Love on the Turquoise Land

Yan Tuo followed Xiong Hei down to the second underground level. It was already past working hours, and the place was eerily quiet, though brightly lit. They didn’t encounter a single person along the way.

Xiong Hei opened the door to a small room. “Take a look.”

A foul stench of urine and feces assaulted them. Yan Tuo instinctively held his breath and focused his gaze. Crippled Father sat cross-legged in the center of the room, hands tied behind his back, grinning crookedly at the door. His face was swollen like a basin, deathly pale, with eyelids so puffed they gleamed. His mouth was twisted, and a mixture of drool and blood dripped incessantly from one corner.

These people—killing or driving others insane was just routine for them.

Yan Tuo reminded himself not to show any emotion. He had neither the right nor the strength to do so.

Xiong Hei looked utterly distressed. “I thought the medicine seemed to be working, so I got carried away and forgot to hold back. Now, just when we finally had a lead, I messed it up again. This is the second time. Lin Xirou is going to skin me alive.”

Yan Tuo said, “It’s fine. Maybe it’s temporary. Don’t push him for now. Let him rest, have some water and food. He might recover.”

Xiong Hei wasn’t optimistic. “But what if he doesn’t? I’m finished.”

“How could that be? Just find another lead.”

Xiong Hei was so agitated he wanted to stomp his feet. “What other lead? If there were any, I wouldn’t be this desperate!”

Yan Tuo gestured toward Crippled Father. “He’s in your hands—a hostage. With a hostage, won’t his accomplices talk?”

Xiong Hei was speechless, thinking Yan Tuo was as dumb as a donkey. “Are you stupid? We can’t find his accomplices!”

“Back then, you couldn’t find the people who kidnapped me either. What did you do then? His accomplices are hiding, but that doesn’t mean they won’t receive the message you put out.”

It took Xiong Hei a full ten seconds to grasp the idea, his face flushing with excitement. “Not bad. We really picked the right person by bringing you in.”

Yan Tuo smiled faintly.

Truthfully, whether he mentioned this method or not, Lin Xirou would have thought of it. But pointing it out while Xiong Hei was in a panic would make him feel a sense of camaraderie and trust. That would make it much easier to extract information or get things done later.

Just as he was pondering this, Crippled Father suddenly let out a loud, eerie “Aha!”

The sound was startling, rising like an operatic note. Yan Tuo jumped, while Xiong Hei cursed, “Damn it, here we go again!”

As he spoke, he grabbed a small towel from the table, crumpled it into a ball, and strode toward Crippled Father.

Crippled Father even provided his own accompaniment: “Clang clang dong dong clang! With knives and dogs, we march through the green earth…”

Xiong Hei seized Crippled Father’s hair and shoved the towel into his mouth. Crippled Father’s head swayed stubbornly like a pendulum. “Ghost hands crack the whip, pearls shine bright, clang clang dong dong… mmm, mmm… mad dogs lead the charge, mmm, mmm… the crazy blade sits, mmm…”

Finally, his mouth was fully gagged.

Yan Tuo pretended to find it amusing. “What’s he babbling about?”

Xiong Hei acted nonchalant. “Pfft, country folk. Who knows what rural opera he picked up somewhere?”

After work, Qiao Ya went to her uncle’s place to check on Sun Zhou.

As soon as the door opened, she was hit by a musty, fishy odor. She assumed it was because the house had been vacant for too long, with sewer gases rising. “How can you stand this smell? Didn’t you think to open a window?”

While speaking, she rolled up her sleeves and briskly opened both the front and back windows.

Sun Zhou lounged lazily on the sofa, watching TV. “If I open them, I’ll just have to close them later. Too much trouble.”"Then you might as well not eat at all. If you eat, you'll have to go to the bathroom. If you never eat, you'll never have to go." Qiao Ya opened the fridge. "What did you eat today?"

After settling Sun Zhou at his uncle's place, she had stocked the fridge with a bunch of frozen ready-to-eat meals.

"Dumplings."

How novel. The instant bread and cakes were untouched, yet he actually bothered to cook dumplings. No need to say—the pots and pans were left for her to wash. Qiao Ya stormed into the kitchen in a few quick strides.

The sun must have risen from the west today. The counter was spotless, and the dishes were neatly arranged. Sun Zhou, who was usually as lazy as a dog, had changed after his stint in that medical pyramid scheme?

Qiao Ya puzzled over it for a while before lowering her gaze to the trash can at her feet. Something looked odd.

She crouched down to look—it was peeled-off dumpling wrappers, raw, thawed into mushy cotton-like shreds, limp and sagging over the existing trash.

What kind of operation was this? Eating the filling but not the wrapper? Even if so, it’d be easier to peel them after cooking. Who’d ever heard of peeling the wrappers off frozen dumplings raw?

