The front desk transferred an outside call to Cen Chunjiao. She listened carelessly at first, but gradually her expression became serious, with hints of joy appearing at the corners of her eyes. She asked several follow-up questions in succession: “Really?”

After hanging up, she couldn’t contain her joy.

She hadn’t known before that information could be sold for money. After the death incident at the inn, business gradually declined, so she switched to working as a waitress at a restaurant near the central bus station. There, the flow of travelers from all directions was greater, people coming and going, all chewing over strange tales and unusual events. It was here that she heard about and took an interest in the business of selling information.

Before coming, she had done her homework. The Luoma Lake case and another case were indeed mysteries.

Cen Chunjiao opened her door and stepped out. The door diagonally opposite also opened almost simultaneously—it was Li Tan.

Cen Chunjiao showed him no courtesy, dragging her suitcase straight to the front desk. When she reached the lobby, she was somewhat surprised to find Wan Fenghuo and Mu Dai already there.

Wan Fenghuo found it rather strange. Just yesterday, Cen Chunjiao had told him that besides the Luoma Lake case, there was another case she wanted to discuss with him. How had she suddenly packed her luggage to leave? Was she upset by Li Tan and the others repeatedly calling her story “false”?

It didn’t seem so. Cen Chunjiao was a money-loving person. Just this morning, she had been arguing with him about money for half the day.

Although Wan Fenghuo was puzzled, he didn’t bring it up, instead greeting her amicably: “Leaving already?”

“There’s an urgent matter at home, I need to hurry back.”

Li Tan snorted with disdain. In his mind, Cen Chunjiao had undoubtedly become synonymous with “scammer.” Unusually composed, Cen Chunjiao maintained her normal expression as she bid farewell to everyone.

After Cen Chunjiao left, Wan Fenghuo explained to Mu Dai and Li Tan that gathering information was like this—sometimes you needed a catalyst, and without it, waiting three to five years was common.

The implication was that the matter had reached another impasse, and he would notify them if there was new information.

Li Tan neither agreed nor disagreed, not saying whether he would leave or stay. Mu Dai called Huo Zihong. Hong Yi spoke softly: “Since nothing is going on, come back if you want to return. If you find staying in Chongqing enjoyable, then play for a couple more days. The shop isn’t busy these days, and Yi Wansan is doing quite well.”

Yi Wansan, Yi Wansan—just hearing this name made her angry. Mu Dai said unhappily: “Hong Yi, don’t be seduced by him.”

Hong Yi laughed: “You’re imagining things. He’s just a child.”

Hong Yi was truly naive. How could she judge Yi Wansan by normal standards? Mu Dai felt that as long as there was profit to be made, Yi Wansan would willingly seduce an eighty-year-old woman, let alone Hong Yi, who still possessed charm.

It was like placing a sheep at the wolf’s mouth—very bad indeed. Mu Dai decided on the spot: “Hong Yi, I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure Yi Wansan behaves himself.”

After the call, Mu Dai went to room 108 to ask Wan Fenghuo for Ma Tuwen’s address. Wan Fenghuo looked her up and down several times: “You haven’t fallen for him, have you?”

Mu Dai smiled mischievously: “Maybe I have.”

Wan Fenghuo was astonished: “Girls your age, your eyes must be blind.”

Having gotten the address, Mu Dai still lingered: “Uncle Wan, how much money could Cen Chunjiao make from this trip?”

She pretended to be interested in entering the profession: “I have a wild temperament. After graduation, I sat in an office but couldn’t endure it. Hong Yi let me help at the bar, but I wasn’t interested. If this business pays well, could you set me up with some connections? I could travel around gathering information and make money at the same time.”

Wan Fenghuo quite liked Mu Dai and was happy to chat with her: “Several tens of thousands of yuan, probably.”

Mu Dai gasped: Several tens of thousands! And Wan Fenghuo, as a middleman, would take a cut. How much had Hong Yi and the others paid?

Wan Fenghuo saw through her thoughts: “Young lady, information is valuable only when you find the right people. Don’t worry about the money for your Hong Yi. What she paid wasn’t even the largest portion.”

Mu Dai wanted to ask more, but Wan Fenghuo turned his palm upward, suggesting: ask any more and I’ll have to charge you.

Hong Yi’s contribution wasn’t the largest? Looking at Li Tan’s weary appearance, he didn’t seem wealthy either. Could the major contributor be Ma Tuwen?

No, no, no—it must be the people behind him.

By the time she arrived at Ma Tuwen’s place, it was nearly noon. The entire neighborhood was dilapidated and noisy. Ma Tuwen was practicing singing with a guitar at the first-floor entrance, his neck stretched upward as he sang: “I want to fly higher… fly higher oh oh…”

The two “oh oh” high notes didn’t reach their mark, sounding as if someone had grabbed his neck and cruelly tied two knots.

Two hooligans beside him clapped: “Great! Great! My Brother Ma sings too well!”

Mu Dai discreetly surveyed the surroundings. Nothing unusual, and no sign of the car Cao Yanhua had mentioned. It seemed Luo Ren hadn’t arrived yet. She was content to wander nearby. By early evening, stalls had appeared in the neighborhood—some selling fried tofu, others setting up a few tables in front of their homes to sell small wontons. Mu Dai ordered a bowl of small wontons. As she bent down to scoop up some soup, she heard the sound of wheels dragging a suitcase behind her.

A woman was asking: “Is that Building Number Three over there?”

Cen Chunjiao!

