Following Luo Ren’s instructions, Cao Yanhua called Yan Hongsha, asking her to come as quickly as possible.

Even if they couldn’t get a single word from Xiang Shilan, taking away the fourth Murder Slip would be a complete success. Based on their previous experience, forcing out the Murder Slip with the blood of five people was far more reliable than making Xiang Shilan “fake her death.”

Mu Dai rummaged through the house, trying to find objects or traces that might evoke memories.

But there was nothing—absolutely nothing. She sighed and walked outside, leaning against the wall as she sat down.

Cao Yanhua jogged away with his flashlight bobbing, going to the main road to meet Yan Hongsha.

Mu Dai heard Yi Wansan asking Luo Ren questions.

—Is someone like her still human?

—If the Murder Slip leaves her body, will she die?

—After the Murder Slip departs, will her body remain as it is now, or will it return to normal?

After a moment of silence, Luo Ren said, “Xiang Shilan’s current condition is somewhat like evolution.”

Evolution? Mu Dai raised her head to look at Luo Ren.

He said, “Try to recall your middle school history lessons about the evolution from ape to human. At first, there was long body hair, quadrupedal movement, and small brain capacity. Then gradually, upright walking developed, the brain grew larger and rounder, and primitive canine teeth shortened—changes occurred in both external appearance and internal structure.”

Yi Wansan made a perfunctory sound of agreement. Though he had never attended formal school, he was familiar with this common knowledge.

“This evolution is still happening. There’s a theory that in the future, when technology develops to a certain level and humans no longer need to walk or labor, our limbs may gradually atrophy while our brains become increasingly advanced. In other words, organs you use frequently and need to strengthen will become stronger, while unused organs will disappear.”

At this point, Luo Ren paused, suddenly thinking of Qingmu.

Qingmu had once told him about his first surgery as a child—an appendectomy. Luo Ren remembered asking if he had developed appendicitis at such a young age.

Qingmu had answered: “No, since the appendix has no major function and can be life-threatening if it becomes inflamed, many Japanese people, like me, choose to have it removed at a young age.”

If something has no use when kept and causes no harm when removed, would it eventually disappear naturally?

Luo Ren said, “I’m not entirely clear on the principles behind Xiang Shilan’s condition. But evidently, the power she uses to influence people comes from her heart. Mu Dai saw it earlier through the thermal imaging device—that so-called ‘wind’ is a force originating from her heart.”

So among all her organs, her heart needed to be extremely powerful, forcing other organs to shift position for it.

Yi Wansan murmured, “Fortunately, she couldn’t influence us. Otherwise, she might never have been caught.”

Mu Dai said, “If she had established herself more thoroughly and for longer, perhaps people around here wouldn’t even know of her existence.”

This statement was somewhat convoluted. Luo Ren thought for a good while before understanding.

Mu Dai was right. Xiang Shilan could influence those around her, making herself a visual blind spot. That is, despite living in the vicinity, moving about in front of people daily, when asked about her, everyone would respond in confusion: “No, I’ve never seen such a person. No impression at all.”

At that point, she would be a non-invisible “invisible person.”

Luo Ren felt grateful. So far, although each Murder Slip was more insidious and unpredictable than the last, they all still had flaws.

But…

There were still three more.

Where were they? Were they operating independently or in concert? What was their purpose? Why harm people? Why were they scattered far and wide rather than gathered together?

Luo Ren felt his brain was insufficient for these questions.

Looking up, he saw flashlight beams circling in the distance on the main road—probably Cao Yanhua meeting Yan Hongsha.

Luo Ren suddenly said, “I’ve always had a question.”

It was rare for him to express uncertainty, so both Yi Wansan and Mu Dai looked at him.

Luo Ren said, “According to legend, when Laozi passed through Hangu Pass, the official Yin Xi stopped him, obtaining the ‘Dao De Jing.’ Laozi was also asked to draw the malevolent forces into seven Murder Slips, sealing them with the Phoenix Lock.”

Yes, but what was strange about that? This story, these details—each of them could recite it by heart.

