Love on the Turquoise Land

Nie Jiuluo pursed her lips slightly and moved the flame toward his collarbone.

Live roasting was truly torturous. Yan Tuo couldn’t endure it for long—his arms trembled, the veins on his forehead and neck bulged, and beads of sweat rolled down one after another. Just as he was on the verge of breaking down, Nie Jiuluo promptly moved the flame away and grabbed something with her other hand—something cool and soft, pressing it against the edges of his wound.

Yan Tuo’s eyelashes were soaked with sweat. He forced his eyes open, blurry vision revealing a bag of water—a sealed plastic bag filled with cold water, its opening melted shut with fire to prevent leaks.

Glancing to the side, he saw many such bags on the coffee table, plump and clustered together, along with an opened bottle of mineral water with a straw inserted inside.

She had prepared everything so thoroughly. Sculpting was delicate work, and those who excelled at it must have meticulous hearts.

Nie Jiuluo said, “Yan Tuo, I have a question for you.”

Yan Tuo gave a bitter smile. “Miss Nie, you really know how to pick the timing… for questions. You’ve been asking nonstop since last night.”

Nie Jiuluo replied, “You don’t have to answer. I’m not petty—I won’t withhold treatment just because you refuse. At most, if you answer, I’ll happily roast you a bit. If you don’t, I’ll unhappily roast you a bit.”

Yan Tuo lowered his head slightly. If he’d had the strength, he would have laughed bitterly—she made it sound so casual, as if “unhappily roasting” wasn’t terrifying at all.

He said, “Go ahead and ask.”

The side of the water bag touching his skin had probably lost its coolness. Nie Jiuluo flipped it over. The skin there was crimson—it must have been excruciating.

Nie Jiuluo averted her gaze. “Is Xiong Hei and his gang chasing us down so relentlessly just to avenge you?”

Yan Tuo shook his head. “That’s what they say, but I don’t think… that’s all there is to it. From the moment they learned Da Tou could smell Gou Ya’s scent, they’ve been unusually fixated. Also, the one at the very top even questioned Crippled Father about her son. It felt like… her son had been abducted by Crippled Father.”

After speaking so much in one breath, his throat was parched, and even the saliva he swallowed felt scalding.

Nie Jiuluo set the water bag aside and handed him the mineral water with the straw. “Her son? A son of the Di Xiao?”

Yan Tuo tried to raise his hand to take it but realized his arm was stiff, as if locked in place against the armrest. He could only lower his head to sip from the straw.

“Yes.”

A son of the Di Xiao would still be a Di Xiao. At most, Banya only had one Di Xiao in his possession.

“Mazha?”

Yan Tuo weakly shook his head. “I thought of him too, but… it doesn’t seem right. It’s like… humans and beasts are fundamentally different.”

Nie Jiuluo placed the mineral water back on the table. “Hold on. Round two.”

The flame approached again.

Yan Tuo exhaled deeply, mustering all his strength to endure. Every second felt like he was about to scream in agony, yet he clenched his teeth and bore it. He forced himself to focus on the water bag, repeating like a mantra: Soon, soon, the water bag is coming soon.

When “round two” ended, Yan Tuo collapsed onto the sofa, gasping for breath. Whether it was sweat or tears from the pain, his eyes stung fiercely.

The water bag pressed against him again, but Yan Tuo felt no relief—only as if his soul had left his body, floating near the ceiling, staring down at him in mutual despair.His voice was also shaky: "Miss Nie, how many more rounds are there?"

"Almost done... seventeen, eighteen, maybe nineteen rounds."

The hope that had slightly risen in Yan Tuo because of the first half of her sentence plummeted with a biaji sound, plunging into an abyss.

Yet when the "third round" came, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up: there was no other way. He had already "sprouted," and this was a war between him and the sprouts. If he retreated even a step, the sprouts would advance, and not an inch of ground could be lost.

...

Halfway through the "treatment," Yan Tuo was drenched in sweat, as if he had been fished out of water. Nie Jiuluo gave him a mid-session break and wiped him down with a damp towel.

Yan Tuo suddenly thought of Sun Zhou: "Last time, did you treat Sun Zhou like this too?"

Nie Jiuluo hummed in agreement.

It had been a long time since she last heard Sun Zhou's name. She had no idea where he was now, but by her calculations, he had likely already relapsed—most probably locked up in a psychiatric hospital, the kind where patients had to wear restraints and were considered extremely dangerous.

She returned to the main topic: "Last night, you said that as long as I could help you escape, I could name any condition. Does that still stand?"

At this point, how could he dare to go back on his word?

Yan Tuo: "Name it."

