Love on the Turquoise Land

The shortest distance between two points is a straight line, so Nie Jiuluo decided to go directly from Taxi to Shihe.

On the day of her departure, Nie Dongyang drove her to the station. Nie Jiuluo watched the streets flash by through the window—pedestrians and roadside trees whizzing backward as the car sped along.

Nie Dongyang struck up a conversation: "Hard to leave, isn’t it?"

There was nothing to miss. On the contrary, this trip back had washed away the last traces of nostalgia she had for her hometown.

She tapped her phone. "Uncle, I’ll transfer the money for the memorial ceremony. Send me the payment code."

Nie Dongyang waved it off. "Ah, forget such a small amount. You can pay next time."

He meant it. Nie Jiuluo’s demand for the necklace had made him realize—he had already taken plenty from her. Squeezing out every last penny would just make him look greedy.

Nie Jiuluo said, "I’ll transfer it now. There won’t be a next time."

She wasn’t coming back.

Whether it was the thirtieth or fiftieth memorial anniversary, she wouldn’t return.

Back in Shihe County.

Last time she came, it was late summer, early autumn. Now, less than two months later, winter was already setting in. Nie Jiuluo hadn’t packed enough warm clothes and had to order several winter outfits on the way, urging the sellers to expedite the delivery.

There were still two days until the eighth. She spent most of her time in the hotel reading, not bothering to ask Jiang Baichuan about Natou’s progress. Her role was simple: arrive at the designated place at the designated time and do what needed to be done. The rest—she couldn’t be bothered to ask, nor did she want to know.

That night, after a long reading session, her eyes were dry and strained. Nie Jiuluo rubbed her temples and looked out the window.

Outside, sparse white particles swirled in the wind, slanting downward under the warm glow of the room’s light.

Snow?

Considering the season, it was about time. Nie Jiuluo walked to the window and opened one pane.

Cold wind and snowflakes rushed in, but with the heater on, she didn’t feel the chill. Instead, the air was crisp and refreshing, cleansing her lungs.

Given the late hour and snowfall, the streets were nearly empty. The lights of the open-air parking lot melted into a soft, warm orange in the snowy haze. A man stepped out of a freshly parked car.

The snow was light—no need for an umbrella. The man stood beside his car under the light, tilting his head slightly as he patiently watched snowflakes gather on his coat’s shoulders. Then, with gentle fingers, he brushed them away one by one, as if stealing a moment to play a little game only he understood.

Nie Jiuluo thought, Talk about bad luck.

It was Yan Tuo.

Then again, the road wasn’t that narrow. Shihe County only had one upscale hotel. He’d stayed here last time, so of course he’d stay again. Same for her.

Once his shoulders were clean, Yan Tuo looked up at the hotel building shrouded in fluttering snowflakes.

Nie Jiuluo didn’t move. She figured suddenly ducking away would draw more attention. The parking lot had only him, but the hotel had hundreds of lit windows. He might not even see her—and if he did, she’d just be another guest enjoying the snow.

Yan Tuo’s gaze swept across the windows.

For a brief, inexplicable moment, Nie Jiuluo felt that he had seen her.

Outside, the snowflakes grew sparse—it seemed this snowfall wouldn’t amount to much.

Nie Jiuluo closed the window.

Before bed, as usual, she jotted down three things from the day. But the day had been uneventful. After much thought, she could only write: "Yan Tuo is here again. But he didn’t see me." Then, after a pause, she added a question mark at the end.After noting the date, she deftly folded a paper star. Once completed, it floated lightly in her palm.

She flicked the star high into the air, waiting for it to descend before catching it deftly. Just as she aimed to toss it toward the open suitcase nearby, the hotel's internal phone on the bedside table rang.

Nie Jiuluo aborted her throw, rolling onto her side to stretch an arm and pick up the receiver. "Hello?"

Yan Tuo's voice came through the line. "Miss Nie, do you have time to meet and talk?"

Nie Jiuluo paused, her gaze sharpening as she slowly sat up in bed. "Yan Tuo, do you not understand what 'settled' means?"

Yan Tuo replied, "I do. It means we're strangers from that day onward. But starting from zero also means infinite possibilities—as long as there's mutual benefit, we can still talk, can't we?"

Nie Jiuluo said coldly, "We're not familiar. There's no mutual benefit, and I don't welcome your calls."

Just as she was about to hang up, Yan Tuo interjected, "I've seen Gou Ya."

Nie Jiuluo's heart skipped a beat.

Yan Tuo continued, "He's still unconscious, but recovering well. I asked—another month or two, and he'll probably be climbing walls and jumping courtyards again. Miss Nie, since you don't welcome my calls, I won't disturb you further. But my door is always open to you, anytime—whether by phone or in person. I'm in room 406."

