SES Chapter 136

Chapter 136

Cao Yanhua had written a letter to his hometown—a fact Yi Wansan had known for quite some time. Bit by bit, he’d also pieced together more details: apparently, Cao’s second cousin was getting married, so Cao sent a congratulatory letter along with six hundred yuan. It was originally five hundred, but since even numbers were considered luckier for weddings, he’d added another hundred before mailing it.

In the following days, while Cao Yanhua eagerly waited for a reply, Yi Wansan kept teasing him with gloomy predictions—maybe the letter got lost, maybe someone stole the money, and so on.

But against all odds, the letter arrived safely.

That outcome left Yi Wansan mildly annoyed, while Cao Yanhua sat down like a victor, crossed one leg over the other, and began to read.

The letter was short, written in messy handwriting. It began with an apology for Cao not being able to attend the wedding, confirmed that both the letter and the gift had been received, and expressed thanks for his thoughtful gesture.

At the end, there was an extra line: “Also, the Jin family sent over ten jin of pork.”

That last sentence made Cao’s expression twist in discomfort, his brows furrowing tightly. Just then, Yi Wansan leaned over.

Cao quickly assumed he was trying to sneak a look and clutched the letter to his chest defensively.

Yi Wansan shot him a side-eye. “Relax, with your virtue, I wouldn’t bother. I just saw something written on the back.”

“On the back?” Cao turned the letter over in surprise—and sure enough, there were a few scrawled lines squeezed into the corner, folded over when the letter was sealed, which was why he hadn’t noticed them before.

Those few lines left him completely stunned.

When Luo Ren found out about it, it was that same afternoon. The bar was quiet, a soft tune drifting through the air. Except for Yan Hongsha, who was still in Lijiang, everyone else was there.

Mu Dai was grinding coffee beans by hand, the wooden handle of the grinder turning slowly, filling the room with the warm aroma of cocoa that mingled with the music.

Yi Wansan was making himself a cup of coffee, doodling angry words in chocolate syrup across the foam:

— Outrageous! Shameful! Call the police! Kill! Kill! Kill!

Meanwhile, Cao Yanhua sat with his head down, face flushed red, and handed both the letter and the envelope to Luo Ren.

The hidden message read:
“Cousin, you’re from the city—please save me. I was kidnapped.”

The return address was still visible on the envelope. Luo Ren studied it, and Cao hurried to explain, “Strictly speaking, my hometown, Caojiatun, is near the border between Chongqing and Shaanxi, along the Daba Mountains—closer to Shaanxi.”

That explained a lot. Luo Ren had always felt Cao didn’t seem like a typical Chongqing native—he rarely used local slang or dialect.

Luo Ren set the letter and envelope on the bar. “So what’s your plan?”

Yi Wansan turned his cup around so the chocolate-scrawled words faced Luo Ren.

“What plan? We call the police!” he said sharply. “Get that girl rescued as soon as possible! Cao, your cousin doing something like this—doesn’t he have a conscience?”

Luo Ren looked at Mu Dai next.

She paused in her movements. “I agree we should report it, but…”

She pointed to the brief scrawl on the paper. “There’s no name, no detail—just one sentence. Will the police even take it seriously?”

Luo Ren hesitated.

She had a point. This wasn’t like a kidnapped woman secretly writing a long letter asking for help—those letters usually included her name, background, and enough detail for the police to verify her story through family. With that, they could contact local departments and coordinate a rescue.

But here, there was nothing but a single vague plea. No one could be sure if it was real or not.

Cao Yanhua mumbled, “My cousin isn’t that kind of person. He didn’t finish school, but he can read and write, and he knows right from wrong. He wouldn’t… do something illegal like that.”

His voice grew softer and softer, clearly lacking conviction.

Yi Wansan, however, remained firm. “Even if it might be real, we can’t just ignore it! That girl’s whole life could be at stake.”

Cao Yanhua was sweating now. “How about this? I’ll go back—right away. If it’s true, I’ll get her out myself. I’ll… talk to my cousin…”

He was rambling in panic.

Yi Wansan cut him off. “If she’s been assaulted, that’s not something you can fix with a ‘talk.’”

