quickly played along: “Truly, one meets everywhere in life! After visiting Yunnan, I wanted to change to a rougher environment to relax my mind. Who knew you’d be here too!”

To this, Mu Dai only wanted to say two words.

Hah. Hah.

She encouraged them: “Act. Keep acting.”

With that, she swiped her card and entered her room, kicking the door shut behind her.

With the audience gone, Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua exchanged glances and began blaming each other.

—”Damn it! Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here?”

—”Damn! You just told me to contact you when I arrived, not where I was staying. Besides, weren’t you staying at their house? How was I supposed to know you’d come to a hotel… Does this mean my apprenticeship has even less hope now?”

…

To make amends, Cao Yanhua persuaded Mu Dai and Yi Wansan to join him for lunch at a restaurant.

Despite the table full of dishes, Mu Dai wouldn’t touch her chopsticks: “Yi Wansan has a reason to follow me. Why did you come too? Didn’t you just find a job?”

“It’s just… a dish-carrying job. Taking a month or two off won’t affect my career.”

Mu Dai was both amused and annoyed. Any job could become a “career” in Cao Yanhua’s hands.

Yi Wansan chimed in: “Little boss lady, my Brother Cao has a kind heart and pure nature. If your master won’t accept him, you could! Just teach him some basic skills. Butterfly effect—if he saves someone in the future, you’ll accumulate boundless merit.”

Mu Dai glanced at him: “You mention the butterfly effect, but what if he harms someone? If he learns martial arts and then goes stealing, by the butterfly effect, I’d bear part of that sin too.”

Cao Yanhua’s plump face turned bright red: “Sister Mu Dai, I was detained for education last time. I truly won’t steal anymore. If you become my master and I steal again, you can cut my tendons and cripple me.”

He’d read too many martial arts novels. Mu Dai was puzzled: “Why do you want to learn martial arts anyway?”

Cao Yanhua’s face reddened further. After a while, he hesitantly pulled a wallet from his pocket.

What did this mean? Mu Dai took it, confused. She thought Li Tan’s wallet contained a photo of her Aunt Hong, Li Yaqing—did Cao Yanhua also have a childhood sweetheart he couldn’t forget?

Opening the wallet, she realized her misunderstanding. There was indeed a photo, but the distinctive nose would be recognized by Chinese people worldwide.

Jackie Chan.

Cao Yanhua huffed and stammered: “I’ve always had a dream…”

This wasn’t good. Mu Dai quickly interrupted: “Alright, let’s eat.”

Cao Yanhua didn’t understand why he was cut off so abruptly and stood there stunned. Yi Wansan gave him a look that said: Brother, just eat.

During the meal, Yi Wansan asked Mu Dai about Pin Ting: “Little boss lady, is that Pin Ting Luo Ren’s sister?”

Mu Dai said, “I think she’s his girlfriend.”

Yi Wansan’s eyes nearly popped out: “Not his sister? But they both have the surname Luo.”

“I don’t think so. My intuition is very accurate.”

So it was just intuition? Yi Wansan felt somewhat relieved, though he verbally agreed with Mu Dai: “If she’s his girlfriend, why would she suddenly go crazy? It must be because Luo Ren wasn’t good to her, making Pin Ting heartbroken and driving her insane…”

Mu Dai slammed her chopsticks on the table.

“You should call her ‘Miss Luo’ or ‘Luo Pin Ting,’ not just Pin Ting. You’re not that familiar with her. Keep your distance from other people’s girlfriends, and don’t have any inappropriate or presumptuous thoughts!”

Yi Wansan felt wronged: “What did I do? I was just asking.”

Mu Dai smiled at Yi Wansan, a smile that sent chills down his spine: “Let me tell you, my intuition is very accurate.”

There was nothing else that day. Mu Dai explored the Small Merchant River on her own, sending Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua away midway. Yi Wansan was happy not to accompany her, while Cao Yanhua was surprisingly worried: “Sister Mu Dai, you’re unfamiliar with this place. Please be careful.”

Having such a disciple wouldn’t be bad.

Mu Dai walked to the outskirts of Small Merchant River town. In the distance, undulating dunes surrounded an entry road. Mu Dai asked someone, “Why don’t I see any camels?”

The person nearly choked with laughter: “Miss, what era do you think this is? Who keeps camels as pets nowadays? Camels are all at tourist spots—Zhongwei’s Shapotou or Sand Lake.”

It turned out that places with camels were quite far from the Small Merchant River. Luo Ren had said “when there’s time, you can ride camels” as if camels were his household pets.

However, Mu Dai’s annoyance dissipated when she returned to the hotel.

Luo Ren had sent a humidifier to her room.

Brand new—probably just purchased. Following the instructions, Mu Dai filled it with water and plugged it in. After heating for a while, gentle steam spread throughout the room.

Mu Dai stared at the steam for a long time, feeling a spontaneous sense of responsibility toward someone who understood her.

She had to help Luo Ren somehow.

The hotel was indeed very close to Luo Ren’s house. Lifting the curtain, she could see that distinctive residence in Small Merchant River not far away.

That night, Mu Dai lifted the curtain at least eight times: If only a thief would break into Luo Ren’s house!

