Love on the Turquoise Land

Jiang Baichuan's original words were: "Next, they'll do everything they can to get Mazha back. My feeling is, whether we exchange him or not, we can't escape. So we might as well not exchange him at all."

Yan Tuo could understand this, but he didn't quite grasp why Jiang Baichuan thought that "whether we exchange him or not, we can't escape."

Nie Jiuluo, however, immediately grasped the key point.

She said, "You mentioned Lin Xirou is looking for her son, and Jiang Shu's group only brought out Mazha from Qingrang. Timeline-wise, Mazha was captured around the turn of 1991-1992, while Lin Xirou first appeared in September 1992—the timing is indeed quite close. If we ignore the huge physical differences, there's a strong possibility that Mazha is Lin Xirou's son."

"If he's her son, he must be extremely important to her. But Mazha has been exposed to sunlight for nearly thirty years—he's almost at his limit. Put yourself in Lin Xirou's shoes. Do you think she'd be happy to see Mazha?"

Yan Tuo sighed inwardly.

Was that even a question? To make an inappropriate analogy, it was like a mother desperately searching for her son who was kidnapped by traffickers, only to find him on the brink of death—wouldn't she be filled with resentment?

When he first heard this, he thought Jiang Baichuan was just stubborn, unafraid even of death. But now it seemed the man wasn't fearless—he had just thought it through thoroughly.

He checked the time. "It's late. I'll go wash up and rest."

The past few hours had been heavy, but for him, there was also excitement—like a blind man who had been groping in the dark for years suddenly gaining sight and hearing.

As he stood up, he took the empty water glasses with him.

Nie Jiuluo didn't realize it at first, but when she glanced at her own nearly empty cup—only red dates and goji berries piled at the bottom—she suddenly felt pressure building below her navel.

Everyone knew this kind of pressure couldn't be ignored. With every passing second, it would only grow worse.

...

Amid the sound of running water from the bathroom, Nie Jiuluo gritted her teeth, clutching the blanket as she waged an internal battle.

Should she hold it in? Wait until the housekeeper came tomorrow? Just endure for another ten hours or so?

No, no—that would be unbearable. They were all human, after all. Besides, in Yan Tuo's eyes, she wasn't some untouchable fairy...

Why did men take so long in the shower? Two minutes was enough, wasn't it?

...

Yan Tuo had been soaking in a filthy mud pool the night before. Though he'd showered afterward and changed clothes when returning to the villa to fetch Chen Fu, he still felt a lingering discomfort, so he washed thoroughly, shampooing his hair twice.

By the time he returned to the room in his pajamas, Nie Jiuluo was curled up, barely holding on.

Still, she tried to sound casual: "Yan Tuo, I need to use the bathroom."

Yan Tuo thought for a moment. "I just finished showering—the window's open to air it out. Maybe wait a bit?"

Nie Jiuluo blurted, "No need."

She regretted it instantly. She'd answered too quickly—her urgency was obvious.

Yan Tuo understood immediately. He almost laughed but held it back, walking over to ask, "So... what's the procedure for you going to the bathroom now? How should I... help?"

Procedure? Nie Jiuluo kept holding on. "The housekeeper usually... just helps me walk there, then back afterward. That's it."

Yan Tuo paused. "You can walk now?""Enough with the nonsense," Nie Jiuluo felt like crying. "Auntie said, take it slow... it's fine, some women get out of bed the same day after giving birth..."

Yan Tuo: "That's probably because Auntie couldn't carry you, right?"

As he spoke, he bent down, pulled back her blanket, slid his right arm under her knees, and supported her lower back with his left arm, lowering his head slightly to make it easier for her to wrap her arms around him.

Nie Jiuluo hesitated for a moment before reaching up to clasp her hands behind his neck. He had just showered, and the hair at the nape of his neck was still damp, with cool droplets of water trickling onto her hands.

