Luo Ren had been waiting for Zheng Mingshan’s call, pacing anxiously. Time moved neither quickly nor slowly. Here, he could only wait in vain, but elsewhere, many things might have already happened.
What if something happened to Mu Dai during this time?
When the phone rang, Luo Ren answered almost instantly, then felt disappointed: it wasn’t Zheng Mingshan, but Wan Fenghuo.
Luo Ren couldn’t muster any enthusiasm and asked him to be brief: “Do you have any important discoveries?”
His tone wasn’t very pleasant, but Wan Fenghuo was perceptive: “Just some peripheral information. If you want to hear it, I’ll tell you. If you’re busy, I can have someone contact you later.”
Wan Fenghuo was, after all, a “leader” of sorts, and occasionally liked to assert his authority.
“Go ahead.”
“I found out that the generation of the Leopard’s ancestors who went to Southeast Asia was during the mid-Ming Dynasty. And we’ve always wondered, haven’t we, why people from the wealthy regions of Guangdong, Guangxi, and Fujian, or Zhejiang, would go to Southeast Asia, and why few people would leave their homeland.”
Luo Ren made a sound of acknowledgment: “So?”
“They didn’t want to leave on their own. They killed someone, the case was discovered, and they fled.”
Luo Ren was a bit surprised: “Continue.”
Judging by his tone, Wan Fenghuo knew Luo Ren was now somewhat interested in this information, and he felt quite accomplished: “It starts with the river in the town. The river flows in from outside, converging into a large pond at the eastern end of the town. It’s now called Xiacheng Pond, but according to the older generation, it was originally called Seven People Pond.”
Luo Ren’s heart jolted.
Seven? He was now extremely sensitive to this number.
“Back then, mysteriously, seven people drowned in that pond within a period. The entire town was in panic; adults and children alike dared not approach the pond. The magistrate’s runners suspected someone from the town was responsible, but they couldn’t identify the culprit.”
Luo Ren felt like some connections were forming in his mind: “The murderer was the Leopard’s ancestor?”
“Yes. Unfortunately for him, he was never caught during his crimes. But that year, for some unknown reason, four or five outsiders came to town. They were likely from the Greenwood path, bold, meticulous, and skilled in martial arts. They caught him. The clan members locked him in the ancestral hall, probably planning to punish him according to family law on a chosen day. But unexpectedly, the man escaped during this interval and never returned.”
So that’s how it was. He ran far indeed, going straight to Southeast Asia.
“Later, when the town was building a bridge, this case was engraved on a stepping stone of the bridge as a warning to villagers—thanks to this, the story was passed down through generations, and some elderly people still remember it.”
Luo Ren pondered for a moment, then asked: “Those four or five outsiders, can you find out anything about them?”
“Difficult. According to the stories passed down, they ‘spoke with a northern accent and entered the town disguised as flower peddlers.'”
After hanging up, Luo Ren’s heart was beating rapidly.
Yi Wansan hadn’t returned yet. He called Cao Yanhua and Yan Hongsha to talk in a corner. From a distance, Qing Mu glanced at them but didn’t come over—he had his pride: If you don’t invite me to listen, I’m not interested anyway.
Luo Ren briefly explained the situation and asked them: “Do you have any thoughts? Does it sound familiar?”
Yan Hongsha’s mouth was half-open, stunned for a while, then said: “Familiar. Listening to it, I suddenly feel like it’s the five of us, Ming Dynasty version.”
Luo Ren nodded: “It’s been several hundred years. In a story passed down for so long, the information may not be accurate, but it’s valuable for reference. Wan Fenghuo said, ‘Four or five outsiders came to town.’ I can assume a precise number—not four or five, but five.”
Five, corresponding perfectly to gold, wood, water, fire, and earth, just like the small team they had formed on a whim.
Cao Yanhua also blurted out: “The role of the Leopard’s ancestor is a bit like Ya Feng, isn’t it?”
That’s right. Back then, they had obtained the murder bamboo slip from Qing Shan and Ya Feng, and not knowing what to do with them, after careful consideration, they had to let them go—applying this pattern to that town during the Ming Dynasty, those five people might also have obtained the murder bamboo slip, then handed the person over to the town’s ancestral hall elders for handling, only they didn’t expect the person would seize the opportunity to escape.
