Love on the Turquoise Land

Yan Tuo walked a long way from the hotel before turning on his phone to call Xiong Hei.

Logically speaking, he had been "missing" for nearly a full day and night. He imagined Xiong Hei would be frantic when answering the call, but to his surprise, it took a while before Xiong Hei picked up, though his voice still carried excitement: "Yan Tuo?"

Yan Tuo replied, "It's me. Where should I go now?"

He listened carefully to the unclear background noise from the receiver. Xiong Hei wasn’t indoors—the sounds were chaotic, and he could even hear the barking of dogs.

Xiong Hei said, "Hold on... I’ll send you the address. Go straight to A Peng’s place... Damn it, this stupid dog, shoo! Get out of here!"

The last sentence was clearly directed at someone nearby.

Yan Tuo had a bad feeling. His earlier response—"It's me. Where should I go now?"—had deliberately avoided revealing his previous whereabouts, expecting Xiong Hei to press for details and even come pick him up. But none of that happened.

This wasn’t normal. Unless Xiong Hei had something more urgent to deal with and couldn’t spare attention for him at the moment.

He pressed further, "Where are you right now?"

Xiong Hei chuckled twice, "Handling some business. Yan Tuo, it’s good you’re back. We’ll talk when I get back, alright? Gotta go."

Before Yan Tuo could ask anything else, the call ended.

The address Xiong Hei gave led to a residential area on the outskirts of a county town, remote enough that heading west would soon bring you to open wilderness. The first phase of the development had been handed over less than a year ago, the second phase had just been delivered, and the third was still under construction. As a result, most homeowners were either in the middle of renovations or hadn’t even started yet. The occupancy rate was shockingly low—in a building over a dozen stories tall, only two or three units had lights on.

Judging by the building and unit numbers, the place was tucked in the deepest corner of the complex. As Yan Tuo made his way in, he felt like a wandering ghost exploring an abandoned garden—not a single person in sight, not even stray cats.

After locating the right building, he took the elevator straight to the third floor. The protective wooden panels inside the elevator car hadn’t even been removed yet, with a few scattered renovation flyers pasted haphazardly on them.

Stepping out of the elevator, Yan Tuo glanced around. The layout featured two elevators and two units per floor. Both doorways were piled with renovation materials, the dust-covered security doors still wrapped in intact plastic protective film.

Xiong Hei hadn’t provided a unit number, only specifying "third floor." Which one was it?

As Yan Tuo hesitated, the door to one of the units opened, and Lü Xian’s head popped out. "I knew it was you as soon as I heard the elevator. This building doesn’t have any residents yet."

He swung the door wide open and ushered Yan Tuo inside.

The apartment was a spacious flat with four bedrooms and two living areas. The contrast between the outside and inside was stark—while the exterior looked uninhabited, the interior was fully furnished, though messy. Takeout containers and instant noodle packets were scattered everywhere, and over a dozen identical pairs of men’s plastic slippers lay haphazardly by the entrance.

Yan Tuo changed his shoes. "Just you here? Where are the others?"

The apartment sounded eerily quiet.

Lü Xian pointed to the opposite unit. "This whole floor is ours. A Peng and the others—Old Four and Old Seven—are playing cards over there. I couldn’t stand the noise. The rest were called away by Brother Xiong after dark."

"Did they say what they were going to do?"

Lü Xian shrugged and spread his hands to indicate he had no idea, then asked, "Have you eaten? Want me to boil some noodles for you? Oh, and we can’t order takeout here—too many people coming and going, might attract unwanted attention."

Yan Tuo shot him a glance. "You come here often?"

"Not really. This place hasn’t been around for long. Came last year, then again in ** month, and now this time."Last year, when Lin Xirou handled private matters, she still didn’t bring him along.

During the ** month, when they entered the Qinba Mountains, she finally took him, but only to run errands and pick people up.

Turns out, she had already been bringing Lü Xian along for those two trips. Seems this place had already become a fixed base.