During her final peek, a car stopped at the entrance, and a woman in her forties got out.

An unfamiliar face—who was she?

Mu Dai had a thought, recalling Luo Ren’s words: “Don’t trust others too easily.” Did “others” include himself?

Logically, if they were friends, she shouldn’t sneak around spying on his secrets, but…

She and Luo Ren weren’t that close anyway.

Mu Dai circled the house several times. The front door was tightly closed, and she had no good reason to knock. Better to use the old method.

The houses here had rammed earth walls, making climbing extremely easy. Plus, the strong night wind rattled windows and coverings, particularly good for masking unusual sounds.

Mu Dai quickly reached a high point.

She looked through several windows, inevitably disappointed. The living room windows likely faced the courtyard, while this side was the back wall with bedrooms and bathrooms. To block the wind, windows here were kept closed year-round, with good soundproofing. Even if she could see people, she couldn’t hear them.

Discouraged, she was about to climb down when someone suddenly entered the room.

It was that woman with Pin Ting, and Luo Ren was there too. The woman had changed into a white coat with a stethoscope around her neck. She smiled and gave some instructions before leaving with Luo Ren, closing the door.

Mu Dai remembered—this must be the nurse Luo Ren had mentioned who regularly checked on Pin Ting.

Previously, when Pin Ting bathed, the nurse would accompany her throughout. But since Pin Ting began showing abnormalities, Luo Ren had strongly avoided leaving her alone with any unrelated person.

In the bathroom, only Pin Ting remained. She maintained that silent and wooden demeanor, first turning on the showerhead in the standing shower, then removing her clothes piece by piece.

This seemed a bit… improper to watch. Mu Dai averted her gaze, her heart pounding.

Pin Ting had a great figure.

Better not look. Mu Dai sighed, turning halfway on the wall to find a better position for descending. While switching hands, she inadvertently glanced back inside.

Pin Ting seemed to have forgotten something and came out of the glass shower door to retrieve it. As she turned slightly, her exquisite curves and pristine white back were dotted with glistening water droplets.

Mu Dai’s gaze suddenly narrowed. On Pin Ting’s back, that was…

Luo Ren silently listened to Mu Dai.

Mu Dai was somewhat excited, covered in dirt and dust, but spoke relatively quietly, as if afraid of being overheard: “Just one or two seconds, very quick. Under the skin on her back, something suddenly protruded. That shape…”

She hesitantly extended her hand, pointing to the wall.

Following her gesture, he saw his chart, the “Suspect’s Cause of Death” column.

“That same shape. And also…”

In those brief one or two seconds, the protruding skin wasn’t flat. The blood in the vessels suddenly turned brilliantly red, visible through the skin, forming an extremely fine stroke pattern.

Mu Dai found paper and drew it for Luo Ren—an elongated S-shape with a small tick added to the left.

It resembled a character.

Luo Ren opened his computer and searched a few times. The page paused on the screen, and he beckoned Mu Dai over: “Is it this character?”

Mu Dai nodded repeatedly.

The page showed “Evolution of the Character for Knife,” from oracle bone script through bronze inscriptions, seal script, clerical script, regular script, up to the current standard Song typeface.

The shape Mu Dai had drawn was indeed the first one—the oracle bone script for “knife.”

The ancient “Bowstring Song,” the oracle bone script for “knife”…

Luo Ren suddenly asked her: “Do you remember that at the murder scenes, among the puppets pulled by strings, there was always one holding a knife?”

She remembered—one person covering their face as if hiding, another grinning ferociously with a knife about to strike down, and a third pushing with both hands as if mediating.

The person with the knife wasn’t just making a gesture. They held a real knife, usually taken from the victim’s kitchen, placed in the victim’s hand, and secured with multiple wraps of string.

What did the knife represent?

Luo Ren’s brow furrowed, his index and middle fingers naturally curling to lightly tap the sofa armrest.

“Luo Ren?”

“Hmm.”

Mu Dai hesitated: “Actually, after you mentioned it last time, I found Wan Fenghuo. I asked him if ghosts exist in this world.”

Luo Ren looked up at Mu Dai.

Mu Dai spoke very seriously: “I know you don’t believe, but many things nominally attributed to ‘ghosts’ actually have scientific explanations. The person Wan Fenghuo directed me to seems genuinely impressive. He writes books and told me to maintain a scientific attitude.”

“So?”

Mu Dai truly believed this was a viable direction: “That person has researched various paranormal phenomena for over twenty years. He’s reportedly always traveling, having witnessed many extraordinary events. I thought, if you agree, we could tell him the whole story. Perhaps he’s encountered similar cases, or maybe he could provide some clues.”

Luo Ren recalled Wan Fenghuo’s frequent saying:

—Gathering information is like this. Sometimes you need a catalyst. Without one, waiting three to five years is common.

Indeed, if no new catalyst emerged, would they just keep waiting? Since both Wan Fenghuo and Mu Dai trusted this person, perhaps he could be the next catalyst?

Treat a dead horse as if it were alive.

Luo Ren took a deep breath: “What’s his name?”

As he spoke, he turned the computer to the search page, intending to look up this scholar’s books and research direction.

Mu Dai replied slowly with two characters:

“Shen Gun.”