Yan Hongsha returned to Lijiang in low spirits.

She sought Huo Zihong for consultation. The two sat in a small corner of the bar, both with solemn expressions. Yi Wansan deliberately found an excuse to pass by and overheard Yan Hongsha asking, “Do I have to repay everything? What if selling the house isn’t enough?”

When Yi Wansan returned, Cao Yanhua was craning his neck to look in their direction, eagerly seeking information: “How is it? How is it?”

Yi Wansan said, “Life is unpredictable. Not long ago, she was a rich lady, and now everything has collapsed. Of course, her uncle and grandfather didn’t do anything honorable either.”

Cao Yanhua said, “It was her uncle who took on all that debt. It’s too unfair for my little sister Hongsha to bear such debts. If we’re talking about karma, it should fall on old man Yan’s head.”

Yi Wansan didn’t see it that way: “Previous generations plant trees, later generations enjoy the shade. The rich lady enjoyed the shade for so long; it’s only natural that she now bears some joint responsibility.”

Cao Yanhua glared at him.

The conversation on the other side seemed to be wrapping up. Yan Hongsha came over with her head hanging low.

Cao Yanhua said, “Sister Hongsha, don’t be discouraged. You have us. If there’s a bowl of rice, there will be a spoonful of soup for you. We won’t let you starve. If you get arrested, we’ll find a way to gather money and bail you out.”

He listed reasons for hope: “Your family mansion should be worth a considerable amount. If that’s not enough, I’ll go with you to Sizhai. Don’t forget, we still have all those gemstones there. If that still doesn’t work, there’s also real estate!”

He waved his hand, pointing directly toward Phoenix Tower.

Yan Hongsha said, “I’m not troubled. Too many things have happened lately. I just feel… kind of dispirited.”

She sat down at the table closest to the bar counter, laid her head down, her forehead against the tabletop, her braided hair stubbornly sticking up.

Yi Wansan stared at her, and after a while, he suddenly felt a twinge of sympathy.

Thinking about it, Red Sand seemed to have the worst luck.

He was just a street thug who could get by anywhere as long as he had food to eat and a place to sleep—it didn’t matter. Fat Cao was similar, with the resilience of a hardened rogue. Luo Ren was completely inhuman—after all that had happened, he had never shown panic. As for the little boss lady, although she somehow had multiple personalities, at least she had people who cared for and doted on her…

Upon closer reflection, Hongsha was slightly younger than Mu Dai. Having lived without worries until now, she suddenly lost her family one after another, learned the shameful truth about her family’s wealth, had her fortune reclaimed, and was left all alone. Yet she hadn’t cried, made a fuss, or attempted suicide, and was still thinking about clearing the debts…

Yi Wansan suddenly felt quite admiring of her.

He prepared a cup of coffee with latte art forming a big smile.

He brought it over to her and said, “It’s on me.”

Yan Hongsha looked up, eyeing him suspiciously, then picked up the small spoon and stirred the coffee repeatedly: “Why are you being so nice? You didn’t put anything in it, did you? I’ll probably get diarrhea after drinking this…”

Damn it!

Cao Yanhua coldly added salt to the wound from the side: “Brother Sansan, your usual evil face is so obvious to everyone. Why are you pretending to be a caring, warm guy now? Unsolicited favors must come with ulterior motives…”

Damn, was Fat Cao trying to die?!

Yi Wansan grabbed a sugar packet and threw it at Cao Yanhua. He dodged quickly, ducking his head, and the sugar packet flew past his crown and hit a painting hanging on the wall.

Cao Yanhua marveled at his reaction speed: it was truly mind following body! It seemed the basic skills he had been practicing these days hadn’t been in vain.

He was gloating, about to taunt Yi Wansan further, when he suddenly realized that Yi Wansan wasn’t looking at him at all.

He was frowning, staring at the painting the sugar packet had hit, then stood up and walked to the painting to examine it closely.

Yan Hongsha was puzzled and silently mouthed to Cao Yanhua: What’s he doing?

Cao Yanhua was equally confused.

Was there something special about that painting?

On the side wall of the bar, to enhance the ambiance, a few special paintings were sparsely hung. This wasn’t unusual; in fact, “Gather and Scatter as Fate Decrees” had specially designated a wall for customers to leave messages and graffiti.

That painting was a replica, a Japanese ukiyo-e, Hokusai’s “The Great Wave off Kanagawa.”

The image was simple: fishing boats positioned in the belly of a giant wave, with serene Mount Fuji in the distance.

