Yi Sa couldn’t quite explain what was wrong with her.
But she had a vague feeling: what happened to Jiang Jun and Yi Xiao today would be her tomorrow, and the path she had walked would inevitably be experienced by Zong Hang in the future.
Some things needed to be dealt with urgently.
The Ding family had always lived along the Yellow River, and Ding Changsheng’s kiln factory couldn’t be far from the Yellow River basin. Yi Sa planned to head north, waiting for news from Ding Yudie along the way, and would make other plans if nothing came through.
For her previous trip to the Jiang family’s Jintang, she had come by motorcycle, which was still parked near the dock where she first boarded the boat. So she would first go back to get the bike, ride it to Nanchang, and then hire a car to head north.
Yi Sa settled her hotel bill and took Zong Hang and Wu Gui onto a private minivan.
The vehicle started with a wobble.
The rural minivan had few passengers and the driver was too frugal to turn on the air conditioning. For ventilation, all windows were wide open. Yi Sa sat by the window, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the calm lake. The weather was nice, with sparkles of light dancing on the water’s surface, and boats floating like cut leaves, creating fine lines across the water.
Before leaving the dome cave, she had placed Yi Xiao’s body together with the other victims who had been caught in the crossfire. She wondered if Xichao had collected and buried them yet.
Lost in thought, she turned to look at Zong Hang, who was deeply absorbed in the combat manual, his body and the book swaying with the vehicle’s motion.
Hadn’t his father taught him not to read in moving vehicles?
Besides, was it necessary to be that serious? She’d never heard of anyone becoming an expert just by reading books.
Yi Sa cleared her throat: “What have you learned? Anything useful?”
Zong Hang had become a fan of the author: “Very useful!”
He explained what he’d just learned to Yi Sa: “Turns out you can use your head as a weapon, it’s called ‘head strike.’ With proper training, a head strike can generate hundreds of kilograms of force. The most effective way is to use your head to hit someone’s face – think about it, the face is so sensitive to pain… In the future, if Ding Xi tries to hit me again, this is what I’ll do.”
Seeing his confidence, Yi Sa gave him a sidelong glance: “Come on, hit me.”
“What?”
“Let me help you practice, use your head to hit me.”
“We’re in a moving vehicle.”
“You think someone who wants to hit you will care if you’re in a vehicle or not?”
Zong Hang hesitated: “That won’t work, head strikes are powerful. What if I hurt you…”
Yi Sa said: “I never oversell myself. My martial arts skills are at best third-rate, while Ding Xi is first-rate, no doubt about it. If you can’t even hit me, how do you expect to hit him? Go ahead and try.”
She had at least trained for two or three years – it would be too embarrassing to be subdued by someone who had only read two or three pages.
Zong Hang looked around.
The driver was focused on driving, the ticket collector was scrolling on their phone, the old lady in the front seat was absorbed in cracking sunflower seeds, and the old man in the back seat was slumped in his seat, snoring loudly.
Nobody should notice if he made his move.
He said: “Well, be careful then.”
With that, he tilted his body, gripped the seats in front and behind for support, lowered his head, and lunged toward Yi Sa’s face.
Yi Sa was quick to react, reaching out with one palm to firmly control the crown of Zong Hang’s head.
Zong Hang’s “head strike” only made it halfway before encountering unprecedented resistance.
Yi Sa said: “Iron Head, put some strength into it, are you trying to tickle someone?”
Zong Hang gritted his teeth, his face turning red with effort as he pushed forward, but didn’t advance even a millimeter.
How could such thin arms have so much strength?
As they were locked in this stalemate, Yi Sa received a phone call.
The practice session ended, with Zong Hang rubbing his head while Yi Sa shook out her arm and answered the phone with her left hand.
It was Yi Yunqiao calling, who first berated her for being unreachable for several days.
Yi Sa softened her tone and exaggerated her congested breathing: “My phone fell in the water, I just got a new SIM card, and I’ve been sick with a cold for a few days, still not better.”
That was indeed a reasonable excuse, and Yi Yunqiao forgave her, getting straight to the point: “Have you heard the news? Jiang Xiaoguang is in intensive care.”