Nie Jiuluo: "You said you were just a small player, but I feel... you're not that small. When you were with Gou Ya, he was clearly afraid of you. Later, when you were captured, the other side went to great lengths to rescue you. And last night, after you went missing, that Xiong Hei kept calling to look for you—he seemed really anxious."

Yan Tuo fell silent for a moment before letting out a self-deprecating laugh: "If you're a dog raised by the person at the very top, no matter how small your role is, others will still take you seriously."

Nie Jiuluo hesitated: "Is that 'Aunt Lin'? Lin Xirou?"

She still remembered the time she had been "kidnapped" by Yan Tuo and locked in the bathroom with Gou Ya. Yan Tuo had scolded Gou Ya then, saying, "Aunt Lin said, if you behave, I'm here to pick someone up; if you don't, I'm here to transport a corpse."

Gou Ya wasn’t afraid of Yan Tuo—he was afraid of Yan Tuo reporting him to Aunt Lin. This "Aunt Lin" seemed to hold great authority.

Later, when she checked Yan Tuo’s phone, the call log was filled with entries for "Lin Xirou." At the time, she had found it strange: wasn’t Yan Tuo’s mother long paralyzed? Why so many calls?

Then she recalled what Yan Tuo had said the night before: "The earliest one was already in my home before I was born." It sounded like a dixiao had taken his mother’s place, usurping the nest and raising him in the process—which would explain the strange relationship between Yan Tuo and the dixiao . On the surface, he seemed to be acting as their accomplice, but secretly, he was investigating "how to kill a dixiao ."

Yan Tuo didn’t speak for a long time, and Nie Jiuluo didn’t press further. She kept glancing at the remaining wounds that still needed cauterization. When her gaze landed on the one on his thigh, her mind suddenly wandered: Lucky for him. If this had been a few inches to the side, right in the middle, there’s no way I’d help with that—even if I am an art student who’s drawn nude male models and studied the statue of David. That was all for academic purposes, after all.

He can handle that part himself. If he doesn’t get the angle just right and ends up burning something important...

"Miss Nie, what condition did you want to name?"

The sudden question startled Nie Jiuluo so much that her hand jerked, dropping the water bag. Thank goodness, she thought. As long as I keep a straight face, no one will know what’s going through my mind. She coughed twice, taking a long moment to recall what she had originally intended to say. "Anyway, you'll have to go back eventually. When you do, you'll need to explain where you were all night, and those injuries won't be easy to hide. So here's what you should do..."

"Just say you fell into Banya's hands, got injured, but as a gesture of goodwill for peace talks, they treated your wounds and let you go. Ask them what it would take to get Crippled Father and the others back."

Yan Tuo remained silent for a while before finally looking up at her.

Nie Jiuluo felt slightly uneasy under his gaze. "Problem?"

"Miss Nie, you've always claimed to be just an ordinary person, only concerned with your own affairs—that your dealings with Banya were purely financial. You said you had no interest in prying into matters involving Gou Ya or the Earth Fiends."

That was right. Nie Jiuluo raised an eyebrow. She still felt the same way.

"You don’t realize it, but what you're doing now is actually stepping in to help. Like I said before, debts are settled with money. Money comes and goes—it's just accounting. But when people get involved, it becomes personal. The deeper you go, the harder it is to untangle yourself. If you truly have no interest in prying, then don’t even dip a finger in. Once your hand is in, who knows when you might get dragged in completely..."

Nie Jiuluo cut him off. "I know my limits."

"Many who fall off their horses were also convinced they were expert riders..."

Nie Jiuluo grabbed the ignition rod drying on the edge of the coffee table and rapped it twice— clang, clang . Yan Tuo reflexively shuddered from head to toe.

Nie Jiuluo said, "Second half."

...

The second half was another round of circling hell. Nie Jiuluo's technique was so good it was infuriating: she always managed to sear the flesh just enough to char without blackening, to scent it without fully cooking it, and she made sure to apply the water bag just before he reached his breaking point.

During one break, Yan Tuo asked if she could just let him pass out from the pain—at least then he’d suffer less.

Nie Jiuluo’s reply sent chills down his spine: "No. If you pass out from pain, you’ll wake up from it too. And what if you lose control when unconscious? Your willpower goes slack, and you might... relieve yourself."

She really knew how to hit where it hurt. Under the sheen of sweat, Yan Tuo broke out in another cold layer. At that point, he’d rather just die.

...

Fortunately, "endless" was just a feeling. Time passed second by second, and even the most unbearable torment would eventually end.

