There's nothing like sleeping in your own bed. Nie Jiuluo had a wonderful sleep and when she opened her eyes, she still felt it wasn't enough—this nap should have lasted longer.
She got up to wash up, and while drying her face, she heard noises from outside—it was Sister Lu coming up to collect last night's dinner plates.
Nie Jiuluo opened the door and peeked out: "Sister Lu, what's for breakfast? How about you make some wontons and let Yan Tuo try your cooking?"
Her own breakfast was usually just plain congee with side dishes, but Yan Tuo might still be hungry—Sister Lu's chicken soup and shrimp wontons were unbeatable, far better than any street vendor's. It just so happened they had wontons last night, so a comparison would highlight the difference.
Sister Lu carried the dishes downstairs and tossed back, "Try my cooking? He left early this morning."
Who left early?
Nie Jiuluo froze on the spot.
Yan Tuo?
How dare he leave without even saying goodbye!
He really dared!
The guest room was quiet, almost as if no one had stayed there. The blanket was neatly folded into a perfect square—definitely not Sister Lu's doing; she preferred Western-style bed-making.
On the table was a note that read: "I put the box in the cabinet."
Put your head in the cabinet! Nie Jiuluo angrily crumpled the edges of the note, making it rustle loudly.
Sister Lu came in with the vacuum cleaner, keeping the volume low: "He folded that blanket really well, sharp edges and all. I asked him, and he said he learned it during military training—his whole department said he was the best at it, even got picked to demonstrate."
Really? Nie Jiuluo grew even more displeased: Sister Lu knew all this, while she didn't.
She muttered, "So rude."
Sister Lu laughed. "He got up early and waited for you for a long time. You were the one who wouldn't wake up—who can you blame? I was going to call you, but he said forget it, you're a patient and tired from traveling yesterday. He said letting you sleep more would help you recover. He also mentioned leaving early to avoid traffic later."
Nie Jiuluo gave an indifferent "Oh," crumpling and smoothing the note repeatedly before finally rolling it into a tiny scroll. As she twisted it, she leaned on her crutch and walked out.
Now that rehabilitation was on the agenda, she planned to go downstairs three times a day, circling the yard three times each, aiming to ditch the crutches within half a month. As for her arm, she couldn't exert much effort herself, so frequent visits to private hospitals for medical rehab would have to do.
The small courtyard was a quiet oasis amidst the bustle, adorned with flowers and plants that added serenity. Lao Tang had originally planned seasonal scenery for the yard, with flowers blooming in rotation. Now that winter had arrived, the narcissus, hellebores, tulips, and... white plum blossoms were in full bloom.
Nie Jiuluo walked over to the white plum tree.
She loved plants that were either exceptionally tall or delightfully miniature—the tiny ones were like delicate spirits, while the towering ones seemed almost human, with souls equal to people's. Both were vibrant life forms, inspiring awe.
Listlessly, Nie Jiuluo reached out to touch a blossom on a branch, feeling deeply dissatisfied at this moment.
But she was back home—everything should be perfect.
Sister Lu finished cleaning and came out, suddenly remembering something: "Oh, right. Before Mr. Yan left, he mentioned how lovely the plum blossoms were and asked if he could take a cutting. I said no."
Nie Jiuluo froze, then grew agitated: "Why wouldn't you let him?"
Sister Lu looked puzzled. "Didn't you say your flowers were only for you to prune or arrange, or for Lao Tang to trim? You hate it when people randomly pick or break them."Nie Jiuluo suddenly remembered. There was that one time when a TV crew came for filming and interviews. The crowd was quite mixed, and one of the cameramen had plucked a flower and tucked it behind his ear, thinking it was stylish and unique. She found it quite distasteful and later instructed Sister Lu to stop any visitors from picking flowers without mercy.
She said, "Well, it depends on the person, doesn’t it? Didn’t he save me when I fell from the grotto? Since he’s helped so much, what’s the harm in picking one flower?"
