Nie Jiuluo didn't have time to return to her room. Stepping over the scattered mess, she rushed to the bedside phone and dialed the front desk.
As soon as Natou answered, Nie Jiuluo fired off questions without preamble: "Has a man carrying a large canvas bag left? A big canvas bag, a man?"
The front desk clerk was bewildered: "Huh?"
"Has there been one?"
"N-no, I haven't seen anyone."
So he hadn't reached the lobby yet? Nie Jiuluo felt slightly relieved. "If you see him, stop him immediately. I don't care how you do it—he stole something from me."
To emphasize the urgency, she added, "Worth hundreds... no, tens of thousands."
The clerk was clearly shocked by the substantial amount. "O-okay."
As Nie Jiuluo was about to hang up, she thought of something else. "Besides the main lobby, are there other exits in this hotel?"
"Yes, there are three back doors."
Nie Jiuluo's heart sank.
With four possible exits, the chance of intercepting that man had dropped to one in four.
The police arrived close to midnight—one older officer and a younger one, both quite polite. They first inspected Sun Zhou's room and then reviewed the hotel's surveillance footage.
Sun Zhou's room showed signs of property damage, but there was no indication of any physical harm.
The hotel's cameras were mainly positioned in the lobby, inside the elevators, and at the elevator entrances. None of them had captured footage of the buzz-cut man carrying the canvas bag.
Given the current circumstances—no clear evidence of a crime, no immediate threat to society—the case couldn't be officially filed based solely on suspicion. The older officer instructed Nie Jiuluo to fill out a police report, detailing the situation as clearly as possible and providing contact information for follow-up.
This was Nie Jiuluo's first time reporting anything to the police, and she had little experience with the process. Seeing that things were wrapping up so quickly, she couldn't help asking, "Don't you need to collect fingerprints or other evidence?"
The older officer smiled wryly, while the younger one enthusiastically explained, "You've been watching too many Hong Kong dramas. We don't call it 'forensics' here—it falls under the criminal investigation department, responsible for crime scene analysis."
Nie Jiuluo vaguely understood: their jurisdiction covered "criminal" cases involving "crime scenes," and it wasn't even certain whether Sun Zhou's situation qualified as a "case."
While filling out the form, the younger officer further clarified their reasoning: Sun Zhou couldn't even be classified as "missing" yet. What if he returned on his own tomorrow? Property damage didn't necessarily equate to violent kidnapping—what if he had willingly cooperated, voluntarily climbing into the canvas bag to stage a "disappearance"?
There were too many possibilities. Until new developments emerged, this would remain just a "police response record," and they could only keep an eye out for follow-up leads.
Hearing this, Nie Jiuluo began to doubt her earlier assumptions. She had initially suspected Sun Zhou was being pursued by loan sharks—but what if he had orchestrated this whole act with a friend to evade his debts?
Whatever. She had done all she could.
Once the form was completed, the older officer skimmed through it. "You're a sculptor? Does that fall under fine arts?"
Broadly speaking, it did. Nie Jiuluo nodded.
"Then you can draw, right? That's a basic skill, isn't it? Since the cameras didn't capture anything, and you saw the man's face, could you sketch a rough likeness?"
The request wasn't unreasonable. Nie Jiuluo borrowed some paper from the front desk and began sketching. Just as she was finishing, the sound of rolling luggage wheels came from the entrance.So late at night, and someone's checking in. Nie Jiuluo's hands didn't stop moving, but she lifted her eyelids slightly to glance toward the entrance.
It was actually that Yan Tuo.
But it wasn't surprising either. This small county town didn't have many options, and most well-off visitors chose this hotel.
In the dead of night, two police officers in uniform standing guard over a young woman sketching in the lobby—this scene was bound to draw attention. Yan Tuo glanced their way, but he didn't seem particularly curious. He quickly averted his gaze and headed straight for the front desk.
Nie Jiuluo finished the portrait with a few final strokes and handed it to the older officer.
The officer couldn't help but exclaim, "Wow!" The portrait was excellent, but more importantly, the subject had such distinctive features—it would be easy to recognize him. Due to his line of work, he dreaded "average faces" the most. Wanted posters would go out, only to disappear without a trace, and even the most vigilant community members wouldn't be able to pick them out.