By the last few rounds, Yan Tuo was completely numb from the searing. His sweat had long dried up, his jaw clenched so tightly he no longer knew what "tight" meant, and his throat felt like a desert had been crammed inside. So when she suddenly covered the flame with a glass lid, he was baffled.

A second later, it hit him. "It’s over?"

Nie Jiuluo: "Yep."

Just like that? Was the searing really complete? Was she sure nothing was missed?

Yan Tuo looked down at his abdomen. "Are all those sprouts gone?"

Nie Jiuluo pinched a tissue and swept the debris from the table into the trash bin. "What sprouts? There weren’t any sprouts."

Yan Tuo: "The ones earlier... You even asked if I wanted to touch them."

Nie Jiuluo let out an "oh." "Those? That was my hair."

The trash bin was too full to take any more. She picked up an empty water bottle and pressed down hard to compact the garbage. "I twisted a few strands of hair, burned them to set the shape, then cut them and placed them there... to give you some pressure. That way, you’d feel the urgency and cooperate fully. Otherwise, you’d just be crying and screaming—how embarrassing would that be?"

Yan Tuo: "..."He wanted to retort, but truly had no strength left. His eyes closed, and he fell completely asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to the sound of the door opening and the rustling of plastic bags.

It was already sunset. The light filtering through the window was a greasy duck-egg yellow, carrying a slight chill. A blanket covered him, and Nie Jiuluo was taking something from a delivery guy.

As the door closed, Yan Tuo heard the delivery guy say politely, "Thank you for the tip."

Then Nie Jiuluo walked in, carrying various large and small bags.

She placed all the bags on the coffee table. "Awake? I figured you’d be up soon. Change your clothes and eat. After dinner, you can leave."

As she spoke, she handed him a few bags. "Try not to get the wounds wet. No showers for the first three days. If you can’t stand it, wipe yourself down with a damp towel. You can wash your hair."

Yan Tuo took them. His clothes had been shredded, and his pants were torn, so he needed a new set.

A quick glance showed everything was there—jacket, shirt, pants, even socks and underwear. Though not luxury brands, they were the best one could buy in a small third- or fourth-tier county town.

Nie Jiuluo busied herself untying the takeout containers. "I had the delivery guy make a detour to the central mall and asked a sales assistant to pick out a full set. Shouldn’t be too bad. You were sweating like you’d taken a bath—better change everything."

Yan Tuo: "The money—"

Nie Jiuluo didn’t look up. "Don’t worry, it’s all on you. I’ll send you the account details later."

Good. Yan Tuo went to the bathroom to clean up. The clothes fit perfectly. He stuffed his old clothes into a bag to throw away later.

When he came out, Nie Jiuluo was already eating. His portion had been uncovered, its aroma filling the room.

It was just ordinary steamed noodles, flatbread with fillings, and two side dishes. The taste might not have been exceptional, but Yan Tuo was starving and ate with relish, even finishing the broth.

By the time he finished, it was dark outside. Yan Tuo wiped his mouth with a tissue. "I’m leaving."

Nie Jiuluo hummed in acknowledgment and slid a phone toward him.

Yan Tuo froze. "Mine?"

He picked it up. The phone was off, but from the model and the scratches on the screen protector, it was indeed his—though now with a matte black case.

Nie Jiuluo said, "Inside the case, I taped a needle. Don’t touch it for no reason. Next time you see Gou Ya..."

She lowered her voice. "Press the needle into his wound—anywhere will do."

Understood. Yan Tuo pocketed the phone and stood.

Nie Jiuluo saw him to the door, watching as he took a few steps before suddenly calling out, "Yan Tuo!"

He turned to look at her.

Nie Jiuluo said, "Remember, in all this—I wasn’t involved."

In all this, she wasn’t involved.

In that lively southern city, in her little courtyard filled with greenery, she quietly read books, practiced her craft, sculpted pieces worthy of exhibitions, occasionally socialized, gave interviews, or flew around for inspiration.

—In all this, I wasn’t involved.

Yan Tuo said, "You trust me that much? What if I drag you into it anyway?"

Nie Jiuluo didn’t answer. Her smooth, delicate chin tilted slightly as she looked down at him, as if weighing how many bones he had and whether she should break them now.

Yan Tuo laughed. "I’m joking."When he turned to leave again, he murmured softly, "It's good to be an ordinary person."

...

As soon as he stepped out of the hotel entrance, a biting cold wind hit him. Yan Tuo's skin prickled all over, and he couldn't help shivering. Tightening his coat, he looked up at the sky.

Against the black night, countless fine snowflakes danced wildly in the wind.

Today was the eighth, just past the Great Snow solar term.

