Meng Jinsong had come to tell her about this matter.
Last night, shortly after going to bed, he had received a call from Old Ga saying that Jiang Lian had rescued a woman from the back mountain. This woman had been attacked by a mysterious person, then assaulted by Ma Biaozi. Her injuries were severe and required professional medical treatment.
Since it was too late to disturb Meng Qianzi, Meng Jinsong made arrangements himself: he sent a car to Ba Hang Village to pick her up, summoned people with medical backgrounds from Gui Mountain Retreat, brought necessary equipment over, and temporarily set up a medical room at Cloud Dream Peak. After the injured woman arrived, they were extremely busy. By the time they had nearly finished, it was already this hour.
Meng Qianzi’s mind stirred: “You suspect that mysterious person is connected to Liu Sheng’s matter?”
Meng Jinsong nodded; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so attentive: Liu Sheng was killed, and the murderer escaped through the back mountain. Right afterward, that woman was injured by a mysterious person on the same back mountain—such a thing seemed too far-fetched to be a coincidence.
“How badly is the woman injured?”
“Covered in blood, looked frightening, but the doctor said it’s not serious. After getting stitches and medication, she woke up once and is now sleeping again.” At this point, Meng Jinsong lowered his voice. “When the woman was awake, I asked her personally, and she said she saw the person’s face.”
The good news came too suddenly. Meng Qianzi felt no joy, only growing suspicion: “Did you send someone to investigate where this woman was found?”
No, Meng Jinsong pointed outside the window: “It wouldn’t help anyway. It rained heavily in the latter half of last night. Whether blood stains or footprints, after such a downpour, they would have little reference value.”
“Ma Biaozi, is that the beast that even tigers fear?”
“Yes.”
“Ma Biaozi have nearly disappeared in recent years and rarely leave their caves. How would one appear so close to the village? Moreover, such beasts rarely attack humans.”
Meng Jinsong shrugged, indicating he couldn’t answer: he wasn’t an expert on Ma Biaozi, how could he know what was in its mind?
“And if that mysterious person is the killer who could finish Liu Sheng with one knife, why would this woman only suffer ‘not serious’ light injuries? And she even encountered Ma Biaozi—beasts that tear out intestines and eat internal organs—yet they were so polite to her?”
Meng Jinsong had anticipated this question: “We got lucky. An ordinary woman would have stood no chance… but this woman was at your banquet yesterday. Her name is Bai Shuixiao, a Fallen Flower Cave Woman.”
Meng Qianzi was silent for a while before finally murmuring: “That explains it.”
Fallen Flower Cave Women, along with Gu Poison and Corpse Driving, were known as the “Three Evils of Xiangxi.”
Xiangxi was a place described as “nine parts mountains, half part water, half part fields,” indicating its mountainous terrain. With many mountains came many caves. The ethnic minorities living there had deeply rooted supernatural beliefs since ancient times, believing that all things had spirits and nothing was without strangeness: there were tree spirits, flower spirits, and naturally cave spirits too.
Young, beautiful, unmarried women could not casually approach mountain caves. When beautiful brides were being transported in bridal sedans, firecrackers were forbidden when passing cave entrances—if the cave spirit was disturbed and took a liking to the bride, capturing her soul, she would become insane, foolish, and absent-minded, meaning she had “fallen into the cave.”
When this happened, parents would be extremely anxious and invite Miao shamans to the cave to “call the soul back,” but most times they couldn’t retrieve it—who dared defy a god’s will?
Women chosen by cave spirits were generally not sought after by men. Of course, a woman who could marry a god naturally looked down on ordinary men and waited wholeheartedly for the cave spirit to come and take her as bride.
It was said that after falling into the cave, Fallen Flower Cave Women would become increasingly introverted and quiet, loving cleanliness and grooming themselves, gradually developing an otherworldly quality. Their eyes would become clearer, their faces often wearing gentle smiles, and their bodies emitting a strange, faint fragrance. They felt immersed in the happiness of being in love with the cave spirit and didn’t even want to look at other men. Fallen Flower Cave Women would die within three to five years after falling into the cave, but this wasn’t considered “death”—rather, they were taken away by the cave spirit as brides. Parents couldn’t grieve but should happily prepare abundant dowries to burn at the cave entrance, blessing the couple with a hundred years of conjugal happiness.
