Compared to other areas of Medan, the jungle was the safe zone, with complex terrain that made it easy to hide.

Counting the people: one dead, two injured, plus one extra.

Luo Ren ground his teeth in anger.

They temporarily lay low, with no one going out. News gradually filtered in from outside: the Imperial Hotel had suffered significant losses and was severely damaged. The owner had sold it, and though the new owner was unknown, all signs pointed to Leopard, which was intriguing.

This woman was not to be underestimated. When the kidnapping business failed, she turned around to eliminate her competitors and take over the hotel, expanding her business territory once again, always rising with the tide.

They tried to gather more information about the Leopard. Indeed, she wasn’t Filipino—reportedly her ancestors were Chinese who had migrated to Southeast Asia. For some unknown reason, her generation had rocketed to success, involved in kidnapping and extortion, arms dealing, gambling operations, fighting rings, illegal immigration, and human trafficking—her fingers in everything.

Another rumor claimed that when twenty-two hostage bodies were carried out of the Imperial Hotel, her subordinate reported back, and Leopard smiled gracefully, pressing her still-lit cigarette butt onto the man’s hand, asking, “Why is one missing?”

This was an ominous sign.

So Luo Ren temporarily left Tasha in the jungle to recover.

It was a brief respite between bloodshed, peaceful days filled with the fresh scent of forest wood.

Although Tasha had suffered a diagonal gunshot wound, fortunately, it seemed to have been from a stray bullet with diminished force. No tendons or bones were damaged, and she was quickly able to walk again.

There were no women in the forest, only stern-faced men of different skin colors—Tasha was afraid of all of them. Every day, she followed Luo Ren like an inseparable little tail; when he walked, she walked; when he stopped, she stopped.

There were no toilets in the jungle, and when he went into the woods to “relieve himself,” she followed. Luo Ren became annoyed with her: “You’re following me even for this? How am I supposed to urinate with you staring?”

She hung her head, clutching at some shrub leaves, looking as if she’d suffered a terrible injustice.

There was no choice but to train her to be a “lookout”—hands covering her ears, turning around, standing still, staring into the distance.

The most spectacular scene was when Yureis and the others came together—ten or so grown men, all relieving themselves in a row. Luo Ren ordered: “Tasha, be on lookout!”

The little girl stiffened, quickly turned around, covered her ears, and didn’t move a muscle.

When they finished, Yureis came over and tugged her little braid: “Forward march!”

And so the lookout duty was relieved.

Speaking of braids, Tasha had slightly curly blonde hair that originally wasn’t braided. Who knows which one of them got bored in the jungle, pulled her over and braided it, turning it into a popular pastime. Everyone competed: “Leave some for me, leave some for me too.”

At the peak, Tasha’s head could sport more than twenty little braids, some even decorated with flowers—these men’s aesthetic sense was truly pitiful.

However, Tasha was completely unaware, shaking her basket-like head while teaching a group of grown men children’s songs.

—”Little violin and little cat!”

The men looked at each other in confusion, then looked at Blue Wood, who was holding a ukulele, and repeated unevenly: “Little violin and little cat.”

—”The cow jumped over the moon!”

They continued to repeat: “The cow jumped over the moon.”

—”The little dog laughed to see such sport.”

They couldn’t continue, pushing and shoving each other as they dissolved into laughter.

Only Tasha persisted in finishing: “Exercise is wonderful!”

…

Initially, Tasha called Luo Ren “uncle,” but once, perhaps missing her father, she misspoke and called him “Daddy.”

Luo Ren scolded her: “Don’t call me Daddy.”

Yureis contradicted him, pulling Tasha aside, insisting she call him Daddy.

With a child’s mentality, Tasha couldn’t resist others’ encouragement, so she chased after him, calling him Daddy, then ran away, giggling as she watched Luo Ren lose his temper.

After many repetitions, Luo Ren became indifferent. Whatever, let her call him what she wanted.

Sometimes Blue Wood teased Tasha: “He’s your Daddy, so who are you to him?”

“I’m Daddy’s little daughter.”

“Daughter is daughter, why ‘little’ daughter?”

Tasha’s face turned red, and she said shyly: “Kings and queens always love their youngest daughters the most.”