Qiao Ya left the kitchen, intending to ask Sun Zhou about it. But the moment she stepped into the living room and saw him in the same posture as when she first arrived, her anger flared. She strode over and blocked his view of the TV. "Hey!"

Sun Zhou’s gaze had nowhere to land and finally lifted to look at her. "Huh?"

Qiao Ya couldn’t hold back her frustration. "What exactly is going through your mind? You lost your job at the travel agency because you ditched clients and went missing for a month. First, you said you were starting a business with friends, then it was some pyramid scheme claiming they’d cure your injury. Fine, I don’t care about any of that—it’s all in the past. But now that you’re back, can’t you at least act right? Lounging around like a spoiled brat every day—do you think you’re rich? Do you even own a house? Planning to get married empty-handed..."

Her phone rang—couldn’t even let her argue in peace. Qiao Ya picked it up and saw an unfamiliar number—she shopped online a lot, so it was probably a Taobao seller.

She stepped aside and answered irritably, "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was a woman’s, gentle and calm. "Is this Miss Qiao Ya? Is Sun Zhou with you?"

Who was this? Before Qiao Ya could react, the voice was already guiding her. "If he is, stay calm. Don’t panic or let him notice anything unusual, in case he suddenly attacks or hurts you."

Qiao Ya was bewildered. "Okay."

She glanced at Sun Zhou—he was back to watching TV, his expressionless face shifting between light and shadow with the screen’s glow.

"Miss Qiao, don’t be afraid. Sun Zhou has been severely infected by a virus. The changes in his facial muscle texture are just one of the symptoms..."

Qiao Ya didn’t dare look at Sun Zhou again, afraid her eyes would betray her. It was true—she had noticed his face looked much worse since he returned.

"He suffers from severe delusions. Despite our repeated efforts to stop him, he’s become heavily reliant on raw and bloody food..."

Qiao Ya’s mind flashed to the dozen or so thawed, mushy dumpling wrappers in the trash. Could it be... he ate the raw filling?

"If you don’t believe me, you can test it. Do you have any raw meat at home? Remember not to observe him directly—he’ll disguise himself. Try it, and don’t hang up yet."

Qiao Ya hummed in acknowledgment. Though half-doubting, she set the phone down as naturally as possible. "So annoying. Returning stuff is such a hassle—they’re never straightforward."Sun Zhou responded with an "Oh."

His head felt heavy, his attention scattered. He could barely keep up with the actors' lines—by the time he processed the first sentence, they were already on their fourth or fifth.

Qiao Ya opened the fridge door, rustling through its contents before forcefully tearing open a pack of hotpot beef slices. She bent down to sniff them. "What's going on? These smell off. Have they gone bad?"

As she spoke, she held them out toward Sun Zhou. "Right? I should file a complaint about this."

Sun Zhou didn’t take them. "Why bother?"

Qiao Ya slammed the meat onto the coffee table. "Oh, so you’re the big shot here, huh? Just sitting around doing nothing. Too much effort to even take a sniff?"

Like during their usual spats, she stormed off to the bedroom in a huff—except this time, it was an act.

After waiting about half a minute, she cautiously cracked the bedroom door open just a sliver.

She saw that Sun Zhou was no longer focused on the TV. His gaze was fixed on the meat, and several times, he even glanced toward the bedroom.

Qiao Ya pressed a hand to her chest—her heart was pounding so hard that holding it there made her feel slightly better.

Sun Zhou’s hand slowly reached for the bag, his fingers hooking out a slice of meat. The frost on it gradually melted at room temperature. After a pause, like a thief, he quickly shoved the slice into his mouth, devouring it like a rabid dog.

Qiao Ya’s mind exploded. She felt like she might faint. Closing the door, she quietly turned the lock, then shakily brought her phone back to her ear, her voice barely audible. "Hello?"

Right now, the woman’s gentle voice on the other end was her only comfort.

"Miss Qiao, you must stay calm. This illness... it’s contagious to some extent..."

Qiao Ya’s legs nearly gave out.

"In the past few days, have you... had sexual contact with him?"

Qiao Ya shook her head violently, her voice trembling with tears. "N-no, but we’ve kissed..."

That probably counted as fluid transmission. A wave of nausea hit her, and she fought the urge to vomit.

"Has he scratched or clawed at you?"

A flicker of relief. "N-no."

"Then it’s... probably not too severe. He doesn’t suspect you, does he? Send us your location, then act as normal as possible and leave the premises. Miss Qiao, if he attacks you during your escape, don’t resist. Cooperate fully to protect yourself. Once we arrive, we’ll handle the rest."

