Love on the Turquoise Land

Nie Jiuluo's words painted a vivid picture, and just imagining it sent chills down Yan Tuo's spine. Thinking further, Lin Ling had actually experienced it firsthand—no wonder she was so terrified she called him in the middle of the night.

He sat for a moment before saying, "Let me show you something."

As he spoke, he picked up his phone and logged into his email—the Excel spreadsheet was stored in a hidden directory on his computer, but since carrying a laptop around was inconvenient, he had also saved a copy in his email.

Before opening it, he explained to Nie Jiuluo, "This spreadsheet was stolen from Aunt Lin's computer. Personally, I think it might be the most current list of Dixaos."

"A list of Dixaos?"

Nie Jiuluo was astonished. "You actually got your hands on a list of Dixaos? I never would’ve guessed you’ve been so busy behind the scenes."

Yan Tuo gave a self-deprecating laugh.

There was an old saying: "Keep your head down to pull the cart, but also look up to see the road." Over the past few years, he couldn’t see the road at all, so he had simply thrown himself into pulling the cart—gathering every scrap of information, piecing together fragments like assembling a massive jigsaw puzzle.

He had certainly felt despair, frustration, and doubt. But then he thought, stopping meant losing everything, whereas pushing forward at least gave him something to hope for. They said heaven rewards the diligent—surely, after all his effort, heaven wouldn’t let him down.

He had opened this spreadsheet countless times before, never grasping its significance. But this time, a secret finally surfaced.

He zoomed in on the page and showed Nie Jiuluo No. 017, Zhu Changyi.

"This is the most recent one. He’s in Anhui, working as a construction laborer, cohabiting with a woman named Ma Mei. Ma Mei has a nine-year-old child named Zhou Xiao with her ex-husband, Zhou Dachong."

Then he scrolled to No. 014.

"This one is Shen Lizhu, in her fifties, working as a waitress at a hotpot restaurant in Chongqing. She has a sworn younger sister named Yu Caiyan, and they share an apartment. Yu Caiyan has a six-year-old daughter."

At first glance, Nie Jiuluo didn’t see anything unusual about either entry, but when comparing the two, a pattern emerged, and she couldn’t help but gasp.

Yan Tuo said, "You see it too, right? These people are scattered across the country in all sorts of professions. Before, I couldn’t make sense of it—thought it was just about not putting all their eggs in one basket to minimize risk. But after talking to you, I suddenly realized we should be looking at it the other way around."

He had asked Lin Ling to follow up on this spreadsheet, especially focusing on these people’s close relationships. Only now did he realize that the most overlooked, invisible figures in the table were actually the most crucial.

Where had Ma Mei’s ex-husband, Zhou Dachong, gone?

Since Yu Caiyan had a daughter, she must have had a husband at some point. Where was that husband now?

Applying the logic of the young bride’s story, could these invisible figures be the "bosses"?

And Zhou Xiao, Xixi—were they the second generation, sharing close blood ties with the "bosses"?

These Dixaos had quietly become part of their lives, even their friends and family. It made sense—their "tonics" would naturally be kept close, locked within sight for safekeeping.

Nie Jiuluo was silent for a moment. "Are the others like this too? Do they all have children around them?"

Yan Tuo shook his head. "Lin Ling could only follow up on so much, so some of the close relationships couldn’t be traced and were left blank. There are also cases without children. Look at this one."

He opened No. 006, Wu Xingbang, a man in his thirties from Henan who worked as a taxi driver."He had a girlfriend named Xu Anni. She started out as a hostess in a nightclub but later left that life behind and became a waitress at a restaurant. Lin Ling mentioned to me that she once overheard Aunt Lin ordering Xiong Hei to kill someone. Of course, she didn’t witness it herself—she only heard it."

"The victim was begging loudly for mercy, saying she had a daughter named An’an, just in ninth grade, and that if she died, her daughter would be left helpless and orphaned."

Xu Anni, An’an—both names contained the character "An."

Nie Jiuluo’s heart stirred. "This Xu Anni, is she…?"

Yan Tuo gave a quiet hum. "The age matches. I suspect that after the victim died, Xu Anni was left with no support. She couldn’t continue her education after ninth grade and later became… a hostess. It wasn’t until this Wu Xingbang appeared that she managed to leave that life."

Nie Jiuluo felt a pang of sorrow. Women easily empathized with other women. "It’s possible Xu Anni even sees Wu Xingbang as her savior."

Yan Tuo: "Doesn’t it seem ridiculous? These two are in a relationship now, but they can’t possibly have children. If I’m not mistaken, Wu Xingbang, like Aunt Lin, has already started thinking about forcing a pregnancy."

