Huo Zihong was overwhelmed by the sudden panic and confusion, but thanks to Luo Ren’s calmness, she finally began to compose herself.

People are always like this—”sudden encounters” and “long experience” are ultimately two different concepts.

Luo Ren asked about the area code, which must have been from another region. He was more composed than herself, and in just a few sentences had roughly figured out the direction of things. Huo Zihong wanted him to step in, and his taking charge was more appropriate than hers.

She thought about how to phrase it.

“Luo Ren, although you and Mu Dai… that’s in the past…”

“But you’re still friends after all, so if something happens to Mu Dai, please…”

Luo Ren interrupted her: “You don’t need to remind me, I know what to do.”

He helped Huo Zihong stand up: “I’ll go over first to check things out, and I’ll contact you if anything happens. You don’t need to be too nervous. You know Mu Dai’s personality—she might have just received the news suddenly, but once she calms down, she’ll be fine.”

Huo Zihong stood there in a daze for a while, gradually regaining her awareness.

Previously, she seemed to have watched some AIDS prevention videos. How did they explain it again?

There was an incubation period, averaging about ten years or so, but Mu Dai was already almost 24 years old.

Also, AIDS supposedly destroys the body’s immune system, and patients would have poor resistance to illness, but Mu Dai had always been healthy, and because of her martial arts training, she rarely got sick.

She let out a breath, feeling that in the past few minutes, it was as if someone had suddenly picked her up and turned her upside down, with her head pointing downward, her thoughts all muddled. But now, she was right-side up again.

She smiled awkwardly at Luo Ren: “People are just prone to frightening themselves.”

Luo Ren made a sound of acknowledgment and glanced at the wrought iron wall clock behind the bar: “It’s about time. I’ll take Pin Ting back first.”

He turned to leave, only taking two steps before Huo Zihong called out to him from behind.

Luo Ren turned back.

Huo Zihong said, “Luo Ren, don’t you ever panic?”

Huo Zihong searched through her various impressions of Luo Ren since knowing him. He had been angry before, and had spoken heatedly, but honestly, with so many things happening, she had never seen Luo Ren panic.

Don’t you ever panic?

Luo Ren answered: “What use is panicking?”

Mu Dai hung up the phone in a daze and began walking aimlessly in one direction, not knowing where she was headed.

It seemed she was following people as they walked—randomly picking someone to follow, and when she lost track of them, she’d pick another, mechanically following, at least she was moving.

AIDS—she had heard the word many times, but she never paid attention to it, only knowing that it was the epidemic of the century, supposedly transmitted through promiscuity, blood, and from mother to child.

Having finally mustered the courage to start anew, kindling hope was so difficult, yet extinguishing it was so easy.

Tears slowly rolled down her face. She wiped them away against the wind, thinking: Please don’t get sick, okay?

But then she felt that such things were beyond control. Grudges could be resolved, but this cold, merciless thing invading her body—it was something she could never defeat, no matter how hard she fought.

She took deep breaths, reminding herself to stay calm.

It was just an old woman’s words after all. Nothing was certain yet. Perhaps she should go to the hospital for a check-up first. Maybe she hadn’t been infected?

But if she was infected…

Strangely, this time, her mood fell back.

If she were infected, this life might soon come to an end, but that didn’t seem so frightening. Wenwen had been gone for eight years already, and she had gotten so many more years than Wenwen.

She slowly put her hands into her pockets, thinking of the cemetery she had seen before, with tombstones of uniform shape, a name written on top, along with the years of birth and death.

If she were to write a brief life story?

Abandoned by her mother as a child, juvenile delinquency, the death of a close friend, and mental imbalance. Practiced martial arts for eight years, loved someone once.

The wind blew, lifting her hair to cover her eyes.

Really, what a particularly thin life she had lived. No achievements, no contributions made. What was the point of coming to this world?

She viciously kicked a clod of earth at her feet.

The cloud disintegrated in mid-air, dirt flying everywhere. Someone walking ahead turned back to look at her, then walked away faster.

What? Afraid she would rob them?

Mu Dai looked back, the brightly lit area already left behind. She didn’t know who this was—the how-many-eth person she had followed—but they had somehow walked to the outskirts.

In the distance, it was pitch black, with small scattered houses. To the right were rice field ridges, the wind blowing through the night rice stalks, making them rise and fall, producing rustling sounds.

It had the atmosphere of a horror or crime film.

Mu Dai stopped, brushing her wind-blown hair behind her ears. The person ahead walked faster and faster, and after a while, suddenly turned down toward the rice field ridge, rushing through the rice stalks.

