SES Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Mu Dai was half-asleep when she heard three light taps behind her head.

It sounded exactly like how Aunt Hong used to wake her up—soft, gentle knocks at the head of the bed, never too forceful or loud.

Mu Dai pulled the blanket over her head, shrinking further into the covers. One hand reached out automatically to feel around.

Usually, she’d grab Aunt Hong’s wrist like a spoiled child and plead from under the blanket, “Five more minutes, Auntie Hong. Just five.”

So…

On the other side of the glass window, Luo Ren stared expressionlessly as her hand searched the glass surface. What was that supposed to mean?

Mu Dai froze. The glass… felt cold.

Her heart skipped a beat. She snapped fully awake—this wasn’t her bedroom. She had fallen asleep in the bar.

She sat up with a jolt.

The bar was dim, still far from dawn. The reflection of a figure stood on the tabletop, looming above her.

Tap tap tap. The same sound again.

Mu Dai had a good guess who it was. She hesitated, then turned her head.

Luo Ren was leaning against the glass, forehead resting on his arm. His other hand held up a phone, screen facing her. Two words glowed on the screen:

Talk?

Talk? With you?

Like you weren’t the one who had a knife to her throat last night?

Everything about her reaction played out exactly as Luo Ren had expected. He didn’t rush her, just stood there holding the phone until the screen dimmed.

She’d open the door—if she cared at all about what he had said, if she harbored any doubts about Aunt Hong, if she remembered he had let her go that night without harming her.

She should open the door.

Eventually, she did.

The door cracked open just enough to show half of her face.

Luo Ren didn’t move forward. He understood that moving too fast would ruin everything. After the tense standoff the previous night, rebuilding trust was a delicate process. This was testing the waters—both sides needed to tread lightly.

Mu Dai held a metal skewer she had grabbed while passing the table. The door opened at an angle she had thought out carefully. If Luo Ren tried to force his way in, she could vault up the wall, use the momentum to drop down, and strike him right at the Fengchi acupoint behind the neck.

No, that would be too brutal. The Fengchi was one of the body’s critical points—if she hit it too hard, she might kill or cripple him.

Maybe just knock him out and tie him up afterward.

But… he hadn’t tried to force his way in. Technically, he had spared her life last night.

A flurry of thoughts ran through her head. She finally said, hesitantly, “Then… I pick the time and place.”

She set the meeting for the next day at noon, location to be sent via text half an hour beforehand.

And of course, the place she chose—just as he’d predicted—wasn’t exactly imaginative.

A noodle shop is across the street from the scenic district police station. Surveillance cameras on both ends of the street, and it was lunchtime. The place was packed, with a few uniformed officers among the crowd.

By the time Luo Ren arrived, Mu Dai was already seated at a prime table. The place was cramped, tables elbow to elbow. It took him some effort to squeeze in.

They ordered first, two bowls of beef noodles. When the food arrived, they added vinegar, chili sauce, ripped open disposable chopsticks, and got to work. To anyone watching, they looked like longtime acquaintances.

Mu Dai picked up a bite of noodles. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“I have a good impression of you,” Luo Ren said.

The noodles paused mid-air. Luo Ren didn’t elaborate.

“Let’s eat first.”

Eat first? How was she supposed to eat after that?

What was that supposed to mean—you have a good impression of me?

But Luo Ren just focused on eating. Fast too. A few bites and he was done. He wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“Nothing to drink here. What do you want? Green tea? Orange juice? Wait here, I’ll grab something.”

He left.

Mu Dai couldn’t eat. Her chopsticks stirred the noodles aimlessly, about to turn them into a lumpy mess.

After a while, Luo Ren came back and handed her a bottle of orange juice.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. What I meant was, you’re… fundamentally a decent person.”

He meant that sincerely.

They’d had several run-ins by now. Sure, Mu Dai lacked experience and sometimes acted rashly, but Luo Ren didn’t mind. Everyone starts as a blank slate—no one’s born flawless.