So he'd brought up Gou Ya. Clearly, he knew Gou Ya was the only remaining connection that could sustain their dialogue. With tensions brewing between them, Hua Saozi and Crippled Father had already become casualties. The only reason she could still enjoy her peaceful, cultured life was that Gou Ya remained asleep.

Room 406.

Those who achieve great things don't sweat the small stuff. Maybe she should go talk to him?

Nie Jiuluo had already thrown off the covers when she changed her mind and pulled them back up.

He was probably certain she'd come, waiting to open the door for her. Well, she wouldn't go. Let him wait—all night, sleepless.

He'd called first. He was more anxious than she was. So why should she rush?

Nie Jiuluo turned off the light and went to sleep.

The next morning, Nie Jiuluo rose early. After washing up, she headed to the restaurant for breakfast.

They say the clearest skies come after snowfall. Though the snow hadn't arrived, it had gifted them with a remarkably fine day. Nie Jiuluo collected her meal and chose a window booth. Sunlight streamed through the bright glass, casting a large, glaring patch of light across one side of the table.

Yan Tuo approached with his tray and sat down opposite her.

Nie Jiuluo lifted her eyes slightly to regard him.

Yan Tuo knew that in a crowded place, she would remain restrained and polite, so he felt no pressure. He even recommended dishes to her. "Their red bean buns are quite good—the filling is very smooth."

Nie Jiuluo said curtly, "I don't have time for small talk. Get to the point."

Yan Tuo hadn't really wanted to chat either—it was just polite conversation to break the ice. But apparently, even that was too much for her.

"Miss Nie, your companion has gone missing, yet you don't seem the least bit concerned."

Companion? Oh, he meant Crippled Father.

Nie Jiuluo replied, "They're not my companions. I don't have companions."

Yan Tuo looked up at her. "You claim to be an ordinary person, uninterested and uninvolved in these matters. Yet every time something happens, you're there. Miss Nie, what exactly is your role in all this?"

Nie Jiuluo tossed the question back. "And you? What's your role? You played no small part in Crippled Father's kidnapping, didn't you?"Yan Tuo remained silent for a moment before saying, "Believe it or not, I'm just a minor player. I didn’t know about Crippled Father being kidnapped; when he was brought in, it wasn’t my turn to interrogate him; and once locked up, I couldn’t even see him—that’s the kind of role I am."

Nie Jiuluo let out an "Oh," then remarked, "Sounds frustrating, but though your role is small, your ambitions aren’t. Seems like you’re secretly planning something, aren’t you?"

Surprisingly, Yan Tuo admitted frankly, "Yes, personal matters. Miss Nie, since we’re not close, I won’t go into details. As for you, it seems you owe Banya’s people quite a bit of money?"

Nie Jiuluo was momentarily taken aback before remembering: the night she handed Yan Tuo over to Jiang Baichuan, he had regained consciousness halfway through. He must have overheard some of their conversation.

She didn’t hide it either: "They’re short on people, and I happen to be someone who owes them money. So if they need help, I step in."

Yan Tuo had witnessed Nie Jiuluo’s skills firsthand—calling her a "valuable asset" wasn’t an exaggeration.

"So, you work to pay off your debt?"

"Right. Once it’s settled, we’re even."

Even. She really liked using that word, as if a relationship were an object that could be tossed aside with a flick of the wrist.

For the first time, Yan Tuo found her naive: "Miss Nie, debts are best settled with money. The kind of help you’re offering is too risky—like this time, if I hadn’t lied, you’d be in serious trouble."

Nie Jiuluo replied, "This is my personal matter. Since we’re not close, I won’t explain further."

Yan Tuo felt that their exchange just now had been like two people testing each other’s boundaries—only to hit a wall each time.

But wasn’t that how relationships between strangers worked? Guarded and distant.

Personal matters. Not close.

Then let’s talk business.

He got straight to the point: "Last time, Gou Ya and his group already knew about you and were looking into you. You were lucky to stay out of it. This time, if you run into them, I hope you’ll cover your face. If you’re exposed, I’ll be in trouble too."

Nie Jiuluo said, "Don’t worry about that. I have a main job—helping out is just a side gig. When I’m doing side work, I rarely show my face. Last time, revealing my identity in front of you was purely an accident."

Good. Yan Tuo felt slightly relieved: "As for Gou Ya, I can occasionally see him under supervision. If you have any discreet methods to keep him unconscious, I can help. In this matter, helping you is helping myself."

Nie Jiuluo pondered for a moment: "Leaving him under the scorching sun would work."

Did this woman not understand the meaning of "discreet"? Gou Ya wasn’t a sweet potato to be dragged out for sunbathing.