Wasn’t Jiang Xiaoguang lying in Xichao? What was this new development? Yi Sa maintained her composure: “What happened to Uncle Jiang?”
“They say he’s elderly and lost his son, the excessive grief these past few days was too much for his body to handle…” Yi Yunqiao remained suspicious, “When we were on the boat, he seemed fine. Yes, he was sad, but not to this extent. Besides, he’s always been in good health – how did he suddenly collapse and end up in intensive care?”
Yi Sa said: “Maybe Uncle Jiang was just holding himself together in front of us.”
Yi Yunqiao sighed: “The Jiang family had it rough this time. Out of their three water ghosts, one died, one is critically ill, and all that’s left is Jiang Taiyue who’s too old to be of much use… Oh, Sasa…”
She suddenly lowered her voice: “I heard rumors that… the higher-ups are considering the Drifting Cave again.”
Yi Sa involuntarily shuddered: “The Drifting Cave?”
“Indeed, I felt sick just hearing about it. That cursed place has claimed so many lives from our Yi family. But there’s no choice – new water ghosts aren’t emerging, and the old ones are having issues. The Jiang family is hopeless now, Ding Haijin had heart bypass surgery, so it’s just us two, Ding Xiaohudie, and that guy called something Pan…”
Yi Sa said: “Ding Panling, right?”
If water ghosts were categorized by age, Ding Haijin would be “old,” Ding Yudie would be “young,” and Ding Panling would be in his prime. However, he was naturally wooden, quiet, and not good at socializing, so he always maintained a low profile. He was also on the boat during this Jintang opening but appeared so rarely that Yi Sa barely had any impression of him.
Yi Yunqiao remembered now: “Yes, him. Three families, only four capable water ghosts, isn’t that pathetic? But anyway, if we’re going to the Drifting Cave, I’m willing. I want to see what kind of extraordinary place could take down so many of our people. Back then, did they perhaps disturb something they shouldn’t have? After all, a place pointed out by the Founding Master shouldn’t harm us.”
Founding Master? The Founding Master’s mind was harder to fathom than finding a needle in the ocean.
After hanging up, Yi Sa felt a chill spread from her heart.
The Drifting Cave always seemed to be where everything began. Many people’s fates – Jiang Jun’s, Yi Xiao’s, and even her own – were inextricably linked to that place.
Zong Hang called out to her: “Yi Sa?”
Yi Sa collected herself and told him about Jiang Xiaoguang being in intensive care.
Zong Hang said angrily: “Ding Changsheng is… he dares to make up anything.”
Yi Sa didn’t think it was entirely Ding Changsheng’s fault.
One person couldn’t achieve this alone; it required many people’s cooperation and support. Within the three families, there was a group, though their members remained unknown.
Coincidentally, not long after hanging up, Ding Yudie called.
She first politely inquired about Yi Sa’s well-being, but Yi Sa was impatient: “Get to the point, any progress on the kiln factory?”
Hearing her urgent tone, it was clear she had emerged from her previous half-dead state.
Ding Yudie didn’t immediately address the kiln factory: “Did you know Ding Changsheng went home? Not only did he go home, but he also posted a photo on WeChat Moments – taken in front of the Hukou Waterfall on the Yellow River. It got at least eighty likes if not a hundred.”
Yi Sa had never added Ding Changsheng as a WeChat friend: “So what’s the point?”
“He rarely posts on Moments, let alone photos.”
Yi Sa suddenly understood.
This was his way of announcing to everyone that after leaving Poyang Lake, he went straight home without any stops or delays, never went to Laoyemiao, and knew nothing about the Jiang family’s affairs. If anyone wanted to question this, he had the tourist photo as proof, with eighty to a hundred people who liked it as witnesses.
He was careful and calculating at every step.
Ding Yudie finally got to the main point: “I secretly inquired around. Uncle Ding doesn’t have a kiln factory now, but he used to run one before.”
People from the three families, with family support behind them, could generally live worry-free despite receiving different levels of support based on their abilities.
