After Xiao Cong woke up, his mood became much more stable.
When he saw Zhong Mu sitting by his bed, he immediately stretched out both arms from under the covers, asking for a hug.
A life-skills teacher nearby said with a smile, “He really likes you.”
“I’ve noticed that too.” Zhong Mu picked Xiao Cong up.
The little boy’s body was soft and warm, his limbs slender, like a newborn puppy. Zhong Mu didn’t want to associate him with the bloodied face from the elevator.
She took his clothes and helped him change, making small talk as she did so. “Xiao Cong is so cute. Who does everyone say you look more like, your daddy or your mommy?”
Xiao Cong was still groggy, rubbing his eyes and asking, “Has Mommy come to pick me up?”
Zhong Mu probed, “What’s Mommy’s name?”
Xiao Cong snuggled into her arms, not answering the question, and just said sullenly, “Mommy seems to have lost me.”
Their conversation was relayed synchronously through the listening device. Zhuang Ningyu placed the black tea in his hand on the conference table and, with unwavering spirit despite his physical disability, wheeled himself in for the meeting.
“Based on the information we’ve gathered so far, Du Xiaohe rarely returned to Yun’s home village. Even when she did, she usually stayed at home and didn’t go out. The villagers’ impression of her is mostly that she was taciturn and didn’t cause trouble.”
Qian Yue asked, “Then why did she go back to Yun’s village in the middle of winter? What was she looking for? Dirt on Yun Dali, like some kind of criminal evidence?”
Yi Ke said, “I’d guess ten to one she was looking for her child.”
Zhuang Ningyu nodded. “I agree, looking for her child.”
Once Du Xiaohe discovered her child was missing, she would definitely go to Yun Dali. And the most convenient and reasonable excuse Yun Dali could come up with would be that he had sent the child to a relative’s house in his hometown to play.
Yun’s village was far from Jincheng, with poor transportation. Moreover, Du Xiaohe had no relatives or friends in the village and didn’t even know who to call, so she had no way of verifying the truth of the matter unless she went there herself.
And so, she really did go there herself.
However, after arriving at Yun’s village, Du Xiaohe found that her child was not there at all. Yun Dali was lying.
Zhuang Ningyu continued, “It’s very likely that at that time, Xiao Cong had already fallen to his death. Yun Dali didn’t want Du Xiaohe to know about this, so he chased her to his village, wanting to take her away. The two met near Gaolin Mountain, and perhaps a huge argument broke out, or perhaps there was some other secret involved, which ultimately led to Du Xiaohe’s drowning.”
An orphan girl with simple social connections and a severe lack of social interaction—as long as Yun Dali didn’t report the case and insisted that the two had broken up and were no longer in contact, the whole matter would indeed be impossible to investigate.
That night, the weather turned cold again, the chill almost seeming to seep into the skin. This was not a good sign, because based on past experience, a pervasive cold mist often indicated the approach of a monster.
“It might not be the protagonist who’s coming, it could be Xiao Cong’s mom,” Qian Yue said, having finished dinner at 1601. “Brother Zhuang, do you want orange juice or pineapple juice?”
Yi Ke answered, “He doesn’t want anything.”
Zhuang Ningyu certainly didn’t want to drink juice in such chilly weather, but he was even less willing to let Yi Ke be his food spokesperson. So he decided to drink a bottle of body-harming, ice-cold pineapple juice in protest. But before he could open his mouth, a warm bedtime drink was thrust into his hand.
Yi Ke introduced it, “Longan and lily tea. It can calm the nerves. Give it a try.”
The fat, round glass cup looked particularly beautiful under the light. Qian Yue closed the refrigerator door. “Teacher Zhang’s family has such tasteful cups? I’ll ask him for a link tomorrow and buy a couple for my mom too.”
Yi Ke replied loftily, “I brought them from home.”
Qian Yue gave a thumbs-up. Bringing your own tableware on a mission, so particular. As expected of you.
Then his gaze fell on a large cashmere blanket with a beautiful sheen in the corner of the sofa. Yi Ke’s lips curled slightly, and it looked like his next words, “I also brought that from home,” were already on the tip of his tongue.
Zhuang Ningyu really didn’t want to hear anymore, so he chose to actively interrupt this offline product exchange.
He said, “If it’s really Du Xiaohe who’s coming, that’s not good news for us.”
Qian Yue asked, “Why?”
“Haven’t you noticed? The weather here is closely related to the monster’s danger level,” Zhuang Ningyu said, taking a sip of hot tea.
“The worse the monster’s mood, the colder the weather, and vice versa. For example, last night, when Xiao Cong and that group of little monsters appeared, the weather was relatively normal.”
And the drop in temperature tonight meant that the next monster to appear was not a friendly one. If it was the original one, it would be fine, but if another equally dangerous “mother” appeared, it would only increase the difficulty of the mission.
“But Xiao Cong’s mother just wants to take her child and leave. It doesn’t make sense for her to be hostile to us. It probably isn’t her who’s coming.”
Qian Yue’s butt was glued to the sofa as he volunteered, “Brother Zhuang, do you want me to change your dressing?”