Nie Jiuluo was silent for a long while, slowly leaning back. Compared to this cold, harsh world, the pillow, blanket, and soft bedding suddenly felt much more comforting.

It was too tragic.

She had asked Yan Tuo to recount the events of the past few days to gauge how things were unfolding and whether she could remain safe. She never expected to uncover such a horrifying story.

Not a story—it was real, happening right now.

Yan Tuo glanced at her. "Tired?"

It was almost one in the morning. He didn’t mind, but she was injured—ordinary people suffered from staying up late, let alone someone in her condition.

"Should we rest first?"

Nie Jiuluo shook her head. "What about the people involved, like Xu Anni? What do you plan to do?"

Yan Tuo said, "I’ll think of something. If I can save even one, I will. How can I just stand by and watch them suffer like that?"

Nie Jiuluo: "There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Your mother is completely paralyzed and in a coma, and your father passed away—was that related to Lin Xirou?"

Yan Tuo didn’t deny it. After a pause, he added, "There was also a younger sister. When she was just over two, Aunt Lin took her away. She’s been missing ever since."

Nie Jiuluo: "I’ll say something selfish—killing Lin Xirou would be revenge enough for your family, wouldn’t it? The others are indeed suffering, but you’ve never even met them, yet you want to save them. Whether or not you even have the ability aside, don’t you think you’re overextending yourself? People in distress pray to the heavens, but does the heavens answer every prayer? If even the heavens can’t manage, how can you?"

Yan Tuo laughed. "Are you trying to say this man is a real saint?"

Nie Jiuluo: "Not exactly. If I were Xu Anni and a stranger saved me like this, I’d be willing to kowtow to you in gratitude."

Yan Tuo met Nie Jiuluo’s gaze. "Miss Nie, perhaps our definitions of ‘revenge’ differ. Do you think I’d be satisfied with just killing Lin Xirou?""My father is dead, and the dead don't come back to life. My mother is completely paralyzed, beyond any hope of recovery. Any day now, the care facility might call me to arrange her funeral. My sister has been missing for over twenty years. I haven't given up searching, but I've long been mentally prepared that she might already be dead. With all this, do you think killing Lin Xirou would truly bring closure?"

Nie Jiuluo remained expressionless: "Then what do you mean by 'closure'?"

Yan Tuo had been leaning forward but now slowly settled back into his chair: "After she came to our family, she used my father's influence to gradually establish herself, build her fortune, and operate for over twenty years to reach her current scale. Everything she's built—I want to pull out every nail, smash every wall. However she crawled up from the underground, I'll make her crawl back down."

So every time he rescued someone like Xu Anni, it was like slapping Lin Xirou hard across the face.

Saving people was both the conscience of being human and the path of his revenge.

After a long silence, Nie Jiuluo finally spoke: "I'm not mocking you, but doing this alone is nearly impossible. You even struggled to save Lin Ling."

Yan Tuo couldn't argue. He burst into laughter, which eventually faded into a soft whisper: "True."

That's why he cherished his life—the longer he lived, the more he could accomplish. Even when taking risks, he weighed every ounce, only venturing when it was worth it.

Nie Jiuluo said, "But actually, there are people who could help you."

Yan Tuo had an inkling: "Are you talking about Jiang Baichuan's group?"

"Don't you think so? Even if you've had unpleasant history with them, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. They can rely on your intel, and you can leverage their manpower. I haven't interacted much with Banya's people, and they're probably not saints either, but you're not looking to make friends, are you? Mutual benefit can lead to win-win outcomes. Besides, I think you should reach out to them—at least let them know you're not one of the 'ghost servants.'"

It was necessary. Extremely necessary. Otherwise, they might come after him again someday.

Nie Jiuluo observed his expression: "If you're interested, I can be the intermediary, help bridge the connection."

Yan Tuo's mind raced.

As an adult, setting aside emotions and personal likes or dislikes, he had to be pragmatic.

He needed allies, and fast. The remnants of the Tóu Jūn were the best fit—they understood the origins of the Dì Xiāo, were more capable than ordinary people, and could afford to take risks.

He nodded: "Alright."

Then he asked her: "What about you?"

Nie Jiuluo was taken aback: "What about me?"

"What are your plans going forward?"

She replied casually, "Recover, I guess. Once I'm healed, I have work to do—lots of projects. If you need my help or want to borrow my knives, you can come find me."

After a pause, Yan Tuo smiled and said, "Alright."

The answer didn't surprise him. From the very beginning, she had positioned herself as an outsider, repeatedly emphasizing she was just an "ordinary person" with "no stake in this."

