Yi Sa sprinted toward the exit.
On this end, Zong Hang was already pacing anxiously in circles.
He had first heard the car sound and thought it was just passing by. Who knew it would head this way? When he saw those mahjong players leave the workers’ quarters in a hurry to open the main iron gate, he knew he couldn’t hope for the best anymore. He quickly went to knock on the iron ladder, and after knocking, he anxiously climbed out of the ventilation hole to look around, wishing he could be in multiple places at once.
What arrived was an imposing Cherokee. The first man who stepped out was tall and sturdy, with bulging muscles on his arms that gleamed in the sunlight. His bluish bald head was eye-catching, and his whole demeanor exuded an unapproachable aura.
Ding Xi?
Zong Hang’s scalp tingled. The last time he had encountered him was on that passenger ship at Poyang Lake. How unlucky was he to run into him again?
His hands and feet turned cold, and he momentarily lost his composure.
From this distance, he couldn’t hear what Ding Xi was saying. Then, he walked around to the side of the car, seemingly opening the door for someone. Those few people standing guard remained by the car out of courtesy, but two of them had already glanced toward the brick kiln, and one middle-aged man’s hand was twitching at his side, ready to make a “please, this way” gesture at any moment.
Zong Hang anxiously crouched down by the ventilation hole again: “Yi Sa, quick…”
Before he could finish speaking, Yi Sa grabbed the iron ladder and leaped up, but unfortunately, a soft-cover booklet tucked at her waist caught on the edge of the hole and fell straight down.
Yi Sa quickly looked down.
Zong Hang’s scalp contracted: “Leave it! They’re coming over, they’re here to check the brick kiln.”
The hole was quite deep, and there wasn’t time to go down and up again. Fortunately, the black leather one was still there. Yi Sa made a quick decision and abandoned it, swiftly lifting the manhole cover to close it, then hurriedly laying bricks, pushing them into place one by one.
In Zong Hang’s mind, when things were this urgent, who cared about appearances – they should just run for their lives. But seeing her still mindful of laying the bricks at this moment, he knew there must be a reason, so he quickly crawled in to help her. When they finished making sure there were no obvious flaws, they hurriedly climbed out, but by then, the voices from outside had already drifted in.
“Uncle Ding, come, this way.”
“No, there hasn’t been anyone here. These days, not even a sparrow has landed on the roof.”
Zong Hang’s face changed color. Even if they fought to the death, there were seven or eight people outside, plus the troublesome Ding Xi…
Yi Sa remained calm. Hearing the voices coming from one side of the kiln opening, she estimated that everyone would enter through that hole, so she urgently pushed Zong Hang, indicating they should go out through the other opening.
Zong Hang understood, pressed his back against the inner wall, and quickly sidled along. When he reached the edge, he quickly darted out.
What he saw made his mind go blank: there was someone right in front of him!
It was a thin man with triangular eyes who, for some reason, hadn’t followed the usual path but had entered through this opening alone.
Triangle Eyes stared blankly at Zong Hang. Actually, he wasn’t trying to be different – it was just that several people had rushed to crowd around Ding Changsheng, and being last, he couldn’t squeeze in, so feeling dejected, he simply walked a few extra steps to enter through this opening.
Hadn’t only three people gotten down from the Cherokee? Was this face among them? Thanks to Zong Hang’s kind-looking face, Triangle Eyes was puzzled but didn’t immediately think the worst – before he could react, Zong Hang’s mind went blank, and acting first, he rushed forward to cover his mouth, while his other arm firmly locked around his face.
Triangle Eyes finally realized something was wrong. He wanted to shout, but his mouth and nose were tightly covered. He tried to reach out to grab, but both arms were pinned by Zong Hang’s elbows, and couldn’t exert any strength. His vision went black, and he nearly fainted. Suddenly remembering his legs were still free – just as he was about to kick and stamp desperately to alert his companions, his legs were unexpectedly lifted off the ground.
Sweat covered Zong Hang’s forehead and back; he only knew he was holding someone’s head, while Yi Sa was lifting that person’s feet – the two looked at each other helplessly as the person’s body thrashed like a dead fish, forming an elongated “H” shape standing in the kiln opening.
Ding Changsheng’s group had reached the ventilation hole, their voices as clear as if they were right beside them.
“Godfather, watch your head.”
“Uncle Ding, let me light the way. Once you’re down it’ll be fine. I’ll go first and turn on the power switch, then it won’t be so dark.”
The sound of moving bricks came through.
Those people were busy attending to Ding Changsheng, and probably wouldn’t remember their companion for a while.
Yi Sa gave Zong Hang a look, signaling him to knock the person out, but Zong Hang didn’t know how. She thought about doing it herself but worried that making noise would make things worse. So she nodded at Zong Hang, and they carefully carried the person toward the exit.
The courtyard was quiet, the sun was perfect, and the standing fan in the workers’ quarters was still whirring back and forth, changing direction.