The bedroom had a window, but it was barred—no escape there. The thought of having to open this door and walk past that terrifying version of Sun Zhou in the living room nearly brought her to tears.

"Can’t I just stay in the bedroom and lock the door? Sun Zhou is... in the living room."

The woman paused briefly. "That’s fine too. But try to barricade the door if you can."

Even though she knew the other person couldn’t see her, Qiao Ya nodded frantically. She’d seen the horror classic The Shining —the scene where the deranged husband axes through the door, his face pressing through the gap, was seared into her memory.

After hanging up, she shakily sent her current location, then took deep, steadying breaths. As quietly as she could, she began pushing the dressing table across the room, inch by inch, until it was wedged firmly against the door.

...Sun Zhou didn’t come knocking. He kept watching TV, though it was unclear what program was playing—just that the music was particularly cheerful. Qiao Ya clutched the base of the lamp, sitting with her back pressed against the dressing table. One moment she was trembling with fear, the next she was so anxious she could barely breathe. The woman had said, "It shouldn’t be too serious," but was it really not serious?

Extreme tension could make one unusually alert, but it could also lead to exhaustion. As time ticked by, Qiao Ya, caught between terror and dazedness, actually dozed off.

She was jolted awake in the middle of the night by the sounds of crashing, scuffling, and struggle in the living room. But soon, the noise stopped.

Footsteps approached and paused outside the bedroom door, followed by a soft knock: "Miss Qiao, are you alright?"

It was that woman. Qiao Ya exhaled in relief, her tongue nearly tripping over itself. "Y-yes, I’m fine."

She gripped the table leg to stand up, then mustered all her strength to push the dressing table aside.

The door opened, revealing a woman in a hazmat suit and mask, only her gentle, upturned eyes visible, giving off a warm and approachable vibe.

In the living room, a few other figures in hazmat suits moved about.

Qiao Ya felt like crying again: they were so thoroughly protected, while she was practically "fully exposed."

The woman first flashed her credentials—though it was just a quick glimpse in front of Qiao Ya’s eyes. She barely caught the words "XX Branch," along with an official seal and a striking red stamp.

"Miss Qiao, I recommend you get a blood test in the next couple of days. This disease is primarily bloodborne. As long as your blood cell counts aren’t significantly abnormal, you should be fine."

Bloodborne? Then she was probably safe. Qiao Ya’s nerves settled, but her body went limp, and she nodded weakly.

"We’ll handle the follow-up with immediate family and sign the necessary confidentiality agreements, so we won’t go into details with you."

Qiao Ya nodded mechanically again. The personnel in the living room withdrew, and the woman turned to leave.

"Wait—" Qiao Ya couldn’t help but ask, "Will Sun Zhou... recover?"

The woman replied, "We’ll do our best. But I should warn you—even if he recovers, he’ll likely remain a carrier for life. The host also loses reproductive capability, and there’s a risk of paralysis in later stages."

Qiao Ya had originally intended to see them out, but at those words, her legs gave out. She clung to the doorframe, unable to move.

She watched the woman’s retreating figure disappear through the door, listened to the fading sound of the car, and then—silence. The apartment, the building, everything fell into a chilling quiet, so cold it left her chest hollow.

Shouldn’t she be heartbroken right now? But she wasn’t. And suddenly, she understood the saying: "Husband and wife are birds of a pair, but when disaster strikes, each flies alone." Besides, she and Sun Zhou weren’t even married.

A lifelong carrier? No way. She couldn’t be with someone who was sick—her family had warned her, even hepatitis B was a dealbreaker.

And no reproductive ability?

Not to mention the risk of paralysis. Was she, in the prime of her life, supposed to care for a paralyzed patient until old age? What had she done to deserve this?

Better to cut ties early. It might sound heartless, but wasn’t it better than a future of hardship?

...

In the spacious backseat of the off-road vehicle, Que Cha pulled off her hooded cap, exhaling deeply before lazily cutting open the full-body hazmat suit with scissors.

Da Tou, sitting in the passenger seat, turned to look at her. "Everything go smoothly?""Everything went smoothly," Que Cha picked up the fake work ID again to examine it. "Young girls, no social experience, easy to fool."

Shan Qiang beside her chuckled. "Look at you, you were a young girl once too. Now that you've grown into a big woman, you go around tricking little girls. Why must women make things hard for each other?"

The off-road vehicle erupted in laughter. In the back, Sun Zhou thrashed weakly like a dying fish, occasionally twitching.

Que Cha laughed along, but as she did, she turned to the window, staring at her own reflection—eyes filled with hidden thoughts.

What a sin, she thought.

Then again, taking Sun Zhou away from Qiao Ya was necessary. To Sun Zhou, she might be the villain, but for Qiao Ya... this was the right thing to do, wasn't it?