He took the sketch to the front desk, asking the hotel to make a copy for their records. He instructed the staff from housekeeping, the kitchen, and security to check if anyone recognized the face.
The receptionist was helping Yan Tuo with his check-in, but she couldn't neglect the police. She quickly took the sketch and, like the officer, her first reaction was admiration for the artwork. "So talented—it took less than ten minutes to draw this."
The officer smiled. "She's a professional. Got the skills."
Yan Tuo glanced at the sketch. It was well done—the face was full of life, capturing the subject's expression and features perfectly.
Though it was the police's duty to respond, working a late-night shift was still exhausting. Nie Jiuluo walked the two officers to the hotel entrance before turning back toward her room. From a few meters away, she spotted Yan Tuo waiting for the elevator.
Nie Jiuluo walked over and waited with him.
When the elevator arrived, she stepped aside politely to let him board first with his luggage. Only after entering and reaching to press her floor button did she pause—he had already pressed it. He was staying on the fourth floor too.
Nie Jiuluo moved to the side, maintaining a comfortable distance, and fixed her gaze on the elevator doors, ready to step out as soon as they opened.
The stainless-steel doors faintly reflected their figures. It was clear Yan Tuo had no interest in his fellow passenger—he just wanted to get to his room.
What had he been doing in the cornfield in Xingbazi Village? Stealing corn? And what about that duck of his? Why hadn’t he brought it up? Leaving it all alone in the car overnight.
Drowsiness crept in. Nie Jiuluo lowered her head, covering her mouth as she yawned.
At that moment, Yan Tuo swiftly turned his head and glanced at her.
The elevator reached their floor. Nie Jiuluo stepped out first, with Yan Tuo following behind. His room was actually in the opposite direction, but he didn’t hurry back—he lingered by the elevator, watching Nie Jiuluo until he confirmed she was staying in the second-to-last room on the left side of the hallway.
After returning to her room, Nie Jiuluo freshened up briefly before getting into bed. But she didn’t turn off the lights right away. Instead, she brought her stationery pouch to the bedside, pulled out a pen and a long strip of paper, and after a moment’s thought, began writing.
She listed three items:
Sun Zhou was bitten by a dog during the day and was carried away in a canvas bag at night. Report to the police.
A woman in Xingbazi Village is suspected to be missing.
Encountered a man named Yan Tuo twice. There was a stuffed duck in his passenger seat.At the end, she noted the date, then folded the long strip of paper into a three-dimensional star with a few twists and turns. Squinting, she aimed at the suitcase not far away and tossed it in.
She didn’t write these things for analysis—she simply had a habit of jotting down anything memorable or novel from her day, folding them into stars for safekeeping. Most people folded lucky stars to make wishes, but for her, it was just a way of keeping a diary.
One star a day, just a few sentences, and by the end of the year, she’d have three hundred and sixty-five of them. It was easier to stick to than writing a traditional diary. At home, she already had two large boxes filled with them. All those years and dates, yet they only amounted to two boxes. Time could feel both weighty and fleeting.
When bored, she would open a box, randomly pick a star, and unfold a day from the past, trying to reconnect with it. Sometimes, she still remembered the events written on the paper; more often than not, they were long forgotten.
On her seventh day in southern Shaanxi, there were already seven stars in the suitcase.
Nie Jiuluo turned off the light and fell into an exhausted sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, it felt like she had slept for ages, yet the room was pitch black. She groped for her phone and checked—only two hours had passed.
She lay still for a while, listening to the patter of rain outside the window. Rain at midnight after a halo around the sun —old sayings were truly uncanny. Sure enough, it was raining.
Since she couldn’t sleep anyway, Nie Jiuluo got up for a nighttime trip to the bathroom. On her way back, she opened the curtains of the window facing the bed before lying down again.
This was her habit—when insomnia struck, she liked to "watch the night window." The room was dark, but outside, there was always a faint glow. The contrast between the inner darkness and outer light gave her a peculiar sense of security, as if she were nestled inside a hidden eyeball, peering out at the world. Many of her creative inspirations came during these moments of "peeping."