They walked faster and faster, almost at a small run – they didn’t have much time: once the manhole cover was opened and they reached the bottom of the ladder if they discovered the fallen booklet, Ding Changsheng would surely become suspicious, and then they would discover someone was missing…
Sure enough, just as they rounded the main iron gate, someone shouted: “Ding Tuo, hey, where did Ding Tuo go?”
When Ding Tuo heard someone calling his name, he struggled even harder. Yi Sa let go accordingly, stepped forward, and chopped at the back of his head, not even checking if he was unconscious before shoving him into a dry ditch by the side and running away.
How could Zong Hang not follow? His mind was pounding like urgent drums as he ran too. After running through several alleyways, they heard cars roaring from behind in the distance, and someone shouting: “This way! Brother Xi! This way!”
When he looked back, he saw someone had climbed onto a roof, and from that high vantage point, with an unobstructed view, was jumping up and down giving hand signals to those below.
Zong Hang’s calves were trembling; he felt like a wild dog being surrounded and chased – this time they were probably done for…
They rushed into the woods, and that shouting rose again, seemingly impossible to shake off: “This way! This way, they went into the woods!”
Yi Sa ran to where the motorcycle was hidden, lifted it, and straddled it. Her palms were sweating too. She put on her helmet and took a mask from her bag, throwing it to Zong Hang: “Put it on!”
This was to prevent Ding Xi from seeing their faces, right? Zong Hang complied, leaving only his uncertain eyes exposed, and internally admired Yi Sa: she truly fought to the very end, her mind working until the last moment.
After settling in, she didn’t rush to leave, but stood up the leafy branches they had cut earlier, trying to conceal the motorcycle as much as possible.
The terrain of these woods was tricky – slopes on both sides with no path up, the back connected to the village, and the front led to the country road. But the kiln workers were coming up from behind with various tools, and Ding Xi’s car had already stopped in front.
The tree shade was thick, with only insects and birds chirping. Their desperate escape had suddenly turned into this uneasy waiting, which made Zong Hang uncomfortable. Besides, these tree branches and leaves were just for show – wouldn’t anyone see through them if they came close?
Ding Xi got out of the car, walking very cautiously step by step, and from behind, the coughing of those people could be heard very clearly…
Perhaps sensing Zong Hang’s nervousness, Yi Sa said quietly: “They don’t know we have a motorcycle… Hold on tight!”
Before she finished speaking, she suddenly gunned the engine. The motorcycle shot out like a bullet from their hiding place. The kiln workers shouted in surprise, some chasing after them, some throwing their shovels and hoes. Only Ding Xi, without a moment’s hesitation, quickly turned and rushed back to the Cherokee.
As Yi Sa’s motorcycle roared onto the road surface, the Cherokee also suddenly started up.
Like a meteor hammer, like a racing bird, like a rolling stone, like a fierce beast, relentlessly pursuing.
Zong Hang held Yi Sa tight, wind howling in his ears, feeling like the wheels barely touched the ground and his internal organs were about to be jolted out, dust rolling before and behind them.
Several times when he looked back, each time the Cherokee seemed closer. The last time, he could almost see Ding Xi’s grim face behind the windshield.
Through the motorcycle’s rearview mirror, Yi Sa also knew the situation was dire. Her brows furrowed, her eyes fixed deadly ahead when suddenly she shouted: “Zong Hang!”
“What?”
“Stand up, grab the plastic sheet!”
Stand… stand up? Stand up on a speeding motorcycle? Isn’t that suicidal? Traffic rules don’t allow this. And what plastic sheet?
He saw it the next second.
Just ahead, a few dozen meters away, there was a simple awning with military green plastic sheeting loosely covering it, its corners tied to posts with thin ropes, the structure rising and falling in the wind – probably used by locals for selling vegetables at their leisure.
A few dozen meters’ distance at racing speed – there was instantly no time to think about danger or traffic rules. Yi Sa swerved the bike closer to the awning, and as they approached, Zong Hang suddenly stood up, one hand gripping Yi Sa’s shoulder, the other reaching high to grab the edge of the plastic sheet…
The drag force was extreme at the motorcycle’s speed. With several ripping sounds, whether from ropes snapping or corners tearing, the seven or eight-square-meter plastic sheet was forcibly pulled down.
As his center of gravity suddenly dropped, feeling like he might fall off, Zong Hang broke out in a cold sweat. He quickly sat back down, one arm wrapped around Yi Sa’s waist as he gasped for breath, the other hand still dragging the plastic sheet, which scraped along the ground kicking up huge clouds of dust.
Zong Hang suddenly recalled watching the TV series “Romance of the Three Kingdoms” as a child. There was a scene where Zhang Fei, having few soldiers, ordered them to tie tree branches to their horses’ tails. As they rode around, the branches kicked up dust clouds to deceive Cao’s army.
That must be it! Yi Sa had him grab the plastic sheet to create dust clouds, making it hard for Ding Xi to see clearly!
Zong Hang swung his arm, wildly waving the plastic sheet, and sure enough, dust clouds rose like fog. Ding Xi cursed, casually turned on his wipers and stepped hard on the gas again, nearly crashing into them. But almost simultaneously, Yi Sa also accelerated desperately, widening the gap once more.