However, within the families, they didn’t encourage people to be idle rich – living well without working would inevitably invite envy and suspicion. So it had long been fashionable to find a front job. Years ago, Yi Jiuge had found work as a Chinese language teacher at a school, going out early and returning late, thoroughly enjoying it.
Before joining the management council, Ding Changsheng had tried various businesses. In the 1990s, many rural areas were accustomed to making their bricks for house construction, and township brick kilns were quite profitable for a time. Ding Changsheng had partnered with several friends to run a kiln factory.
Yi Sa pressed: “So now where is the kiln factory?”
Even if abandoned, there should still be an address.
Ding Yudie had anticipated this thought: “Don’t bother. I initially thought there would at least be ruins of a closed factory, but when I asked around, I learned that the local government was building a road, and his kiln factory happened to be right in the path. After negotiating compensation, bulldozers cleared everything away. If you go look now, it’s just a paved road.”
That probably wasn’t it then. The place where Yi Xiao was held was also where many others were detained – it would need to have space, doors, and locks.
“What else did you find out?”
“I also found out that my Uncle Ding was quite a decent person,” Ding Yudie’s focus was peculiarly skewed, “He was helpful to others. He used to have rural household registration before moving to the city…”
That’s right – the three families had to live along the river, but not all riverside locations were big cities. Many people held lots of money but couldn’t enjoy the flourishing city life, having to settle in smaller places.
“For a while, he helped many former poor friends solve their household registration issues, helped them find work in the city, and even arranged for urban recruitment teams to specifically recruit in rural areas. It wasn’t easy. Now looking at that narrow-minded person, he doesn’t seem like someone who would help others. Living in the city for too long has made him less honest, and he’s no longer interested in helping poor friends achieve common prosperity…”
Yi Sa wanted to laugh but felt Ding Yudie’s criticism was quite apt: in her view, Ding Changsheng had always been self-serving, yet he had this period of tireless assistance to others, which was indeed rare.
After hanging up, there was still a long journey ahead.
She discussed this with Zong Hang.
Zong Hang had no good feelings toward the Ding father and son, viewing everything through colored glasses: “Introducing people to city jobs? How could he be so kind-hearted?”
Yi Sa said: “Looking at it objectively, helping people find work in the city is a good thing, right?”
That was true – rural people liked moving to cities, while people from third and fourth-tier cities liked moving to first and second-tier cities. People naturally gravitate upward, always seeking better living conditions.
Zong Hang said: “My dad’s factory hired many migrant workers from rural areas. Once those people earned money, the first thing they did was try to bring their younger siblings, parents, and other family members to join them, working together to put down roots in the city.”
“I don’t think that’s very good. If everyone leaves, who will farm the land? When I went to rural tourist spots with my mom, our car would pass through various villages and hamlets. The driver would point them out to us, saying which village was already empty, with not a single light at night – everyone had left, making it seem like a ghost town.”
Yi Sa’s heart skipped a beat: “Wait, don’t say anything more.”
She thought for a moment, her heart racing, then found Ding Yudie’s number and called back.
“Little moth, please work a bit harder. If necessary, hire a car to take a look around – I’ll pay for it, but keep it discreet.”
“Find out about the kiln factories within ten miles of Ding Changsheng’s hometown, even extending to neighboring counties. Since he was in this business, he must have known about his competitors near and far.”
This meant Ding Changsheng knew of and could potentially use over ten kiln factories.
“Which villages did his recruitment teams visit, and where were most of the people he helped find city work from?”
“Cross-reference these two points – are there any places that match both criteria? That should narrow down the range significantly.”
Kiln factories had many cave-like structures, some extending underground, which would indeed be convenient for holding people.
She suspected that after the Three Rivers incident when Ding Changsheng needed a secure place to hold that group of people, he first considered kiln factories.
Among the many factories he knew of, he chose one that was moderately sized, in a remote location, and not too populous, either leasing or buying it.
As for the nearby residents, he had consciously “emptied” the area gradually.
So, the “kiln factory” Yi Xiao mentioned still existed, likely located in what Zong Hang described as a place “with not a single light at night – everyone had left, making it seem like a ghost town.”