Love on the Turquoise Land

Nie Jiuluo shared the same thought.

If the Earthbound Fiends could turn people into ghostly minions anytime and anywhere, then after Lin Xirou's painstaking efforts over twenty years, the world should be teeming with these minions by now.

But the reality was that Lin Xirou couldn't even control Yan Tuo, which only proved that turning someone into a minion wasn't an easy feat.

She murmured softly, "But doesn't that mean Lü Xian is in danger now?"

Yan Tuo's mind jolted, and he instinctively reached for his phone.

Nie Jiuluo stopped him, "Don't. It's not like he can just run away if you tell him to."

—He was already inside the farm, and there were likely people watching his every move.

—Even if you told him to run, you'd need a reason. Would he believe you even if you told him the truth?

—Worst-case scenario, even if he managed to escape, he wouldn't get far before being caught again.

She suddenly had a wild idea, "What if he tells Lin Xirou he has oligospermia or erectile dysfunction?"

Yan Tuo was torn between laughter and exasperation, "He's had three girlfriends before. And do you really think Aunt Lin wouldn't have done her research before choosing him?"

Nie Jiuluo suggested, "How about an anonymous tip reporting illegal confinement at the farm?"

Yan Tuo sighed, "That farm is a major taxpayer in the county, let alone the township. They’ve greased all the right wheels. Do you really think your tip wouldn’t reach the farm the moment you made it?"

Nie Jiuluo couldn’t think of a better solution either, "You’re not planning to turn back and rescue him, are you?"

Yan Tuo gave a bitter smile, "You overestimate me. Without a solid plan, going back to save him would only mean dying together. What good would that do?"

After sitting in silence for a while, he opened the car door and stepped out to throw away the trash.

Nie Jiuluo felt a pang of melancholy too. Through the window, she watched Yan Tuo walk to the street corner trash bin and forcefully shove the garbage bag inside. Her gaze drifted to the Longmen Grottoes advertisement nearby, where the Buddha statue appeared solemn yet compassionate. Beyond the billboard, the sky stretched high and serene, growing calmer with distance.

This was why she always longed to be an ordinary person, to live with ordinary worries.

Because of the Lü Xian situation, the afternoon drive felt much heavier than the morning. Nie Jiuluo even dozed off and was jolted awake by Yan Tuo, disoriented for a moment before noticing the deep red sun sinking in the distance, staining half the sky in its glow.

Yan Tuo said, "We’re at the hotel."

"Oh," Nie Jiuluo mumbled sleepily, grabbing the takeout she’d ordered at noon before stepping out of the car.

...

Yan Tuo had booked a five-star hotel with a family suite so they could stay together but with separate bedrooms—close enough to help each other but avoiding unnecessary awkwardness.

After settling Nie Jiuluo in, he had to meet with a business partner. Though he called it a "meeting," it coincided with the partner’s company event, so he wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Before leaving, Yan Tuo handed Nie Jiuluo his dedicated phone and asked her to keep an eye on any updates about Lü Xian.

As he was about to leave, he asked, "Anything else you need? Better say it now—once I’m gone, you’re on your own."

With her four-legged cane now, Nie Jiuluo felt invincible. After a moment’s thought, she said, "Don’t drink too much. If you come back drunk and vomiting, I won’t be able to handle you."

Yan Tuo replied, "Either I won’t drink at all, or if I do, I won’t come back."

***After Yan Tuo left, Nie Jiuluo spent a long time washing up. In truth, she was quite glad he wasn’t around—those clumsy and inconvenient moments when she was alone would only become more awkward with someone else’s help. Alone, she could see her own struggles and deal with them herself. It might be harder, but at least it was straightforward.

Once the chores were done, she settled into bed, leaving only the bedside lamp on. First, she dialed the dedicated connection to confirm she could hear the sounds from Lü Xian’s end, then opened the takeout bag and began her "work."

What she had bought were indeed "professional materials," mostly odorless modeling clay, commonly known as "playdough"—she had been away from her workbench for so long that her hands had grown stiff. Since she couldn’t get her hands on real clay, kneading a substitute would have to do.

Nie Jiuluo pinched off a lump and began kneading it slowly. In sculpting, fresh clay was called "raw clay." It had to be worked like dough, constantly kneaded until her hands grew familiar with the clay and the clay grew familiar with her hands. Only when both reached a state of "gradual harmony" could her mind and hands truly sync.

In her earpiece, Lü Xian seemed to be puttering around—drinking water, dragging chairs, humming a little tune.

In the past, Nie Jiuluo would have found it noisy, but now, it only made her feel a pang of melancholy. This gloom seeped into her body and then transferred through her palms into the clay, making the clay itself seem swollen with emotion.