“Do you stay here every time you come?”

Lü Xian gave a noncommittal hum.

“What about Aunt Lin? Doesn’t she stay here?”

Lü Xian said, “This dump isn’t worthy of my goddess. Oh, by the way, Xiong Hei brought your luggage and stuff over yesterday. It’s in the master bedroom.”

Yan Tuo nodded. “Nice decor. Mind if I take a look around? Nothing too private, I hope?”

Lü Xian was completely unfazed, gesturing forward with his arm as if to say, “Be my guest.”

Though the place had plenty of rooms and could accommodate people, its primary function wasn’t living quarters.

Yan Tuo stopped at the doorway of the largest room and studied it for a long time.

The setup was… how to put it? Yan Tuo didn’t know much about medical equipment, but after getting familiar with Lü Xian, he recognized some of it. He spotted an electric surgical table, shadowless lamps, UV tubes for sterilization, and various other instruments. Without exaggeration, aside from highly specialized surgeries like bypasses or craniotomies, this place could handle everything—from minor injuries to childbirth procedures.

Yan Tuo swallowed lightly.

Though he and Lü Xian got along well, you could never truly know a person’s heart. Plus, certain topics were strictly off-limits between them, so he couldn’t speak too plainly or reveal his stance too clearly.

He said, “Lü Xian, after studying medicine for so long, this is what you’re doing now?”

Lü Xian replied, “Eh, once you make peace with it, it’s all the same. Saving lives is saving lives, no matter where. When a bloody person’s brought in, can I just stand there and do nothing? A doctor’s heart is like a parent’s. As for what they’ve done or whether they’re good or bad—that’s not my concern. My job is to keep this table running. Besides, without your dad’s scholarship, where would I be today? And the goddess has treated me well. A man’s gotta repay his debts.”

Yan Tuo pretended to understand everything. “So, not too busy, I take it? Our people ending up here—” He gestured toward the surgical table. “Can’t be too many, right?”

Lü Xian shook his head. “Not many. Mostly just broken fingers or scraped skin. But the one brought in at the start of September…” He glanced toward the front door, then lowered his voice as if afraid someone in the opposite room might hear. “Almost died. Broken ribs, nearly punctured a lung. Though, not one of ours…”

Lü Xian weighed his words carefully. “I know business is like war—bloodshed behind the scenes isn’t unusual… You should find a chance to talk to Sister Lin. She ought to rein in guys like Xiong Hei. If things escalate, it’ll be a mess. Lives are still lives, after all.”

Yan Tuo quickly pieced together the information: early September, someone (not their side) nearly died but was saved.

Seems Lin Xirou and her crew’s last trip into the Qinba Mountains hadn’t been peaceful.

As he mulled it over, Lü Xian suddenly remembered something and shared it like a joke. “Oh, right, Brother Xiong came last night too. Got a gash on his lower back. Lucky for him, he’s built like a tank—thick-skinned and tough. Even injured, he could still walk. Anyone else would’ve been bedridden. He told me to ‘wrap it up tight.’ At first, I didn’t even get what he meant.”

Yan Tuo didn’t understand either. “Wrap it up tight?”"So you're saying he wanted it wrapped up in a way that made it look like he was seriously injured? There wasn't even a wound on his head, yet he insisted I bandage half his face with gauze—I thought to myself, what's this about? If I make it look worse, will he get an 'Outstanding Employee' award at year-end?"

Lü Xian found himself particularly humorous and burst into laughter.

Yan Tuo, however, had a rough idea: Xiong Hei feared nothing in the world except Lin Xirou. Having lost the person he was supposed to escort, he was probably afraid of being scolded by Lin Xirou. So he deliberately made himself look pitiful to gain sympathy—"Look, I messed up, but I'm also injured like a dog, so go easy on me."

"And then?"

Lü Xian: "Then he left in high spirits."

"In high spirits?"