He appreciated two things most about her.

First, she was skilled. And he had noticed during their fights—she didn’t go for crippling or dirty moves. That restraint, for someone trained in martial arts, was rare and admirable.

Second, her personality was straightforward. Proud when confident, dejected when beaten, her emotions clear as day. She cried when scared. Interacting with her wasn’t exhausting. He hated the kind of person who smiled on the surface but plotted filth beneath the skin.

And she was reasonable—at least thoughtful. Last night had been a test. If she had flown into a rage and tried to kill him, there’d be no point in “talking.”

Mu Dai, on guard, couldn’t take it anymore.

“You said you wanted to talk. About what exactly?”

“Huo Zihong.”

Mu Dai pushed the juice back to him, her expression closed.

“No matter what, I won’t betray Aunt Hong.”

“If Aunt Hong is innocent but under suspicion, shouldn’t you do everything to find the truth? And if she’s guilty, would you cover for her just because she raised you?”

Mu Dai was silent, then muttered, not entirely convinced, “Aunt Hong is innocent.”

Even if she wasn’t completely innocent, it wasn’t like she was some evil warlord.

The lunch crowd had mostly cleared, leaving them a quiet space to talk.

Mu Dai suddenly said, “I know you suspect Aunt Hong is Li Yaqing. But even if that’s true, her concern about the Luoma Lake case is reasonable. What about you? Why are you so involved? Did you meet Li Tan in Xiaoshanghe?”

That caught Luo Ren off guard. His expression shifted several times in an instant.

Mu Dai saw it all. “You know who I am. You know, Aunt Hong raised me. You know she’s connected to Luoma Lake. But I don’t even know why you’re so fixated on the case. If we’re going to talk, it has to be mutual. I’m not about to bare everything while you hide your cards.”

That landed hard. Mu Dai felt triumphant.

“If you won’t explain—”

Before she could finish, something gold flashed. Luo Ren pulled a fine chain from around his neck and tossed it to her.

Mu Dai instinctively caught it. It was surprisingly heavy. At the end of the chain hung a small golden picture frame.

Inside the frame was a photo of a young woman with long hair, face turned slightly, features delicate. The engraving on the back read: Pingting.

“Your girlfriend?”

“My cousin. Luo Pingting.”

“My uncle is Luo Wenmiao. He’s a historian, specializing in the Liao, Western Xia, and Song dynasties. A few years ago, he moved to Xiaoshanghe in Ningxia to focus on his research. It’s quiet there, and that region was historically part of Western Xia territory. Good for fieldwork.

“My aunt passed away early. My uncle raised Pingting on his own, with only Uncle Zheng to help with daily life. I’m close to them. I’d visit often.

“About two years ago, one night, Pingting called me. She sounded panicked, said something was wrong with Uncle.

“She couldn’t explain clearly, but I knew something was off, so I rushed over. But I was already too late. Pingting told me he’d been missing for two days.

“I calmed her down and said we should call the police. Just as I was about to make some calls, my uncle returned.

“When we asked where he’d gone, he said: ‘Luoma Lake.’

“That was the first time I heard the name. I looked it up—somewhere in Hebei. Not famous. But since Uncle often traveled for research, I didn’t think much of it.

“That night I stayed over. In the middle of the night, I saw his study light still on. I went in to tell him to rest.

“He seemed like he didn’t want to talk, hunched over a rubbing of Western Xia script with a magnifying glass. I tried again—and that’s when it happened.”

Mu Dai, captivated, suddenly felt a chill and instinctively pulled back, her chair creaking loudly beneath her.

Luo Ren looked at her. “Can you picture it? Someone engrossed in work, then suddenly—without warning—looks up. His expression… changed. Like he became someone else in an instant.”

Mu Dai didn’t know what to say. “And… then?”

“Then he said something to me.”

Mu Dai’s back was slick with cold sweat. “Wh-what did he say?”

“He said, ‘Luo Ren, don’t make me kill someone.’”