Could it be a cigarette?
Jiang Lian had once heard Master Gan mention that in Yunnan, there was a type of wood that could be smoked like cigarettes—locals would cut it into thin, long strips like cigarettes, light them, and hold them in their mouths. This satisfied the craving for smoking without harmful components like nicotine. He hadn’t expected Xiangxi to have this too. Bai Shuixiao was quite relaxed, thinking about smoking at this moment, and her way of hiding cigarettes was somewhat… sensual.
He shook his head: “I don’t smoke.”
Bai Shuixiao held up the cylindrical twig for Meng Qianzi to see: “This is what I burned, lit, and threw into the corridor. After a while, your people collapsed. Unfortunately, I had too little, and the space was too large, greatly reducing its effectiveness.”
Meng Qianzi smiled without humor: “The car’s space is small, sufficient for your purposes.”
Bai Shuixiao also smiled: “We’re driving now, and besides, there’s no fire.”
At this point, she glanced out the window and said, “Stop the car.”
Wei Biao slammed on the brakes.
As the car’s sound ceased, the surroundings became frighteningly quiet. The mountains above and cliffs below were like great masses of unblurred black ink, while the winding mountain road was made starkly visible by the pale moonlight.
Jiang Lian looked out the window: the stopping position was very peculiar, exactly at a curve in the winding mountain road—a dangerous parking spot. Mountain infrastructure hadn’t kept up; there were no guardrails at the cliff edge, only one or two symbolic wooden stakes. Stopping here, if cars came from either direction, a collision would be inevitable. And if one fell off, from such a high cliff, death would be the only outcome.
Bai Shuixiao bit the cylindrical twig between her teeth, like holding half a cigarette. With one hand, she grabbed Kuang Meiying’s chin and lifted it, pressing the knife against her protruding throat. Poor Kuang Meiying could only emit muffled, broken sounds, unable to speak.
Wei Biao was both anxious and angry: “What are you doing?”
Bai Shuixiao spoke with the twig between her teeth, her pronunciation somewhat unclear: “Nothing much, just preventing you from causing trouble.”
She smiled at Meng Qianzi: “I’m also doing this for someone else. We arranged to hand over the person here. I don’t want any problems at the last moment.”
Indeed, there was someone behind this.
Before meeting the real mastermind, Meng Qianzi didn’t want to create complications. She smiled and sat even more comfortably: “What kind of character is the money man? Can you give me a hint? When we meet, I’d like to be prepared.”
“Money man” also referred to the mastermind. Over the past hundred years or so, paper money has replaced gold and silver, no longer measured in taels. Banknotes were counted in “zhang” (sheets), so the underworld affectionately called them “zhang’er” (little sheets). Meng Qianzi used this slang both because it came naturally and because she was curious about Bai Shuixiao’s background, wanting to probe her knowledge.
Bai Shuixiao didn’t seem to know about “zhang’er” or “pian’er” (slang for money), but this didn’t impede understanding. She stared at Meng Qianzi for a long time, as if weighing the feasibility of this, and finally nodded quite readily: “Alright.”
As she spoke, she bent down toward Meng Qianzi, who naturally sat up straight and lifted her face.
At this moment, Jiang Lian noticed a subtle fluctuation in Bai Shuixiao’s gaze.
He sensed something was wrong, but before this thought could clarify, it was already too late: Bai Shuixiao pressed her lips together, and immediately afterward, a cloud of white powder spurted from the cylindrical twig in her mouth.
Jiang Lian knew this was bad and immediately held his breath. The powder wasn’t directed at him, but sitting so close, he was still affected by a small amount. He felt dizzy and disoriented, though he was relatively better off. Meng Qianzi, however, got a faceful of the powder. Forget holding her breath—she couldn’t even close her eyes in time. Jiang Lian heard her coughing continuously.
What happened to her next, Jiang Lian couldn’t attend to—the car door was violently kicked open, and Bai Shuixiao dragged Kuang Meiying out of the car, heading directly toward the cliff edge.
