Dawn was approaching but had not yet arrived.
In a corner of the staircase on the first floor of Ju San Suiyuan bar, a flashlight shone secretly, illuminating Cao Jiefang’s luxurious abode.
Yi Wansan, Yan Hongsha, and Cao Yanhua formed a circle, with Cao Jiefang—forcibly awakened half an hour ago—at the center. The chicken wore two tags around its neck, had a blank stare, and occasionally nodded its head, looking as if it would fall asleep any second.
Cao Yanhua was pleading earnestly: “Jiefang, did you listen to what I just said? The time has come to test your acting skills.”
Yi Wansan pointed at Cao Jiefang’s tags: “Jiefang, you must live up to this tag. ‘A Good Chicken’—what’s the standard for being a good chicken? It’s knowing how to cooperate. Do you understand?”
Yan Hongsha was both irritated and amused: “It doesn’t understand. It’s just a chicken; it hasn’t become a spirit. Can you think of a more reliable method? Huh?”
…
Luo Ren thought Yi Wansan’s idea might be correct.
He and Qing Mu had tried to investigate the ancient city’s topography, using web maps and searching countless images, but without meaningful results. Within China, their available resources were limited, making it impossible to examine detailed ground photos of every location.
If Mu Dai had secretly sent a message, they couldn’t make a grand display—with the Leopard’s spies around, they needed to conduct their search discreetly, appearing casual.
Initially, Luo Ren had wanted to utilize Wan Fenghuo, but Qing Mu objected, reasoning that Wan Fenghuo’s information trading was available to everyone. It was hard to say whether the Leopard had found them with help from someone on Wan Fenghuo’s side—asking him about minor matters was acceptable, but when it came to taking action, doing it themselves was more reassuring.
So Yi Wansan claimed he had a method that seemed absurd but was feasible.
…
As the sun rose higher and the crowds grew, shops throughout the ancient city gradually opened. At this moment, Yi Wansan’s angry shout suddenly erupted from the entrance of Ju San Suiyuan bar.
“I’ve always been so good to you! Just kicked you twice, what’s the big deal?”
Accompanied by a stretched “Hey… doh… loh,” onlookers suddenly noticed a mountain chicken darting out from inside like an arrow released from a bowstring.
Behind it followed a panic-stricken Cao Yanhua, shouting: “Help, help, stop it…”
Most people avoided it anxiously, though two or three made gestures to intercept it. All were intimidated by Cao Jiefang’s determined charge and the flapping of its wings. Cao Jiefang, with two or three movements, soared high, suddenly perching on one wall, then entering another courtyard, and then vanishing.
Cao Yanhua stamped his foot on the spot, turning to scold Yi Wansan, who had caught up: “Where’s the chicken? It’s gone!”
Yi Wansan stiffened his neck, arguing back: “It’s just a chicken! What’s the big deal? I’ll find it for you, alright?”
The two glared at each other as they entered the bar. The crowd watching the spectacle hadn’t yet dispersed. Through the bar’s glass window, they could see Yi Wansan standing by the window, rapidly sketching something.
A few minutes later, the two emerged again. Yi Wansan’s injury hadn’t healed, with one arm in a sling, while Cao Yanhua held up a “Lost Chicken Notice.”
With just a few strokes, the drawing captured the chicken’s likeness perfectly.
Below it was a line of text: If returned, a reward of 100 yuan will be given.
The two pushed and shoved, cursing as they went off to search for the chicken.
Meanwhile, Pin Ting was painting in a small courtyard.
She had set up an easel facing a wall, with a watercolor palette beside her. The painting depicted a dull gray wall, a bare surface with peeling patches.
Uncle Zheng came out and said to her, “Pin Ting, isn’t it too sunny to paint outside? Why not come inside?”
Pin Ting bit her lip, answering something unrelated: “Little Brother Dao hasn’t come to see me.”
Uncle Zheng smiled: “Though he hasn’t come in person, he has called. Didn’t Mr. Qing Mu explain it clearly to us? Luo Xiaodao got into trouble outside and was afraid of involving us, so he asked us to hide well.”
Pin Ting raised her head, looking over the wall to the higher place next door. That was Luo Ren’s room. Every night, she could see the lights on, with Luo Ren coming and going, busy with unknown affairs.
As she was thinking, a head suddenly popped up over the wall.
Pin Ting was startled with an “Aiya,” pressing one hand on the easel, staining it with watercolors. On the other side, the person moved with remarkable agility, flipping down the wall and then throwing a chicken onto the ground.
A thief? A chicken thief? Breaking in during broad daylight?
Looking closer, she saw it was a middle-aged man, slightly plump with a gloomy face. The chicken’s mouth was taped shut, its legs tied together with a thin string, looking quite angry.
Fortunately, the man spoke first.
“Are you Luo Ren’s relatives?”