Being carried wasn't so bad; the tricky part was probably the lifting and lowering. Yan Tuo said, "Tell me if it hurts."

Then he stood up as steadily as possible.

The wound stretched slightly, causing only mild pain. Nie Jiuluo didn't think it was worth mentioning, so she just furrowed her brows slightly and stayed silent.

In the bathroom, the window was half-open, and the steam from the shower had mostly dissipated, leaving only a faint scent of body wash.

At her request, Yan Tuo set her down by the sink. They had forgotten to bring slippers, so he laid a towel on the floor for her to step on. Liu Changxi's house wasn't big, and the bathroom was even smaller, with plenty of surfaces to hold onto, so there was no fear of her falling.

Yan Tuo watched as she steadied herself against the sink. "I'll be outside. Call me if you need anything or when you're done."

Nie Jiuluo hummed in acknowledgment, first turning the faucet to hot water and using a wet tissue to wipe her face. Only after the door closed did she let out a sigh of relief. Masked by the sound of running water, she shuffled step by step toward the toilet.

Yan Tuo leaned against the wall outside, listening to the continuous sound of running water. At first, he wondered why washing her face was taking so long, but then he realized what was happening and quickly strode away, wandering aimlessly around the living room. He picked up a cup to examine the doodles on it, then lifted a vase to check the stamp on the bottom.

After a while, the water stopped, and he heard her say, "I'm done."

Yan Tuo opened the door and went in.

Perhaps because of what had just happened, he felt oddly awkward seeing her this time. Nie Jiuluo was the same, lowering her eyes and fidgeting with her hair uncomfortably.

Her pajamas were overly loose and had a cute pattern that didn't quite suit her. But this contrast made her seem softer and more approachable. Yan Tuo recalled the time he had sneaked into her studio at night, when she had been wearing a silky silver robe, sitting gracefully...

It was hard to believe this was the same person.

Yan Tuo walked over and asked, "Same as before? How you came is how you'll go back?"

Nie Jiuluo said, "You could also just help me walk back. It'll just be slower."

Yan Tuo smiled. "Never mind. It's the middle of the night—no need to practice walking."

He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. Nie Jiuluo leaned into his embrace, her body soft and slightly cool.

For a moment, Yan Tuo felt as if they were a couple in love, holding each other close.

The next second, he laughed at himself for overthinking it. He and her... they weren't even that close.

After settling Nie Jiuluo, Yan Tuo inspected the single folding cot. Nie Jiuluo watched as he shook the frame repeatedly, muttering, "Is this thing even sturdy?"

Comfortably lying down and feeling much more at ease, Nie Jiuluo was in the mood for idle chatter. "Auntie managed just fine."

Yan Tuo carefully examined the load-bearing frame, trying to find any weight limit markings. "How much does Auntie weigh? How much do I weigh? It's not the same. Besides, Uncle Changxi is frugal—he buys cheap stuff."

And he had strong pride, refusing any handouts, always saying: "Live within your means. Everything I have works just fine."Nie Jiuluo twisted the bedsheet between her fingers playfully. "You can't always think cheap things are no good. Sometimes you get great value for money."

Yan Tuo didn't respond, having finally found the weight limit label: "Max load 75kg..."

Nie Jiuluo asked, "How much do you weigh?"

Yan Tuo was quite tall, probably around 183 or 184 cm.

"About 145 pounds."

It depended on his condition—sometimes a couple pounds lighter, sometimes heavier.

Nie Jiuluo thought to herself, That's cutting it close. Even if you're exactly 145, you still have to account for the blanket. Winter blankets easily weigh four or five pounds.

"It's fine. The limit is 150 pounds—plenty of room. Just sleep politely and don't start dancing on it."

Yan Tuo was skeptical, but there wasn't another bed anyway. After turning off the light, he lay down very politely.

Nie Jiuluo pricked up her ears, listening to the bed frame creak and groan. She pitied the poor bed—those weren't just noises, they were cries of agony.