He now had a sense of professional crisis, afraid that Yi Ke would snatch his job. He had even emphasized to his boss several times, both explicitly and implicitly, You need to be on high alert too!
This made Zhuang Ningyu mentally and physically exhausted, unable to scold him.
After much reflection, he wondered if the Dispute Resolution Department should significantly raise the IQ entry threshold during interviews.
In exchange for some peace and quiet, Zhuang Ningyu decided on the spot, “This week’s ‘Department Work Summary on Shortcomings and Improvements’ is yours to write.”
As expected, Qian Yue was struck by lightning. “Why?”
There is no why. Your boss is just that unreasonable.
Zhuang Ningyu kicked him out the door with his good leg, sending him off to write the report so he wouldn’t drag the department down.
Turning back, he saw Yi Ke holding the first-aid kit with a half-smile on his face and immediately felt that there wasn’t a single normal person around him. He held out his hand. “I’ll do it myself.”
“Impossible,” Yi Ke refused flatly, kneeling in front of the sofa to undo his bandage.
The knee was clearly even more bruised and swollen, the old surgical scars crisscrossing it, looking somewhat shocking. Yi Ke covered it completely with his palm, and Zhuang Ningyu, a patient with obsessive-compulsive disorder, immediately felt his heart being scratched by a cat.
He wanted to ask, The ointment is sticky, why are you touching it? And at the same time, he chided himself, Why do I care if it’s sticky or not? Shouldn’t I just concisely say a firm NO to workplace harassment?
Sensing the other’s rigid body, Yi Ke deliberately lightened his movements as he continued to treat the wound. He first wiped off the old ointment with a bandage, then tore open a new dressing, smoothed it out, and covered the entire area. The cold medicinal film made Zhuang Ningyu want to pull back slightly, but Yi Ke held his calf. The next moment, both his hands were covering his knee, the warmth from his palms very comforting. Zhuang Ningyu resisted the urge to slap him and tried his best to discuss pharmacology calmly, You know, it’s possible that this cold sensation is also part of the treatment for bruising and swelling.
Yi Ke squeezed out a perfunctory sound from his nose, then moved his hands down, re-circling his calf, and then rested his chin on his knee.
He could come up with eight hundred different tricks in a minute.
Zhuang Ningyu didn’t know whether to describe this clinginess that he couldn’t shake off as being like a cat or a dog.
Perhaps seeing that his expression was one of utter despair, Yi Ke offered a suggestion, “You clearly said you liked me at the beginning.”
Zhuang Ningyu corrected, “I didn’t say I liked you very much. My original words were ‘I also like your point of view’.”
Yi Ke refused to accept the facts, letting out a light “hmph,” and wouldn’t listen.
The two had met at a book club. At that time, Zhuang Ningyu had just retired from the Order Maintenance Department due to injury and had not yet been transferred to the Dispute Resolution Department. He was lying at home all day, about to grow mold, so a friend recommended he join a literary exchange group hosted by a bookstore. On a weekend evening, he went to the first offline reading session on crutches and met Yi Ke, who was also a member.
At that time, Yi Ke was leaning against a light-colored bookshelf, looking down at a hardcover book in his hand. The red cover made his fingers look fair and slender, and he looked clean, quiet, and completely non-aggressive.
Sensing that someone seemed to be looking at him, Yi Ke looked up and raised an eyebrow slightly. “Need help?”
“No,” Zhuang Ningyu smiled politely. “Sorry to disturb you.”
The book club went smoothly. As it was about to end, Zhuang Ningyu was holding a book and leaning on a corner sofa. The dim light spilled over his shoulder onto the pages, casting a pale gray shadow. An unknown piano piece flowed in the air.
He closed his eyes, just wanting to rest for a moment, but a soft reading voice came to his ear, “When I do see your face, then I think the night is changed to day, therefore I think I am not in the night—”
Zhuang Ningyu woke up with a start, snapping the book shut.
Yi Ke moved his gaze from his book to his face and smiled, extending his hand. “Hello, shall we formally introduce ourselves?”
Zhuang Ningyu, replaying the scene in his mind later, deeply felt that he should have picked up his crutch and run away immediately, instead of being bewitched and answering him, Okay.
Okay, my foot. Zhuang Ningyu regretted it deeply, patting his head. “Go back to sleep.”
Yi Ke covered his legs with a blanket. “The wind is picking up outside again.”
Hearing this, Zhuang Ningyu frowned slightly. The wind meant a drop in temperature, and once the temperature dropped… Sure enough, within five minutes, all the action team members’ communicators lit up.
The monster on a business trip had returned.
He appeared silently at the dormitory entrance, tall and burly, wrapped in a cold mist, his pair of blood-red fish eyes constantly peering inside. The children were clearly terrified of him, lying in their beds without daring to move. The monster’s gaze swept over one child after another, finally landing on an empty little bed. He asked slowly, “Where is my child?”
Ye Jiaoyue closed the dormitory door. “Sir, now is not the time to pick up your child.”
“I’m asking you,” the monster’s eyes were fixed on her, “where is my child?”