She had been hurt by the Dì Xiāo, but she had personally killed one of her assailants, and the other was already trapped. In a way, her vengeance was settled.

Lying here injured, her happiest moment had been when she saw the professional sculpting books he brought her.People in ancient times, when venturing into danger, often said, "I'll stake my life and fortune on this." She truly had both life and fortune, and without strong motivation, she wouldn't place herself beneath a crumbling wall.

This evening was truly precious—that fleeting sense of companionship had briefly graced them.

He cleared his throat. "Where were we just now?"

With the foundation laid, the subsequent matters became much easier to unravel.

First, regarding the "tonic." The term "blood sac," frequently mentioned by Lin Xirou and her group, seemed to refer to this tonic.

"Born from the blood sac, nourished by the blood sac"—clearly, the blood sac was of great importance.

After Gou Ya devoured the woman from Xingbazi Village, he was accused of being omnivorous and "tainting the blood," even facing execution. "Tainting the blood" seemed to imply "disrupting the bloodline."

As for Li Yueying's poor health, according to Chen Fu, it was because "the blood sac wasn't chosen well." It appeared the quality of the blood sac could affect a Di Xiao's constitution. Li Yueying's condition must have been quite severe, as Gou Ya had shouted before his death, "You're next—we're all sacrifices."

Next was the execution ritual.

The discovery that a mixture of mucus and natural fire could kill a Di Xiao was new—even Nie Jiuluo hadn't heard of it before.

She speculated that the mucus, including the short spines under the tongue, usually didn't appear. When a Di Xiao "displayed its tongue," it was a sign of extreme rage and murderous intent, triggering this physiological change, which helped them subdue enemies.

The mucus likely had some toxicity and corrosive properties. "Humanized" Di Xiao no longer had the sharp canines for tearing and chewing, yet Gou Ya had managed to consume the woman from Xingbazi Village entirely within a night or two, leaving no trace of flesh, blood, or bones. This was probably due to the spiny tongue and mucus.

Then there was the "Black-White Abyss," mentioned twice by Feng Mi.

Nie Jiuluo knew of the place but had never been there, so she could only give Yan Tuo a rough explanation.

According to her, the Black-White Abyss was actually a region within the Golden Gate, beneath the surface. The Turbaned Army had a tradition of "not entering the Black-White Abyss." When Jiang Baichuan and his group traversed the Green Earth, they only ventured as far as the edge of the abyss.

Feng Mi spoke of the Black-White Abyss with an almost nostalgic tone, which piqued Yan Tuo's interest. Subconsciously, he felt the abyss might be the Di Xiao's lair.

So he asked a few more questions: "If you don't enter the Black-White Abyss, is there some kind of boundary marker? Otherwise, underground is just pitch black—what if you accidentally take a few extra steps?"

Nie Jiuluo replied, "There is."

"According to Jiang Shu, there are terracotta figures at the edge of the Black-White Abyss—mostly human figures, no horses. After all, underground isn't exactly ideal for horses. He once visited the Terracotta Army in Lintong, Shaanxi, and said the ones at the Black-White Abyss were just as impressive in scale."

Not just human figures—there were also many sculptures.

Back in the day, the Nanba Old Forest even had giant golden figures cast into gates, proving there were plenty of skilled artisans. During the Qin Dynasty, figure-making was highly popular, so it wasn't surprising that artisans used local materials to craft these figures.

Jiang Baichuan told her the human figures there were incredibly lifelike, and the sculptures were uniquely distinctive. The craftsmanship of ancient artisans was in no way inferior to modern techniques.

This made Nie Jiuluo itch with curiosity, and she once entertained the idea of visiting if the opportunity arose.

But more often, she would think of her mother, Pei Ke.Her mother was torn apart by the Di Xiao and dragged into the Black-White Ravine. Who knew how many terracotta figures were knocked over along the way, or how much blood soaked the clay sculptures.

But why had they always "never entered the Black-White Ravine"? What would happen if they did?

...

Nie Jiuluo was momentarily dazed when she heard Yan Tuo say something, seemingly mentioning "Jiang Baichuan."

She snapped back to attention. "What did you just say?"

"I couldn't save Jiang Baichuan, but I saw him. He asked me to relay a few messages to the outside."

Jiang Shu had words to pass along?

Nie Jiuluo's heart tightened. "What did he say?"

"He said he'd been interrogated several times. Reading between the lines, he had a rough idea. Their group was suffering because of Mazha. Next, Lin Xirou would likely contact you, using them as hostages for an exchange. He told me to warn you—never agree to the trade."