It began to rain at dawn.
Shortly after the raindrops started falling, Zong Hang awoke. Lying on the ground mat with his hands behind his head, he stared blankly into space. As the rain grew heavier, Yi Sa got up to use the bathroom, her posture and silhouette radiating dejection.
Zong Hang watched as she went in and came out, hoping she would glance his way so he could say a word or two, or at least smile at her—but she didn’t look. Instead, she knelt on the edge of the bed and fell sideways onto it.
The bed wasn’t very sturdy and creaked under her weight with a repetitive squeaking sound.
Zong Hang sighed.
He couldn’t quite tell what impact Yi Xiao’s death had on Yi Sa.
To say she was heartbroken wouldn’t be accurate—she hadn’t shed a single tear, while he, an outsider, had cried until his face was wet.
Yet to say she wasn’t affected wouldn’t be right either. She was extremely listless; after coming ashore, she had barely spoken. Withered, depressed, eating little, barely moving—except for using the bathroom and occasionally taking a few bites of food, she seemed permanently attached to the bed. Sometimes she would lie face down for five or six hours without shifting position.
When Zong Hang needed to ask her something, he had to interpret her eye movements, eyelids, and eyelashes—
“Yi Sa, Ding Yudie says the phone is ruined and we’ve lost contact with the Three Families. We need to get a new one quickly. I’ll take your ID and help him get it done, okay?”
No response from her.
That meant consent.
“Can I use your money to buy some clothes? I’ll keep track and pay you back later.”
She closed her eyes.
That meant she found him annoying and wanted him to handle it himself.
When he and Ding Yudie returned after running errands, they found her in the same position as when they’d left.
She wouldn’t answer incoming phone calls either. Once, when the ringtone kept going persistently, Zong Hang curiously checked the caller ID and said, “It’s Yi Yunqiao calling. Want to answer?”
Her eyelashes trembled, and her eyelids half-closed.
That meant he was being nosy.
Still, Zong Hang was somewhat relieved by her reaction: after all, they were sisters. He didn’t expect her to cry her eyes out, but showing depression for a few days was good—even a stone makes a splash when thrown into the water. If she had shown absolutely no reaction, that would have been too cold-hearted.
Breakfast was porridge and white rice cake, brought by the inn owner. After Zong Hang finished his portion, Yi Sa’s share had already gone cold, and she showed no sign of getting up.
Zong Hang covered her portion with a small food cover to keep insects away.
As he was about to take his bowls and plates to the kitchen, Ding Yudie came in from outside and said to Zong Hang, “I’m leaving today.”
After getting the phone working again, Ding Yudie received many calls from the Ding family urging him to return. His head had also been aching frequently, making him suspect he had a concussion from Jiang Jun’s attack. He had mentioned leaving several times already.
Zong Hang nodded, “I’ll see you off.”
Ding Yudie said, “What era are we in? No need for that!”
He walked to the bedside, sat cross-legged on the ground mat, and waved his hand in front of Yi Sa’s face. Yi Sa found it annoying and buried her face in the bed.
Ding Yudie said, “I’m leaving first. If there’s any follow-up to this matter… and you need my help, just contact me.”
Strictly speaking, their escape had succeeded thanks to Yi Sa’s idea, though the process had been exhaustingly difficult.
When they finally surfaced, their arms and legs were cramping. Only their mouths could move, continuously blowing the wugui whistle until their mouths were nearly cramped too. Finally, the released wugui arrived one after another, dragging them ashore.
Her method, her wugui—he owed her a favor, and repayment was only right. Moreover, the events at the lake bottom remained unclear and unfinished.
Yi Sa gave a vague “mm” in response.
Ding Yudie remembered something else: “I checked the main group chat, everything’s peaceful. Someone even asked when the Jiang family’s Jingtang would be postponed. Looks like they’re still covering up Jiang Xiaoguang’s disappearance. Ding Changsheng has popped up a few times too, but only saying trivial things.”