Are you sure it wasn't with deep concern? Even if Xiong Hei lacked common sense, he wouldn't be "in high spirits" in that situation.

Lü Xian said, "Yeah, it looked like he'd accomplished something great."

Yan Tuo gave a noncommittal hum, annoyed that Lü Xian's pacing was distracting him. "Go make me some noodles. I'm hungry."

...

After sending Lü Xian into the kitchen, Yan Tuo walked over and sat on the sofa.

Something felt off.

Accomplished something great—had Xiong Hei discovered something? Surely injuring Lao Dao wouldn't count as an accomplishment?

He left in high spirits last night, and as soon as dusk fell today, he called people from this side to handle business, even hanging up abruptly when Yan Tuo called him.

Glancing at the time—just past eight.

After some thought, Yan Tuo sent Nie Jiuluo a message.

—Be careful these next couple of days. They might make a move.

...

On the other end, Nie Jiuluo was soaking in the bath with a hair wrap. She hadn’t slept well last night and had been busy all day, desperately needing to relax.

The disposable bathtub liner she’d bought was too big and wouldn’t stay in place, so she kept smoothing it out with her feet. When she heard the message notification, she flicked water off her hands and picked up her phone. After reading it, she thought the warning was utterly pointless.

—From kidnapping Crippled Father, to the three-person team going silent, to Lao Dao getting injured last night—hasn’t the other side been making moves all along? And today’s the eighth—they stood up the Nanba Monkey Head group. Anyone with half a brain could guess they’d retaliate.

Everyone’s been waiting for this next move.

She tossed her phone back onto the counter, suddenly struck by the urge to challenge herself. After a pause, she took a deep breath, tilted her head back, and slowly submerged herself in the tub.

Just as the water reached her ears and was about to cover her chin, she panicked, braced her hands against the sides, and sat up abruptly.

Never mind. Too scary.

The countryside grew dark early, and with little entertainment, Jiang Baichuan had washed up and gone to bed early, video-calling Que Cha.

Que Cha, already unhappy about being left behind this time, had grown even more displeased over the past few days. Her face was cold, her eyes fixed pointedly anywhere but on him. "After being together for over a decade, you still treat me like an outsider. Yu Rong only stayed one night before Da Tou came to take her away. No one would tell me where they were going, and when I tried to follow, I wasn’t welcome. Jiang, what’s the point of keeping me in the dark? You think I’d go blabbing about your business?"

Jiang Baichuan chuckled. "You’ve got money and free time—getting facials, meeting friends for tea. Isn’t that enough? Why bother with my affairs? Why is everyone so damn nosy?"Among the people around him, Nie Er seemed to be the only one without curiosity. Jiang Baichuan thought this was a sign of intelligence—curiosity killed the cat, and cats have nine lives. If even they can be wiped out by curiosity, humans only have one life. Why rush headlong into such trouble?

Que Cha wouldn’t listen: “That Sun Zhou, after all, was someone I brought back. There’s no harm in letting me see him, right? I just want to know how he’s doing.”

Jiang Baichuan brushed her off: “There’ll be a chance, there’ll be a chance.”

Hearing his evasiveness, Que Cha knew further pleading would be useless. After a few dispirited words, she quickly hung up.

Jiang Baichuan turned off the lights and went to bed.

Today had been frustrating. His mood had soured since the tense conversation with Xing Shen that morning, and with Crippled Father and the others still missing, he hadn’t even had the appetite to eat.

…

When Xing Shen pounded heavily on the door, Jiang Baichuan was in the middle of a nightmare. He dreamed of Crippled Father kneeling with his head bowed, while a faceless figure pressed a gun to his head and said, “It’s the eighth. Your people haven’t come for you. Keeping you around is useless now.”

Then the trigger was pulled—bang, bang, bang. Jiang Baichuan sat up in a cold sweat, momentarily unable to tell whether the sounds were gunshots or the knocking.

As he fumbled to turn on the light, Xing Shen’s voice came through: “Jiang Shu, are you awake? Don’t turn on the light.”

