SES Chapter 25 V1

Chapter 25

The lamb leg was prepared authentically. Both sides were scored with crosshatch cuts. After being cleaned, it was simmered in a broth of dozens of spices for over two hours, then marinated in a rich soup for an entire day. Only after that was it removed, coated evenly with salt, cumin powder, and rosemary, sealed in a vacuum bag, and sold.

Uncle Zheng was a master at roasting lamb. He didn’t rely on any modern equipment. He set up a wooden rack over a fire pit, brushed the leg with honey water, and roasted it directly over the flames. Before long, the meat was sizzling with oil, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.

Mu Dai watched without blinking. “Don’t let it burn, Uncle Zheng. Should we flip it now?”

Uncle Zheng chuckled, slicing green onions and julienned cucumber at a nearby table, then instructed, “Flip it.”

Mu Dai grinned like a kid, gripping the iron skewer handle and flipping the leg over. “Uncle Zheng, wouldn’t it be awesome if we lived in ancient times? We could travel the land just roasting lamb legs—you do the roasting, I do the flipping. In our spare time, we could fight injustice too!”

Uncle Zheng liked this imaginative girl. Luo Ren had said she’d been pretty fierce the first time they met—not that he saw it. She didn’t seem fierce at all to him.

The first leg was done. Mu Dai’s eyes sparkled. “Can I just hold it and gnaw on it?”

She was practically drooling already. She didn’t even mind getting oil all over her hands and face.

But apparently, that wasn’t how it was eaten.

Uncle Zheng skillfully carved the lamb into thin, bite-sized strips. Each small plate got a portion, sprinkled with chili powder, cumin, and salt, then topped with green onions and cucumber, and served with a little silver fork. The first plate was handed to Mu Dai.

“Try it.”

It was divine. Mu Dai took it in both hands with reverence. “This is way too elegant for lamb.”

Uncle Zheng smiled. “Of course. Ping Ting loves it but finds gnawing on bones troublesome. So Luo Ren asked me to prepare it like this for her.”

Oh. Mu Dai didn’t say anything, but instinctively looked around. Luo Ren wasn’t there. He must have gone inside to be with Ping Ting.

“She… she’ll get better, right? Luo Ren could take her to a hospital in Beijing or Shanghai,” she said.

Uncle Zheng sighed. “It’s not that he hasn’t tried… but it’s not a physical problem.”

His voice faded off. He shook his head and kept plating more lamb.

Mu Dai didn’t press further. She quietly picked up another plate and walked over to Li Tan, who was sitting alone on the steps. He saw her but didn’t say anything.

Mu Dai felt a little guilty and nudged the plate toward him. “Try it. It’s really good.”

Li Tan still didn’t respond. Well, she couldn’t blame him. After all, it was her “Aunt Hong.”

She stood up, planning to take her plate somewhere else, when Li Tan suddenly asked, “Did your Aunt Hong… ever mention me?”

How was she supposed to answer that? With a kind lie? Or the painful truth?

When Mu Dai didn’t respond, Li Tan gave a small, bitter smile. “Got it.”

He didn’t need an answer. Just asking made the reality even clearer.

Mu Dai felt her chest tighten and tried to shift the subject. “Luo Ren said Uncle Zheng took you to the hospital. Everything okay?”

“When you get old, your body’s like a beat-up car—there’s always something wrong,” Li Tan sighed, patting his knee. “Didn’t take care of myself when I was younger. Ate irregularly, stayed up all night. Now my body’s complaining.”

It was strange. He’d never thought of himself as old before, even though he was. He had always been full of energy, determined to find the truth. But the moment Luo Ren handed him the phone and said someone wanted to talk to him…

And he heard Li Yaqing’s voice say, “I’m sorry”… the strength in his body just drained away.

He gave a bitter smile. “It’s fine. I did it willingly.”

No one forced him. He made his own choice.

Now, looking back, it all felt like that old saying: “Like birds scattering after eating all the grain—what’s left is a bleak emptiness.” The pain, the struggle, the pursuit—now it was all just… hollow.

Li Tan smiled faintly. “I’m heading back tomorrow. Luo Ren says there’s still something odd going on, but I don’t have the strength to keep digging. You all keep at it. If anything comes up, give me a call.”

He struggled to his feet, rubbing his aching back. The plate of lamb Mu Dai had brought him remained untouched.

Even if he said he’d let go, in his heart, he still couldn’t accept any kindness connected to Huo Zihong.

Mu Dai stood there for a while, took a bite of her lamb, but with her mood so low, it tasted like nothing at all.

She glanced sideways…

Among all of them, only Yi Wansan could still eat with such gusto, completely content and devouring the food like a wolf.

That night, everything seemed normal—until the middle of the night, when Mu Dai woke up.

Damn, it was dry here. The air felt like it had zero moisture. Her throat was parched, her lips cracked and peeling.

There wasn’t even a kettle in the room. She went looking in the living room. Of course—just her luck—the water dispenser sputtered out half a cup and then ran dry.

No kettle, seriously? She rushed to Luo Ren’s door and nearly knocked—then hesitated.

It was late. Everyone was probably asleep.

But what was she supposed to do? Suffer through the night?

Just as she stood there, torn, the door opened.

Luo Ren plugged in the electric kettle. As the familiar sound of water heating filled the room, Mu Dai finally relaxed. She pulled on a coat and sat on the sofa, waiting for the water to boil, eyes drifting to one of the walls in his room.

It was like something out of a movie—full of posted notes, photos, and diagrams. The same case board she’d seen in the old city noodle shop. But now, where the question marks used to be, “Zhang Guanghua” had been written. A line from his name led to another name: “Hangu Pass.”

“Hangu Pass” was circled in red ink, with a big question mark beside it.

Another line extended from Luo Wenmiao’s name to “Ping Ting”—also marked with a question mark.

Something about it made Mu Dai’s heart ache a little.

Luo Ren walked over with a cup of tea, some bitter lotus seeds in it. “It’s a lot drier than the south. Most first-timers have a hard time adjusting.”