Cao Yanhua went over, looking at Yi Wansan with a puzzled expression. Yan Hongsha felt a bit uneasy, picked up the coffee, and took a big gulp.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She suddenly realized: oh right, Yi Wansan had thrown away the sugar packet.

But what was Yi Wansan looking at?

The door was pushed open, triggering the Dongba wind chimes hanging on it, along with Pin Ting’s crisp voice: “Brother Xiaodao!”

Yi Wansan’s whole body trembled, as if jolted awake, and he stepped back three paces.

Luo Ren had come with Pin Ting. With just one glance, he took in everything in the bar: Cao Yanhua’s confusion, Yan Hongsha’s bewilderment, and…

His gaze moved back and forth between Yi Wansan and the painting: “What are you looking at?”

Pin Ting was taken behind the bar counter by Zhang Shu to wash dishes. She was quite enthusiastic about working, humming a tune as she turned the faucet on full blast. Water splashed up, spraying her face.

She giggled, leaning on the counter and tilting her head up, wanting to show Luo Ren and the others her disheveled face.

Then her expression fell, disheartened.

No one was looking at her. They were all sitting around, examining the ukiyo-e painting that had been taken down.

Yi Wansan pointed to the left side of the painting, where the sea wave curled like a giant claw.

“Suddenly, I saw the wave turning, as if forming a vortex, spinning and spinning until it became a hole, pitch black, like an actual cavity.”

“Then I heard sounds, boom, boom, like heartbeats. And you could see the hole rising and falling, matching the rhythm of the heartbeats, as if inside the hole there was a giant heart.”

Cao Yanhua listened with extreme excitement, momentarily at a loss for words: “I told you… It’s the same as what I saw… the same…”

He pressed further: “Was there wind, Brother Sansan? There should have been wind, too.”

Wind? Yi Wansan was momentarily dazed.

Yes.

A cool, chilling wind, carrying a fishy, salty scent, was blowing directly into his face.

Mu Dai adapted quickly to her new life.

An extremely dull, yet extremely simple new life.

Her daily activities were confined to the market and the restaurant—serving dishes, handling the cash register, wiping tables, taking out trash—like a fixed orbit without the slightest deviation.

Zheng Li disliked this life. At seventeen, she was still as changeable as the wind, preferring to chase after passion and novelty. The restaurant life, however, was like an old-fashioned frame, confining her within horizontal and vertical bars, always carrying an unpleasant, greasy smell.

More than once, she asked Mu Dai dejectedly: “Sister Mu Mu, how can you stand it here?”

What’s one person’s bear paw is another’s poison. Mu Dai felt that this kind of life was the best for her current self.

If she had continued to stay by Hong Yi’s side, by Luo Ren’s side, the past would have been inescapable, and even the air would have been oppressive.

Here, no one knew her. Slowness replaced intensity. She ate when hungry, slept when tired, did what she liked, and didn’t do what she disliked. She could quiet down and seriously think about some things.

Dr. He had told her many things, essentially: Mu Dai, you’re sick, you have three personalities, you’re confused now, you need treatment, you need to try new methods.

Mu Dai didn’t feel sick. She even psychologically resisted learning about various analyses and explanations regarding personalities.

She felt that the root of the problem might be that she had three selves inside her body, and she simply hadn’t controlled them.

Like three little demons causing mischief, blurring her true self, and over time, even her family, friends, and lover didn’t know what she was really like.

Why hadn’t she controlled them? Probably because she was timid, cowardly, avoidant, letting things be, burying her head in the sand. When everything went dark before her eyes, she thought the world had stopped turning.

It was like a big mansion where, if the master didn’t take charge, the subordinates would become increasingly insolent. Money, people—everything would be a chaotic mess, just as described in novels: gradually showing signs of decline.

So now, she would step forward to manage, set things right, establish authority, and if necessary, make an example of one to warn a hundred.

This feeling was novel. It was as if she had ascended to a position of power, issuing orders to the many shadowy versions of herself in the darkness.

Whether it was three personalities or thirty, they all had to listen to her.

A mental illness, after all, was nothing more than mental knots—one knot after another, twisting her life until it was unrecognizable.

No matter. Starting from the very beginning, she would untangle them one by one, gradually restoring herself to her original state.

She didn’t need Dr. He, didn’t need new therapies, and didn’t need various medications.

She was her own medicine. She was her own best doctor.

Zheng Shuiyu gradually began to like Mu Dai. Bosses always appreciate diligent workers: Mu Dai was quick and efficient, neither lazy nor dawdling. During downtime, she would sit quietly at the table near the door, with sunlight streaming through the glass door, illuminating her face.

Zheng Shuiyu chatted with her, asking, “How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Mu Dai said, “Yes, I do.”

