After lunch, Zheng Mingshan dragged Cao Yanhua away for a lecture.

Meihua Jiuniang had probably noticed the friendly relationship between Mu Dai and Cao Yanhua, feeling that this little disciple wasn’t doing well in the “establishing authority” department, and had specifically instructed Zheng Mingshan to play the bad cop.

There were indeed many rules and regulations. Cao Yanhua was flustered, taking notes continuously in a small notebook. Every so often, Zheng Mingshan would spring a closed-book quiz on him, like a surprise classroom test. Luo Ren watched from the side, unable to hold back his laughter.

Here it came again.

“What should a disciple do before the Master retires for the night?”

“Pre… prepare the bed, lay… lay out the blanket.”

“When a disciple returns from outside, what’s the first thing they should do upon seeing the Master?”

“Offer… offer disciple’s tea.”

…

These were all old-fashioned rules and dogmas. Meihua Jiuniang was a product of that era, and given her advanced age, disciples would naturally accommodate her. But these rules, by the time they reached Mu Dai, would likely not be continued—how could she have the patience to leisurely savor a cup of tea?

Zheng Mingshan was the same. Though he put on a great show of disciplining Cao Yanhua, it was mostly for Meihua Jiuniang’s benefit.

Thinking of Meihua Jiuniang, Luo Ren looked back toward her room. Mu Dai had just opened the door and came out, leaning against a pillar under the eaves, yawning.

Luo Ren couldn’t help smiling and got up to go to her.

She hadn’t slept well last night, and had risen early to prepare that disciple’s tea. After maintaining her spirits for so long, she was finally exhausted. The faint darkness around her eyes made one’s heart ache.

Luo Ren asked her, “Where’s Master?”

“She’s gone to sleep. She told me to sleep too, saying she’ll have many tasks for me tonight.”

This Meihua Jiuniang was truly strange, not settling matters in broad daylight but insisting on waiting until the dark of night.

However, Luo Ren didn’t feel it was his place to comment on Mu Dai’s sect affairs.

Luo Ren escorted Mu Dai back to her room. Compared to the simplicity of the side rooms, her actual quarters were like those of a wealthy household. Even her bed was a Hui-style “full-topped bed” with wooden panels completely enclosing the top, bottom, left wall, right wall, and back wall. The carvings were exquisite, and with a gold-threaded curtain in front, it looked like a small independent house.

Mu Dai climbed in, pulled up the blanket, and let out a long sigh, murmuring just one word: “Tired.”

Luo Ren bent down to tuck in the corner of her blanket and said, “Mu Dai, I should go now.”

Her eyes suddenly snapped open, glaring at him fiercely. Luo Ren smiled helplessly. After a while, Mu Dai, seemingly upset, abruptly threw aside the blanket, knelt up, and embraced him, her head pressed against his chest, saying nothing.

Luo Ren lowered his head to kiss the top of her head. “Didn’t we agree?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Mu Dai, that trick won’t work on me.”

“Tomorrow.”

“No cheating. Today or tomorrow, there’s not much difference…”

“Tomorrow.”

The little girl’s words were firm, her head pressing painfully against his chest, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Luo Ren had no choice. “Fine, tomorrow. Get some good sleep.”

Mu Dai’s lips finally curved into a faint smile. She obediently lay back down, removing the hair tie from her ponytail. Her long, glossy black hair spread out. Luo Ren sat on the edge of the bed, helping her smooth out her hair. It took a while before she closed her eyes, her breathing shallow, her eyelashes quivering.

Tomorrow.

When would he see her again? He had promised to stay alive for her at all costs, but what if he couldn’t keep that promise? If he couldn’t return, if he died, would she cry?

Luo Ren suddenly felt distressed. After a moment, he took out his phone and quietly took a photo of her.

Opening the photo to look at it, she was truly beautiful—such a delicate, fine profile, with eyelashes that seemed countable one by one.