Mu Dai added, “Cao, what’s your village like? If you go back and they all take your cousin’s side, you might not even get out safely.”

In remote, conservative villages, people often closed ranks to protect their own. Even the police had to tread carefully in such places.

Cao was nearly in tears. “My village isn’t like that! The people there are good—really! They’re not ignorant or backward!”

Luo Ren thought for a moment. “All right. Then go. There are plenty of flights from Lijiang to Chongqing. Take the earliest one you can.”

Cao nodded quickly. “Tomorrow—by tomorrow morning at the latest, I’ll be home.”

“Can you call us once you get there?”

Cao hesitated.

There hadn’t been cell service in his village for years. His cousin once mentioned that a mudslide destroyed the only signal tower, and to make a phone call, people had to walk several miles to where there was still a working landline.

Luo Ren asked again, “You sure you can handle this on your own?”

“I… I think so. I can climb walls in three steps now.”

There was no time to waste. Cao rushed off to pack. Mu Dai felt uneasy—he seemed too naïve to handle something like this alone. She wanted to go with him but knew it wasn’t really her place.

Being a mentor, she thought grimly, was an exhausting job.

She turned to Luo Ren. “We’re really not calling the police?”

“It might come to that anyway,” Luo Ren said. “But for now, we don’t even know what’s going on. The police might not even respond—and even if they do, Cao might get there faster.”

Then Mu Dai had an idea.

“What about asking Wan Fenghuo?”

He had contacts all over the smaller towns—if they needed someone to check fast, his people would get there first.

Luo Ren nodded. “Good idea.”

Mu Dai started dialing but paused halfway through, frowned, and deleted the number.

From a purely financial standpoint… maybe the psychic should be the one making that call.

Yi Wansan went to Cao’s room, intending to help him pack. He expected chaos—clothes and luggage everywhere.

Instead, Cao was sitting on the lower bunk, suitcase open at his feet, staring blankly at a toothbrush in his hand.

In a moment like this, he was daydreaming. Yi Wansan scowled and kicked his leg. “Cao! Move it!”

Cao looked up nervously. “Brother San… do you think this could be… a trap?”

“What?” Yi Wansan blinked.

Cao said, “What if my family made this up—just to trick me into going back?”

Yi Wansan stared at him. “Wait… did you run away from home?”

Over the years, he’d met plenty of runaways. Some were kicked out, some fled trouble, and some just wanted to see the world.

Cao’s round face flushed pink before he finally muttered, “Yeah.”

That surprised Yi Wansan. “How long?”

“Seven, maybe eight years.”

“Did you kill someone? Burn something down? Leave a man crippled for life?”

Cao stammered for a long time before saying, “Brother San, I’ll tell you—but you can’t tell anyone else.”

“Of course. You can trust me.”

So Cao told him everything.

When he finished, Yi Wansan’s expression was grave. “Look, your family may be trying to lure you back. But if that girl really was trafficked, you still have to go. Once you’re there, just… keep your eyes open.”

Cao let out a long sigh.

When he left, carrying his hastily packed bag, he warned, “Please—don’t tell anyone about this.”

Yi Wansan solemnly promised, “Of course. You can trust me.”

That evening, before night fully fell, everyone—including Uncle Zhang—already knew the following:

—Cao Yanhua hadn’t been home in eight years, though he sent money and letters regularly.
—He was close only to his second cousin, who was the one person with his phone number.
—At age eight, his father arranged a child marriage for him with a girl from the same village, also surnamed Cao, named Cao Jinhua, three years younger than him.
—By twelve, Jinhua was taller than him, and she stayed taller ever since—and heavier, too.
—To rebel against the arranged marriage, Cao once climbed onto his roof, banging a gong to declare he would never go through with it. His father and some men dragged him down within minutes.
—Finally, one stormy night, he ran away from Caojiatun. Before leaving, he slipped a letter under Jinhua’s door—a formal, respectful note declaring their engagement null and encouraging her to pursue her own happiness.

…

After many twists and turns, Cao eventually settled in Chongqing, gathered a small band of misfits, developed a love for spicy hotpot and bean curd fish, occasionally read books to improve himself, and at last became… Master Cao of Jiefangbei.