A smile curved up at the corners of Bai Shuixiao’s lips.
She released Kuang Meiying’s hair, and the knife blade pressing against her throat loosened slightly. She instructed Meng Jinsong: “Prepare a car for me.”
While everyone’s attention was focused on Bai Shuixiao, Jiang Lian leaned toward Meng Qianzi’s ear.
Meng Qianzi felt a warm breath against her ear, inwardly repulsed. She instinctively turned her head to avoid it, but Jiang Lian pressed his blade against her, forcing her to stay still. Then, using her long hair as cover, he whispered threadlike: “Miss Meng, try to understand, she’s insane and will kill people. I had no choice but to buy us some time.”
Meng Qianzi gave an extremely soft scoff.
Last time he confronted her, it was “forced by circumstances,” and this time it was “having no choice.” Heaven must be bored, singling him out for duress.
“Look… why not comply for now? I’ll find an opportunity to rescue Meiying, and then we can join forces against her, which would be much easier.”
Meng Qianzi didn’t even bother with a cold laugh. Who was this “we” he spoke of? This Jiang Lian, appearing and disappearing like a ghost, his words went in one ear and out the other. However, she did agree on one point: Bai Shuixiao indeed possessed a kind of obsessive madness. Such a person, even if captured, wouldn’t reveal anything. She would only smile sinisterly without saying a word, driving you to frustration.
So rather than capturing her, it was better to feign compliance, follow her lead, and see what she was planning…
Just then, Meng Jinsong coldly replied: “I eat from the mountain ghost’s bowl and don’t take orders from outsiders. Qianzi is right here. You don’t have the qualifications to instruct me.”
Bai Shuixiao’s expression instantly turned extremely ugly.
Jiang Lian seized this interval, speaking concisely: “Miss Meng, remaining deadlocked like this isn’t a solution. I won’t kill you. You can order an attack, but if you do, Meiying won’t survive.”
“Liu Sheng is dead, and Bai Shuixiao knows there’s no good outcome waiting if she falls into your hands. She’d rather die together with you than be captured alive, and she certainly won’t talk. Don’t you want to know why she’s targeting you and whether there’s someone else behind her? If we stay deadlocked here, you’ll never know.”
The corridor was extremely quiet, with only the sound of breathing. Jiang Lian felt he’d said everything possible; saying more would be futile.
It seemed he’d have to prepare for the worst.
He looked toward Kuang Meiying: snatching her from Bai Shuixiao would be too difficult. No matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t outpace a knife at the throat—unless Meiying desperately cooperated to dodge that knife, or if the cut landed anywhere but her throat…
Kuang Meiying seemed to understand his gaze, and her hand, hanging at her side, began to slowly move upward.
At that moment, Meng Qianzi spoke.
She said, “Since Miss Bai wants to leave, let’s prepare a car.”
With Meng Qianzi giving the order, things became much easier. However, Meng Jinsong remained cautious. After inquiring around, he had Liu Guanguo bring over the inn’s small van used for transporting guests—this vehicle couldn’t move fast and wouldn’t be difficult to chase.
Bai Shuixiao wasn’t concerned about the vehicle type. The journey from upstairs to the entrance was most critical, as mountain ghosts surrounded them, while she only had Kuang Meiying as a hostage. Every step of the retreat, every corner turned, could bring sudden changes. Fortunately, despite the tensions, the entire process went smoothly.
She didn’t know that Meng Jinsong had understood Meng Qianzi’s intentions through subtle eye signals and had quietly halted all rescue attempts. She thought it was cave spirits protecting her and silently recited several “jiakoumo (thank you)” phrases.
Upon reaching the vehicle, Bai Shuixiao ordered Wei Biao to take the driver’s seat and had Jiang Lian escort Meng Qianzi inside first. Meng Qianzi was quite cooperative, requiring no pushing or pulling. However, after sitting down, she asked Jiang Lian: “When did your two parties start colluding? Nice acting.”
Jiang Lian was at a loss for words, only offering a bitter smile.