The rain had been falling for a while now, and the window was covered in droplets and chaotic streaks. The water stains reflected the colorful lights of distant and nearby signs, making the window look like it was draped in a dream—vibrant yet greasy.
Her thoughts drifted back to her current project.
A witch.
A witch should lurk in the night and shadows, her features and movements eerie and otherworldly. Devouring human heads was too literal and bloody. In literature, there was the concept of "expressing the essence without spelling it out"—sculpture should achieve the same effect, simplifying complexity...
Just as she was thinking this, a squirming black shadow appeared at the lower edge of the window.
Nie Jiuluo paid it no mind. After all, watching the night window often led to such occurrences: sometimes it was a bird, sometimes a stray cat. Once, while gathering inspiration near the grasslands and staying overnight in a pasture, a marmot had risen shakily outside her window in the dead of night.
But after a while, she could no longer ignore the shadow. It was climbing upward—not a cat or a bird. The squirming part earlier had been a human head, followed by shoulders and arms.
Was that actually a person ?
Nie Jiuluo lay still, her heart pounding uncontrollably. This is the fourth floor. Climbing on the exterior like this—whether for theft or assault—isn’t this a bit too much? And from what she could see, the person had no harness, nor did they seem to have suction cups or other climbing tools. How are they even doing this?
Could there be some high-profile figure staying in this hotel, and a rival went to such lengths to hire an expert for a midnight heist?
A few seconds later, Nie Jiuluo’s mind went cold.The dark figure stopped by her window, motionless, most of its body hunched there like a grotesque shape.
The sound of a latch being pressed and ground against came from the window—clearly, someone was trying to open it.
Having someone pass by the window late at night was terrifying, but as long as they weren’t targeting her, it would just be a momentary scare. But if they were after her, that was different.
Moreover, the hotel had installed the simplest, easiest-to-pry latched windows on the higher floors.
Was this person here for her? Had she offended anyone recently? Did she have some long-standing, vengeful enemy? Was she carrying some priceless treasure that others coveted?
No, none of that. She had only arrived here seven days ago and hadn’t been to southern Shaanxi in over a decade.
For a brief moment, Nie Jiuluo considered turning on the light. But then she thought better of it—lighting up the room would easily startle the intruder. If they were outside the window, the sudden illumination would send them fleeing in an instant, making it much harder for her to figure out their origins and intentions.
She needed to let them inside. Once they were in, she could handle it.
Holding her breath, Nie Jiuluo used the cover of darkness to quietly reach toward the bedside table, searching for something to defend herself with.
Soon, her fingers brushed against a pencil, and along with it, a pencil sharpener.
She silently withdrew her hand, her eyes fixed on the shadow outside the window. Meanwhile, under the cover of the blanket draped over the bed, she inserted the pencil into the sharpener and slowly twisted it.
She had sharpened pencils countless times before. Even without looking, she could roughly sense how the thin shavings of wood curled away layer by layer, softly falling to the ground—and how sharp the tip became.
The window opened. The sound of raindrops immediately grew clearer, and the cold, damp air quickly invaded the slightly warm, stuffy room.
Afraid that the faint gleam of her eyes might alert the intruder, Nie Jiuluo half-closed them, focusing intently on the sounds around her. Her back was already damp with sweat.
She was certain now—this person was here for her.
Yes, even with her eyes closed, she could sense the subtle shift in light and shadow in front of her. The intruder was already standing by the bed, watching her.
Not for money—this person had no interest in valuables. Then why? For her body? Her beauty had indeed attracted a few boys to climb walls and peek through windows back in middle and high school, but those walls had been less than two meters tall at most.
A rough touch grazed her throat—a man’s large, bony hand closing around most of her neck.
A sense of foreboding surged through Nie Jiuluo’s heart. In that instant, her mind became crystal clear.
This person was here to kill her!
Nie Jiuluo was furious. She was such a law-abiding citizen—who the hell had she offended to warrant being killed on sight?
If you’re here to steal, I’ll just scream for help.
If you’re here to assault me, I’ll stab holes all over your body and let you bleed out.
But if you’re here to kill me…
Just as the hand was about to tighten its grip, she suddenly opened her eyes and raised her arm with all her strength, driving the sweat-slick pencil she had been clutching into the intruder’s left eye.
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