Luo Ren said, “I didn’t know the exact era when the murder bamboo slip appeared in that Zhejiang town before. I simply deduced that the bamboo slip was transferred from the town to Wuzhu based on the identical images between it and the underwater giant painting in Wuzhu Village. Now it seems the situation is more complex than I thought.”
Even more complex? Yan Hongsha’s brain wasn’t keeping up again.
Luo Ren smiled slightly: “Perhaps back then, hundreds of years ago, something similar to what we’re experiencing now happened, with another five people, like us, investigating the murder bamboo slip.”
He gestured for Yan Hongsha to give him the order pad and pen that were tucked in her server’s apron. Flipping the notebook over, he drew two Big Dippers, one vertical and one horizontal, roughly outlining the shape of China around them.
He pointed to the vertical one first: “This is the distribution of murder bamboo slip locations on our journey.”
Then he pointed to the horizontal one: “And this one is likely the evolved distribution of murder bamboo slip locations hundreds of years ago.”
Back then, hundreds of years ago, was the murder bamboo slip already rampant? And were there five other people, like them, subduing the murder bamboo slip?
The similarities and connections scattered across vast time and space suddenly caused small tremors to ripple up Yan Hongsha’s arms.
Cao Yanhua timidly asked: “Did they succeed in subduing it?”
Luo Ren answered: “It’s hard to say. Perhaps they succeeded, but afterward, for some reason, the Phoenix Luan clasp was unlocked again. It’s also possible they didn’t succeed, and the murder bamboo slip continued to migrate and flow, forming today’s pattern.”
Cao Yanhua drew in a sharp breath, then, after a while, murmured: “The Leopard is so capable, plus the murder bamboo slip, it’s much more thorny than Ya Feng.”
Luo Ren said: “It’s not just more thorny, it’s many times more thorny. Haven’t you noticed that this matter has another very obvious difference from what we encountered before?”
Is there? Cao Yanhua guessed wildly: “Because that person went to Southeast Asia? Left the country?”
Luo Ren lowered his voice: “It’s because of that Seven People Pond, where seven people drowned one after another within a period—seven murder cases.”
“Remember what Ya Feng said? Many secrets of the murder bamboo slip are related to seven, ‘seven makes it complete,’ and she also mentioned ‘a number of seven times seven.'”
—For the fishing line doll case, Luo Ren remembered there were three known murders.
—In Wuzhu Village, the death toll was unclear, and with the village long abandoned, even counting Yan Hongsha’s uncle Yan Jiuxiao, there might not have been seven.
—The four strongholds were in the mountains, with even fewer people.
—In Nantian County, Xiang Silan might have influenced many people through the Tengma Sculpture Platform, but the fatalities might still have been few.
—In Cao Family Village, Ya Feng had intended to massacre them, but fortunately, they all escaped unharmed.
Only this town conveyed precise information: “Seven people drowned one after another,” and afterward, the Leopard’s ancestor, rather intriguingly, stopped killing until those outsiders tracked him down here.
Why seven, not eight or nine? Ya Feng once said, “I was born different from you, “because I have a wicked heart.” If she also completed seven murder bamboo slip cases, would there be some change?
The three of them fell into silence together. The door sounded—Yi Wansan had returned from delivering takeout. Seeing them gathered, he walked over, puzzled.
The phone rang again. It was an unfamiliar number. Luo Ren answered.
On the other end was an almost piercing cold laugh.
“Luo, keep smiling. Don’t let those around you notice anything unusual. Casually leave the bar. Don’t try to signal anyone with your eyes or gestures. I have eyes watching you. If you do anything wrong, I’ll stab your little beauty.”
Luo Ren smiled at Yi Wansan, who was approaching, and said, “I’m going to the restroom. We were just discussing some things; let Hongsha tell you about it.”
He walked toward the back of the bar, saying to Qing Mu as he passed: “Want to eat out tonight? For a change of taste.”
A casual question, as usual.
As he rounded the back stairs, his expression suddenly turned cold. His pace quickened, almost bursting out the back door as he pushed it open, asking: “What do you want?”
“You move fast. I thought for a long time before figuring out it was your little beauty who leaked the information. Luo, being played makes me very unhappy.”
What did she mean?
Luo Ren first thought the Leopard was referring to how quickly he had come out, then realized: the Leopard knew about Mu Dai transmitting location information.
How did she know? Zheng Mingshan hadn’t called back. Or had something happened to Zheng Mingshan, too?
Luo Ren felt his back stiffen. When the Leopard said she was “very unhappy,” she would inevitably vent her anger. She was someone who didn’t like to lose.