Just as he was absorbed in looking, Mu Dai suddenly opened her eyes. “Luo Xiaodao, what are you secretly photographing?”

Luo Ren didn’t answer, letting her take the phone to look.

She lay on the bed, propping her chin in her hand as she looked for a while, then raised her face to him. “Luo Xiaodao, haven’t you taken photos of me before?”

Nonsense, when did I ever take photos of you?

“What if I find them? Then what?” Her eyes darted around. “Postpone to the day after tomorrow?”

Luo Ren laughed, then, after a pause, said softly, “Stop fooling around.”

Mu Dai lowered her head, her fingertips sliding through the photos one by one, finally stopping on one photo and holding the phone up to him.

This was…

Luo Ren frowned slightly, then quickly remembered. This was Chongqing, with a misty riverside view. He had been photographing the cable car passing on the opposite side.

Was there a problem?

Mu Dai urged him, “Zoom in.”

Zoom in? Luo Ren hesitated, then enlarged the photo.

Mu Dai prompted, “Do you see it?”

“See what? The big cable car cabin with many people?”

Mu Dai was exasperated. Usually, he was so sharp, but why did he become so dense at crucial moments?

She took back the phone, zoomed in further and further, angrily pointing at the barely discernible figure of herself wearing an elephant-head T-shirt. “Me, it’s me!”

Before she could finish speaking, Luo Ren laughed softly and embraced her from behind, burying his head in the crook of her neck, gently biting her earlobe.

Mu Dai blushed, awkwardly setting down the phone. So he had recognized her all along.

She tried to make conversation. “Cao Pangpang was there at the time, right next to me. Did you see him?”

Luo Ren made an affirmative sound but said nothing more, his gaze lingering on the photo for a long time.

He thought: I must come back, I must return.

That night, Misty Town finally revealed its true appearance.

Fog began to rise shortly after 10 PM. At first, it was extremely thin, just wispy strands, like willow catkins floating in the night sky.

Gradually, it grew thicker. The naked eye couldn’t discern any difference, but occasionally, when looking outside, everything seemed covered with a layer of gauze, hazy.

Before bed, Zheng Mingshan came by once, saying that tonight there would be a heavy fog because the day had been clear. According to Misty Town’s rules, the clearer the day, the heavier the fog at night.

He also told Luo Ren that at midnight, the dense fog would be all-encompassing. If you opened your door, you could see the mist floating into the room, surpassing even the smoke effects in TV shows and movies.

Since Meihua Jiuniang would be giving Mu Dai important instructions that night, Luo Ren realized he wouldn’t have a chance to see Mu Dai. He went to bed early but couldn’t sleep—he kept hearing Cao Yanhua’s rapid footsteps at the door, running out, running back, running out, and running back again.

Luo Ren couldn’t stand it anymore. He put on his clothes and got up, finally intercepting Cao Yanhua during one of his trips. “What are you running around for?”

Cao Yanhua responded in an affected manner, “Putting knowledge into practice.”

“Senior Brother taught me so many rules this afternoon, I have to follow them, right? Even if I don’t do it later, I’ve just learned it while it’s fresh—I should at least pretend to be enthusiastic, right?”

—What should a disciple do before the Master retires for the night?

—Pre… prepare the bed, lay… lay out the blanket.

Cao Yanhua was concerned about preparing Mu Dai’s bed and had gone to check several times already. He wanted to show off his skills while Mu Dai was away seeing Meihua Jiuniang, so that when Little Master returned to her room, she would be moved—but he didn’t expect Mu Dai to still be in her room.

Luo Ren asked curiously, “Wasn’t she supposed to go discuss matters with Meihua Jiuniang after dinner?”

Cao Yanhua wasn’t sure either. “My Little Master has gone several times already, but it seems Grand Master told her to wait, saying the time wasn’t right yet. She has no choice but to wait and doesn’t dare leave.”

…

Since he wanted to do something nice for Mu Dai, the more the better. Luo Ren decided to let him be.