Shen Congwen wrote about fallen cave women in his book, saying “Xiangxi women in three age stages are prone to becoming poison women, witches, and fallen cave women—the poor and elderly easily become poison women; those around thirty easily become witches; those between sixteen and twenty-two or twenty-three, beautiful with introverted personalities and unsuccessful marriages, easily fall into caves and die.” He further analyzed that fallen women were a social tragedy of women in old times, being extremely repressed sexually. Those delirious women, tormented by love and depressed inside, could only use the excuse of being chosen by cave spirits to escape reality’s shackles through death.
More people believed that the Fallen Flower Cave Women were a Xiangxi superstition, similar to ancient sacrifices of virgin boys and girls to river gods, sacrificing those poor mountain girls to worship imaginary cave spirits.
What was the truth? Outsiders couldn’t know. Meng Qianzi frequently entered mountain caves but had never been favored by any cave spirit. Perhaps cave spirits only dwelled in Xiangxi, or perhaps her appearance wasn’t to their liking.
Meng Qianzi was lost in thought before remembering Jiang Lian again: “That Jiang Lian…”
“He came with the car, saying he was worried about his friend and wanted to visit. I didn’t dare make the decision myself, so I came to ask your opinion.” Meng Jinsong gauged her expression. “You don’t need to be too particular—this matter with Bai Shuixiao, we have him to thank…”
His tone suggested she might be petty. Meng Qianzi snorted coldly: “Let him see her. Reward for merit, punishment for fault, each matter is separate. I’m clear about that.”
After a pause, she couldn’t help but boast: “If I hadn’t pressured him, would he have worked so hard?”
Detaining people was a bit tyrannical, but some people in this world were like donkeys—they wouldn’t move without a whip.
Kuang Meiying and Wei Biao shared a room, reportedly at their request to look after each other. Modern young men and women, especially those who had known each other since childhood, weren’t so rigid—one slept on the bed, the other made a pallet on the floor.
Kuang Meiying’s spirits were fine, but Wei Biao was listless. Before entering the room, Liu Guanguo had already warned Jiang Lian: last night, after Wei Biao woke up, he had been raging and howling. Annoyed, Liu Guanguo had given him some medicine.
Jiang Lian wasn’t angry at all: letting Wei Biao suffer a bit was good. This way, he would understand that when under others’ control, no matter how physically strong or how loudly he could shout, it was useless. Even a tiger’s roar could make the valley winds fierce and summon clouds from all directions, but what use was that when caught by hunters?
He smiled as he sat down in the chair opposite the sofa.
Wei Biao lounged crookedly on the sofa, his face waxy yellow, yet his domineering air remained strong: “Who are these people anyway? Bringing us here, what’s the meaning?”
Jiang Lian glanced at the door: it was open, with two guards standing outside, but at this distance, they shouldn’t be able to hear clearly if they spoke softly.
He said, “What does it matter? Mountain area gangsters. Look how they beat me up. Fortunately, it was a misunderstanding, all cleared up now.”
Wei Biao lifted his eyelids: “So we can leave?”
Jiang Lian smiled: “Why are you so eager to leave? Isn’t this nice? Beautiful scenery, food, drink, and lodging—just like a vacation. If you find it cramped, ask for another room. It’s all free anyway.”
He asked Kuang Meiying: “Is the food good?”
Kuang Meiying nodded: “They’re quite polite, they bring menus for you to order from.”
Jiang Lian made an affirming sound, offering guidance: “Order the expensive items.”
Kuang Meiying wanted to laugh but couldn’t: “What about you? Are you okay?”
Jiang Lian said, “What could be wrong with me? I’m just running errands for them…”
Wei Biao let out a cold snort like air blasting from a bull’s nostrils. Jiang Lian felt somewhat impressed: for him to snort with such force, Liu Guanguo’s medicine must have been quite restrained.
He looked around the room: “You’re doing well here. The accommodation is much better than at Old Ga’s place—that broken water heater never worked properly… and it’s safe. I see more than thirty guards upstairs and downstairs. So, Brother Biao, since we’re here, we might as well make the best of it. It’s not too late to leave in a few days.”
Wei Biao let out another cold laugh, mostly out of defiance. Jiang Lian instructed Kuang Meiying: “Keep an eye on him.”
Kuang Meiying nodded, glanced at the door, suddenly leaned closer to him, and spoke quickly in a low voice: “Jiang Lian, tell me the truth. When they ask you to do things, do you just do them obediently? Are you planning to sabotage them secretly?”
Jiang Lian looked up at her: “Who said that? Since Master Gan taught me that honorable people don’t do things in the dark, I now sabotage openly to their face.”
Kuang Meiying stamped her foot in frustration: “I’m serious!”