In short, everything was calm, far from the chaos he had imagined.
For the first time, he felt that the Three Families were truly deep waters. He had been sailing carefreely on the surface, while everyone around him had been diving beneath.
Zong Hang opened an umbrella and helped carry Ding Yudie’s bag as they left.
The small inn was next to the lake in a somewhat remote location. It was quite a distance to where they could catch transportation. Zong Hang intended to walk further with him. Ding Yudie initially thought he was being too polite but then decided to enjoy the free labor—why not use such willing help?
They had barely walked a few steps when they suddenly heard Yi Sa’s voice.
“Ding Yudie.”
Looking back, they saw she had come through the rain without even putting on shoes. Zong Hang quickly moved the umbrella to cover her.
She was half-soaked, water droplets rolling down her hair: “Does Ding Changsheng have a kiln factory?”
Ding Yudie looked confused: “No… I’ve never heard of Uncle Ding running a kiln factory.”
A kiln factory, like a place for making bricks and pottery, seemed like manual labor work. Not only was Ding Changsheng not short of money, but even if he were, he wouldn’t likely choose such a business.
Yi Sa said: “Then help me investigate discreetly. Not just Ding Changsheng, but any member of the Ding family who has had a kiln factory. Keep an eye out for that.”
Ding Yudie nodded.
Yi Sa seemed to want to say something else but had forgotten. After standing there for a while, she said, “We’ll keep in touch then.”
After saying that, she turned and left. Zong Hang reacted a beat too late; by the time he thought to chase after her, she was already in the rain—if he caught up now, she’d probably already be under the eaves.
Ding Yudie watched Yi Sa’s retreating figure with some melancholy and asked Zong Hang, “Do you think we… might have done more harm than good with our good intentions?”
Zong Hang remained silent.
He walked Ding Yudie outward. When it rained by the lake, mist would easily form. The thin water vapor wove through the wild grass, floating around their knees, making their calves feel chilly.
Perhaps they had messed up, their good intentions leading to bad results.
That day, after Yi Xiao’s hand fell, he thought it would rise again.
But it didn’t. Just like countless scenes in TV shows, it fell in the gesture of final parting.
He was so upset he cried.
For Yi Xiao, and Yi Sa.
Long ago, he had looked forward to this meeting between sisters. He had imagined many scenarios—tender moments, heated words, tears flowing—but never imagined it would be like two high-speed trains rushing in opposite directions, their whistles still echoing as they decisively passed through each other’s lives.
Yi Sa reached out and closed Yi Xiao’s wide-open but lusterless eyes, then scanned the mess around them and asked him, “What happened?”
Why would Jiang Jun suddenly attack Yi Xiao? Why not earlier or later, why choose this moment? Even with his limbs bound, he had resorted to biting with his mouth.
Weren’t Yi Xiao and he on the same side? It would have made more sense for him to attack Zong Hang or Ding Yudie.
Zong Hang’s mind was in chaos as he stumbled through explaining what had happened before.
Nothing happened, they just wanted to take people out, that was all.
Yi Sa was silent for a long time before saying: “He didn’t want Yi Xiao to leave.”
Jiang Jun had left something in Yi Xiao’s mind.
Just as he had once left certain scenes in her mind—after she recovered, she clearly remembered that Taiji clock hanging on the wall, the men and women in the conference room, that small seemingly ordinary sample of soil in the laboratory’s glass container.
Yi Xiao had once been completely controlled by Jiang Jun, so she must have received more information in her mind, which meant that once she fully regained consciousness, she might reveal certain secrets.
These secrets were so important that Jiang Jun acted decisively, regardless of consequences or cost, to prevent Yi Xiao from leaving.
The end of the road was empty.
The inn owner said they could wait here—soon they would see either rural public transit or private minivans, all heading to the county. Once in the county and at the regular bus station, they could go anywhere they wanted.
Having come this far, what’s a few more minutes? Might as well complete the task and see them onto the vehicle.
