If Xiang Shilan could frequent the Tengma Sculpture Platform at night, her residence must be nearby. She wouldn’t want others to know about her strange condition, so she was likely living alone.

Standing on the platform and looking around, though the area was open with scattered dwellings, there were still residents.

Searching separately would involve too many unpredictable dangers, so they decided to move as a group, starting with the nearest house.

After knocking for a long time, a light finally came on inside. Luo Ren pondered how to begin: in the middle of the night, anyone awakened by strangers would be irritable. Getting information would be extremely difficult.

So, the group stayed back and let Mu Dai take the lead.

The door was opened by a burly man with an unfriendly expression, holding a rolling pin. Outside the main door was an iron security gate, which he didn’t open. He simply stood inside, eyeing Mu Dai suspiciously.

Seeing it was just a young girl, he relaxed somewhat, though his vigilance hadn’t completely disappeared.

Mu Dai said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’d like to ask about someone.”

The man was quite annoyed, cursing: “Are you sick? Knocking like that in the middle of the night!”

It seemed he was about to ignore her and slam the door shut.

Luo Ren used these few seconds of opportunity to suddenly dart out from the dark corner. His arm quickly reached through the iron bars, grabbed the man’s clothing at the shoulder, and pulled him toward the door.

Before Mu Dai could react, she heard a dull groan as the man’s back slammed against the security gate. Luo Ren held one of his arms, pulling it through the bars and twisting it behind him, while his other hand pressed against the man’s jaw.

The man was in agony. The rolling pin fell to the floor with a clatter, but because his jaw was restrained, his mouth gaped open without making a sound.

Luo Ren said, “Listen carefully. I have questions for you. Answer honestly, and it’ll be easier for everyone. We won’t make things difficult for you.”

Sweat broke out on the man’s forehead. Hearing “won’t make things difficult,” he relaxed slightly, then nodded frantically to show cooperation.

Mu Dai stepped back a bit, feeling somewhat rueful: polite inquiry had only earned them curses, while Luo Ren’s approach, though brutal, was often immediately effective.

She heard Luo Ren ask: “Is there a woman nearby, over forty, reclusive, who doesn’t interact much with people around her?”

The man trembled nervously, thought for a moment, then nodded vigorously.

Luo Ren released his grip on the man’s jaw.

Gasping for breath, the man said: “Yes, there is. Unmarried, I think. Lives alone. Rarely seen… She doesn’t farm but seems to take odd jobs in the county town, like sewing zippers, attaching buttons, altering clothes.”

That sounded somewhat right.

Luo Ren pressed further: “Does she have any other characteristics?”

Characteristics? The man probably rarely heard such formal terms and wasn’t sure what qualified as a characteristic. He simply said whatever came to mind: “She dresses outdated, and I’ve never seen friends visiting her. Oh, right!”

He suddenly remembered something: “A few years back, I heard her home was broken into.”

Luo Ren frowned slightly.

Was a break-in such a rare occurrence?

But the man eagerly continued: “In rural areas, thieves are common. Especially targeting homes without men, thieves are more brazen than ever. Sometimes they’ll steal from the same place several times a year. A few years ago, a thief broke in at night, but then ran away screaming, alarming everyone nearby…”

Not far behind them, Cao Yanhua whispered an explanation to Yi Wansan: “That’s the cardinal sin for thieves—they should be discreet. Who would make such a commotion themselves…”

He never missed an opportunity to show off his specialized knowledge of shady practices.

Luo Ren asked: “Then what?”

“He was a habitual thief and had been chased several times before. They say that scare gave him some kind of illness. No one’s seen him since. Some say he left the county.”

As he spoke, he became puzzled himself: “It was just a person. What was there to be afraid of?”

Luo Ren had a good idea now.

He asked: “Where does that woman live?”

The man reluctantly pointed toward the other side of the rice field: “Over there. See that utility pole? There’s a tile-roofed house below it. That’s the one.”

Good. Luo Ren released his hold and patted the man’s shoulder through the bars: “Thank you. Calm yourself and get a good night’s sleep.”

He gestured for Mu Dai and the others to leave. The man stood behind the security gate, staring blankly, somewhat in shock.

Luo Ren suddenly turned back, smiling: “You won’t call the police, will you?”

The smile seemed to carry a deeper meaning. The man broke out in goosebumps and hastily waved his hands: “No, no, no.”

At the edge of the rice field stood a utility pole and a tile-roofed house.

The lights were on. From a distance, they could see a shadow moving past the window.

Luo Ren said, “Tonight. We need to act quickly and decisively. If we give her a chance to escape, we might not even be able to leave Nantian safely.”