This “Yes, I do” greatly surprised Zheng Shuiyu. Like all curious middle-aged women, she had wanted to follow up with: “If not, auntie can introduce you to someone.”

Yet the answer was “Yes, I do.”

“How does he look? Is he handsome?”

Mu Dai lowered her head, repeatedly wiping one side of the table with a cloth, her lips revealing a faint smile: “He’s handsome.”

“Is his family wealthy?”

Mu Dai thought for a moment: “I suppose so.”

“Is he good to you?”

“Yes.”

Zheng Shuiyu was somewhat puzzled: “Then how could he let a young woman like you go out to work in such a small place?”

Mu Dai said, “He’s busy.”

She spoke with conviction. Zheng Shuiyu couldn’t quite understand her.

The next moment, Mu Dai entered the back kitchen. Zheng Shuiyu’s husband, He Qiang, was the head chef. He had decent knife skills and was cutting potatoes into strips.

He taught Mu Dai: “Keep your fingers curled, with the back of your hand against the blade. This way, you won’t cut yourself. The knife should move quickly; when it’s fast enough, it’s just a flash of light…”

In reality, He Qiang was far from that level of skill; he was just showing off in front of the young girl.

Mu Dai said, “Let me try.”

She made a few experimental cuts, then her hand gradually sped up. Chop, chop, chop, chop—the blade striking the cutting board created a fast-paced rhythm like music.

After finishing one potato, she started on another. The cutting board was piled up with fine, pale yellow potato strips, an elegant work of art.

He Qiang watched with his mouth agape. Zheng Shuiyu and Zheng Li were attracted by the sound and peeked in through the kitchen door.

When they reached out to check, the basin was empty—all the potatoes had been cut.

Mu Dai picked up the knife and forcefully threw it down at the cutting board. The edge of the cleaver embedded into the wooden board, standing firmly with a resonant sound like the final strong note in a piece of music.

Then she turned, facing the three people with their mouths hanging open. She curtseyed, bowed her head, lifted her apron slightly, like a ballet swan taking a bow.

Giggling, she went out, feeling content and at ease.

Zheng Shuiyu felt that this waitress was truly worth hiring.

Next month, she might give Mu Dai a raise, lest her high ambitions lead her to be poached by someone else.

That evening, after dinner service had ended but before the late-night snack hours began, there was a lull.

Mu Dai sat at the restaurant entrance, looking at the red public telephone booth across the street.

Then she took paper and pen, leaned on the table writing something. When she finished, she looked up at Zheng Li, waving her over.

Zheng Li liked her without reason, always following her around eagerly, running over to her.

Mu Dai said, “Do you have any money? Help me with something.”

She wanted to make a phone call, but having just started work, she hadn’t yet received an advance on her wages. Her pocket contained only two ten-cent coins.

Zheng Li quickly nodded: “Yes!”

The two squeezed into the telephone booth. Mu Dai turned and closed the door. After Zheng Li inserted the coins, she slowly dialed a string of numbers. While waiting, she handed the note to Zheng Li, saying, “Read this.”

By the street lights and various colorful lights from the alley, Zheng Li could make out the line of text. She didn’t quite understand and looked at Mu Dai, wanting to ask: Why?

Mu Dai leaned against the glass of the telephone booth, her head slightly tilted. Her checkered shirt had rolled-up sleeves, revealing her fair arms. She held her finger vertically against her lips, signaling Zheng Li not to say much.

Her gaze was gentle and serene. Her long hair swept across her shoulders, illuminated by the light from behind, creating a soft halo.

Zheng Li thought that if she were a man, she would almost fall in love with her.

The call connected, and a deep male voice came from the other end: “Hello?”

Zheng Li started, quickly held up the note, and in her non-standard Mandarin, stammered as she read:

“Hello, our company specializes in various real estate properties, with favorable commission rates and excellent service. We are your premier choice for property investment…”

The call was hung up.

Zheng Li held the note, somewhat at a loss. Mu Dai kept her head down, continuously smiling.

After a while, she said softly, “He has no patience.”

After saying this, she pushed the door open and walked toward the restaurant with light steps.

Zheng Li followed closely behind, asking persistently: “Sister Mu Mu, is he your enemy? Are you deliberately calling to mess with him?”

Shouting sounds came from the end of the alley. Mu Dai turned her head to look. A group of people who looked like hooligans were carrying boxes of beer, heading toward the restaurant with lots of noise. Some had their chests and backs exposed, others wore loose clothes. They were all young, probably only eighteen or nineteen years old.

Mu Dai said, “Hurry up, the late-night food service is about to start.”