Zong Hang switched the bag to his other hand and turned to look at the lake view.
The lake surface was misty too, with countless ripples created by raindrops, large and small, crowding and touching each other, one affecting another in endless cycles.
Many fishing boats were scattered across the lake, made indistinct by the water vapor.
Ding Yudie nudged Zong Hang with his elbow and nodded toward the lake surface: “Jiang Jun is down there… what do you think that smile of his meant at the end?”
Yi Xiao was dead and they were leaving, but what about Jiang Jun? How to handle him?
When Ding Yudie regained consciousness, holding his swollen head, he gritted his teeth and said Jiang Jun deserved death.
Zong Hang also advocated killing him: Jiang Jun had already killed Jiang Xiaoguang, making him a murderer, and then killed Yi Xiao—two murders, death wouldn’t be enough punishment.
Yi Sa made a sound of acknowledgment: “Who will do it?”
Ding Yudie fell silent, then after a pause said: “He killed your sister, you’re family, logically…”
Halfway through, he realized how absurd his words were and stopped: logically you should kill him? In modern society, even family members don’t have the right to kill in revenge.
Zong Hang also fell silent. Just days ago, he had been uneasy about hitting Jiang Xiaoguang with a bowl, and now he was saying “Just kill him” so easily—truly easier said than done—who would do it?
Him? He probably couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Ding Yudie? He was an outsider with no deep grudge against Jiang Jun, surely getting hit on the head once wouldn’t drive him to murder.
Yi Sa? Her reaction to Yi Xiao’s death seemed more bewildered than vengeful, far from the point of wanting to kill Jiang Jun for revenge…
He strangely thought of Ding Xi.
If Ding Xi were here, there wouldn’t be this awkward situation. With his ruthlessness, he wouldn’t hesitate at all.
Zong Hang was suddenly startled by his thoughts.
He actually thought “it would be good if Ding Xi were here”—those evil intentions constrained by moral bounds could be carried out by him, thus fulfilling desires while keeping one’s own hands clean, unstained by blood, and if investigated in the future, he could be pushed out as the scapegoat.
Was this how Ding Changsheng thought? Unwilling to get his hands dirty, so he “cultivated” such a person.
…
Finally, Yi Sa decided to keep Jiang Jun alive for now.
Too many things remained unclear.
What was this underground dome about?
What was the purpose of this breathing nest, densely hidden under the pretense of Jingtang for thousands of years?
Would that Taiji clock face, embedded with the Jiang ancestral tablet, suddenly start counting at some moment? What would it be counting?
What was the secret Yi Xiao didn’t get to reveal? What did her final mumbled “thought wrong” mean? Were her and Zong Hang’s physical conditions truly “perfect”?
Jiang Jun seemed to know everything, though he never spoke. Killing him now would eliminate any possibility of him speaking in the future.
Keep him alive for now, although whether they could enter this place again remained unknown.
…
They locked Jiang Jun in the Kamado Maru in the ship graveyard.
They chose a sturdy cabin at the bottom of the ship used for storing treasures. They used not just ropes but also chains and large locks, wrapping him round and round until Jiang Jun could barely move.
Just as they were about to leave, before they could lock the door, Jiang Jun suddenly burst into laughter inside.
Yi Sa pushed the door open again.
Zong Hang saw Jiang Jun laboriously raise his head.
His neck was also bound with chains, making it difficult to lift his head, but he still did it. His eyes were still as bright as ever, and then, his mouth corners slowly curled upward.
He was smiling.
A smile of superiority, of “What can you do to me?”
A car sound came from far away.
From its size, it should be a private minivan.
Zong Hang handed the bag to Ding Yudie and said, “Let him laugh if he wants to.”
He had watched many TV dramas about conflicts.
Very responsibly speaking, in those shows, the opposing parties—whether two or more—always took turns having the upper hand.
Some laughed at the beginning, some laughed in the middle.
But who would laugh last? Until the end, no one could say for sure.