Back in his room, unexpectedly, he received a call from Shen Gun.

He asked abruptly, “Little Radish, have you found that ‘Below Cloud Ridge, Guansi Pailou’ yet?”

Luo Ren was momentarily speechless.

Not only had he not found it, but in these past few days, he had almost forgotten about it entirely.

Fortunately, he was quick to react and immediately tossed the ball back. “Have you found it?”

Shen Gun said, “I’ve done a bit of research, just a little research.”

Speaking so modestly about “just a little,” yet his tone was proud. Luo Ren’s heart stirred, suspecting that Shen Gun might have had a breakthrough.

“Cloud Ridge has three possible interpretations. First, it could be a mountain range that reaches into the clouds; second, there’s a Cloud Ridge Town in Anhui Province; third, it’s the snow mountain in northwestern Yunnan, which is the watershed between the Lancang and Jinsha Rivers, with the main peak being Jade Dragon Mountain.”

Jade Dragon? Isn’t that Lijiang?

“I think the third option is most likely, but Cloud Ridge it’s a mountain range that extends very far. Think about it—a watershed between two great rivers, as long as the rivers are, that’s how far Cloud Ridge could extend. And mountain ranges have branches. So I think ‘Below Cloud Ridge’ doesn’t necessarily mean Lijiang, but rather a very, very large area.”

Luo Ren agreed. “So these two phrases are a positioning. ‘Below Cloud Ridge’ defines a general area, while ‘Guansi Pailou’ is the actual location point.”

Shen Gun said, “This ‘Guansi Pailou’—if this ‘si’ refers to ‘four spans,’ then it would be a very unusual pailou.”

“Why?”

Shen Gun made a “hmph” sound. Luo Ren’s “why” was within his expectations.

“Little Radish, haven’t you read many books? Do you know what a pailou is? A pailou is a traditional structure; they existed as early as the Zhou Dynasty and were used for commemoration and honoring in ancient times.”

“Common pailou forms include one span with two pillars, three spans with four pillars, or five spans with six pillars. What does this mean? Imagine the layout—if it’s one span, aren’t there two pillars on either side? If it’s three spans, don’t you need four pillars to divide them?”

Luo Ren roughly understood. “So if it’s a ‘si pailou,’ it means four spans with five pillars?”

Shen Gun laughed triumphantly. “Little Radish, I knew you’d say four spans. You uncultured person. Didn’t you notice that the pailou spans I mentioned are all odd numbers?”

Indeed, they were—one span with two pillars, three spans with four pillars, five spans with six pillars. The spans were all odd numbers.

Shen Gun was very pleased with himself. “This brings us to building aesthetics. In our ancient architecture, not only did we emphasize symmetry, but we also emphasized a prominent center. Odd numbers of spans, like one, three, or five, were designed to highlight the central span, which would always be made larger and more ornate.”

Luo Ren understood.

No wonder pailous with four spans were rare. With even-numbered spans, you couldn’t distinguish primary from secondary.

Shen Gun concluded, “So, if there’s such an unusual pailou in the Cloud Ridge area, it would be easy to find. I’ve already asked an old friend to help with the search. In just these few days, wait for it, there will be news.”

By the end, he was almost exuberant. When hanging up, he was just short of blowing a kiss.

Luo Ren looked at his phone and smiled bitterly.

How strange—there was a breakthrough in tracing the death note, yet he felt no excitement.

Was it because of Cheetah?

If Cheetah were tracking him, they would first trace him to Lijiang. Although he had commissioned Qingmu to provide secret protection, he was still worried about Hongsha and Yi Wansan. He hoped… nothing would go wrong.

Regarding who would wrap clear tape around Cao Jiefang’s beak—this was something that would hurt a small animal’s feelings. Yi Wansan and Yan Hongsha pushed the responsibility back and forth, neither willing to do it.

So they played rock-paper-scissors.