Luo Ren responded irritably, thinking to himself: She’s read too many fairy tales, there’s no hope for her.

…

Nevertheless, Luo Ren never abandoned the idea of sending Tasha back home. Staying in the jungle wasn’t a long-term solution. As soon as things quieted down a bit, Luo Ren constantly worked through contacts to find out if Tasha had any relatives in Australia.

One evening, sitting on the porch boards under the eaves outside the wooden cabin, he discussed this topic again with Blue Wood. After Blue Wood returned to his room, Luo Ren happened to look back and saw Tasha timidly hiding behind the door, with only her forehead and eyes visible, listening to their conversation all along.

Luo Ren beckoned to her. She ran over, pitter-patter, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Luo Ren held her in his arms and asked, “Do you miss home?”

Tasha’s eyes reddened, and she nodded.

It was extremely quiet all around, with only the faint sound of cicadas. A moon hung on the treetops. Tasha curled up in his arms, drowsily about to fall asleep. The bonfire crackled not far away, and Luo Ren carefully drove mosquitoes away from her.

He said, “Soon, Daddy will find a way to send you back.”

Tasha asked in a small voice: “Afterward, will I still be able to see Daddy?”

Luo Ren paused for a long time before saying, “Yes, Daddy will come visit you.”

After he finished speaking, Tasha didn’t respond. Looking down, he saw she had already fallen asleep.

…

Mu Dai asked: “Then what happened? Did you successfully send Tasha away?”

Yes, they eventually contacted Tasha’s uncle in Australia, that obese middle-aged white man. According to their prior arrangement, he hired a speedboat and came via the waterway, waiting at the dock.

But the journey to send Tasha out was not peaceful, because Leopard had put a bounty on Tasha’s head.

Mu Dai couldn’t understand: “Why would a Leopard go after a child like this?”

Luo Ren smiled: “You don’t understand Leopard. She’s not going after the child—she probably doesn’t even know if Tasha is a boy or a girl.”

“What she wants is her face, the authority that allows her to command Medan at such a young age, the absolute power that ensures when she wants someone dead, they can’t even breathe.”

From beginning to end, she might have only said one sentence: “Why is one missing?”

Following that, naturally, people scurried about in fear, and once the bounty was announced, those who smelled money followed closely behind.

That journey, which he didn’t want to revisit, involved creating diversions and laying false trails. Ultimately, he and Blue Wood accomplished their mission, delivering Tasha to the dock.

At midnight, a half-moon floated over the dark sea waves. The bow of the speedboat knocked against the dock’s rocks. Tasha, who had cried herself into a mess, clung to his neck and wouldn’t let go. Luo Ren knelt and said, “Be good, Daddy has a gift for you.”

He pinned a rainbow-colored hairclip in Tasha’s hair. It was quite tacky, but in their rush, he couldn’t find anything more elegant in the jungle’s general store.

Finally, Tasha held her uncle’s hand and boarded the speedboat, still sobbing. The engine started, and the departing boat bounced on the waves, filled with moonlight.

Mu Dai exhaled deeply.

It was already midnight. Besides the occasional sound of passing cars, the outside was quiet to the point of seeming unreal.

Mu Dai said, “I can tell you liked Tasha. If there’s a chance in the future, I’d like to go to Australia to see her too.”

Luo Ren didn’t speak. His chest suddenly heaved violently, and the hand gripping the steering wheel trembled slightly. After a while, he said, “We still have quite a way to go. Mu Dai, get some sleep.”

That seemed best. Talking about these things distracted him. If she slept a while, perhaps he could rest too.

Mu Dai took a blanket from the back seat and covered herself, saying: “I’ll just take a short nap.”

But once her eyelids closed, they felt a thousand pounds heavy, impossible to open again. Her body swayed with the car’s gentle movement, and her dreams kept swaying too, as if seen through a layer of mist.

She saw Tasha, giggling, her head sprouting more than a dozen little braids sticking out.

She saw Luo Ren in the moonlight, his brows slightly furrowed, the bonfire’s image dancing in his eyes.

She saw that dancer, happily examining a diamond necklace, while behind her, a slender, graceful shadow slowly reached for the knife on the table…

…

When she suddenly awoke, she discovered the driver’s seat was empty, and the car had stopped.