As he said this, the veins on his arms bulged, and sticky saliva dripped from his mouth, almost landing on Ye Jiaoyue’s hair. “You’ve lost my child!”
The roar pierced through the mist. Xiao Cong tightly covered his own mouth, not daring to make a sound. He motioned for Zhong Mu to cover her mouth too and whispered, “Daddy doesn’t like people to talk loudly.”
The two of them were currently in the property management office. The moment the wind had picked up, Ye Jiaoyue had Zhong Mu move Xiao Cong from the dormitory. The night could amplify all sounds. In his headphones was the monster’s roar, and Ye Jiaoyue’s calm, stern voice, “I said the child is on an autumn trip and hasn’t returned to school yet. If you cause any more trouble, we will call the police!”
The monster was powerless in his rage. After a stalemate with no result, he finally walked towards Building 1 and pressed the button for the 16th floor. The action team members quickly entered 1601, all on high alert. In their view, the monster who hadn’t found his child should be extremely angry and was likely to take it out on his wife again. Ye Jiaoyue also reminded Qing Gang, “If things go south, run. Don’t confront him head-on, it’s not necessary.”
“Don’t worry, Captain Ye.” Qing Gang took off his headphones and, facing the security door that was knocked open with a “thud,” showed a shocked expression. “Weren’t you on a business trip?”
The monster snorted angrily from his nose and, surprisingly, didn’t show any dissatisfaction with the empty dining table. He threw down his hammer and slowly moved to the bathroom. This left Qing Gang, who had been prepared for a fight, feeling like he had punched cotton—empty and unfulfilled even after a long while.
Ye Jiaoyue arranged for Xiao Cong to stay in a vacant room. Perhaps influenced by the monster, he seemed like a completely different person from before, not making any noise, extremely well-behaved, and constantly following behind Zhong Mu.
“What’s wrong, are you not feeling well?” Zhong Mu squatted down to look at him.
Xiao Cong shook his head, his face pale as he said, “No.” After a while, he added, “I’m a little afraid of Daddy.”
He lay on Zhong Mu’s back, his fingers twirling her ponytail, his voice very soft as he called, “Mommy.”
“Captain Ye,” after Xiao Cong fell asleep, Zhong Mu reported, “after the monster appeared, his health has clearly deteriorated.”
If this deterioration was continuous, it meant that Xiao Cong would eventually “die” again under the monster’s influence.
Now the key was to find the mother quickly.
“Whether from a logical point of view or from the rules this time, the relationship between ‘mother’ and ‘child’ should be very close,” Qian Yue analyzed, sitting on the desk. “Xiao Cong appeared last night, but the monster only came home tonight. For a mother who is wholeheartedly trying to leave with her son, this entire day in between was a good opportunity. So why didn’t she appear? Could it be because the rules already have a ‘wife’ role, like the boss and Brother Qing, causing her to lose her original position and thus be unable to appear? Or is she imprisoned? Too sick to get up? If it’s the latter two possibilities, wouldn’t there be two ‘wives’ at the same time in the rules? Is that really logical?”
“Wait a minute.” A thought struck Zhuang Ningyu, and he suddenly thought of another possibility. He looked up and saw that Yi Ke was also looking at him. Both of them read the same meaning in each other’s eyes: the wife in 1601 was not Xiao Cong’s mother.
Du Xiaohe was not Xiao Cong’s mother. In other words, Yun Dali cheated!
Qian Yue had unintentionally become the one to light up the inspiration bulb above everyone’s heads and was immediately given the name Qian Edison. As long as Du Xiaohe was not Xiao Cong’s mother, then all the doubts had an answer—whether it was the neighbors’ firm statement of “never having seen the child” or the monster’s abnormal behavior of not mentioning the child at all after coming home tonight, it all made sense. Because the child was only Yun Dali’s and had nothing to do with Du Xiaohe. She probably didn’t even know this child existed!
In this way, the woman who had been drowned in the pond at Gaolin Mountain back then was probably not Du Xiaohe either. Du Xiaohe rarely returned to Yun’s village, and few people could remember her specific appearance. Therefore, when a woman who had just recovered from a major illness, traveled through the wind and dust in the middle of the night, and was wrapped in a large red scarf appeared in the village, claiming to be visiting Yun Dali’s elders, most people would have mistaken her for “Yun Dali’s wife.” As for who Yun Dali’s wife actually was, Du Xiaohe was just their default answer.
So the latest question now became, where was Du Xiaohe now, who was Xiao Cong’s biological mother, and if Du Xiaohe had never had a child, why hadn’t the monster previously raised any objections to the “pregnancy” of the “Du Xiaohe” in 1601?
Nearing noon, Huo Ting brought the answer to the first question. The investigation team had questioned Cheng Ye in the morning. The other party did not deny his relationship with Yun Dali, nor did he deny building the soul-suppressing pagoda on the roof back then. The reason was “to appease the soul of the child who died unfortunately.”
Zhuang Ningyu was puzzled. “The child who died unfortunately? What kind of right medicine has he been taking lately to confess so quickly?”