Once the clay felt right, she opened her phone’s photo album, searching for images to use as practice subjects.

...

By 10:30 p.m., Yan Tuo still hadn’t returned, but Lü Xian made a big commotion—he had gone out for a night jog, huffing and puffing, completely out of breath.

After about fifteen minutes, the sound of running turned into walking. Nie Jiuluo heard Lü Xian panting and muttering to himself, "Screw this... I’d rather die fat than keep running. Working out... is inhuman..."

Not long after, the background noise shifted—he must have moved from outdoors to indoors.

Nie Jiuluo remembered Yan Tuo mentioning the layout of the farmhouse lodge: only two floors, no elevator, so Lü Xian had to take the stairs.

Sure enough, the muttering resumed: "Damn, still gotta climb stairs."

A few seconds later, abruptly, Xiong Hei’s voice came through the earpiece, accompanied by urgent knocking: "Lin-jie, Lin-jie, something’s happened!"

Nie Jiuluo froze, her hands stopping mid-motion as she held her breath, straining to listen.

She guessed Lü Xian had reached the second floor just as Xiong Hei was knocking on Lin Xirou’s door.

Footsteps grew heavier—Lü Xian jogging over. "Xiong-ge, what’s going on?"

Xiong Hei’s voice was irritable and rough: "None of your business. Get lost."

Almost at the same time, the door opened, and Lin Xirou asked, "What is it?"

Nie Jiuluo didn’t catch what was said next—perhaps Xiong Hei and Lin Xirou exchanged glances or whispered into each other’s ears. Whatever the case, when Lin Xirou spoke again, her tone was noticeably off: "I’ll go take a look."

...

Footsteps faded into the distance, and Lü Xian let out a disgruntled snort before opening his door and entering his room.

This round of surveillance ended there.

Only then did Nie Jiuluo dare to exhale deeply, realizing her palms had stiffened—both the clay figure in her hand and her fingertips felt cold.

Something had happened on Lin Xirou’s end. What was it? Was it related to Yan Tuo? Had he been exposed?

It couldn’t be. She closed her eyes, carefully replaying what she had just heard.Lin Xirou asked, "What's the matter?" and immediately followed up with, "I'll go take a look." Clearly, the incident had just occurred nearby—most likely at the farm.

What could have happened at the farm? What kind of trouble could there be?

Was it something involving Jiang Baichuan and his group? Unlikely. Even if Jiang Baichuan died, Lin Xirou would just say "serves him right" and wouldn’t lose her composure over him.

Gou Ya? Pah, pah, pah—Gou Ya was already dead.

That left only...

In a flash, a single word crossed Nie Jiuluo’s mind.

—Root-shedding!

Xiong Hei had mentioned it: "Root-shedding is tomorrow. The quality depends on what happens after." He’d even dragged Lü Xian to the farm to wait it out. Clearly, everyone, from top to bottom, was anticipating the "root-shedding."

Nie Jiuluo’s heart pounded. Could she really be this lucky? Was it truly divine intervention—had their "root-shedding" gone wrong?

As she stood frozen in thought, she heard the door outside the suite open. Yan Tuo was back.

Nie Jiuluo called out, "Yan Tuo?"

Yan Tuo responded with a muffled grunt, his footsteps unsteady and heavy as he stumbled straight to the bathroom, where he immediately began retching violently.

Nie Jiuluo instinctively moved to get out of bed, lifting the covers before hesitating. After a moment, she heard the flush of the toilet, followed by silence.

Hadn’t he said he wouldn’t drink?

She felt a surge of irritation—she’d warned him early on. If he got drunk, she wouldn’t be able to handle him.

Thankfully, she still had her four-legged cane. Gripping it and leaning against the wall, Nie Jiuluo shuffled step by step into the outer room.

When she’d gone to bed earlier, she’d turned off all the lights outside. Now, the room remained dark, save for the dim yellow glow seeping from the bathroom.

She made her way to the bathroom door.

The toilet lid was down. Yan Tuo sat on the floor, leaning against the vanity cabinet, one knee bent and the other stretched out. The family suite had two bathrooms—one attached to the master bedroom where she stayed, and this smaller one in the living area. With Yan Tuo’s long limbs sprawled across the floor, the space felt even more cramped, leaving no room to step inside.

Nie Jiuluo asked, "Did you drive back?"

Yan Tuo shook his head. "Got a designated driver."

As he spoke, he grabbed the edge of the sink and wobbled to his feet.

At least he’d had the sense to call a driver—he wasn’t completely wasted.

Nie Jiuluo bit back her words. After all, his drinking wasn’t her problem. Getting furious over it would be unjustified. "Just now, Lü Xian and Natou—"

"Something happened at Aunt Lin’s place, right? I know."

