Love on the Turquoise Land

Nie Jiuluo's first action after activating her phone was to contact Xing Shen.

She couldn’t reach him—his phone was off.

But this wasn’t unexpected. Xing Shen was a cautious man. When they had parted ways earlier, he had mentioned notifying the remaining members to prepare in advance. This "preparation" likely meant changing hideouts or switching off phones and numbers.

This was a bit troublesome. Aside from Jiang Baichuan and Xing Shen, she barely knew anyone else in Banya’s group.

Nie Jiuluo hesitated for a moment, then opened Weibo and posted a microblog.

— Amidst the barks of dogs in the babbling stream, peach blossoms glisten with dew.

As an art-focused blogger, her fan engagement was far lower than that of internet celebrities, but she still had hundreds of thousands of followers—a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. Soon, a towering thread of comments rose beneath her post.

Xiao Cong Who Hates Garlic : Ahhhh, what am I seeing? Peach blossoms! Is the artist hinting at something?

Moon Weighs Fifty Jin : I suspect I’ve just been force-fed dog food.

Hoof Sugar Cane SZD : Hey, if you don’t get it, just search it up. This is clearly a poem by the great Li Bai— Visiting the Taoist Priest on Mount Dai but Not Finding Him .

...

Nie Jiuluo hadn’t expected the poem’s title to be uncovered so quickly. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of melancholy.

It was indeed Visiting the Taoist Priest on Mount Dai but Not Finding Him .

Back then, she was only seventeen, a high school sophomore on summer vacation, attending a special training program tailored for her at Jiang Baichuan’s place. That was where she met Xing Shen.

Young and fresh-faced, both of them were just awakening to love—and it was love at first sight.

Looking back now, love at first sight was too much of a gamble. Falling for a face and then hoping the person beneath—their character, values, personality, interests—would be a perfect match was nothing more than a dreamy fantasy.

With the pressure of senior year looming, summer assignments piled up like mountains, including all sorts of ancient poetry and prose.

One day, she came across this poem by Li Bai. As she read it, her heart pounded like a drum, convinced it was fate—wasn’t this poem written about her and Xing Shen?

Amidst the barks of dogs in the babbling stream —Xing Shen just happened to be from the Dog Family.

Peach blossoms glisten with dew —wasn’t this hinting at the budding affection between them?

Deep in the woods, deer appear —the word "deep" was right there, echoing Xing Shen’s name.

At noon by the stream, no temple bell is heard —the word "stream" ( xi ) phonetically resembled "evening" ( xi ), which clearly referred to herself.

Because of this, she felt an extra fondness for Li Bai. From then on, whenever debates erupted in the Tang poetry world over Li Bai versus Du Fu, she staunchly sided with the "Poet Immortal."

After she and Xing Shen became official, she even recited the poem to him, insisting he memorize it well because it was "our poem." Who knew—it might even be recited at their wedding or funeral.

...

Now that they were out of contact, she had to resort to such an obscure method, hoping Xing Shen would see it soon and reach out.

Of course, she also hoped he wouldn’t overthink it.

Over the next few days, Nie Jiuluo focused on recovering. The injury on her arm couldn’t be helped—tendons and bones took a hundred days to heal—but the gunshot wound was manageable. Thanks to her youth and strong constitution, she could already shuffle a few steps around the room while leaning against the wall.

Aside from resting, she occupied herself with two things: reading and online shopping.

The reading material naturally came from the books Yan Tuo had brought her. As for online shopping, her purchases were all over the place—cosmetics, clothes, steamers, vacuum cleaners—she bought everything.

The former was for herself, while the latter was for Liu Changxi. She still remembered Yan Tuo mentioning how frugal Liu Changxi was with money and how strong his sense of pride was. Since she had been imposing on him for so many days, upgrading some of his household items would serve as a thank-you gift.Of course, she would never say that outright. Instead, she might remark, "Your steamer isn't very good—the steamed egg custard doesn’t turn out right," or "Dusting with a duster makes me cough too much; a vacuum cleaner doesn’t kick up dust and is faster." In any case, everything was bought for her own convenience.

This caused Liu Changxi’s opinion of her to drop slightly. He thought to himself that this girl was far too extravagant and not at all thrifty. If she ever ended up with Xiao Tuo, she definitely couldn’t be put in charge of the household finances.

…

That noon, the housekeeper steamed a perch with olive vegetables for her, stir-fried a plate of asparagus with lily bulbs, and paired it with a small bowl of nourishing multigrain rice.

The flavors were just right—soft where they should be, crisp where they should be—leaving her feeling refreshed in both body and mind. For the first time in many days, Nie Jiuluo found her appetite surging.

Her mood was also quite pleasant: everything she swallowed was nourishment that would strengthen her bones and muscles.

Just as her chopsticks hovered over the dish, an extremely faint rustling sound came from the suitcase standing upright beside the bed.

Nie Jiuluo’s chopsticks froze mid-air.

After a moment, she set them down, leaned toward the bedside, and slowly pressed her right ear against the suitcase.

Hmm. There it was.