Uncle Zheng, having recovered from the surprise, quickly nodded. Zheng Mingshan pointed at Cao Jiefang on the ground: “Luo Ren asked me to bring this over.”
Seeing there was no ill intent, Uncle Zheng breathed a sigh of relief, looking at both the chicken and Zheng Mingshan: “Bring it over… to eat?”
Little Dao Luo was quite considerate. Though he couldn’t come over these past few days, he still thought of them—now he had someone deliver a chicken, and a wild one at that. What a treat!
Hearing the word “eat,” Cao Jiefang’s expression turned terrified, its entire body suddenly rigid.
Zheng Mingshan frowned slightly.
Luo Ren had only asked him to help catch the chicken that Cao Yanhua was chasing and bring it here, but whether to eat it or not, he hadn’t specified.
Zheng Mingshan gave an ambiguous answer: “Either ask him or… as you wish.”
By afternoon, Yi Wansan and Cao Yanhua, having circled almost the entire ancient city, finally returned. The drawing was gone; Yi Wansan explained that to complete the act, he had made about ten copies along the way and posted them all.
Their harvest was tremendous. They had spotted three houses with bamboo, remembering clearly the names and directions of the alleys. As he spoke, Yi Wansan quickly sketched a simple map, marking landmark shops and directions, making everything clear at a glance.
Three locations—the next step required a trustworthy new face to investigate.
Luo Ren called Zheng Mingshan. Fifteen minutes later, Zheng Mingshan, wearing a low tourist cap, entered the bar. Without speaking to anyone, he went straight to a corner. Yan Hongsha brought over a drink menu. Zheng Mingshan opened it, discreetly took out the drawing inside, looked at it for a while, muttered “too expensive,” and left.
As he was leaving, he brushed shoulders with Luo Ren. Luo Ren didn’t look at him, saying quietly: “Thank you.”
Zheng Mingshan also didn’t look at him, responding with a cold laugh: “It’s not for your sake.”
Luo Ren remained silent, entering the bar as usual. On the other side, Cao Yanhua hurriedly approached, lowering his voice to ask: “Little Brother Luo, where’s our Jiefang?”
He was quite pleased. When arranging that scene in the morning, he had insisted that Yi Wansan play the bad cop. Sure enough, when Yi Wansan got rough, Cao Jiefang ran away—even the deepest affection could be destroyed by domestic violence. Now was the perfect time for him to step in and show kindness to Jiefang.
Luo Ren said, “It was sent to Pin Ting and Uncle Zheng’s place.”
At these words, Cao Yanhua seemed fine, but Yi Wansan, resting at the side, instinctively raised his head sharply. At the same moment, seemingly realizing his reaction was too obvious, he quickly turned his face away.
Yan Hongsha, watching from the side, caught everything and made a face at Luo Ren, gesturing toward Yi Wansan with her mouth.
Luo Ren smiled, came over to sit beside Yi Wansan, and said: “You can go see her if you want. You took care of her a lot when she was ill.”
Yi Wansan was a bit embarrassed: “This… doesn’t seem appropriate. She’s hidden away with difficulty; let’s not expose her.”
Before Luo Ren could reply, Yan Hongsha thrust her head forward: “If you want to go, there’s always a way.”
Five minutes later, after taking two phone calls, Yan Hongsha raised her head and shouted loud enough for the entire bar to hear: “Delivery! Two Blue Mountain coffees for that weird-flavored restaurant at Cross Street. And a cappuccino with cheesecake for the silver shop across the street.”
Ten minutes later, Yi Wansan, carrying plastic takeout bags with one hand, made a show as he left: “Even in my condition, they still make me deliver!”
Yan Hongsha could barely contain her laughter, asking Luo Ren, “Aren’t I clever?”
Luo Ren was distracted, checking his phone from time to time despite knowing Zheng Mingshan couldn’t have news so quickly. He responded perfunctorily: “Yes, clever.”
Yan Hongsha was pleased. As she turned her face, she suddenly noticed Qing Mu looking up at her.
For some unknown reason, her heart suddenly pounded fiercely, and she felt somewhat regretful, thinking: I shouldn’t have smiled so openly just now, showing all my teeth.
Yi Wansan knocked on the door, his palm damp, feeling his voice sounding unnatural as he called out “Delivery!”
Uncle Zheng came to open the door. He hadn’t seen Yi Wansan for quite some time, and upon seeing him, he smiled so widely his mouth couldn’t close. He led him to meet Pin Ting, telling her, “Do you remember Little Jiang? When you were sick, he often kept you company. Back then, you couldn’t tell the difference and called him ‘Little Brother Dao.’ Luo Xiaodao was even jealous when he heard that.”
Pin Ting quickly stood up from her easel, nodding to Yi Wansan, saying, “Hello.”
As she spoke, she looked him up and down.