Mu Dai sat up in confusion, rubbing her eyes. It wasn’t yet dawn. Looking around, she saw the car was parked on a small hillside. Looking ahead, Luo Ren stood at the top of the slope, straight as a pine tree, motionless.

Mu Dai opened the car door and walked toward Luo Ren. When she got close, she found that below the slope in the distance were winding railway tracks, and a bit further, what seemed to be a small, illuminated platform.

Looking up at Luo Ren, his gaze was fixed on the night that was about to break into dawn. Dew clung to his temples—who knew how long he had been standing like this?

Mu Dai felt concerned: “Luo Ren?”

Luo Ren didn’t look at her, as if murmuring to himself: “We went to great efforts to send Tasha to the dock, planned so much, had people responsible for distraction, had people responsible for creating confusion…”

Mu Dai anxiously said, “Luo Ren?”

Luo Ren finally lowered his head to look at her, with a somewhat bitter smile: “But do you know what Leopard did?”

Mu Dai stared at him blankly.

“She bought Tasha back. She told me that in this world, as long as the price is right, no deal can be made.”

Bought her back?

Mu Dai’s scalp tingled slightly, like an electric current passing through.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Tell me.”

“Turn your body away.”

Mu Dai turned around. From this hilltop, the view was unobstructed. The night was slowly dissolving, mist coiling around the valley. That small platform, desolate with its light, seemed close enough to touch with an outstretched finger.

Luo Ren embraced her from behind, an embrace so tight it seemed impenetrable. His weight pressed down on her shoulders and back. For a moment, Mu Dai felt she might collapse.

She gritted her teeth and stood firm. Her head moved slightly, and Luo Ren said softly: “Don’t move, don’t look at me.”

Mu Dai nodded instinctively.

He received the news in a bar. The old-fashioned telephone hanging on the corridor pillar suddenly rang incessantly. The bartender went to answer, then, holding the receiver, his gaze scanned the bar, finally settling on him.

Luo Ren took the call.

Leopard laughed on the other end, saying, “I always knew someone was working against me, so it’s you.”

He recognized Leopard’s voice, and suddenly flashed before his eyes was that cocktail glass as brilliant as the aurora, rose almost pearlescent, and finally froze on the blood dripping at the bedside.

Through the receiver came the sound of Tasha struggling and crying: “Daddy, Daddy, save me.”

Luo Ren’s blood rushed to his head, and he asked her: “What do you want?”

“I heard you used to be an underground fighter?”

Leopard wanted Luo Ren to fight in an underground match at her venue. She had placed a bet that he could last thirty minutes. If he helped her win, she would return Tasha to him. If he made her lose, she would also return Tasha to him—in another form.

Luo Ren agreed.

After years away, he stepped onto the blood-scented ring again. The circular arena roared with excitement. He saw Leopard, surrounded by bodyguards, sitting in the arena’s prime position—slim, dressed in black British style, elegantly wearing a vintage felt hat with a half-veil.

Just like that night in the bar, completely out of place in this fighting arena.

The organizer shouted enthusiastically into the megaphone: “Next, let’s welcome the challenger, the boxing king—Human!”

Thunderous applause, such a familiar scene. Someone walked out from the passage on the other side—Thai, 90 kilograms, dark skin, bare upper body with muscles piled like hard iron.

Luo Ren turned to look at Leopard in the arena: she had investigated him, arranged this cruel fate, showing him her power.

Luo Ren laughed loudly.

Fist to flesh, another bout with Human. He couldn’t remember how many times he had been knocked down, how many times he stood up again. His eyes filled with blood, seeing the bruised Human through a bloody haze. They fought savagely. His head took hit after hit until finally he felt no pain, only remembering the sound of fists hitting his head, surprisingly like bouncing a ball.

Finally, dazed and swaying, he stood in the ring, ears buzzing, hearing the whole arena counting down: “Ten, nine, eight, seven…”

Thirty minutes—he had helped her win.

Luo Ren collapsed on the ground. Two of Leopard’s bodyguards came over, one on each side, escorting him to meet Leopard. When they reached the ground, a crazed customer who seemed high on drugs passed by, stumbling into them.