"Or using Tian Sheng’s fire to cauterize his fatal wounds would also work."

Tian Sheng’s fire was medicine for those bitten by the Di Xiao, but poison to the Di Xiao themselves.

Yan Tuo had to remind her: "Miss Nie, it needs to be discreet. Like I said, I can only see him occasionally, and I’m always under supervision. I can only make small, quick adjustments."

Nie Jiuluo studied him for a moment, as if weighing his reliability, then said after a pause, "Then I’ll think of another way. I’ll let you know if I come up with something."

Yan Tuo relaxed further: that meant she had a solution but was being cautious, wanting to observe him a little longer.

Haste makes waste. Yan Tuo didn’t press her: "Well then, Miss Nie, maybe we can add each other as ‘burn-after-reading’ contacts for easier communication."

Nie Jiuluo: "Do you have an account?""I saw it on your phone last time and thought it was really useful, so I registered."

Nie Jiuluo thought for a moment. Although she and Yan Tuo weren’t exactly "grasshoppers tied to the same rope," they did have some under-the-table collaborations. Might as well add him.

The two took out their phones and, under the glaring sun, scanned and added each other.

As for the "burn after reading" messaging app, Nie Jiuluo was a user but had always felt it catered to those operating in shady gray areas—or illicit couples. She’d assumed that apart from "Natou," she wouldn’t add anyone else.

Once settled, their relationship could indeed start from scratch, though its trajectory remained unpredictable.

Putting away her phone, Nie Jiuluo asked, "For this hostage ransom trip, what’s your role inside?"

Yan Tuo replied, "Not sure yet. Probably waiting for instructions. Most likely, they’ll give me a location to pick someone up, just like last time."

Last time?

Nie Jiuluo’s mind stirred. "Last time, were you picking up Gou Ya?"

"Yeah. Before they entered the mountains, they set a rendezvous point—in case something went wrong, if anyone got separated and couldn’t be reached by phone, they’d wait there."

"Was it set in Xingbazi Village?"

Yan Tuo shook his head. "A whole village is too broad—I’d be searching forever. It was at the ruined temple west of Xingbazi. When I got there that day, the temple was empty, but there was a ladder, a camera, and a toolbox. I even flipped through the camera and saw photos of sculptures. I figured someone must’ve been working there, so I left the temple to search further out."

That day?

Now she remembered. At noon that day, she’d gone to the eastern side of the village looking for a restroom. On the way, she’d seen a white SUV and wondered where the owner had gone. Looking back, Yan Tuo must’ve been at the ruined temple at the same time.

While she was examining the duck in his car, he’d been flipping through her photos.

The realization felt oddly intimate.

Also, why the ruined temple? Was the other party familiar with Xingbazi Village, or did the temple hold some special significance?

The temple’s backstory...

Driver Lao Qian had once told a story about a young bride...

The young bride?!

Nie Jiuluo’s scalp prickled. She’d always treated that story as just another rural legend heard on the road, never giving it another thought.

—The young bride Lao Er encountered in the great swamp wore mismatched clothes, pieced together from here and there, as if stripped off the dead.

—She’d been burned by heavenly fire. Most people would’ve died from such injuries, yet she lingered for a year.

—She devoured Lao Er.

—A Taoist priest cast a divination, saying the root of the problem lay in the great swamp. They had to seal the opening with molten iron. After doing so, similar incidents stopped.

...

Many of the young bride’s traits resembled those of a "Dixiao." But back then, the belief that "Dixiao are beasts, not humans" was so ingrained that she hadn’t made the connection.

And just now, Yan Tuo mentioned "entering the mountains"?

Nie Jiuluo blurted out, "Why did they go into the mountains?"

Not long ago, when Xing Shen and the others passed through Qingrang, they’d mentioned encountering two empty tents in the mountains. All supplies—even spare clothes—were left behind, but the people were gone.

Were they Gou Ya’s accomplices’ tents? Unlikely. Even if they were too lazy to dismantle camp, they’d have taken the gear and clothes.

Or perhaps... the people inside had been abducted by Gou Ya’s group?Yan Tuo: "They didn't take me into the mountains, so I have no idea what they're doing there. What about you? What's your assignment this time?"

Nie Jiuluo replied: "Still waiting for instructions, depends on Banya and Natou's arrangements."

Yan Tuo gave a noncommittal hum. For the first time, the conversation lapsed into awkward silence. It wasn't that he had nothing to say—he was still considering how to broach the subject.

Nie Jiuluo, however, genuinely had nothing more to say. She cleared her throat: "Anything else? The whole point of using burn-after-reading messages is to avoid leaving contact records. I think we should avoid meeting openly like this whenever possible."

Yan Tuo caught her underlying meaning: Even if we meet, you should leave as quickly as possible.