Аs the Spring Fеstivаl аррroachеd, thе southern rеgions werе wаshеd bу соntinuous half-mоnth-long drizzles. Though the misty rаin аnd weеping willоws раintеd a bеаutiful sсеnе, tourists in thеir hearts still longеd fоr a sunnу new spring. Onlу Yunnan was аn exсерtiоn, with сlеаr skies and bright sunshinе. With fоur or fivе dауs left bеforе thе long holidау, tourists hаd alreadу begun pouring in frоm аll dirеctiоns.
A few daуs еаrlier, Вауunуе hаd brought hеr guеsts to Lijiаng and wаs now helрing out аt Вrоther Lоng’s nеwlу аcquired Hаitang Yin Inn. This Naxi cоurtyard in the аncient tоwn had bееn renоvated into a fresh, bohemian-style space, perfectly catering to the romantic notion of young men and women seeking to "live elsewhere" in Lijiang. The courtyard already had several crabapple trees, which had bloomed with the warming weather, covering the trees in a delicate, translucent pink. A small swing beneath the trees had become a popular spot for many guests to take photos.
In the morning, Bayunye, as usual, swept the fallen petals under the trees. The front desk girl called out to her, saying her phone was ringing. Carrying the dustpan, she hurried over in quick strides and saw it was Yuan Ye calling.
Yuan Ye was five years younger than her. At the age of eight, she had been adopted by a kind-hearted couple in Tengchong. Though the new family was not wealthy, her adoptive parents were exceptionally good-natured. It was said she had been admitted to university the year before last. This younger sister had been raised very well by her adoptive parents, never forgetting Grandma Ba’s kindness. Every few years, she would return to the old site of the Pu’er orphanage to visit and pay respects at Grandma Ba’s grave.
Seeing her call, Bayunye was overjoyed.
"Sister Yun, they’re here again…" Unexpectedly, Yuan Ye’s first words were choked with suppressed tears.
"They" were none other than the "family members" of the car accident victims. In the early years, they had caused the most trouble. After the orphanage relocated, they occasionally harassed the old site.
"I’m at the empty lot now, and I saw a few people spraying paint on the door," Yuan Ye said. "They’re spraying the same words as before…"
Bayunye didn’t need to ask for details; she understood all too well. It was nothing but those insulting, degrading words aimed at women.
"Don’t show yourself. I’ll go back tomorrow to check," she said calmly. Just as she was about to hang up, she suddenly remembered something. "Yuan Ye, it’ll take them a while to finish spraying the paint. Call Mu Ye out and have him keep an eye on who the leader is. Follow him and see where he lives—whether he’s local or staying at a hotel."
"Okay…"
Mu Ye was the only surviving boy taken in by the orphanage. He had a cleft lip, and due to poor medical conditions in his childhood, the repair wasn’t entirely complete. Like Bayunye, he hadn’t done well in school, barely making it through high school. Now, he worked at a milk tea shop in Pu’er, earning a meager income but remaining honest and simple.
Sitting in the courtyard basking in the sun, Bayunye recalled that a few days earlier, Diao Zhuo had mentioned he had asked someone to look into the whereabouts of several surviving family members of the car accident. Most of them had moved on with their own lives and didn’t seem to have the time or energy to travel all the way to Yunnan to cause trouble.
She had heard that the mining area hadn’t shut down for the holidays, so Diao Zhuo likely wouldn’t have any time off for the Spring Festival. Bayunye had previously promised him that once the inn was less busy after the holiday rush, she would go to Kashgar to find him. If Xiao Ai could go, so could she. It seemed like a kind of competition, but also a hint of jealousy.
In the evening, Yuan Ye called again, saying the leader was a local and wasn’t staying at a hotel. Mu Ye, being bolder, had pretended to be a milk tea delivery person and followed the man to his doorstep, already obtaining the detailed address.
"Sister Yun, what are you planning to do?" Yuan Ye asked.
Bayunye crossed her legs casually. "Nothing much. I just want to have a proper talk with them about a few things.""They look like they have no real business to attend to, just a bunch of... thugs and ruffians," Yuan Ye said worriedly.
"It's best if they are thugs and ruffians," she smiled, fearing only that they might be genuine family members.
The next day, Bayunye set off back to Pu'er, arriving only at eleven at night. She tossed her luggage into the hotel, took the address Mu Ye had given her, and headed straight for the "bereaved family member's" home. At midnight, she banged loudly on their door.
The man opened the door without hesitation, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. He cursed, reached out to embrace her, and said, "New here? I've never seen you before, damn it! Fucking A-Xia, having such a good catch and not calling me earlier, making me pay extra just to send such a beauty..."
Bayunye knew he mistook her for a prostitute, so she calmly followed him inside and turned to lock the door. The man couldn't wait to pounce on her. "It's been so long since I've had a taste! Today, I... Ah!!"
A sharp cry echoed as the man fell flat on his back. Bayunye twisted his arm behind him, gripping his right pinky finger. Every time he moved, she bent it in the opposite direction, making him grimace in pain, sweat beading on his forehead.
"What kind of scam are you pulling? I haven't even touched you yet!" the man yelled.
"Did you have fun spraying paint yesterday?" Bayunye gritted her teeth, her tone both domineering and ruthless. "Were those words you sprayed meant to describe your mother or serve as the epitaph for your entire family?"