He could barely contain himself: “What do you want?”
The Leopard said, “Luo, I want to see you.”
The call ended, and a video request came in. Luo Ren gritted his teeth but accepted it. The other end showed an image.
The Leopard was outdoors, in a forest. Her face was gloomy, but she wore an eerie smile. She removed her sunglasses, revealing a black leather eye patch covering her eye.
After that fierce battle, this was the first time Luo Ren had seen the Leopard.
“Long time no see, Luo.”
The camera moved away, quickly turning in a circle to show the surroundings—deep in a forest, trees all around. Luo Ren hadn’t yet understood what was happening when the camera suddenly turned downward.
He saw someone filling in the last shovelful of dirt, over what appeared to be… a grave.
Luo Ren’s blood rushed to his head, his legs almost out of control. The Leopard’s face reappeared on the screen: “I’ve already shown you the surroundings. Come save her, Luo. If you win again, I’ll consider giving her a chance at the wheel. I keep my word.”
She giggled and hung up.
Luo Ren’s forehead broke out in cold sweat. He quickly looked around, examining all the terrain features, his mind rapidly replaying the fragments of scenes he had just seen.
—A forest, relatively flat terrain, and judging from its depth, not small in area. From his impression, there were indeed several patches of forest nearby.
—The Leopard wanted him to play this game, indicating the game was difficult but not impossible. She wouldn’t choose a forest too far away, as he wouldn’t be able to reach it, which would be meaningless.
—There were two nearby locations: one outside the city, one halfway up the mountain. The road outside the city was easier to travel; he could run all the way. That’s not what the Leopard would want to see. Most likely, it was halfway up the mountain, because at this time, tourists would be everywhere. Despite the close distance, he would be hindered at every turn. The Leopard would enjoy watching this kind of “helpless burning of the five viscera.”
Luo Ren hesitated no more and began running at full speed.
He had never realized before how many tourists were in the ancient city—striking poses, taking photos, setting up tripods. He even encountered an elderly tour group, with silver-haired tourist hats; he didn’t dare push them forcefully.
Luo Ren shouted: “Everyone, move aside!”
He ignored the curses behind him and didn’t care if he kicked over roadside stalls—at worst, he would compensate them afterward. But Mu Dai couldn’t wait. He remembered some training in the Philippines before: how long could someone survive being buried alive? Minutes or seconds?
His mind was in chaos, mechanically moving forward, then forward again.
—Luo, if you win again, I’ll consider giving her a chance at the wheel.
The wheel?
In Medan, there were many rumors about the Leopard. She was so unpredictable; ordinary people could never fathom her intentions. Someone who had offended her was brought before her, and everyone thought this person would certainly die. But for some unknown reason, the Leopard was in a good mood that day and said, “Come, let’s spin a wheel.”
Like those lucky wheels often seen on TV, with two pointers: either life or death.
That person was so scared he wet his pants, trembling as he reached out. The needle spun, rotating slowly on the face of the wheel before gradually stopping, and it landed on life.
The Leopard waved her hand and said, “Go.”
She let him go.
But most of the time, her wheel wasn’t a choice between life and death. The pointer’s direction could determine one way of dying or another way of dying.
Luo Ren’s heart tightened. Stumbling along, that patch of forest was now in sight.
It wasn’t dense but was large, with clustered branches. It wasn’t the season for falling leaves, but this forest had been left to grow wild for years, with thick branches and leaves piled on the ground—the Leopard would certainly use the ground foliage as camouflage, not allowing him to easily discover traces of digging.
Standing at any slightly deeper point and looking around, the scenery was similar to what the Leopard had shown him.
Where exactly? Where?
Luo Ren, almost frantically, knelt down and quickly brushed aside the branches and leaves on the ground. Nothing in one spot, still nothing in another. Sweat dripped from Luo Ren’s forehead. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind.
He had been to this forest before.
That night, he had scared Mu Dai to tears in this forest, and she had elbowed him in return, the pain keeping him awake for several nights.
Time counted in seconds. Where was Mu Dai? She might stop breathing soon, this second, or the next.
Luo Ren gritted his teeth and continued sweeping away branches and leaves. For a moment, his emotions suddenly reached a critical point, and he shouted: “Mu Dai!”
Surprisingly, there was a response. A startled mountain chicken fluttered out from behind a tree, its two small eyes staring straight at him.
Is this… Cao Jiefang?