What was going on? Jiang Baichuan felt a pang of panic. Barefoot, he rushed to the door and opened it.

Outside was pitch black. Xing Shen hissed a warning, grabbed his arm, and pulled him toward the window. The curtains were drawn tight, but Xing Shen lifted a narrow gap at the edge. “Look.”

Look at what?

It was the middle of the night, and the village had no streetlights. Jiang Baichuan was practically blind. Even with the snow-covered ground casting a faint glow, it felt like an inkstone was blocking his vision, leaving everything obscured.

But he knew Xing Shen was different—his eyes at night were sharper than night-vision goggles.

Xing Shen said, “Six to the south, three west, four east, and three north. They’ve surrounded us—sixteen in total.”

Jiang Baichuan’s mind buzzed. “Is it… them? Did you catch their scent?”

How had they found this place?

In the darkness, Xing Shen’s lips pressed into a tight line. “No. I was asleep too. Mazha suddenly got restless and started scratching at the bed—that’s when I woke up.”

Sixteen. Jiang Baichuan nervously tallied the numbers.

Excluding Nie Er, his group had fifteen people, including himself. Three were lost in Nanba, Lao Dao was sent to Xi’an for medical treatment, and two others went with him. That left nine.

Nine. They were already outnumbered. And what if the other side were the Earth Owls?

Despite the cold, sweat beaded on Jiang Baichuan’s forehead. He lowered his voice. “Should we wake the others? We have a few guns—maybe we can still…”

Before he could finish, Xing Shen’s expression changed. “They’re charging in.”

Jiang Baichuan was about to ask what he meant by “charging in” when he understood—a muffled crash came from downstairs as the door was forced open. They were launching a blitz attack under cover of night.

Xing Shen spoke rapidly. “Jiang Shu, we’ll climb out the north window—fewer people there. Give me the gun; I can take them down.”

As he spoke, the chaos downstairs escalated—tables overturned, doors kicked in. Thankfully, they were on the third floor, buying them some time before the intruders reached them.With such little time and no better ideas, Jiang Baichuan had no choice but to follow Xing Shen's suggestion. He quickly grabbed the gun from under his pillow.

The north window was located in the stairwell between the second and third floors. Xing Shen took the gun, let out a sharp whistle, and leaped down the stairs in three quick strides. Jiang Baichuan only saw a dark shadow flash past—it was Mazha, following closely behind.

He hurried after them. By the time he reached the window, Xing Shen had already pushed it open, braced his hands on the sill, and vaulted out.

The third floor wasn’t exactly low, and landing safely would take some effort. Xing Shen spotted an air conditioning unit diagonally below, gritted his teeth, and lunged for it. Luck was on his side—though the unit groaned under his weight and slid halfway loose with a screech, he managed to hold on.

From there, it was easier. Xing Shen let go and dropped to the ground, his feet hitting the earth with a dull thud of pain, but at least he landed safely.

Looking up, he saw Mazha already darting down, swift as a cat—after all, he was a beast.

Xing Shen urged Jiang Baichuan, "Jiang Shu, hurry!"

As he shouted, he glanced back. For easy access, they had rented the house at the northwest corner of the village, bordering wasteland to the west and north. The three figures to the north had clearly heard the commotion and were now alert.

Xing Shen wasn’t worried. The cover of night and the gun in his hand meant even a one-against-three situation wasn’t a big deal.

Jiang Baichuan steeled himself, swung out the window, and gripped the sill, searching below for the air conditioning unit.

Just then, lights flickered on inside the building one after another. Xing Shen’s heart lurched, and he darted into the darkness. Almost simultaneously, someone above shouted, "Hey, there’s an old man hanging here!"

Jiang Baichuan’s mind went blank. He let go of the sill, preparing to drop straight down. But the moment his hands left the window, two men leaned out and seized him by the arms, one on each side. One of them sneered, "Up you go!"