Jiang Lian’s back went cold. He quickly pursued, jumping out of the car. Wei Biao also hurriedly circled from the other side, but Bai Shuixiao stood too close to the cliff edge. Neither dared to make a rash move. Kuang Meiying was so frightened she couldn’t even make a sound, her body trembling continuously.
Bai Shuixiao smiled at the two, half her body seemingly immersed in the darkness below the cliff: “Let’s see if you’re fast enough.”
Before her words ended, her smile vanished. With considerable arm strength, she yanked Kuang Meiying’s entire body up horizontally and forcefully threw her toward the cliff.
Jiang Lian felt a thunderous boom in the depths of his skull. Damn it, this woman was insane!
The situation was critical, allowing no moment’s hesitation. Almost simultaneously as Kuang Meiying’s body flew out, Jiang Lian had taken two bounds to reach the cliff edge. His foot pushed heavily off the ground, propelling him toward where Kuang Meiying was falling, shouting: “Grab me!”
It was fortunate that Kuang Meiying was slender, and her nightgown and coat caught the wind. Especially the coat, which, after all the commotion, was already half off. As she was thrown and fell, it separated from her body, billowing in the wind. Although Jiang Lian couldn’t overtake her, he managed to wrap his arm around Kuang Meiying’s waist. Midair, with a flip, he saw Wei Biao let out a great roar, both hands embracing the wooden stake, his entire body swinging out over the cliff. He was using his body as a rope for Jiang Lian to grab.
Jiang Lian judged the position of his feet and instinctively felt he couldn’t reach them. His heart sank suddenly, but then he spotted that coat. Without thinking, he grabbed it and flung it around Wei Biao’s ankle. The coat wrapped around Wei Biao’s ankle but soon slipped off—it wasn’t a proper knot. However, Jiang Lian used the pulling force from this wrapping to surge upward, extending his arm long, finally firmly grasping Wei Biao’s ankle.
Three people, one hanging from another like a string of gourds, dangled precariously from the cliff.
This series of catching, wrapping, and grabbing, though seemingly complex, happened in a flash, each opportunity fleeting: if he hadn’t caught Kuang Meiying, or if Wei Biao hadn’t been so tall, or if that coat hadn’t been there, the consequences would have been unimaginable.
Only now did Jiang Lian feel the fear, sweat pouring down his back like rain, chilled by the cliff wind, making him feel stiff. Neither the arm holding Kuang Meiying nor the hand gripping Wei Biao’s ankle could move anymore. Kuang Meiying was silent, her head hanging limply—she had fainted again from fright.
From the cliff above came the sound of the van starting up.
This sound instantly brought Jiang Lian back to reality: Bai Shuixiao hadn’t lied. She only wanted Meng Qianzi. This cliff episode was merely her clever way of discarding the burdensome extras—whether they lived or died didn’t matter to her.
Jiang Lian looked up, wanting to urge Wei Biao to pull them up quickly.
He didn’t need to urge him. Wei Biao, concerned for Kuang Meiying’s safety, wished he had several more arms to pull with. He used the wooden stake for leverage, forcefully pulling his upper body onto the cliff face, then clawed at the ground, moving inward inch by inch. His bull-like strength was truly remarkable—even with two people hanging from his foot, he wasn’t delayed. Once most of his body was secure, he immediately turned to sit firmly, like a banker sitting down, and with a muffled grunt of effort, pulled both Jiang Lian and Kuang Meiying up.
As soon as Jiang Lian touched ground, he immediately set Kuang Meiying down and stood up, looking in all directions. After searching several times, he finally spotted the small van’s headlights, like faint fireflies, appearing and disappearing among the dense trees below.
He only said, “Look after Meiying,” before rushing off at full speed.
Wei Biao, who was examining Kuang Meiying’s injuries, heard this and jumped up in anger: “Our people are in this state, and you’re still concerned about others!”
By the time he looked up, Jiang Lian was already like wind and lightning, disappearing after a few bounds.
(End of Volume Two)