Heaven knows, there was no collusion. Collusion requires one side to initiate and the other to respond, but neither he nor Wei Biao had any chance to speak with Bai Shuixiao—
After hearing the pounding on the door and Kuang Meiying’s screams, he and Wei Biao sat up almost simultaneously and rushed toward the door. In the confusion, Wei Biao, desperate to save Kuang Meiying, and with his large frame, charged out recklessly with considerable momentum, actually knocking him down.
He fell sitting against the wall, with a sore backside and head. Combined with being suddenly awakened from sleep, he felt dizzy and disoriented. Wei Biao yanked open the door, allowing dim light and indistinct voices to enter from outside. He looked toward the doorway and found the backlit silhouette strange and bulky.
By the time he realized it was two people, voices were already thundering throughout the building. Bai Shuixiao, restraining Kuang Meiying, retreated into the corridor and said just one sentence.
“Help me kidnap Meng Qianzi, otherwise…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, nor was it necessary. The knife speckled with bloodstains was more chilling than any threatening words.
So there was no collusion. Bai Shuixiao had given them an open-ended assignment, and he and Wei Biao had merely “actively” exercised their initiative.
But this was difficult to explain to Meng Qianzi. The small boat of friendship was already challenging to build, and now it was leaking before even setting sail. Jiang Lian spoke ambiguously: “It was forced… very improvised.”
Meng Qianzi said, “For something so improvised, your coordination is excellent. Have you considered forming a long-term partnership?”
As they spoke, Bai Shuixiao had already squeezed into the passenger seat with Kuang Meiying and snapped at Wei Biao: “Drive.”
The small van spewed exhaust as it sped away, leaving all the mountain dwellers gathering around Meng Jinsong, awaiting his instructions.
Meng Jinsong asked Liu Guanguo: “The car has a tracker, right?”
This was standard equipment for mountain ghost vehicles.
Liu Guanguo nodded: “Yes.”
The small van raced out of town.
Two people crowded the passenger seat, already cramped. To prevent any small movements from the others, Bai Shuixiao had to turn sideways to keep both the back seat and driver’s seat in view. Yet she was familiar with the roads, as if she had eyes in the back of her head. At each intersection, she’d briefly say “Turn left” or “Go straight,” without hesitation, keeping the vehicle moving relentlessly.
Soon they left the main road and headed up a mountain path.
The mountain road wasn’t nearly as smooth, bumpy, or narrow. When they reached the winding mountain road, one side hugged the mountain while the other side was almost completely exposed. In the middle of the night, with nerves highly strung, Wei Biao’s hands gripping the steering wheel were covered in sweat. Bai Shuixiao warned him: “Don’t try anything fancy, like a sudden turn—no matter how fast you are, you can’t outpace my knife. I have no interest in this little artist girl, and you don’t need to accompany her in death.”
Wei Biao had a belly full of curses he couldn’t voice. On such a mountain road, who would attempt a sharp turn? He wasn’t tired of living.
Only Meng Qianzi’s mind stirred—this woman was indeed targeting her.
She couldn’t help returning to the previous topic: “You fall into your cave, I guard my mountain. Our waters don’t mix, animal paths don’t cross bird paths. Just give me a straight answer—why all this drama?”
Bai Shuixiao switched hands, holding the knife, the blade still not leaving Kuang Meiying’s throat, while her right hand reached directly to her hair bun.
Jiang Lian followed her gaze.
Bai Shuixiao was probably Miao, wearing a Miao woman’s bun. When most people think of this, they imagine a head full of heavy, shiny silver ornaments, but those are only worn for major festivals and gatherings. Miao women don’t dress elaborately in daily life, as it would be inconvenient for work.
Ordinary Miao girls pull their long hair up and tie it into a bun on top of their heads. This bun is large, so sometimes to prevent it from coming undone, they wrap it with a black cloth, then insert a flower in front to represent the sun and a comb in the back to represent the moon. Those who love beauty might add some bright decorations to the bun, whatever looks good.
Bai Shuixiao slipped her fingers behind the inserted flower, inside the wrapped cloth, and took out a small, inch-long, cylindrical twig, holding it between her fingers. She glanced sideways at Jiang Lian and asked: “Do you have fire?”