Zheng Mingshan arrived near dusk. He didn’t go to Ju San Suiyuan, nor did he look for Luo Ren. He only called him on the phone.

His first words were: “I’m certain no one is tailing me, and even if there were, I’ve shaken them off. I think it might be better for me to remain in the shadows.”

This was also a tactical consideration—it’s always best to keep something in reserve and not display all your strength openly.

Luo Ren replied, “That’s fine. I’m also certain my phone isn’t being tapped. Our conversations are secure for now.”

After their exchange, a brief silence fell, then Zheng Mingshan asked, “My little martial sister won’t be in danger in the next day or two, will she?”

Who would dare make such a guarantee? Luo Ren didn’t respond.

When Zheng Mingshan received no answer, he gave a cold laugh and hung up.

Luo Ren remained frozen for a long time.

This was a topic he dared not think too deeply about. The Leopard’s cruelty could be glimpsed from what happened to Tasha. But from another perspective, the Leopard had come on this journey with such ferocity, seeking revenge—perhaps not exactly “sleeping on firewood and tasting gall,” but she must have made many calculations. Mu Dai was now an ace in her hand, and she likely wouldn’t waste Mu Dai too quickly.

In the evening, Luo Ren went to find Qing Mu. The two grabbed some alcohol and sat in the courtyard. Just as Luo Ren brought up the topic, Qing Mu immediately cut him off, saying, “Luo, you shouldn’t be thinking about your girlfriend’s situation right now. There’s nothing you can do. The more you think, the more confused you’ll become. You’d be better off stepping back and focusing on preparing our defenses.”

Luo Ren forced a smile and said, “How can I not think about it?”

The Leopard was hidden while he was exposed. If the Leopard didn’t make a move, he had no way of receiving any information—this was the most helpless state to be in, having the strength and the desperate will to fight, yet only being able to wait.

Qing Mu looked at him for a moment, then suddenly said, “Luo, you should go see Pin Ting.”

Luo Ren was surprised: “Is something wrong with Pin Ting?”

Pin Ting and Uncle Zheng were living right next to his house. Probably on Qing Mu’s instructions, they remained quiet and unobtrusive, as if they didn’t exist.

Qing Mu snorted through his nose: “It’s not that something’s wrong—it’s that she’s doing well. I heard that Pin Ting had previously suffered some incident that affected her mental state, but when I picked her up from Dr. He, she had already recovered nicely and could communicate normally with me.”

“Luo, Pin Ting wants to see you, but you haven’t gone to visit her.”

Luo Ren said, “She’s hiding very well right now. If I go to find her, it might expose her location. Let’s talk about it after this is all over.”

Qing Mu put his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky. The lights from inside and outside the bar were too bright, preventing the starlight from penetrating. No matter how he looked, the sky was just a pitch-black expanse.

He sighed, “When we were in the Philippines, you often mentioned Pin Ting. Back then, I thought you would eventually end up with her. Just like I thought… I would end up with Yukiko.”

Luo Ren patted his shoulder: “It’s not too late. After returning to Japan, you can win Yukiko back.”

As they were talking, Cao Jiefang strolled around them, then ambled into the bar.

The atmosphere inside the bar was much livelier than in the courtyard. In just a day or two, Cao Jiefang had become familiar with both new and regular customers, coexisting peacefully with everyone. It would calmly and confidently wander from table to table, like a supervisor making rounds. Its handsome rooster appearance was quite appealing, with some customers even pulling it in for selfies.

When it reached the opposite side of the bar counter, Cao Jiefang stopped.

Yi Wansan was mixing drinks. As he worked, he sensed something was off. Looking up, he met Cao Jiefang’s beady little eyes staring at him.

This wasn’t the first time. Yi Wansan felt uncomfortable and frowned, calling out to Yan Hongsha, who was standing listlessly to the side, waiting for orders: “Er Huo, Cao Jiefang has been acting strange these past few days. Why does it keep staring at me?”

These days, Yan Hongsha had been very worried about Mu Dai but had received no news. The entire person was as anxious as an ant trapped in a circle, unable to show interest in anything. Hearing Yi Wansan’s question, she answered irritably, “Maybe it’s fallen in love with you.”

Cao Yanhua, standing nearby, was quite jealous. His own Jiefang not only refused to be affectionate with him but also kept going to look at San San. What was there to look at? In a chicken’s eyes, do humans even look different from one another?

He said sourly, “You’re overthinking it. Our Jiefang’s gaze is hardly one of tender affection.”

Yi Wansan agreed with this: “Exactly. Don’t underestimate its understanding. This look it’s giving me is like I’ve done something to betray it.”

Had he eaten chicken recently? No. Even if he had, he certainly hadn’t done so in front of Cao Jiefang.

Yan Hongsha gave him a sideways glance: “Did you promise Jiefang something and then not follow through?”

Was there something? Yi Wansan suddenly remembered.