Mu Dai looked down at the seaweed and dried shrimp in her wonton soup bowl, and suddenly everything became crystal clear in her mind: No wonder Cen Chunjiao had suddenly packed to leave. She wasn’t going home; she had been intercepted midway!

Given her money-loving nature, if she could bypass the middleman and deal directly, why wouldn’t she?

Pretending to be eating, Mu Dai glanced at Cen Chunjiao from the corner of her eye. Sure enough, she made her way toward the building across the street, soon disappearing up the cramped staircase with her suitcase.

Ma Tuwen lived on the third floor.

Everything was set; they were just waiting for Luo Ren.

After nine in the evening, Mu Dai spotted a black Hummer driving in. She didn’t know cars, but instinctively felt this vehicle was extremely domineering and arrogant, completely out of place in the neighborhood. Indeed, the person who got out was Luo Ren.

The first thought that crossed Mu Dai’s mind was: his driving skills were impressive. The neighborhood’s roads were cluttered with obstacles, yet he had managed to drive in.

Luo Ren parked the car and headed straight for Ma Tuwen’s building. But before entering, he seemed suddenly alert, looking suspiciously in Mu Dai’s direction.

Mu Dai’s mind stirred. She hadn’t been directly tailing Luo Ren. She had chosen a tricky angle, directly facing a car’s rearview mirror, which reflected the path to and from Ma Tuwen’s home. In other words, she was facing away from Luo Ren.

In other words, Luo Ren couldn’t see anything suspicious, but at that instant… he became suspicious anyway.

Her master had said that two types of people are most alert to anomalies around them: one type has experienced many dangers and developed a sixth sense for danger; the other has practiced martial arts for years, observing the six directions and listening in eight.

This Luo Ren seemed to… possess both qualities.

Shortly after Luo Ren entered the building, Mu Dai circled to the back. The building was in an isolated position with no facing buildings behind it, which simplified matters. Mu Dai put on her gloves, zeroed in on the window of Ma Tuwen’s apartment, took a deep breath, pressed her back against the wall, pushed off the ground, and at about two meters high, performed a half-body flip. With her strength concentrated in her hands, distributing force between her feet and abdomen, she quickly reached the window.

The window wasn’t closed tightly, and fragments of conversation drifted out. It was Cen Chunjiao speaking.

“The Luoma Lake case was only the first one. Liu Shuhai said he committed two crimes. But I can’t explain clearly why there were so many years between the two.”

Luo Ren asked her: “Where was the second crime committed?”

“Inner Mongolia, near the border between Inner and Outer Mongolia, around Erenhot, but he didn’t specify exactly, just said it was on the wild grassland.”

“Were the victims herders?”

“Yes, nomads.”

“Was the death scene the same?”

“All the same, also with people threaded with a line. But he said there were four people in the tent, so the scene was like this: one person covering their face, as if hiding; another holding a horse knife, poised to strike downward; a third pushing outward with both hands, as if mediating; the fourth person was at some distance from these three, with hands cupped around the mouth, as if shouting.”

Luo Ren made a sound of acknowledgment: “What kind of line was used for threading?”

“He said it was unraveled lasso rope. The tent didn’t need to be staked down. A knife made an opening in the tent, the line tied around it, with the other end connected to people.”

Luo Ren fell silent.

The shadow on the window deepened, as if someone was walking toward it. Mu Dai’s heart trembled, and she moved to the side.

Luo Ren opened the window, seemingly somewhat restless, and said to Ma Tuwen: “Give me a cigarette.”

Smoke wafted out gracefully.

The room seemed to fall into momentary silence.

Mu Dai was also confused. Cen Chunjiao’s narrative was orderly, not seemingly made up, and she paid attention to details. For instance, fishing line was used in the Luoma Lake case because there were many fishermen around Luoma Lake, and fishing line was readily available. In Inner Mongolia’s grasslands, they used what was at hand—unraveled lasso rope.

It sounded like the perpetrator wanted to showcase a larger scene, not just limited to three people. But what was the significance of this scene?

The room was very quiet, with only the smoke continuing to rise. Mu Dai frowned: Was this Luo Ren a chain smoker? How many cigarettes was he going to smoke?

After a while, Mu Dai suddenly felt something was wrong. She held her breath and listened carefully, then abruptly realized what was happening and leaned in to look through the window.

There was no one in the room. A lit cigarette had been set up on the windowsill, beside it lay another cigarette butt that had burned down to the end.

Mu Dai’s expression alternated between dark and light as she gritted her teeth and darted into the room. Upon landing, she stepped on an empty beer can and nearly slipped, only managing to stay upright thanks to her stable footwork.

The room wasn’t large, and everything was visible at a glance. The main door was half open; everyone had long since disappeared.

Luo Ren!

Mu Dai could almost see him signaling with his eyes for Ma Tuwen and the others to leave quietly, while unhurriedly lighting a cigarette.

And there she had been, so cautious, hanging on the wall in the freezing wind, being smoked out for so long!

If the wall had been soft, Mu Dai would have truly wanted to bang her head against it.

The phone rang.

Mu Dai looked around for a while before spotting the telephone buried among a pile of miscellaneous items on the coffee table. Since the proliferation of mobile phones, few households specifically installed landlines anymore. She originally intended to ignore it, but as if possessed, she picked it up anyway.

From the other end came Luo Ren’s light chuckle, along with the sound of passing cars. He was already on the road; there was no point in chasing, nor could she catch up.

That voice was killing her nerves.

“Young lady, it wasn’t easy hanging on that wall, was it? Must have been tiring. There are strawberries on the table. Don’t be shy, wash them and enjoy.”

Before Mu Dai could speak, he had hung up.