Yi Wansan felt uncomfortable. His arm was in a cast, and after running around the ancient city with Cao Yanhua, his clothes were wrinkled, his hair messy, and his trouser cuffs stained with dirt.
In contrast, Pin Ting sat before her easel, dressed properly, her hair perfectly neat. She was painting, and she was as beautiful as a painting.
When speaking, she was polite and formal toward him, no longer the Pin Ting who used to tug at his arm, saying, “Little Brother Dao, chase the little fish.”
Like people from two different worlds.
Yi Wansan forced a smile and said, “Hello.”
He handed the takeout bag to Uncle Zheng, casually scanning the courtyard: “That… where is our chicken…?”
He shouldn’t have mentioned the chicken. As soon as he did, Uncle Zheng slapped his thigh: “Your chicken—it wasn’t bought for eating? Has it become a spirit?”
The story had to be told from the beginning.
After Zheng Mingshan left, Uncle Zheng had been pondering how to cook the chicken. He had handled both roosters and hens before, but a mountain chicken… was truly a first.
So he went back inside to look up methods for cooking mountain chicken.
Cao Jiefang began to walk around the courtyard.
By all accounts, with its two feet tied together with a small rope, like shackles, it shouldn’t have been able to take big steps, but Cao Jiefang was quite adaptable. According to Pin Ting, when she looked up from her painting, she saw Cao Jiefang moving with small steps, swaying like a Japanese woman, and wiggling its way into the kitchen.
Later, after Uncle Zheng entered the kitchen, he could no longer find the knife, while Cao Jiefang lay on the ground, motionless and peaceful, like a hen about to hatch eggs.
Uncle Zheng pulled Yi Wansan inside, pointing to a spot near the stove: “Who would have thought the knife was pressed beneath it? This little creature—later, I don’t know if the rope loosened or if it was cut by the knife’s edge, but it ran away in a flash. I told Pin Ting to stop it, but with her timid nature, she didn’t dare. That little creature, with its wings flapping, flew up the wall and disappeared!”
Yi Wansan’s heart sank, thinking: Oh no, this is bad.
How could Cao Jiefang truly understand how to “act”? So that morning’s scene, he had genuinely been “chasing the chicken” with fierce energy, kicking it once, and Cao Jiefang’s little eyes had looked so wronged.
Now that it had escaped its restraints, of course, it wouldn’t return. With the vastness of sky and earth, who knew where it had run off to? Yi Wansan regretted not posting more copies of the lost chicken notice and not offering a higher reward: 100 yuan didn’t seem very attractive.
Zheng Mingshan found the first house.
The gate was tightly closed without any sign of activity. He casually circled the house once. The back wall faced a quiet street with few pedestrians—the ideal position for climbing over.
Before taking action, he first found a shop at a high point, quickly surveyed the courtyard, and after confirming no one was inside, swiftly scaled the wall.
The walls in this area weren’t very high, so although he couldn’t perform feats like Mu Dai’s gecko wall-climbing, entering and exiting weren’t a problem.
Upon landing, he quickly sought cover, his gaze swiftly scanning the courtyard: there were no signs of habitation, unlike other residential compounds with clothes hanging to dry. It probably wasn’t owner-occupied—locally, such houses were either investment properties, short-term rentals for tourists, or… problematic.
The back door of the house was ajar. Zheng Mingshan hurried over, just about to push it open, when a “Hmm?” sound came from behind.
His heart skipped a beat. He quickly rolled on the ground, not even looking, as his hand moved like lightning, one hand covering her mouth, the other locking her neck.
Soft bones, tender skin, small stature—a six or seven-year-old foreign girl with golden curly hair, still hugging a doll. She seemed frightened by him, with tears welling in her eyes.
This was bad—a foreign tourist, and a child at that. Zheng Mingshan felt apprehensive. He still covered her mouth with one hand while raising a finger to his lips with the other, gesturing for her to stay quiet. This gesture seemed universally understood; the little girl’s tears fell, but she nodded. When Zheng Mingshan removed his hand, she pursed her lips and said softly in English: “Uncle, please don’t kill me.”
This situation was completely unexpected. Zheng Mingshan felt he should leave immediately, but to be cautious, he asked her a few more questions.
“Where are you from?”
“America.”
“Who brought you here?”
“Mommy and Daddy, and Grandpa, Grandma.”
“Where are they?”
She timidly pointed toward the door: “Some are sleeping, others are watching movies.”
Zheng Mingshan breathed a sigh of relief, patted her head, and said quietly: “Uncle got the wrong door. Goodbye.”
He smiled at the little girl, even giving her a salute, then, just as he had come, quickly scaled the wall and disappeared.
The little girl looked up at the empty wall, hesitated, then lowered her head. She took her doll’s hand and softly sang: “Hey, diddle, diddle…”
After a pause, she suddenly turned her head and shouted toward the door: “Mommy!”