She opened her phone, randomly selected a rowdy song to play out loud, and when the housekeeper came to clear the dishes, she received an unexpected bonus: she was given the night off and didn’t have to stay over.

The housekeeper double-checked: "Really? No… pay deduction?"

Nie Jiuluo smiled sweetly. "No pay deduction."

Tonight, what kind of persona should she adopt? A few keywords came to mind.

Hmm. How about alluring, kind, and slightly twisted?

Chen Fu slept for a long time, but the deeper he slept, the itchier his throat became—the maddening itch of new flesh growing. Instinctively, he tried to scratch it, but his hands seemed to have vanished. He could only writhe, rubbing himself against anything nearby.

Then, before his eyes, a vast crimson sun gradually receded into the distance. Chen Fu was shocked and desperately tried to chase after it, but his limbs felt pinned down, utterly useless. Sweat poured from him as he watched the sun shrink smaller and smaller, until finally, it was no larger than a candle flame.

Chen Fu grew frantic. So frantic that his eyes suddenly flew open—and he woke up.

There really was a flicker of crimson flame floating in an abyss of darkness.

He widened his eyes, then closed them, then opened them again. After a few repetitions, his vision gradually adjusted, and he finally saw clearly.

It was the middle of the night, inside a room. Judging by the furnishings, it was likely a residential home. That candle flame was real—a white candle burning on the table, standing in a small bowl as wax slowly dripped down.

The table was cluttered with various items, some cosmetics, small dishes, and bowls. Beside it was a chair facing him, and seated on the chair was a young woman.

It was bizarre. The woman wore pajamas underneath, one leg crossed over the other, a trembling cotton slipper dangling from her raised foot. The pajamas and slippers were cute and homely, but draped over them was a sharply tailored pure black women’s coat, as if a layer of cold, ruthless severity had been thrown over her, rendering the cuteness beneath utterly un-cute—instead, it leaned toward provocation.

She had long hair, with thick bangs pressed low over her brows. The shadows of her bangs fell into her eyes, making them deep as pools. Her eyeliner was fully lined, tapering into a defiant flick at the ends. Her skin was pale, but her lips were painted a vivid red—under the candlelight, almost a dark crimson, with a glossy sheen.

Nie Jiuluo spoke softly, "You’re awake? Do you still recognize me?"Chen Fu was bewildered. First, because he had just been revived and felt disconnected from everything. Second, he had only met Nie Jiuluo once before, and her current state was drastically different—her demeanor and makeup had changed so much that he couldn’t immediately recognize her.

But she was clearly no pushover. Chen Fu realized his mouth was tightly stuffed with a wad of cloth, his tongue pressed down and unable to move. His entire body was curled up inside a box—not lying flat but reclined at an angle, as the box was propped diagonally against the wall. The casters were locked in place, and something was wedged at the bottom to prevent the box from sliding.

Nie Jiuluo said, "Let’s set a rule first. I have a bit of a nervous condition—I can’t stand loud noises. So we’ll keep things calm and chat slowly. I’ve even downloaded a decibel meter on my phone..."

As she spoke, she turned the phone screen toward him and placed it upright on a stand.

Chen Fu saw the decibel meter’s interface—a dial with a fluctuating needle at the top and a soundwave graph at the bottom. The needle trembled erratically, the graph rising and falling, both reflecting the same thing.

"I’ve set a warning line at sixty decibels, so don’t raise your voice. If you cross it, there’ll be a beep. And whoever crosses it… gets punished."

She giggled softly as she said this, then picked up a fine-tipped makeup brush, dipped it into a small dish, and leaned slightly forward. Starting from his right brow, she dragged the brush downward—over his eyelid, down to below his lower lash line—drawing a "1."

"This brush is dipped in oil. Remember, if you get too loud, I’ll have to use natural fire to burn this mark into you."

With that, she reached over and yanked the cloth out of his mouth.

As she leaned in, Chen Fu finally recognized her.

"You—you’re that cr—"

Mid-sentence, he caught sight of the phone screen from the corner of his eye—the needle and graph were spiking wildly. He quickly lowered his voice. "Cr… Crazy Blade?"

Nie Jiuluo praised him, "Good, just like that. Keep it quiet."

Then she pointed to the side of her body hidden under a coat. "You broke this arm of mine. I’m furious—so furious I could send you down to reunite with Han Guan any second. So treasure your life. Talk to me gently, sweetly. If you make me happy today, I won’t kill you."

Chen Fu shuddered. Han Guan—yes, he remembered now. Han Guan was dead, his face sunken like a skull.

Nie Jiuluo continued, "Don’t think it’s no big deal if I spare you today. In life, you have to persevere, to hold onto hope. Look at me—I held on till the end, and Yan Tuo came to save me, didn’t he? You hold on too. Who knows? Maybe Lin Xirou will come for you."

The more amiable she sounded, the colder Chen Fu’s spine felt. This woman was clearly unhinged.

"Tell me, how’s your blood sac doing? Feeling alright?"

Chen Fu swallowed dryly, his mind buzzing: How does this woman know about the blood sac?

Nie Jiuluo’s expression darkened. "I ask you a question, and you ignore me? That’s not very nice. If you keep this up, I won’t be happy."