What was this about? A date?

Mu Dai looked in that direction, there was something standing out abruptly, like a horse suspended in air.

A suspended horse in a rice field? Mu Dai thought she might have seen wrong. She considered, then went down from the edge of the field toward that direction.

As she got closer, she found it was indeed real.

Below was a large round cement platform, and on top was a horse-shaped sculpture. The shape of the head was a bit strange. The person from earlier was now kneeling at the base of the cement platform, shining a flashlight, and tremblingly writing something. Hearing movement, they let out a sharp cry, frantically shining the light towards her: “Who? Who’s there!”

The light stung her eyes, and Mu Dai raised her hand to shield them.

She heard the person make a “huh” sound, saying: “Aren’t you that… waitress?”

Mu Dai lowered her hand and walked closer to look at him.

She remembered now—it was that chubby boy from yesterday, the one whose head was being smacked as the crew-cut man scolded him, “Are you a man or not?”

He let out a long sigh: “Aiya, why are you following me? You scared me.”

Though he said this, his tone was more relaxed. In the pitch-black darkness, having another familiar face was like having a companion.

He knelt again, shook the white-out in his hand, and continued writing something on the stone platform.

Mu Dai moved closer to look and discovered that the stone platform was like layer upon layer of fabric, covered with countless graffiti messages. The chubby boy was writing in a small, barely available space.

—Been here, Zhang Tong.

So his name was Zhang Tong.

After all, he came to prove that he was brave, that he was a man.

Mu Dai said, “You could have come during the day to write this, you know.”

Zhang Tong snorted: “You think they’re all stupid? They watched me leave from the bridge, and when I go back, they’ll send someone to check.”

Mu Dai sighed. She felt that like Zheng Li, she probably had a generation gap with them, unable to understand this behavior.

After finishing, Zhang Tong tilted his head, pressing his ear against the stone platform to listen.

He was quite glad that Mu Dai was there. If he were alone, who knows how scared he might have been.

Mu Dai asked curiously: “What are you listening for?”

Zhang Tong made a “shh” sound and said, “Heartbeats.”

Heartbeats from a cement platform?

Mu Dai was somewhere between laughing and crying. She could see that Zhang Tong was scared earlier, and since they both had to head back anyway, she might as well go with him.

She mimicked him, also pressing her ear to listen, her ear pressed against the cold cement surface.

How could there be heartbeats?

Suddenly, there was a strange wind, blowing directly at the back of her neck.

Mu Dai felt it was strange, though she couldn’t quite explain it clearly, but instinctively felt that the wind didn’t blow like that.

Almost instinctively, like a body’s vigilant response, she turned around while strongly blocking with her arm.

Then she stood up.

Not far away were the rice stalks, black and swaying up and down. A rat darted out from among the rice roots, squeaking.

Mu Dai felt that she had actually touched something, but as soon as she made contact, it vanished into thin air.

Was she overthinking? Imagining things?

Behind her, Zhang Tong shivered violently, then after a while, stood up, clutching the white-out, saying: “This wind is really weird.”

Mu Dai said, “Are you scared?”

Despite Mu Dai being several years older, Zhang Tong still couldn’t help trying to save face in front of a woman: “Who’s scared?”

Mu Dai said, “It’s just air flow.”

She led Zhang Tong through the rice field, back to the main road. Having completed his mission, Zhang Tong was in good spirits, even whistling, telling her: “Turns out, it’s quite simple when you do it. I was so worried before that I couldn’t even sleep.”

“I’ve transcended, I’ve enlightened, I’ve leveled up.”

Mu Dai glanced at him: What would this kid know? Getting anxious over small matters. When he faces truly worrisome big issues in the future, he’ll realize these things aren’t even worth a fart.

Of course, this insight wasn’t hers either; the ancients had noted it long ago.

It’s called: “Now that I’ve tasted all flavors of sorrow, I can say: how cool and pleasant is autumn.”

Mu Dai followed Zhang Tong back to the bridge closer to town, which naturally became the dividing line between urban and rural—one end brilliantly lit, the other pitch dark.

The night market by the bridge was bustling, with a group of people sitting on small stools eating barbecue, some whom she had seen yesterday, others new faces.

When the group saw Zhang Tong, they erupted in raucous jeers. Mu Dai walked past from the side, faintly hearing Zhang Tong boasting behind her: “I said I’d go and I went. There was a beauty walking at night who was scared, so I brought her back too. Look, the one who just passed by…”

The crew-cut man said: “Wasn’t it the one following behind?”

Zhang Tong was suddenly terrified: “What?”