That day, when coaxing Cao Jiefang into its cage, what had he said?

—Jiefang, if you go in there quietly, I’ll go to the street tomorrow and buy you a tag to hang around your neck, the kind that only cherished pets get to wear. Think about it, in all the villages around, could you find another chicken wearing a chicken tag? This kind of family honor can’t be earned even in eight lifetimes.

Yi Wansan drew in a sharp breath. Could it be that Jiefang was dwelling on this? Who would have thought Cao Jiefang was so vain?

There were plenty of shops nearby that could engrave small accessories. Yi Wansan temporarily put aside his work: “I’ll go buy Jiefang a tag.”

Cao Jiefang immediately perked up and trotted after Yi Wansan as he headed out. Cao Yanhua objected: My chicken—why should you buy it a tag? If anyone’s buying one, it should be me.

So Cao Jiefang followed Yi Wansan, Cao Yanhua followed Cao Jiefang, and the two men and one chicken, practically in a line, passed by Luo Ren and Qing Mu.

Qing Mu gave a mocking snort.

He had never thought much of Luo Ren’s group of friends.

About twenty minutes later, Yi Wansan and the others returned. Leading the way was the jubilant Cao Jiefang, its wings catching the breeze, its small steps dancing with flair. Luo Ren found it amusing and blocked Cao Jiefang with his hand: “Let me see.”

He saw clearly that Cao Jiefang had two tags hanging around its neck.

Luo Ren couldn’t help but laugh: “That’s quite a lot of accessories.”

He picked them up and examined them in the light spilling from the bar. One tag was engraved with four characters that read “A Good Chicken,” with a small line below saying “Gift from Yi Wansan.”

Suppressing his laughter, he looked at the other tag, which was more straightforward—”Cao Yanhua’s Chicken.”

Luo Ren waved his hand: “Off you go.”

Cao Jiefang was excited, flapping its small wings, presumably eager to show off its gifts to Yan Hongsha. Just as its little legs were kicking up in the air, it suddenly stumbled—Luo Ren had abruptly grabbed one of its legs, nearly flipping it over.

Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua, who had caught up, were confused. Cao Yanhua asked, “Little Brother Luo, what’s wrong?”

Luo Ren’s expression was off. He asked, “Who put this on Cao Jiefang?”

Following Luo Ren’s gaze, Cao Yanhua was startled.

On Cao Jiefang’s leg, a gray USB drive was attached with tape—the most common kind found in electronics stores, with an unobtrusive color. Given that Cao Jiefang was always moving about, it wasn’t easily noticeable unless one was paying close attention.

Who had attached it? Cao Yanhua couldn’t answer. During their walk, there had been many people coming and going, and some tourists had found a mountain chicken running around on the street quite adorable, stopping them for photos. With all the jostling and crowding, he truly couldn’t remember.

Qing Mu reached out his hand, slowly removed the USB drive, opened the cap to check the interface, then looked at Luo Ren and asked hesitantly, “The Leopard?”

It must be the Leopard. Others wouldn’t play such tricks, and whatever she sent was likely related to Mu Dai.

Luo Ren dared not look. For an instant, his mind flashed with many unpleasant scenarios.

Qing Mu understood his concern: “Then I’ll check it first.”

At the very least, they needed to know the contents. If it was something Luo Ren couldn’t bear, it would be better to shield him from it.

He stood up to go inside, but Luo Ren grabbed him firmly.

Qing Mu looked at him: “What do you think?”

Luo Ren said, “I’ll do it myself.”

Qing Mu paused for a moment, then handed him the USB drive.

This was better. If it truly contained disturbing videos or images, having others see them first would also be a form of harm to Mu Dai.

Luo Ren went into Mu Dai’s room, closed the door, turned on the computer, and inserted the USB drive, only to realize his palm was covered in sweat.

The folder popped up, and indeed, there was a video.

There were sounds outside the door. Qing Mu, Yan Hongsha, and the others were all waiting there, but this companionship offered him no help. Some pain and anxiety cannot be shared; they must be endured alone.

Luo Ren took a deep breath and clicked play.

A dim room with lowered lights, iron bars, a sense of confinement. The camera moved downward from above, like an airplane diving. Mu Dai was lying on the ground, seemingly asleep, her long hair covering half her face, motionless.

Luo Ren’s eyes stung a bit. Mu Dai probably wasn’t sleeping—she was a martial artist, and the way she sat, stood, and lay down was different from ordinary people. This was unconsciousness. There were no visible external injuries for now; it might be drug-induced.

The video skipped, showing it was edited from several clips.

In this segment, Mu Dai was sitting on the ground, arms around her knees, her expression very calm—one could even call it neither servile nor overbearing. This gave Luo Ren some comfort. If she still had the spirit to resist and maintain her dignity, it meant she hadn’t suffered severe harm yet.

In the final segment, there was sound—the Leopard speaking.