She was sure it would collapse; the only question was when. But after waiting a long time, nothing happened. Disappointed, she eventually fell asleep.

Sometime later, deep in slumber, she was jolted awake by a loud "creak"—probably Yan Tuo, having forgotten about politeness in his sleep, rolling over—followed by a heavy thud.

Did it collapse?

Nie Jiuluo's eyes flew open, all drowsiness gone.

Sure enough, she heard Yan Tuo curse under his breath: "Damn it!"

It really collapsed?!

It was too funny. She stifled her laughter, pretending to still be asleep, until her stomach hurt and her wound ached from the effort.

Not wanting to disturb her, Yan Tuo didn't turn on the light after getting up. Instead, he used his phone flashlight to reassemble the bed frame piece by piece, muttering, "What a piece of junk..."

Midway through, worried about the noise, he glanced back at her.

Hah. She looked perfectly still, but why were she and the blanket trembling slightly? Was she laughing?

Yan Tuo sighed.

After a moment, he turned the flashlight back to the bed.

After all, he still had to fix it.

The next morning, Nie Jiuluo's first thought upon waking was to check on Yan Tuo.

He wasn't in the room—he'd gotten up earlier than her. The folding cot had been put away, leaning pitifully against the wall.

It was hard to say who was more unlucky: him or the bed.

Nie Jiuluo almost laughed again.

...

Liu Changxi had left for the shop before dawn, leaving Yan Tuo a note saying the caretaker would arrive around ten to take over. If he wasn't in a hurry, he could wait until then to leave.

A couple hours didn't matter much. Yan Tuo went out to buy breakfast, and by the time he returned, Nie Jiuluo had been awake for a while.

Yan Tuo asked, "Want to wash up?"

Nie Jiuluo nodded, then countered, "Sleep well last night?"

Yan Tuo refused to give her the satisfaction. "Slept great. Haven't slept that soundly in ages—always restless at home. Guess I feel more at ease outside."

Really?

His expression was so earnest that Nie Jiuluo began to doubt herself. Had she just dreamed it? It had felt so real.

...

After washing up, they set up a small table on the bed for breakfast. Nie Jiuluo had little appetite, only taking a couple sips of porridge and half a bite of a shaomai.

Yan Tuo noticed. "Not to your taste? How about the food the caretaker makes? Does it suit you?"

Nie Jiuluo didn't answer right away. After a pause, she said, "Yan Tuo, I want to go home to recover."Yan Tuo gave an acknowledging "oh" and lowered his head to stuff the remaining half of the bun into his mouth.

He had been mentally prepared, just not for it to happen so soon.

Nie Jiuluo explained, "Auntie is very kind, but to me, this is someone else's home. I don't feel comfortable staying here. I'll be more at ease back in my own place. Sister Lu is there—she's been with me for so long. With her around, everything will be convenient. Also, I have connections at a private hospital, so I won't need to hide when going for follow-ups or rehab."

After all, it was a gunshot wound.

Yan Tuo nodded. "That's good, that's good. How do you plan to... get back? In your condition, you can't go alone, right?"

From his tone, it didn’t sound like he intended to escort her.

Nie Jiuluo said, "I’ll hire a car. If that doesn’t work, I’ll ask Lao Cai—my friend—to find a reliable driver to pick me up."

When she first opened her eyes, the weather had seemed quite nice. But now, it suddenly felt rather ordinary. The sunlight was weak and listless, hardly what one would call bright.

Yan Tuo quickly finished his porridge, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, "No need to trouble another host. How about this—rest for a couple more days until you can walk, then I’ll come and take you back."

Nie Jiuluo thought for a moment before replying indifferently, "Sure, that works."

After speaking, she turned to look out the window.

Outside stood a large tree, where a black-headed, yellow-bellied sparrow hopped along the branches, its tiny claws shuffling about. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, scattering patches here and there.

Actually, the weather wasn’t so bad after all.