Even if he wanted the whole tree, she’d have it dug up and let him carry it away.
Only then did Sister Lu realize belatedly, "Oh, that’s true."
She quickly tried to smooth things over, "Ah, I don’t think it’s a big deal. That Mr. Yan seems like a good-tempered fellow—he probably wouldn’t mind."
Nie Jiuluo didn’t press further. Leaning on her cane, she slowly shuffled away to continue her rehabilitation exercises. When she reached the main gate, driven by some inexplicable impulse, she unlatched the bolt and pushed the door half-open.
The sunlight was glorious, spilling generously into the alley.
But outside, it was empty.
Her phone weighed heavily in her pocket, dragging the fabric down.
He left without even saying goodbye—didn’t even bother to send her a message.
Nie Jiuluo snorted and shut the door.
Well, unless it was urgent, she wouldn’t message him either.
Who wasn’t busy these days?
At noon, Yan Tuo pulled into a service area.
He had originally planned to grab a quick meal, but the food there looked so unappetizing that he settled for some biscuits and a drink, which he took back to his car to consume.
The midday sun was warm. Yan Tuo left the car door half-open, munching on biscuits between sips of his drink. The service area was bustling—large buses kept pulling in, disgorging dozens of passengers in search of food, only for drivers to soon bellow, "All aboard!" and the crowd would stream back onto the vehicles like tributaries rejoining a river.
Yan Tuo ate while watching the scene unfold, as if he were an audience member and the passengers were actors. So many people, coming from and heading to so many places—each must have countless stories of their own.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a corner of a plastic bag peeking out from under the passenger seat.
What was that?
He leaned down, hooked the bag’s opening with his fingers, and pulled it out.
Ah, he recognized it—the "delivery" Nie Jiuluo had bought along the way. When he’d asked her about it, she’d called it "professional."
How careless of her. She must have been so excited to get home that she forgot even her belongings. Yan Tuo sighed. Looks like he’d have to arrange a courier to return it to her later.
He placed the tied-up bag on the passenger seat and went back to his snack. But curiosity got the better of him, and he couldn’t resist stealing another glance at the bag.
Her home was her studio—she had everything she needed there. What could have been so urgent that she had to buy it mid-journey?
Setting aside his drink and biscuits, he picked up the bag again.
It had some weight, but not much.
Yan Tuo untied the opening.
Inside was…
First, he pulled out a car ornament.
Not the kind you could buy off the shelf—this was handmade. A string with four little clay figurines clinging to it, unmistakably modeled after him, each pose captured perfectly. Dressed in a black T-shirt, black pants, and sand-colored boots, but in an adorable chibi style. The topmost figure had one arm around the string while the other shaded its eyes, like a monkey scouting the path, with two white characters on its back: "Clear." The second figure hugged the string with both hands, a pained expression on its face, its back also bearing two white characters: "Stuck."
At the sight of the second one, Yan Tuo couldn’t help but burst out laughing.The third one was bristling with rage, mouth gaping wider than a gourd, clearly spewing curses, with the words "Move aside" written on its back.
The last one seemed to be imitating a Buddha, sitting cross-legged, with "No rush" on its chest and "Stay calm" on its back.
At the very bottom hung a small plaque bordered with ruyi patterns, inscribed with "Smooth sailing" on the front and "Safe travels" on the reverse.
Absolutely... brilliant.
Yan Tuo carefully placed this car ornament on the dashboard.
There was more inside.
Still hand-sculpted figurines, each with a circular base—clearly meant to be displayed. And they were all modeled after him, but in a childlike version, complete with a perky little topknot on the head.
The first one was holding a duck in its arms.
A duck...
Yan Tuo held it in his hand, truly lost in thought for a good while.
The second one had a flushed face and puffed cheeks, carrying a duffel bag on its back and dragging a suitcase with one hand.
This was definitely poking fun at him with the suitcase. Yan Tuo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The third one had a black cloth covering its face, tiptoeing around like a thief.