The snow that had failed to fall two days ago had finally arrived in full force, blanketing the sky and earth.

June 11, 1995 / Sunday / Light Rain

My body feels heavier and heavier.

The ultrasound says it's a girl this time. Da Shan named Xiao Tuo, so I'll name our daughter.

I've always liked the word "pioneering." Xiao Tuo got the "Tuo", so logically the second child should get "Kai" to complete it.

But "Yan Kai" sounds so harsh for a girl. Let's call her Yan Xin, with Xinxin as her nickname—meaning "happy heart." She'll be our precious darling too.

Since getting pregnant with Xinxin, Xiao Tuo has mostly been cared for by Shuang Xiu. These days, he's clearly closer to her. When I try to hold him, he pouts and resists. I pinch his little mouth playfully, saying, "Xiao Tuo, your pout looks like a little duck. Should mommy buy you a duckling?"

That finally makes him laugh, but in no time, he's back looking for Aunt Shuang Xiu. It leaves a sour taste in my heart—I can't help feeling jealous. But what can I do? With another one on the way, I'm stretched too thin.

June 22, 1995 / Thursday / Sunny (Summer Solstice)

I went for a prenatal checkup today. Shuang Xiu was supposed to come with me, but Xiao Tuo caught a cold—coughing nonstop, his little face flushed red. It broke my heart.

I left Shuang Xiu to care for him and called Min Juan to take half a day off to accompany me.

Min Juan came, but she nagged the whole way: "Where's your Da Shan? The child isn't just yours. Did he just plant the seed and wash his hands of it?"

I explained that Da Shan was busy—the city is building a mall, and his construction team is scrambling to bid for the project. These days, he's even let go of mining affairs.

Maybe I'm overthinking it, but Min Juan's tone felt oddly sour. She said, "Keep an eye on your man. Your Da Shan's pockets are bulging now, and those little vixens out there are drooling."

I said that wouldn't happen—Da Shan is family-oriented. Whenever he has time, he stays home and won't leave even if you push him out.

Min Juan replied, "Of course, with such a pretty little maid waiting at home."

What kind of talk is that! Angry, I walked off without her.

And she calls herself a friend—why the snide remarks?

On the way home, I passed by the market and thought of buying some pears to make rock sugar pear soup for Xiao Tuo.

Unexpectedly, I ran into Changxi. That scatterbrained boy had picked out a fish, had it cleaned, and only then realized he didn't have enough money. The vendor was furious, yelling and cursing. Changxi, honest to a fault, stood there like a wooden post, taking the abuse, his neck flushed red.

I couldn't stand it. I stepped in, paid the money, and scolded the vendor. Changxi was terrified, pulling me away, afraid the man might hit me.

I wasn't scared. "Try hitting me—I'm carrying a baby. See if you can afford it!"

Changxi walked me home. The whole way, I felt like he had something to say.

I asked if he was short on cash and wanted to borrow money, telling him not to be shy and to speak up if he needed help.Changxi hesitated for a long time before finally blurting out, "Sister Lin, you should... let go of that little nanny at your place."

Why? I grew nervous and asked him, "Has Shuang Xiu been mistreating my Xiao Tuo behind my back?"

Changxi quickly shook his head. "You're the only one who doesn't know. Everyone outside is saying..."

He glanced at my belly and fell silent. When I pressed him further, he actually turned and ran.

There must be something bad—he was afraid of upsetting me and harming the baby.

A terrible feeling washed over me. Could Min Juan's warnings have been right?

When I got home, I crept in like a thief, slowly holding my breath as I opened the door. Only when it swung open did I realize how foolish I was being: Da Shan wasn't home these past few days—what exactly was I trying to catch?

Xiao Tuo's door was slightly ajar. I quietly moved closer and saw him lying in bed while Shuang Xiu told him a myth.

After listening for a while, I realized it must be the story of Kuafu Chasing the Sun.

"Kuafu said nothing could stop him from bringing the sun back for everyone," Shuang Xiu narrated.

"He faced countless dangers, until finally, his strength gave out and he collapsed. But he refused to give up. He desperately clawed forward with his fingers, scraping until they bled, the white bones showing through—yet still he clawed..."

Are children's books these days written to be so terrifying? It's quite different from what I heard as a child.

I heard Xiao Tuo stammer, "Then... then Kuafu's hands must have been ruined, right?"

Shuang Xiu replied, "Yes, he clawed until he died—and still failed. He even scraped three fingers down to the bone. How tragic."

Xiao Tuo scrunched up his face, counting his fingers as if he could feel the pain himself.

It made me laugh.

—[Excerpt from Lin Xirou's Diary] 0