“Such a story has been passed down in such detail. Yet regarding what the Murder Slips are, why they cause harm, and how to counter them—is there not a single record?”

Yi Wansan glanced at him sideways, his tone somewhat teasing: “It sounds like you think there should be some ancient text documenting how to deal with the Murder Slips.”

Luo Ren replied: “That’s exactly what I hope for.”

Yan Hongsha arrived with Cao Yanhua, both out of breath from running.

She carried a plastic bag from the hospital, which she tossed toward Luo Ren as she approached. He caught it deftly.

Good—alcohol, cotton balls, tubing, tweezers, and a row of disposable syringes and needles.

Yan Hongsha complained: “People don’t readily sell these things. I had to sweet-talk them endlessly and slip them extra money…”

As she spoke, she furtively peered into the house. On the way over, Cao Yanhua had hurriedly explained the key points, but his rushed explanation was incomplete, leaving her both curious and anxious.

Turning back, she saw that Mu Dai had already rolled up her sleeve, letting Luo Ren draw her blood.

She rolled up her sleeve, one after another.

Five vials of blood were injected into a sterilized bottle, mixed, then drawn into a syringe.

Everyone entered the house and closed the door. Without being told, Cao Yanhua found a bucket, filled it with water, and placed it nearby, ready for use. Though the windows were all broken, Yi Wansan still dutifully pulled all the curtains closed.

Luo Ren signaled Yan Hongsha to help roll up Xiang Shilan’s sleeve. Perhaps due to her long-term crawling, her forearms were thick and felt iron-hard when pressed, resembling the muscle on a thigh.

The fine needle penetrated her skin. This slight pain was nothing, of course. Xiang Shilan glared with bulging eyes, making hissing sounds through her nose.

Luo Ren paused, saying to Mu Dai, “Find a cloth to gag her.”

Mu Dai hesitated, reflexively answering: “She can’t speak.”

“She can’t speak now, but it’s hard to say what will happen after she recovers. If she screams in agony and someone passing by hears, it will be troublesome.”

Mu Dai had no choice but to find a cloth, roll it up, and stuff it into Xiang Shilan’s mouth.

Luo Ren pushed the plunger of the syringe down.

At first, nothing happened. Xiang Shilan’s face bore what seemed like a cold smile, her eyeballs rolling fiercely as she looked at each person.

Then, the arm that had received the injection suddenly jerked as if in a spasm.

The convulsions never stopped, climbing up to her shoulder, then traveling down to her chest cavity.

Luo Ren had said earlier that the heart wasn’t exposed but covered with transparent skin. Now they could finally see countless blood filaments, fine as hair, covering the heart’s surface like the densest spider web in motion.

Xiang Shilan’s facial expression changed drastically. Her body thrashed uncontrollably in all directions as her heart began to beat violently. The blood filaments gradually diffused into a blood mist.

Mu Dai felt that if she continued watching, her heart might burst.

She tried to look away, exhaling deeply. With a crash, Xiang Shilan’s violent struggles knocked her off the chair.

Then, Luo Ren said in a deep voice: “It’s done.”

Had the Murder Slip been removed? Mu Dai’s peripheral vision caught the basin of water Cao Yanhua had prepared. The water’s surface was constantly rippling, with a faint blood color slowly diffusing.

Yi Wansan suddenly exclaimed: “Look at her chest!”

Xiang Shilan was rolling violently on the floor. The concave hole in her chest was gradually flattening.

Cao Yanhua quickly carried the water to the other side of the room, fearing Xiang Shilan might kick it over during her struggles.

Luo Ren’s earlier concern was justified. Despite the cloth stuffed in her mouth, Mu Dai could hear Xiang Shilan’s heart-wrenching sounds escaping through the gaps in the wadded cloth.

While the Murder Slip’s alteration of her bodily organs might have been a slow, gradual change over the years, the restoration was instantaneous and brutal. Bones that had been moved aside had to twist back into place, displaced organs had to reoccupy their positions.

What was it like? Perhaps like the story she had heard as a child—Sun Wukong crawling into Princess Iron Fan’s stomach, punching and kicking in all directions. The pain could be no worse than this.