Mu Dai reminded him: “She moves very fast.”

A bit like the woman from the Four Village Mountain.

This was probably extra power granted by the Murder Slip possession. Luo Ren recalled his uncle, Luo Wenmiao. The night they had lost track of him, he and Pin Ting had searched everywhere, eventually finding footprints going up the courtyard wall.

Climbing walls? Inconceivable. Luo Wenmiao was just a refined, steady professor.

Later, at the murder scene, Luo Wenmiao was stopped by Li Tan. It seemed the power given by the Murder Slip hadn’t made him superhuman.

Could the extent of power be related to the degree of compatibility between the individual and the Murder Slip?

They gradually approached the house.

It was the simplest kind of tile-roofed house—red brick walls with a rough whitewash finish. At the door was an electric tricycle—necessary for carrying large loads of piecework from the county town.

After circling the house, they found two windows, front and back. To be cautious, Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan guarded the front window, while Mu Dai went around to watch the back.

Luo Ren went straight to knock on the door.

The wooden door panel echoed loudly under his knuckles: knock, knock, knock.

Mu Dai’s feelings were complex. She leaned beside the window, looking in slowly. The back window curtain was open a crack. From this angle, she could see a computer on a square table in the corner.

It was an old-fashioned type, with the tower horizontally placed under the monitor, like a discarded model from an internet café.

That mother from her memory—face painted with powder and rouge, full of impatience—after all these years, comically had a computer at home. What did she use it for? Browsing? Chatting? Watching videos?

A thought suddenly occurred to Mu Dai.

That horror story about the heartbeat, which had circulated in Nantian County for so long, had suddenly spread online after the Tengma Sculpture Platform was abandoned. Could Xiang Shilan herself have… made it up?

The more she thought about it, the more certain she became. Only Xiang Shilan could have created it.

As Luo Ren knocked again, the light inside suddenly went out.

Next, a dark figure rushed toward the window guarded by Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan. Amid the crisp sound of shattering glass came Cao Yanhua’s startled scream: “She’s out! She’s coming out!”

Luo Ren tensed, fearing Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan couldn’t stop her. He dashed over, but before he got close, glass shattered again—this time at the back window.

Luo Ren immediately realized: a diversion?

Sure enough, Yi Wansan shouted angrily: “It was a stool!”

Fortunately, they had stationed someone at the back window, too.

Sounds of struggle and fighting came from behind the house. Mu Dai must have intercepted Xiang Shilan. Without further hesitation, Luo Ren rushed over, with Cao Yanhua close behind. Yi Wansan hesitated briefly before following.

Just as they rounded the corner, they saw what could be described as a bulky shadow speeding rapidly across the ground toward the rice field.

Luo Ren instantly understood.

Mu Dai must have restrained Xiang Shilan. Though Xiang Shilan had the power of the Murder Slip, it couldn’t be denied that Mu Dai was skilled in martial arts.

She had probably pinned Xiang Shilan to the ground, trying to hold her firmly, but Mu Dai was light, and Xiang Shilan was adept at crawling quickly along the ground. Incredibly, using sheer force, she had dragged Mu Dai along with her—no wonder the shadow appeared so bulky; it was the combined silhouette of two people.

Luo Ren lunged forward, rolled on the ground, and reached out to grab one of Mu Dai’s arms. The dark mass was yanked into a turn on the ground, then quickly separated. Mu Dai refused to let go, resulting in Luo Ren holding her while her other arm firmly gripped Xiang Shilan’s clothing.

To Cao Yanhua, who arrived just after, the scene was almost comical: on the ground in the rice field, one person grabbing another, a chain of three people stretching out. He couldn’t tell who was who, but instinctively knew he needed to stop someone.

Luo Ren shouted: “The one in front!”

Cao Yanhua’s mind barely processed this before his legs were already running toward the front. At the same time, there was the sound of tearing cloth. The foremost figure darted away along the ground. Cao Yanhua thought, “This is bad!” In desperation, summoning courage from who knows where, he suddenly let out a great shout and lunged.

Yi Wansan caught up, somewhat confused by the scene before him.

Mu Dai was breathing heavily, still clutching a piece of fabric torn from the clothing. Luo Ren pushed himself up on his arms, then pulled her to her feet.

That ground-hugging, even bulkier shadow looked like a small hill in the darkness, or a vehicle stuck due to excessive friction.

Cao Yanhua was indeed heavy.

Much heavier than Mu Dai.

Yi Wansan jogged back to the house and turned on the lights using the switch he found with his flashlight.

The cramped, disorderly room emitted a pungent, moldy smell from bedding that probably hadn’t been aired in years. Half the bed was piled with bundles of clothes, some already opened.