Ah, he remembered—this was mocking him for that time he tailed someone in the dead of night.
The last one...
The last one really made Yan Tuo double over with laughter. It depicted the moment the bed collapsed, with him on it flailing his arms and legs in panic—utterly ridiculous.
After laughing his fill, he peeked into the bag again. There was a bottle of adhesive—she’d even thought of how to stick them in place—and a note densely covered in writing.
Yan Tuo picked it up to read.
—Each figurine is 200, the car ornament 800. If you don’t like them, please return them. If you do, please pay. If you’re truly impressed, an extra tip would be appreciated. Art is priceless, and a one-handed artist has it tough.
At the end was an Alipay account.
Well, she had him there.
Yan Tuo picked up his phone and transferred the money to Nie Jiuluo one by one, specifying each payment for which item—clear accounts make good friends.
A tip was a must, since he was "truly impressed." At first, he typed "666," but when it came time to pay, his heart softened unexpectedly.
A one-handed artist.
Last night, even writing a note required his help to hold down the paper. With just one hand, she’d sculpted all these—even if she was skilled and experienced, it couldn’t have been easy.
So he added another "6." Let the one-handed artist earn a little more.
...
Meanwhile, Nie Jiuluo had just finished her second round of three trips downstairs for the day and was curled up in a large canvas chair, basking in the sun while watching Sister Lu peel winter bamboo shoots.
Sister Lu had said they’d be having stir-fried shredded bamboo shoots with pork for dinner tonight.
As she watched, her phone buzzed with notifications—not just one, but a continuous stream, the cheerful chimes overlapping.
Nie Jiuluo picked it up to check, and the smile on her face gradually became impossible to hide.
Sister Lu asked curiously, "What’s up?"
Nie Jiuluo arched her delicate brows, her expression radiant. "I made some money."
Sister Lu said, "Don’t you make money all the time?"
After a pause, she added as a reminder, "When it comes to earning money, it’s fine to be happy at home, but don’t smile like that outside. People will say you’re overjoyed by a little cash—it’s not very artistic."
After finishing the transfers, Yan Tuo first hung up the car ornament, then used the adhesive to stick each figurine onto the dashboard. The car was the same car, but it instantly looked much less "plain."
He was about to take a photo to send to the artist as a buyer’s review when his phone rang.
Lin Xirou.
Yan Tuo answered casually, his tone calm. "Aunt Lin."
Lin Xirou’s voice was as gentle and warm as ever. "Xiao Tuo, how’s the visit going?"Yan Tuo smiled, "I visited one in Zhengzhou, planning to hit another tonight. For the rest, let the company’s mid-to-high-level reps handle it, or just send some New Year gifts as a token."
Lin Xirou also smiled, "Just show face by visiting two. Wrap it up early and come back. You’re the boss—learn to take it easy and let others do the work."
...
After hanging up, Lin Xirou clicked her mouse, and the paused video on her computer screen resumed.
It was surveillance footage from an overhead angle, showing Yan Tuo standing almost motionless at the door of the cultivation room.
After a pause, Lin Xirou clicked pause again, studying Yan Tuo on the screen.
Beside her, Xiong Hei cleared his throat. "Timeline-wise, that was shortly after Gou Ya woke up. We were inside talking to him."
Lin Xirou said nothing.
Xiong Hei added, "I called to check. He really was visiting partners on this trip. The boss in Zhengzhou even told me Yan Tuo got drunk that night and had to call a designated driver."
Lin Xirou hummed in acknowledgment. "Xiao Tuo... what’s he up to?"
Xiong Hei thought for a moment. "Could he just be too curious about us?"
Lin Xirou shook her head. "Curiosity has its limits. This isn’t curiosity."
Xiong Hei grew impatient. "Lin-jie, instead of guessing, why not just call him in and ask?"
Lin Xirou said, "No."
She closed the video, her expression neutral. "For now, pretend we know nothing."
After a pause, she asked, "What about the well site?"