Luo Ren caught Yan Hongsha’s eye, who understood immediately. She came over, took Mu Dai’s hand, and said: “Let’s go outside.”

Opening the door, the air was indeed fresher than inside, but with all the windows broken, the muffled groans still reached their ears.

Yan Hongsha led her away, and they sat down on the electric tricycle.

She asked: “Are you alright?”

Mu Dai smiled, pointing towards the house: “That’s my mother in there.”

“Hongsha, do you remember your mother? Do you miss her?”

Yan Hongsha shook her head: “My father and mother died in a car accident when I was very young. As a child, when classmates bullied and mocked me, I would think of them. Later, I got used to it and stopped caring.”

After saying this, she couldn’t help asking Mu Dai: “If she is your mother, what do you plan to do? Will you stay here and live with her?”

Mu Dai was taken aback. This possibility had never occurred to her.

Yan Hongsha continued rambling: “If you stay, it won’t be convenient for me to see you anymore, will it? Or will you bring your mother to Lijiang?”

Mu Dai countered: “Why would I stay? Why would I bring her to Lijiang?”

Yan Hongsha said, “Isn’t your mother your responsibility?”

Luo Ren pushed open the door and saw the two of them sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the tricycle’s cargo bed.

Mu Dai suddenly became agitated: “Why is she my responsibility? She abandoned me! I’ve never even lived with her!”

Yan Hongsha was startled: “Don’t get upset. I was just saying.”

She felt somewhat at a loss. Mu Dai suddenly smiled again, saying: “It’s nothing. I got a bit worked up.”

Luo Ren looked at Mu Dai’s profile, his brow furrowing slightly. After a pause, he coughed loudly.

Yan Hongsha turned to look at him.

Luo Ren said, “Come in for now.”

Xiang Shilan had been helped onto the bed by Cao Yanhua and Yi Wansan. She was drenched in sweat, her hair soaked, eyes tightly closed in unconsciousness.

They said she had fainted from the pain.

Some of the five people’s blood mixture remained in the sterilized bottle. Luo Ren said, “Considering what happened last time, injecting the blood into the water containing the Murder Slip might produce a water image.”

Mu Dai smiled: “I hope it’s not another dog-related image.”

By now, they had learned from experience. The first image to appear was always related to dogs, while the actual image hinting at the next Murder Slip’s characteristics would appear after some time, almost too obscure to interpret.

Whether it was related or not, they would know by trying.

Luo Ren tilted the sterilized bottle, pouring the remaining blood into the basin.

The crimson patch initially dyed the water red, then transformed into extremely fine blood filaments darting through the water.

Unlike the previous time when blood lines had simply arranged themselves on the water’s surface to form a picture, this time the blood filaments intertwined and wove together, rising from the bottom of the water, running horizontally, vertically, or diagonally.

Yi Wansan was the first to notice the peculiarity: “Three-dimensional?”

Luo Ren said, “Whether it’s three-dimensional or not, we still look at it the same way.”

He had a point.

The image gradually became clear, rippling in the waves, vividly close.

It was a bridal sedan chair, a wedding procession with musicians, and houses alongside.

The style of the houses was old, like the mansion they had seen before, at least a hundred years old.

On both sides were onlookers, children picking up firecrackers—a common wedding scene in Chinese folk customs.

And at the end of the wedding procession…

Mu Dai exhaled softly, asking Luo Ren, “Do you see it?”

He did. It was a dog, crouching, its eyes staring straight in the direction where the sedan chair had gone.

In the image, almost all the people were facing the bridal chair, except for the dog. Outside the crowded throng, around it was a strange void of emptiness and desolation.

Then, the dog’s eyeball suddenly moved to the side.

This unexpected movement caused even Luo Ren to feel a chill in his heart. Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha almost simultaneously stepped back, while Yi Wansan, his scalp tingling, instinctively grabbed Luo Ren’s arm.

Only Cao Yanhua didn’t move. After a moment, he turned back, trembling, and asked Luo Ren: “Brother Luo, just now that dog specifically… looked at me.”

The scene had indeed been startling, but Cao Yanhua’s reaction was both laughable and pitiable.