Yi Wansan pulled out a few pieces of binding rope and hurried back to the rice field, handing them to Luo Ren.

Luo Ren took them and began tying. He first bound the hands behind the back, pulling the rope tight, then moved to loop it around the neck. He suddenly hesitated, glanced quickly at Mu Dai, then redirected the rope to bind the feet instead. He worked swiftly, tying knots with precision and force. Yi Wansan heard Xiang Shilan groan and thought to himself: That must hurt terribly.

Strangely, Xiang Shilan made no sound at all. Was she really this tough?

After the binding was complete, Luo Ren stood up. With Cao Yanhua’s help, they carried Xiang Shilan back to the house.

In the bright light, Mu Dai finally got a close look at her. Luo Ren asked softly: “Is it her?”

Mu Dai didn’t know whether to nod or shake her head. She couldn’t recognize her.

Xiang Shilan was about forty years old. Perhaps due to her hard life, signs of aging were already apparent, though her features still retained a certain fineness.

Beyond that, she wasn’t particularly remarkable, resembling any middle-aged woman one might pass on the street.

Luo Ren’s gaze lingered on Xiang Shilan’s chest. When she breathed, the movement of her clothes there was indeed strange—but without Mu Dai’s earlier warning, this oddity wouldn’t have been easily noticed.

He glanced at Mu Dai, who said softly: “Let me do it.”

That seemed best. Luo Ren pulled out his knife and handed it to her, signaling Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan to turn around.

Firstly, it was a matter of propriety between men and women; secondly, this was likely Mu Dai’s mother. Luo Ren found it difficult to adopt the right attitude, feeling that whatever he did would be either too harsh or too lenient.

Mu Dai gripped the knife handle, moved forward, and with her left hand, pulled up Xiang Shilan’s shirt.

How strange—after searching and thinking about this for so long, actually seeing her brought no excitement.

No sadness either.

The knife tip slipped into the seam of the clothing fabric, breaking the fibers of the thread one by one. Xiang Shilan raised her eyes to look at Mu Dai.

Her gaze was strange and cold.

Luo Ren was right—her mother had never loved her. Trying to extract love from someone who didn’t love you was itself a ridiculous and hopeless act.

Mu Dai’s grip on the knife handle tightened, then she pulled downward. With a tearing sound, the fabric split, like many taut strings snapping one after another.

At the sight before her, Mu Dai’s entire body went cold. She couldn’t help stepping back two paces.

As the torn fabric fell away, she saw Xiang Shilan’s chest cavity.

There was indeed a hole, concave, like an embedded bowl, dark red, pulsating powerfully and rhythmically like a water pump.

Thump, thump, thump.

Mu Dai’s instinct told her it was a heart.

But that wasn’t right—it contradicted known facts. Could the heart be directly visible? Was it this bizarre shape? And what about the ribcage? In biology class, teachers explained that human ribs spread like an umbrella on both sides, protecting the delicate internal organs.

Mu Dai’s head buzzed. She heard Cao Yanhua ask impatiently, “Junior Master, can we turn around? Can we look?”

She didn’t answer, feeling breathless. After a while, she heard Cao Yanhua stumble against a chair. Yi Wansan cursed under his breath while Luo Ren stepped forward to examine the cavity carefully.

Xiang Shilan laughed coldly, twisting her neck left and right as if in a spasm.

Luo Ren extended his hand toward Mu Dai: “The knife.”

Mu Dai handed it over reflexively. Luo Ren sheathed the blade, turned it around, and used the handle to probe around her chest.

She felt Luo Ren draw in a sharp breath.

Mu Dai asked: “What is it?”

Luo Ren replied: “It seems… the entire internal structure of her chest cavity has changed.”

Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan were somewhat horrified, listening from a distance.

Luo Ren said, “This is just my guess, but the heart seems to have changed shape, from a fist to this inverted cavity. The chest is flattened. The ribs exist on both sides but not in the middle, as if they’ve been rearranged at certain angles to avoid the heart area. Also, the heart isn’t exposed—it’s covered with skin, but the skin is almost transparent.”

Cao Yanhua’s mouth hung half-open, unable to speak for a long while. Yi Wansan asked: “Is she still human?”

Luo Ren couldn’t answer. All her organs should still be there, but unlike others, they had changed in shape and position.

Clothed, she probably looked no different from ordinary people.

Luo Ren added, “This change in chest cavity structure affects and indirectly compresses the vocal cords, so she probably can’t speak.”

Cao Yanhua laughed nervously: “She influences so many people, making them tell blatant lies, yet she can’t speak?”