Xiong Hei pulled out his phone and showed her photos from the scene. The tripod was set up, the rented equipment in place—now it was just a matter of whether there was anything in the well.
August 28, 1997 / Friday / Heavy Rain
This morning, I woke up from another nightmare—dreaming of Li Shuangxiu clawing her way out from underground, eyes bloodshot, choking me until I nearly died.
When I finally opened my eyes, a heavy rain was pouring outside, the sky pitch black. Thunder kept rolling over the roof, each boom making me shudder.
Xiao Tuo, oblivious, kept fussing about wanting to raise ducklings. How could I possibly be in the mood to buy him ducks now? I yelled at him twice, and he burst into tears, crying and begging for Aunt Shuangxiu, asking where she’d gone.
I snapped. I grabbed him like a chick and beat him hard. By the end, Xiao Tuo’s cries had turned hoarse. He hid far from me, curled up in a corner of the sofa, sobbing. Xinxin crawled over and patted his back gently, just like how I soothe her to sleep, babbling, "Gege, no cry."
Seeing my two children like this shattered my heart.
I’ve killed someone.
Ten days ago, I killed Li Shuangxiu.
I hadn’t meant to. I’d endured months of this "no divorce, no reconciliation, living under the same roof while ignoring each other" arrangement. Min Juan said I was doing the right thing—"Be the thorn in their eyes, don’t let that pair of scoundrels have their way."
How naive I was. Anyone could’ve guessed this setup would lead to trouble.
That day...
The trigger was probably hearing Li Shuangxiu tell Xiao Tuo to call her "Mom." After that, I wasn’t myself anymore. A murderous impulse surged inside me.In the afternoon, Li Shuangxiu was running water for a bath. I saw her open the closet and take my clothes. That shameless woman, using other people's things as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Who does she think she is?
I followed her into the bathroom.
I don’t remember what I said to her, only that we started arguing within a couple of sentences, and it escalated quickly. Then, I pushed her.
I really only gave her a slight push. She slipped and fell into the bathtub, but I never expected her to pull the electrical cord into the water with her.
It was terrifying, absolutely horrifying. There was water on the floor, and I was afraid… afraid I might get electrocuted too, so I ran. I heard her scream and smelled something burning, but I didn’t do anything else.
Later, I turned off the circuit breaker, put on cotton gloves, and pushed the door open to look. My legs gave out in fear, and I collapsed to the ground, unable to get up for a long time.
I saw her floating in the water, half of her face burned black. Is that what happens with electrocution? How could she burn like that in water?
I’ve killed someone.
Lin Xirou, you’re finished. You’re a murderer.
I called Da Shan. No matter how much I hated him, when something happened, he was still the first person I thought of.
When Da Shan came back, he was stunned too. He sat on the sofa, smoking one cigarette after another. My eyes were swollen from crying, and my head ached from it. I said, “Da Shan, I should turn myself in.”
Da Shan wouldn’t let me.
He stubbed out his cigarette, shooed me away to put Xiao Tuo and Xinxin to bed, and said, “Don’t worry about it.”
Like a lost soul, I kept Xiao Tuo and Xinxin in the bedroom while I listened to Da Shan working outside—running water, dragging something, driving away, and then driving back.
By the time he returned, it was already midnight. The kids were long asleep. My whole body was trembling, and I didn’t even have the strength to open the door for Da Shan. He let himself in with his key and told me he had already buried Li Shuangxiu.
Buried her far away.
He told me to forget about it.
But really, I should turn myself in, shouldn’t I?
Lin Xirou, wake up. Justice has long arms—you can’t escape it. Turning yourself in might earn you leniency. It was manslaughter, not intentional.
This heavy rain, these loud thunderclaps—they’re meant to shake you awake.
P.S. Da Shan called to say he’d be back late tonight. He said with the rain this heavy, he had to check the burial site. If the body got washed out, it would be disastrous.
—[Excerpt from Lin Xirou’s Diary]
OpenNovel