How could he explain this to Cao Yanhua? It was like watching a 3D movie—you feel the dog is looking at you, but in reality, all viewers feel the same way.

He said, “The dog didn’t specifically look at you. Everyone looked at it…”

Halfway through, he abruptly stopped.

Behind them came the sound of groaning and someone pushing themselves up from the bed.

Xiang Shilan was awake.

For some reason, Mu Dai was the last to turn around, even standing somewhat behind the others.

She heard Luo Ren ask Xiang Shilan, “You remember everything, don’t you?”

Xiang Shilan struggled laboriously, trying to sit up by supporting herself on the bed frame, but the slightest movement caused chest pain that nearly prevented her from breathing.

She lay there on the bed, her eyes now showing wariness rather than the previous ferocity and malice.

A gurgling sound came from her throat as she mumbled: “Ni… meng…”

Then she coughed, as if clearing her throat, but despite her efforts, she could only produce strange sounds before wincing in pain.

Luo Ren said softly, “She’s not used to speaking yet. It will probably take a couple of days.”

Mu Dai’s chest heaved noticeably. She suddenly pushed past Luo Ren and strode to the bedside.

She asked directly: “Do you remember, twenty years ago, you had a daughter, and later, you sent her to an orphanage?”

Xiang Shilan was taken aback, her brows furrowing suspiciously as her uncertain gaze sized up Mu Dai.

Mu Dai said, “I know it’s difficult for you to speak or nod. You only need to blink your eyes. Did you, or didn’t you?”

Xiang Shilan still didn’t answer. Mu Dai bit her lip, staring intently at her.

Luo Ren approached, saying: “Mu Dai, there’s no rush to ask about this…”

Mu Dai continued looking at Xiang Shilan: “Yes or no? Is it so hard to blink?”

Xiang Shilan’s lips twitched, revealing a stiff expression as her eyes blinked once.

Luo Ren sighed quietly to himself.

Mu Dai, however, smiled.

She said: “Oh, so that’s it. I just wanted to let you know that later, she died of illness in the orphanage.”

Luo Ren was startled. Yan Hongsha blurted out: “Mu Dai, aren’t you—”

Mu Dai didn’t wait for her to finish and seemed unwilling to listen. She turned and walked toward the door.

Luo Ren called after her: “Mu Dai!”

She ignored him, walking faster. Luo Ren had no choice but to say quietly to the others: “Stay here.”

He followed her out, seeing her slender figure moving through the rice field. Her clothing brushed against the rice stalks, making rustling sounds.

Luo Ren called again: “Mu Dai!”

This time, she stopped, then slowly turned around.

The wind blew, lifting her long hair, with a few strands caught on the swaying rice ears.

Luo Ren walked over, helping her separate her hair from the rice.

He asked: “Have you remembered something else?”

“I remembered why she sent me away.”

Luo Ren’s movement paused.

“Why?”

Mu Dai smiled.

She said: “Her customers were becoming increasingly fond of me, buying me candy, slipping me money, calling me ‘little one’.”

The wind wasn’t cold, but a shivering chill rose on Luo Ren’s arms.

Mu Dai’s gaze passed over him to the distant house that emitted light—Xiang Shilan’s house.

Those men—she couldn’t even distinguish their faces.

They would affectionately pat her head, give her money, saying, “Here, go buy some candy,” hold her in their arms, despite how much she hated and detested it.

Her mother would stand by, smiling, occasionally frowning, but never saying anything, never offending a customer.

Then came that morning.

That morning, Xiang Shilan woke her very early. She sat at the small table drinking rice porridge, with a rare fried egg in the side dish, golden and oval.

As she drank, she stole glances at the egg, her eyes quickly darting up, then swiftly back down.

Until Xiang Shilan said, “It’s for you to eat.”

She was overjoyed, grabbing it and eating immediately, her small hands becoming oily.

Later, her mother took her out, carrying several freshly washed, large peaches.

Holding Xiang Shilan’s hand, she asked: “Mama, where are we going?”

Xiang Shilan said, “To a place without bad uncles.”