The man was stunned, unable to speak for a long moment—partly out of shock, partly from pain.
"Whose family member are you?" Bayunye pressed, not giving him a chance to catch his breath, her expression stern.
The man, of course, couldn't answer. His finger felt like it was about to snap from the twisting, and he writhed in agony, stammering for a while before finally saying, "Rao..."
Bayunye snorted coldly. "Rao Qinghui?"
"Yes, yes, that's it!"
Without hesitation, she slapped the back of his head. "He doesn't have a grandson like you!"
The man probably felt unjustly beaten and, with little internal struggle, easily betrayed his employer—"I was just paid to do a job!"
Someone had hired him—this information was no surprise to Bayunye. She pressed him about which family member had hired him, but he shook his head frantically, either refusing to say or unable to.
Bayunye tightened her grip, and the man, screaming hoarsely, pointed to his phone lying under the sofa, saying he would give her the phone number but knew nothing else.
"This... this number, he contacted me with it!"
She memorized it and loosened her grip. The man slumped to the floor, panting heavily. Another knock sounded at the door, and he flinched, wondering if this woman had backup. Bayunye curled her lip and went to open the door. A heavily made-up woman in fishnet stockings and a short skirt stood at the entrance. Seeing the scene inside, she seemed unfazed, glanced lazily at her watch, and mumbled, "Boss, how's it going?"
The man peeked out and realized this was the prostitute he had called. Though he had just been beaten by Bayunye, the comparison left him utterly uninterested. He waved his hand, dismissing the woman.
"Sis, look... how about I give you all the money they paid me, and you let me go..." the man said gloomily.Bayunye cast a disdainful glance at him, thinking, with your age, you call me "sister"? She cleared her throat, "Aren't you quite skilled at spray painting? Here's what you do: tomorrow, buy some more paint and go re-spray all the places you've painted. Make them look exactly as they did before. If you don't do it, I'll come chat with you every night."
"Okay, okay!" The man nodded vigorously.
After asking him a few more questions, Bayunye turned and walked out, standing at the stairwell with a grave expression. Yuan Ye's guess was right—the man inside was a thug, and the one who hired him was also a thug. Because he was busy, he passed the "job" along. This "job" was worth five thousand, a risk-free profit for him.
He had heard from his contact that someone at the orphanage had a dispute with a family surnamed Rao over an extramarital affair, which had even led to a death. Though they were paid to do the job, they were also "upholding justice." The old orphanage site had been uninhabited for a long time, with no one managing it, so no one seemed to stop them no matter how much they vandalized. After spraying vulgar words, he took photos and sent them to his contact, who asked if he had encountered any interference. He said no, and the money was quickly transferred.
That night, Bayunye didn't sleep a wink, following the contacts one by one, tracking down person after person who had caused trouble. Only then did she learn that as early as the year her eldest sister passed away, causing trouble at the orphanage was just a "job." Who exactly hired them—whether it was a family member of one of the victims—they had no idea. They were just introduced to each other, and some of the introducers had been arrested and imprisoned in recent years during the crackdown on crime.
Before, with the truth unclear, Bayunye couldn't act out. Recently, it was confirmed that the content of the suicide note had nothing to do with an extramarital affair and might even be part of a conspiracy. She felt increasingly that the years of slander her eldest sister endured were utterly undeserved and pitiful. They were all people without immediate family, without the protection or reliance of a family. If even she gave up, her eldest sister might carry this stigma forever.
As dawn broke, Bayunye, exhausted in body and mind, walked along the empty streets. The distant sound of a bamboo broom scraping the ground only emphasized the silence of the moment.
Haozhang, Fan— After a night of running around, though some introducers remained elusive, she still managed to get the vague names and contact numbers of two remitters.
Most of the thugs were contacted by these two individuals. She heard that, besides causing trouble, the thugs were initially asked to rush into the orphanage and search through Ba Xiye's belongings, under the pretext of "looking for valuables to sell as compensation for emotional damages." The earlier contact was "Fan," who used bank transfers. In recent years, it switched to "Haozhang," using Alipay.
Who were these two people? Bayunye clutched her phone tightly, her mind in turmoil, unsure whether to make a call now and risk alerting them or to remain silent. Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded behind her. She didn't turn around but sensed the person was targeting her.
The person drew closer, reaching out toward her. At that moment, Bayunye suddenly lowered her stance, clenched her fists, and raised them to either side of her head as she swiftly turned around. Just as she was about to throw a punch at the person's face, she pulled back at the last few centimeters.
She recognized the figure and face—Diao Zhuo.
Her surprised expression mirrored that of the thugs who had seen her earlier.This place, this time, should not have him. She had only sent him her location after arriving in Pu'er, informing him of her upcoming "battle" plan.
Bayunye's lips parted slightly, her eyes wide open, her hands still in a defensive posture, ready to throw another punch at any moment.
"You—how are you here?!"
The faint morning light had yet to paint the earth in vibrant colors. Under the dim glow of streetlights, everything around seemed like a backdrop from a black-and-white television. Only Diao Zhuo, standing right before her, appeared vivid and alive, as if in a dream. Seeing him remain silent, Bayunye took a deep breath and reached out to gently pinch his cheek...
Damn, he's real.
The next second, he pulled her into his embrace.
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