That was Yureis, who had infiltrated the place. Taking advantage of that collision’s confusion, he slipped Luo Ren a dagger.

Luo Ren remained expressionless, concealing the dagger’s gleaming blade in his sleeve.

When they approached, everything went as expected. He suddenly pounced like a tiger, pressing the sharp blade against Leopard’s neck, drawing first blood.

A thin line of blood trailed across the fair neck.

Luo Ren sneered: “I never respond well to threats.”

Leopard said, “You’ll regret this.”

Luo Ren laughed loudly, about to say something, when a gunshot rang out. A spray of blood erupted before his eyes, and Leopard in his arms fell limply to the ground, the crown of her head a mess of blood and flesh.

Caught off guard, frozen like a wooden chicken, Luo Ren stood stunned for a long while, then slowly turned around.

He saw Leopard—tall, slender, wearing a silver high-slit evening gown with a diamond necklace, her black hair pinned up, a fresh, moist rose tucked above her ear.

Her right hand held a gun straight out, the barrel seemingly wreathed in smoke, still in aiming position.

Around her gathered a crowd of fat, important-looking figures, mostly like her, extremely wealthy. A waiter in a white suit and white gloves carried a tray with a cocktail glass containing a light blue flame—a B-52 Bomber.

Leopard took the glass and drained it in one gulp, then smiled gracefully to those around her: “Accept the bet’s outcome. I won. I said long ago he wouldn’t be so obedient, he would make a move.”

Another waiter came with a tray, collecting gold chips from the group. The chips clinked onto the tray, a dazzling golden light.

She was playing a game.

The cold gun barrel pressed against the back of Luo Ren’s head. More and more bodyguards surged forward. Someone viciously kicked the back of his knees. Yureis, submerged in the crowd, was so anxious that sweat beaded on his forehead. Leopard said: “No, no, no, let him go. I still want him to receive my gift.”

When did the fighting arena empty and quiet down? Luo Ren had no awareness, only knowing that finally, Yureis supported him under the arms and helped him up, saying: “Luo, let’s go back.”

…

Leopard’s gift arrived two days later—a large wooden crate, almost two cubic meters. Several locals carried it in and placed it in the open space in front of the wooden cabin. A trembling rose sprinkled with gold rice was inserted in a corner crack of the box.

More than a dozen men gathered around.

Luo Ren sat on the porch beneath the eaves, not moving.

Yureis cursed: “Damn it!”

After cursing, he carried a gun and walked up close, violently smashing the gun butt against the wooden box. The boards didn’t break, but the barking of a mastiff came from inside.

Blue Wood’s face changed. He dragged an ax from the side room, signaled Yureis to move aside, and smashed the wooden box open with a mighty blow.

Inside was a locked iron cage, and in the cage, a ferocious, massive mastiff.

Luo Ren still didn’t move. Yureis raised his gun and fired wildly into the cage. Some bullets hit the lock, creating a clanging metallic sound. The mastiff’s fierce barking turned into whimpering howls, and finally, there was no sound at all.

Blue Wood gripped a knife, opened the cage door, and went in. His hand rose, and the knife fell, blood splattering everywhere.

Afterward, the gathered crowd slowly dispersed. Luo Ren looked up and saw Blue Wood, pale-faced, walking toward him step by step.

Blue Wood opened his clenched fist—in his palm lay a bloody, rainbow-colored plastic hairclip.

…

Mu Dai felt that Luo Ren couldn’t stand it anymore. The weight that had been pressing on her shoulders and back began to slide down. Disregarding Luo Ren’s instruction “don’t turn around,” she turned to try to support him: “Luo Xiaodao?”

Luo Ren fell to his knees, clutching her waist tightly.

Mu Dai also knelt, embracing his shoulders and neck, her head gently resting on top of his. She could feel his body’s forced suppression of trembling.

The night finally dispersed, and dawn’s brightness began to spread. The platform’s light had gone out at some unknown time. A distant “woo-woo” sound reached them. Mu Dai turned to look and saw a long train of green carriages rattling through the valley, winding its way toward them.

“Luo Xiaodao, dawn has broken.”