SES Chapter 12 V2

When they got back, Huo Zihong sighed. “Mu Dai, you were strange today. Your mind seemed a thousand miles away. Did you remember a word I said?”

Auntie was trying to teach her something?

Huo Zihong sighed again and walked back into the bar. Mu Dai followed her in, and Uncle Zhang called over immediately, “Boss’s wife, someone left you a delivery.”

Mu Dai was surprised. “Me?”

“Uh-huh.” Uncle Zhang nodded toward a small box sitting on a nearby table. “It came by delivery.”

The feeling of opening a delivery is always exciting, although few people knew her address. Who could it be? Her master? Wan Fenghuo? Could it be… Cao Yanhua?

Mu Dai cut the tape with a key and opened it. Her expression fell immediately. After a moment, she turned the box over in disbelief. “Uncle Zhang… this isn’t a delivery.”

Uncle Zhang walked over, confused. “How come? Was it a bomb?”

He peered into the box and then removed a bag of strawberries.
They were large, rich red, and glimmering with drops of water.
“It’s nice. All girls love strawberries. Sweet, beautifying… isn’t it a wonderful gift?”

Thirteen poked his head in to check it out. “Someone’s sending strawberries anonymously, Small Boss! Seems you have a suitor.”

He clicked his tongue. “But honestly, it’s kind of… cheap. At least send flowers. If you start by sending strawberries, when you’re dating, you’ll be sending garlic and scallions…”

Mu Dai suddenly turned, snatched up the bag, and tossed it into the garbage in a flash, then walked away without another word.

Uncle Zhang and Thirteen remained stunned.

For a while, Thirteen kept staring at the strawberries. He cleared his throat. “Uncle… Small Boss… isn’t that kind of… waste?”

“It sure is.” Uncle Zhang nodded solemnly. “A pound of strawberries like this must be over twenty yuan.”

The two exchanged glances — a rare moment of understanding.

“It’d be a shame not to eat them.”

…

That evening, Mu Dai stole a moment to bring up her worries to Huo Zihong. Huo Zihong sighed, exasperated. “You’re nervous all day over this?”

Mu Dai insisted, “If we hadn’t gotten hard evidence, I’d be dialing the police already. Auntie, what if the person is an accomplice to a killer? It’s dangerous.”

Huo Zihong smiled. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I’m just investigating what happened back then. Professor Li was my teacher. Is it a crime for a student to care?”

Mu Dai suddenly remembered the photo in Li Tan’s wallet. The words “Are you just his student?” nearly crossed her lips, but she forced herself to stay silent.

Huo Zihong sighed. “I don’t know what you’re up to. Hypnosis portraits… It’s all confusing. If someone’s a bad person, I’m not afraid. There’s a legal system in this world, isn’t there?”

Mu Dai was exasperated. The “legal system”—this was not the issue at all.
Determined, Mu Dai decided she’d follow her path. Whatever danger fell upon Huo Zihong, Mu Dai would be there to protect her.

During the day, no matter how much Huo Zihong insisted, Mu Dai remained by her side; at night, she either stayed up or fell into a light, restless sleep. As a martial artist, a single strange rustling was enough to jolt her awake.

But her body was not made of iron. After days without proper rest, the dark circles beneath her eyes grew heavy. Thirteen asked in disbelief, “Small Boss… were you… A thief last night?”

Thief?

Mu Dai suddenly remembered Cao Yanhua. Usually, when he was up to something, he’d send messages frequently — photos from the liberation monument or the cable car — with a caption: “Feeling pretty good today.”

It seemed likely the theft was a success. But these past few days, it was strangely silent. Mu Dai texted him to check in, but it was like dropping a stone into a bottomless well — no response.

About midnight, Mu Dai came downstairs to check all the doors and windows. She pressed against each, making sure everything was locked. A rush of drowsiness washed over her; she yawned and glanced at her reflection in the glass — her eyes were red and spiderwebbed with tiny veins, making her look a bit like a rabbit.

Suddenly, a spark of rage rose within her.
If you’re going to come, come.
Don’t keep me guessing.
Don’t drag it out.

With a deep breath, Mu Dai tried to calm herself.
“One vigorous attack, then it weakens; a third, it fails”—this must be what the ancients meant.

Suddenly her phone rang. She glanced at the number — it was unknown — and answered casually, “Hello?”

Silence. Mu Dai paused, her stomach knotted. “Hello?”

A moment later, a rich, deep voice came through the phone — Luo Ren. Mu Dai felt her scalp prickle. She rushed toward the French window.

Outside—the path, the river, the rushes, the dimly glowing signs—the view seemed abandoned, yet teeming with hidden eyes.

He said quietly, “I’m not coming tonight. Get some rest. Prepare yourself… we’ll meet tomorrow.”