With a smile, both languid and disdainful, she said: “I will continue to let Luo know about your situation, and I’ll also let you know about Luo’s condition. Come, say a few words to your lover, reassure him or make him worry—whatever you prefer.”

Luo Ren’s heart sank.

In typical kidnapping cases, videos of the hostage would be released to demand ransom, but the Leopard’s implication that “both parties will continue to know about each other’s situation” suggested that the more confident she appeared, the more certain she was of her position.

After saying this, the camera moved closer, apparently approaching Mu Dai. She seemed very averse, even angered, constantly trying to shield herself with her hands. Finally, unable to endure any longer, she shouted: “Get away!”

But she seemed helpless, and at the end, suddenly appeared to break down, tears streaming down her face as she pressed her head against the bars, murmuring continuously. Luo Ren heard her say: “Luo Xiaodao, they’re all bullying me…”

Her emotions seemed off, continually muttering the same phrase, occasionally wiping her tears.

The video ended there, with tears in Mu Dai’s eyes. The Leopard must have deliberately made such an edit.

Luo Ren reached out his hand and caressed Mu Dai’s face on the screen, slowly closing his eyes. After a few seconds, his emotions settled. He got up to open the door. Yan Hongsha had her ear pressed against it, apparently trying hard to hear what was happening inside, and almost fell in from the unexpected opening.

Luo Ren said, “Nothing’s wrong. Qing Mu, come in for a moment.”

He let Qing Mu watch the video once. Qing Mu started with a frown, but when he saw Mu Dai crying, he seemed somewhat annoyed, muttering, “A little lamb is still a little lamb.”

When the video ended again, Luo Ren, expressionless, asked him: “What did you notice?”

Qing Mu moved the mouse, returning to the moment when Mu Dai shouted: “Your little girlfriend may be causing trouble, but she’s inadvertently helpful. Based on the echo effect in this clip, the location appears to be in a basement.”

Luo Ren nodded: “The Leopard told me we’d meet in Lijiang. She’s not the type to play tricks with such details, and since the video was delivered by Cao Jiefang, she can’t be too far from us.”

Looking through the window at the brilliant lights near and far, he said: “She must be somewhere in this ancient city.”

Qing Mu thought for a moment: “Going house to house to search isn’t technically feasible and could alert her. There’s not much information in this video. We may have to wait… though your little girlfriend seems to be having a hard time holding up.”

Luo Ren said, “That’s not it.”

He had an intuition that Mu Dai was trying to tell him something.

In the three video segments—unconscious, sitting silently, and the third one—Mu Dai’s behavior in the last part was especially abnormal. Her uncontrolled shouting, even her tears.

If this had happened when Luo Ren first met Mu Dai, he might have found it reasonable. But after experiencing so much together, such behavior from Mu Dai didn’t make sense anymore.

Moreover, she had said “Luo Xiaodao,” as if she were speaking directly to him.

—They’re all bullying me.

Was she trying to hint that besides the Leopard, there were others involved?

Who could that person be?

Yan Hongsha and the others were the third group to watch the video. Apart from becoming more anxious and worried, they didn’t offer any constructive suggestions. Luo Ren instructed them to maintain their composure in front of Huo Zihong, and after returning, he also called Zheng Mingshan.

Zheng Mingshan also paid special attention to the phrase “all bullying me” and told Luo Ren, “Actually, it’s not surprising that there are others involved. The Leopard wouldn’t be working alone. If my little martial sister specifically highlighted this point, it might mean that this ‘someone else’ is familiar to you but has gone unnoticed.”

An insider? Luo Ren felt a chill down his spine.

When trying to sleep, he went through each person he knew one by one—even Uncle Zheng, Zhang Shu, Pin Ting, Huo Zihong. In his dreams, he saw faces morphing one into another: “Drawing a person’s skin is easy, but drawing their bones is difficult; knowing a person’s face is easy, but knowing their heart is hard.”

He was awakened by loud knocking at his door.

Opening it, he found Yi Wansan, clutching a piece of paper with an excited expression. Behind him was Qing Mu, yawning continuously. In the middle of the night, Yi Wansan suddenly wanted to find Luo Ren. Although the distance was short, it counted as “going out,” and following safety protocols, he had to accompany him.

Yi Wansan said, “Luo Ren, I suddenly thought of something.”

After entering the room, he showed Luo Ren the paper, which had Mu Dai’s sentence written on it.

—They’re all bullying me.

Yi Wansan said, “We’ve all spent some time with our little boss lady. A person’s manner of speaking, tone, and choice of words tend to have certain patterns. She could have said ‘they all bully me,’ so why did she emphasize ‘ge ge’ (each one)?”

As he spoke, he circled those two characters with his pen.

Luo Ren’s heart jolted.

Yi Wansan continued: “Two ‘ge’ characters together form the character ‘zhu’ (bamboo). Could our little boss lady be trying to tell us that the place where she’s being held has bamboo growing nearby?”