Five minutes later, Yan Hongsha, holding clear tape, walked towards Cao Jiefang in the corner of the courtyard.

Tonight, Cao Jiefang seemed somewhat melancholy. Perhaps the liveliness of the bar had triggered its homesickness, as it appeared downcast.

Yan Hongsha approached Cao Jiefang with a forced smile.

Slowly, she pulled out the tape with a “zhi-la, zhi-la” sound, trying to get on Cao Jiefang’s good side. “Jiefang, this is for your good. Our Uncle Zhang is so desperate to eat chicken that he’s going crazy. If you crow again tonight, not even the gods can save you.”

Cao Jiefang warily eyed the clear tape in Yan Hongsha’s hand.

Yan Hongsha continued her nonsense. “Jiefang, this is good stuff, just like a lip mask. Wear it for one night, and I guarantee you’ll stand out from the crowd…”

Seizing the opportunity, she suddenly wrapped the tape around Cao Jiefang’s beak.

If Cao Jiefang had allowed her to wrap it, it would truly have betrayed its flamboyant, liberated personality.

It spread its wings and let out a forceful “co… co… co,” flapping wildly and flying off Yan Hongsha’s shoulder.

You little thing! I can’t control you! Yan Hongsha finally tore off her mask of hypocrisy, becoming murderous. She grabbed a broom from the courtyard and chased after the chicken.

Cao Jiefang fought while retreating and was soon cornered by Yan Hongsha in an alley one street away. Yan Hongsha rolled up her sleeves, pointed at it, and commanded, “Stand still! Don’t move!”

Cao Jiefang dropped his head and stood still.

Yan Hongsha said, “That’s more like it.”

She carefully approached, took aim, and just as she was about to pounce, Cao Jiefang suddenly flapped its wings, flew up, kicked off from the top of her head, and quickly disappeared at the alley entrance.

It had even learned to confuse the enemy! And it dared to step on her head! Yan Hongsha was nearly furious.

Cao Jiefang, don’t you dare come back!

She clutched the clear tape and headed back. Just as she exited the alley, she suddenly froze.

A man of about thirty was leaning against the wall. He was thin but not weak, with sharp eyes and a gloomy expression. About a head taller than her, he was looking at her coldly.

In his hand, he held a chicken.

It was Cao Jiefang. The man had his wings pinned, and he had lost his earlier bravado. It seemed resigned, no longer struggling, its small eyes filled with a despondent confusion.

What was going on? Yan Hongsha felt uneasy.

The man glanced at her and stiffly thrust Cao Jiefang toward her.

Cao Yanhua finally returned.

This time, his steps were light, and he was humming a tune. Surprisingly, he didn’t go back to his room but pushed open the door and entered Luo Ren’s room. Pulling the light cord, he grinned slyly at Luo Ren, who was frowning at the sudden brightness.

He said, “Brother Luo, you’re truly a romantic person.”

It was random and baffling. Luo Ren didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Cao Yanhua winked at him and said, “My Little Master is very happy.”

He turned to leave after speaking, but poked his head back in. “Brother Luo, I put it by Little Master’s pillow.”

What nonsense was this? Luo Ren sat up in bed. “Come back here!”

Cao Yanhua said, “I won’t tell anyone, Brother Luo.”

“What did you put by her pillow?”

Cao Yanhua blinked. “Love.”

Had Cao Yanhua gone mad?

Luo Ren sat on the bed, completely puzzled. The door wasn’t closed properly, and mist gradually seeped into the room.

Love?

Cao Yanhua hummed a tune, wiggling his backside as he took off his pants. He had only half-removed them when the door was suddenly thrown open. Luo Ren strode in and, before Cao Yanhua could react, grabbed him by the collar.

“What did you put by Mu Dai’s pillow?”

Cao Yanhua struggled to breathe, both hands clutching the edge of his pants, stuttering, “The… the flowers you sent.”

“What flowers did I send?”

“Ro… roses.”