She picked up a matchstick from the table and brought it close to a flame.

The phosphorus-coated match head ignited with a sharp hiss. The sudden flare startled Chen Fu, his right eyelid twitching violently. He hurriedly muttered, "Fine… it’s fine.""Not bad," Nie Jiuluo said, twirling the matchstick horizontally before blowing it out with a light breath. She waved it a couple of times to ensure it wouldn't reignite, then continued slowly, "Then your luck is much better than the one next door."

As she spoke, she tilted her chin toward the neighboring room.

The one next door? Who else was there?

Chen Fu was utterly confused.

Nie Jiuluo smiled sweetly. "That young lady with the surname Li. She’s so pitiful—coughing nonstop, can’t even straighten her back. Compared to her, don’t you think you’re much luckier?"

Surname Li? Li Yueying?

Chen Fu’s scalp prickled. "You... you brought her here too?"

Nie Jiuluo feigned surprise. "With Yan Tuo as an insider, who can’t I get? Besides, it’s precisely because we took you that Lin Xirou is in a frenzy, sending people everywhere to search. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance—I’m waiting for her. It’s up to you whether you can keep me entertained until then."

Chen Fu swallowed hard.

Truth be told, his temper would’ve normally made him explode by now. But first, Han Guan’s miserable state was still fresh in his mind, and second, Nie Jiuluo had a point—maybe buying more time meant more hope. Lin Xirou was smart. Maybe... maybe she was already on her way.

Every second counted.

He forced an ingratiating smile. "What... what else do you want to ask?"

Nie Jiuluo picked up her phone. "Who knows if you’re telling the truth? Besides, this back-and-forth is boring. Let’s interact with the neighbor. Same question for both of you. If the answers match, we move on. If they don’t, I’ll add another flame for you. Two mismatches, and we’re done—you can go play cards with Han Guan downstairs."

It took Chen Fu a moment to process this. He stammered, "B-but... what if I tell the truth and she lies?"

Nie Jiuluo shot him a glance. "Why do you always assume the worst of your companions? Two chances, no more. You think she isn’t afraid to die?"

Chen Fu panicked. "She—she isn’t! That old woman’s second-gen blood sac is gone. She’s full of hatred. Given the chance, she’d drag someone down with her..."

Nie Jiuluo acted as if she hadn’t heard. "Listen up. First question: In the year 2000, when the Turbaned Army passed through Qingrang, a woman was dragged into the Black-White Ravine by a Dixiao. What happened to her?"

Chen Fu froze. "I... I don’t know."

Seeing Nie Jiuluo’s expression darken, he hurriedly explained, "The Black-White Ravine... it’s huge. I wasn’t there at the time. How would I know?"

"Never heard anything about it either?"

"N-no."

As soon as the words left his mouth, a faint notification sound—not loud enough to exceed 60 decibels—chimed from Nie Jiuluo’s phone.

Chen Fu’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t dare breathe.

Nie Jiuluo glanced at her phone. There was no actual message—she had simply opened the "Sound & Vibration" settings and tapped the notification tone.

She smiled. "What a coincidence. She also said she doesn’t know. That reminds me—from now on, ‘I don’t know’ isn’t allowed for every answer. Otherwise, you’d just breeze through every question, wouldn’t you?"

She fiddled with her phone, pretending to send a reminder, then cleared her throat. "Second question, from Yan Tuo. He said he couldn’t get an answer himself. Do you know what I’m about to ask?"

Chen Fu licked his lips, then remembered. "His... his sister?"

"Lin Xirou took his sister away. Where did she take her?""Black, Black-White Stream."

Damn it, Black-White Stream again.

Another notification chimed.

Nie Jiuluo glanced down at her phone, then looked up at Chen Fu. "Li Yueying didn’t say that. You lose."

As she spoke, she picked up a fresh match, struck it alight, and slowly leaned down.

Watching the flame inch closer to his right eye, Chen Fu panicked, his words tumbling out in a frantic whisper. "N-no, that’s not—what did she say?"

Nie Jiuluo replied, "She said it was made into a blood sac."

That old bitch was spewing pure bullshit. In that moment, Chen Fu’s fury wasn’t directed at Nie Jiuluo—it was all for Li Yueying. He wanted to smash her damn head in. "She—she’s lying! Yan Tuo’s little sister was only two when she was taken. She wasn’t even fully grown. How could she be made into a blood sac?"

The flame hovered perilously close to his eye. Nie Jiuluo tilted her wrist slightly, pulling it back as she mused, "You do have a point. So, she really was lying?"

Chen Fu nodded eagerly.

Nie Jiuluo sighed. "She’s truly wicked. Deserves to burn. But why did you tell Yan Tuo he’d never see his sister again, only to backtrack later and wish them a speedy reunion?"

Chen Fu muttered, "Black-White Stream—what kind of place is that? Once you enter, the owl becomes a human demon, the human becomes an owl ghost..."

Nie Jiuluo caught the odd phrasing of "enter." "Enter? Humans, sure—but where do you enter from?"

Chen Fu shuddered violently, as if suddenly realizing his slip. His expression darkened, and he fell silent.