He turned to look back toward the path they had come from, and the surrounding people burst into laughter again. Someone wearing checkered clothes punched the crew-cut man, saying: “Super Bro, don’t scare him, look at how cowardly he is…”

The crew-cut man was a bit confused, saying: “I saw…”

Another wave of laughter drowned out his voice.

Back at the restaurant, the late-night food service was almost over. Zheng Shuiyu’s expression wasn’t very good, but she didn’t say anything to her.

Before bed, Zheng Li affectionately moved closer, saying, “Sister Mu, where did you go?”

Mu Dai instinctively withdrew, reaching out to block her.

Zheng Li was stunned for a moment.

Mu Dai also felt a bit awkward, paused, and said: “Stay away from me, I’ve caught a cold these past couple of days.”

Zheng Li let out an “oh,” retreating to her bed. As she lay down, she said: “Auntie should have some cold medicine, I’ll get you a couple of packets tomorrow.”

Mu Dai said, “I’ll go to the hospital myself to check.”

With a heart full of worries, she should have been tossing and turning, but strangely, she fell into a deep sleep, and when she opened her eyes in the morning, it was already past ten.

She came down after washing up and heard Zheng Li saying loudly downstairs: “My Sister Mu has caught a cold.”

Perhaps because the lunch service hadn’t started yet, the restaurant seemed idle. Zheng Shuiyu and He Qiang were both outside, gathered with the neighbors, discussing something.

Zheng Li was wiping the tables, moving very slowly, constantly looking up toward the door.

There was a subtle feeling, a sense that something was different.

Seeing Mu Dai come down, she quickly went to meet her, but remembering Mu Dai’s instructions and fearing she would be displeased, she quickly stepped back.

She said, “Sister Mu, something happened in the county.”

She lowered her voice: “It seems someone was murdered.”

Nantian County was located at the junction of Chongqing, Hunan, and Guizhou, but public security had always been good. It wasn’t that there had never been fatal cases before, but those involving suicide, accidental drowning while drunk, or traffic accidents, were not considered malicious.

A murder case hadn’t occurred for several years.

Did it happen last night?

Zheng Li said, “The news spread early this morning. In a small place like ours, when something happens, people can chew on it for months. I heard it was a student, a high school senior, who fell from the bridge and died.”

“Because he couldn’t swim?”

“He didn’t fall into the water, but onto the bridge embankment, still several meters from the water.” Zheng Li was just repeating what she’d heard, but was inexplicably excited, seemingly feeling that some incident breaking the monotony of daily life provided good conversation material. “It was also bad luck; if he had fallen into the water, he might not have died.”

Mu Dai said, “Why do they say he was killed? He could have fallen by himself.”

Zheng Li said, “Because someone saw it happen!”

So that was it. There was nothing more to say then.

Zheng Li pointed to the people gathered outside discussing: “They said a woman pushed him, someone saw it.”

Mu Dai smiled slightly, also grabbing a cloth to wipe the tables, starting from the other end.

When wandering around the county a couple of days ago, she had seen the county hospital, but for this kind of examination, wouldn’t it be more reliable to go to a bigger place?

Outside, there was the sound of brakes, and the crowd, discussing eagerly, dispersed. Zheng Li was a bit nervous: “Sister Mu?”

Mu Dai looked up, and unexpectedly, it was a police car.

Two policemen got out—one in uniform, the other not—accompanied by a dejected-looking crew-cut man.

Mu Dai saw that the uniformed policeman was talking to Zheng Shuiyu. After saying a few words, Zheng Shuiyu turned her face back, puzzled, pointing in this direction.

Then, almost everyone outside looked over here.

Their gazes were complex.

Mu Dai’s scalp tingled slightly. This was not a good sign.

The two policemen, bringing the crew-cut man, were walking toward her.

Zheng Li was so nervous she began to stutter: “S-Sister Mu?”

Mu Dai didn’t speak. She stood by the table, her table-wiping movements becoming slower and slower, feeling that even breathing had become much more difficult.

With a creaking sound, the glass door hinges groaned as several people opened the door and came in. The air inside and outside the shop began to flow.

The uniformed policeman said, “Ma Chao, come and identify.”

The crew-cut man shrank forward a couple of steps, his gaze sweeping over Zheng Li’s face, lingering for two seconds on Mu Dai’s face, then, as if startled, he suddenly lowered his head.

The previous two times she had seen him, he had been swaggering like a boss, leading his subordinates. Now, following behind two policemen, he turned out to be just a young man barely of age, unable to hold his shoulders up.

Mu Dai heard him mumble: “It’s her.”