The motorcycle couldn’t match the SUV’s speed – it couldn’t go any faster. Yi Sa felt this distance was just right: “Spread the plastic sheet out, then release it at the right moment!”
Zong Hang froze for a moment, then his heart began racing wildly.
He understood what she meant!
He clamped his legs tightly around the bike to prevent himself from being thrown off, grabbed the corners of the plastic sheet with both hands and yanked it back hard.
The advantages of his height, long legs, and long arms finally came in handy. In an instant, behind the small motorcycle spread what looked like a giant cape, catching the wind and billowing outward.
Ding Xi hesitated, suddenly sensing danger.
But it was too late. Zong Hang abruptly let go, and the large plastic sheet flew backward, its bottom edge catching under the car’s hood while the top edge flipped up over the body, like a giant bag perfectly wrapping the front half of the vehicle.
Nothing but darkness filled his vision. The car immediately swerved, and Ding Xi had to brake hard.
When he got out and violently yanked off the plastic sheet, the westering sun was still blazing, the dust hadn’t settled, and green leaves swayed gently, but the motorcycle was long gone without a trace.
Yi Sa kept driving without stopping, didn’t return to the hotel, just took whatever roads she found, going wherever they led, getting increasingly remote: sometimes, pursuers would try to predict your behavioral patterns and tendencies, so you had to make yourself unpredictable.
She wasn’t worried about getting lost – thanks to modern society, getting lost was hardly possible anymore.
The sun gradually dimmed, everything appeared earthen yellow, and the surroundings grew increasingly desolate. The northern evening chill could make one shiver unexpectedly. Faintly, the rumble of water reached their ears, and Zong Hang suddenly got excited: “Yi Sa, is that the Yellow River?”
Yi Sa didn’t respond, but spotting a high ground, she drove the motorcycle up and slowly came to a stop.
It was the Yellow River.
This high ground was a natural viewing platform overlooking the water, though being remote and far from main roads, it rarely saw visitors.
It was Zong Hang’s first time seeing the Yellow River in person.
Though not as impressive as Hukou Falls, this section had elevation changes and various rapids, so the water was never calm. Waves crashed and churned, muddy yellow crests reaching toward the sky, revealing hints of white foam, taking various forms – like gnarled tree roots, like vigorous dragons, like grotesque demon faces – appearing and vanishing, impossible to fix in one’s gaze for even a second before collapsing and dispersing, transforming into new shapes.
The sky darkened further, and shadows flickered across the great river, light and dark dragging past in succession. There were no human voices, no traces of human construction – it seemed this was how it had been for millions of years, and how it would remain for millions more.
Humans truly seemed insignificant before the Great River. Though they had just escaped danger, and there was much to say – about their undignified flight, about their recent perils, about his clumsiness – in the twilight, amid the sound of water, everything was swallowed up.
In this moment, they forgot heaven, earth, and self.
Yi Sa turned her head.
She hadn’t removed her helmet, her eyes looking at him sideways through the visor. He could see her slanted eyelashes, one by one, their tips trembling slightly, making his heart itch with the desire to touch them with his fingertips, to let those lash-tips tickle him gently.
Zong Hang asked curiously: “What’s wrong?”
He looked back at her through the visor, and as he looked, suddenly realized.
He quickly lifted his chin from where it rested on her shoulder.
Quickly released his arms from around her waist.
Quickly shifted his body backward, trying to get as far from her as possible.
Still feeling it wasn’t enough, he clumsily got off the motorcycle and stepped back twice, like someone who had done something wrong.
He hadn’t meant to do it.
Yi Sa held back her laughter and hung her helmet on the handlebar. She hadn’t even said anything yet, seeing his little show of proving his innocence.
She got off the bike and chose a rock near the edge to sit against. The sunlight hadn’t completely faded – half the great river was golden yellow, half dark and cool.
After feeling the breeze for a while, she lifted the front of her T-shirt and took out the black leather notebook tucked in her waistband.
It hadn’t been lost despite the bumpy ride – seems they were destined for each other, unlike the other book tucked at her back that had bid her farewell before they even left the kiln.
She casually flipped to a page and saw a sentence.
– Life is precious, and everyone only gets one chance at it.
If she hadn’t read Ding Changsheng’s self-narrative earlier, she would have thought she’d gotten hold of some collection of inspirational quotes.
She flipped forward in the notebook and found there was a title page before the first page, also densely covered in writing.
Zong Hang asked: “Can I look?”
Yi Sa said: “No.”
No?
Zong Hang sighed, feeling quite pitiful – he’d put in no small effort, but when it came time to share the rewards, he was left out.
He hung his head and turned to walk away, feeling Yi Sa was being a bit unfair. He would chop at her later, of course, when she wasn’t looking.
Suddenly he heard Yi Sa call out: “Hey!”
Looking back, he saw Yi Sa had moved over a bit and patted the space she’d just cleared: “Here.”