After the meal, once the dishes were cleared, Yan Tuo brought Nie Jiuluo the two things she cared about most.

Her knife and her phone.

Amusingly, both items were handed over in sealed evidence bags, especially the knife, its blade visibly stained with blood.

Yan Tuo said, "I returned them exactly as I found them. The knife looks like an antique, so I didn’t clean it for you."

If the blade was valuable and got damaged by cleaning solvents, he wouldn’t be able to make it up to her.

As for the phone, its body was now covered in scratches, and the screen had a crack—silent testimony to how fierce the struggle in the well house had been.

Nie Jiuluo wasn’t in a hurry to charge and turn it on. Whatever urgent matters there might have been were long past; waiting a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

She gestured toward the door. "You kept Chen Fu, saying you wanted to extract information from him—is it about your sister? Are you sure he knows?"

Yan Tuo trusted his instincts. "Ninety percent sure. These earthbound fiends probably treat my family’s affairs as a joke. But this guy is stubborn—he’d rather die than talk."

He couldn’t help but smile bitterly. "Gou Ya really died too soon. If we’d been interrogating him, there might’ve been hope."

Nie Jiuluo neither agreed nor disagreed. "So what’s your plan for Chen Fu? Keep him around for now?"

"For now, yeah. I’ll check on him regularly to make sure he doesn’t fake his death. If it comes to it, if he revives, I’ll just send him back to death again."

Nie Jiuluo burst out laughing.

This cycle of life and death, death and life—it was endless.

She said, "How about leaving him with me these next few days? I’ve got nothing better to do. If he wakes up, I’ll help you question him."

Yan Tuo was taken aback. "Leave him with you? No way, not with your injuries..."Nie Jiuluo gave him a sidelong glance. "What does it matter if he's injured like this? As long as you tie him up and gag him properly, even if he comes to, won’t he still be stuck in the box? Besides, I’ll get more out of him than you would—you’re too emotionally involved, whereas I’m not. And another thing, even if Lin Xirou and her people don’t notice you bringing him in and out, aren’t you afraid of running into a police checkpoint?"

With everything settled, there was still half an hour left before ten.

Yan Tuo played three rounds of a board game with Nie Jiuluo because she was curious—the game had been lying by her pillow for days.

The game was called The Hero’s Escape from the Demon’s Lair , and the rules were simple: roll the dice to determine how many steps you could move—but the escape route was littered with traps. Step into one, and you were basically done for.

Yan Tuo lost all three rounds.

First round: drank poisoned wine and died with blood gushing from all orifices.

Second round: choked to death on noodles.

Third round: stumbled into the lair of a serpent-woman and was devoured.

Yan Tuo was exasperated. "Why is it always me? Even by probability, it should be your turn at least once."

Nie Jiuluo shrugged. "You just have bad luck."

By the time the housekeeper came in, they were on the fourth round.

Early into this round, Yan Tuo finally discovered the secret behind Nie Jiuluo’s winning streak.

For example, she rolled a "5," which meant moving five steps—but the fifth step was a trap: Crushed by a falling boulder, skull shattered, instant death.

She picked up her piece and said, "Alright, five steps."

Then she moved the piece, counting aloud, "One, two, three, four, five."

She counted five times, and her hand movements were flashy, but in reality, she only moved four spaces, stopping just short of the trap. Then she gloated, "That was close—almost died."

By the end of the fourth round, Yan Tuo lost again. This time, the cause of death was: The village beauty smiles at you. Overcome with excitement, you die of a heart attack.

In the kitchen, the housekeeper was busy preparing a meal—chopping, slicing, boiling, straining—the rhythmic thud of the knife blending with the bubbling water, a lively, bustling scene.

Outside the window, a sparrow startled and took flight from the big tree, its branches swaying, scattering shards of golden light.

Yan Tuo tossed his game piece aside and stood up to leave. "I’m done playing. In this world, honest people always get the short end."