Nie Jiuluo was taken aback. "How do you know?"

Yan Tuo chuckled. "Lü Xian called me, thinking I might have insider info. How would I know? But if something’s gone wrong for Aunt Lin right now, it’s a good thing, isn’t it...?"

He staggered forward, forgetting to keep his distance. Only when he was right in front of Nie Jiuluo did he realize he needed to move aside. As he tried to step back, his head spun, and he lurched forward, nearly crashing into her. Luckily, he reacted quickly, bracing himself against the doorframe.

Nie Jiuluo looked up at Yan Tuo. Beyond the alcohol, he carried a faint scent of cigarettes.

Truly fitting the old saying: socializing means smoke in one hand, liquor in the other.

She said, "Didn’t you say you wouldn’t drink?"

Yan Tuo lifted his gaze to meet hers, then lowered his head with a self-deprecating laugh, his dizziness worsening. "I wasn’t going to. But they kept toasting, one after another. I refused them all. Then this little boy came up, dragging his tiny sister along to toast..."He stretched out a hand, gesturing the height to her: "Just this big, this tall... a little girl, so I drank..."

...

What Yan Tuo encountered today was this company's small annual gathering.

It was called a "small annual gathering" because it wasn't the formal year-end event—just a family day dinner for key employees. With Yan Tuo, the financial backer, in attendance, the atmosphere soared to new heights. Before anyone could take three bites of their food, someone would come over to toast.

Yan Tuo kept making excuses—he had to drive and couldn't drink, he didn’t know how to drink—but after some back-and-forth, the partner company’s boss stubbornly declared that whoever could get him to drink would receive a 2,000-yuan bonus from his own pocket.

Well, that settled it. The whole room was instantly buzzing, and even those who hadn’t planned to toast lined up for a chance.

Yan Tuo had already decided to spend his way out of trouble, prepared to shell out a few extra 2,000-yuan prizes just to keep the mood lively. As he was politely declining, someone tugged at his sleeve, and a timid voice called out, "Uncle."

Looking down, he saw a little boy, about four or five years old—pretty and shy—holding a glass of liquor in one hand and leading his little sister with the other.

The sister was barely two, clutching her brother’s hand tightly while sucking on a finger. She tilted her head up, studying Yan Tuo curiously as she pressed closer to her brother.

The crowd burst into laughter. Adults wouldn’t fight children for this kind of opportunity, so they naturally made way for the siblings, egging Yan Tuo on: if he refused now, he’d cast a shadow over those fragile little hearts.

Without thinking, Yan Tuo took the glass and drank.

Once the dam broke, there was no stopping it. One toast led to another, and before he knew it, he’d lost count of how many glasses he’d downed. Thankfully, he still had enough sense to stop before passing out. He even asked the person next to him for a cigarette.

After lighting it, he laid it horizontally across the rim of his glass. The room was lively, but the liquor and cigarette on the table were quiet and lonely—the shallow drink rippling slightly, the cigarette’s white smoke curling upward, mourning in his stead for those who had left and those who would never wake again.

Yan Tuo had truly believed he was at peace when he learned of Yan Xin’s fate.

Only now did he realize he wasn’t.

It was like a nail had been driven into his heart. Over twenty years, the nail and the flesh had grown accustomed to each other’s friction—no pain, no itch. The grief from back then had diluted year by year, layer by layer, spreading infinitely thin, leaving only a few lingering threads still wrapped around the nail.

But today, that grief was creeping back, bit by bit. He had been calm before because those distant feelings hadn’t yet returned—they were still on their way back.

His mother had written in her diary: "My silly son, a little duck was all it took to fool you."

All for a little duck, his sister was gone forever.

...

Yan Tuo explained to Nie Jiuluo: "Just this big, this tall... a little girl. Wouldn’t it be bad if I didn’t drink? She saw me refusing her brother’s glass, her lips quivered, and she was about to cry..."

He kept smiling, unaware that his own eyes had reddened: "I just thought, she’s a child, and a little girl at that—you have to indulge them. So I drank... and drank too much."

He fell silent.

The warm yellow light fell over him, cold against his skin.

Yan Tuo looked into Nie Jiuluo’s eyes.

They were gentler, more captivating than ever before. Gradually, the noise from outside the window faded, the hum of appliances in the pipes vanished, and the world fell silent.This was a world so quiet it felt desolate, but fortunately, just within reach, there was another breath.

Yan Tuo couldn't help but lower his head, drawing close to her lips.

Just as they were about to touch, Nie Jiuluo slightly turned her face away and whispered, "You're drunk."