SES Chapter 139 Part 2

But when Seventh Aunt mentioned she was “a guest from Beijing,” Yafeng’s eyes suddenly brightened — just for an instant.

Even then, she didn’t speak. Every time Mu Dai asked a question, the girl would first glance nervously at Seventh Aunt. Only when the older woman smiled and repeated the question would Yafeng whisper a timid “yes” or “mm.”

A few minutes later, Seventh Aunt said cheerfully, “Alright, you’ve seen her. Time to go.”

That was the custom, after all — brides weren’t supposed to meet outsiders before the wedding.

Mu Dai followed her out. But just as they reached the door, she turned — a small, instinctive glance.

Yafeng was staring right at her.

And in that brief moment, Mu Dai saw her roll up her sleeve.

Across her pale arm — bruises. Purplish-red welts, one after another, like whip marks.

Mu Dai’s mind buzzed, but her expression didn’t change. She walked out calmly.

The sun was setting. The air between the mountains darkened, a curtain of dusk rising like a stage backdrop.

Seventh Aunt frowned apologetically. “Yafeng’s not usually like that. We told her it’s bad luck to meet outsiders before the wedding, so maybe she got nervous.”

Mu Dai smiled faintly. “My fault. I shouldn’t have insisted on seeing her.”

“You city girls are so polite,” Seventh Aunt said with a laugh.

That night, Mu Dai and Yi Wan San stayed in Qingshan’s guest room — two small adjoining spaces divided by a curtain.

Neither could sleep. The image of Yafeng’s bruised arms refused to leave Mu Dai’s mind. What she’d seen overturned everything — maybe the rumors about trafficking weren’t rumors after all.

Around eleven, the village dogs barked, then went silent.

Mu Dai lifted the curtain and peeked outside — pitch black.

She slipped on her boots, stuffed her phone into her pocket, and grabbed a small flashlight from her bag.

As she stepped out, Yi Wan San poked his head from under the blanket. “You’re really going?”

“I promised Luo Ren I’d call every night.”

Before coming here, she’d spoken with Luo Ren. He’d worried about the lack of cell signal in this area. If something went wrong, there’d be no way to reach her. Mu Dai had said, “It’s just this village. If I go far enough, I’ll get a signal. If you don’t hear from me one night, that means something’s wrong.”

Yi Wan San frowned. “It’s ten, twenty miles out there.”

“I’ll treat it as training,” she said lightly. “My master used to make me run farther every day.”

He grunted, impressed. “Respect.”

He burrowed back into his blanket. “Anyway, I’m not going. I’m slow, I’m scared of the dark, and I don’t know kung fu.”

Mu Dai snickered. “There’s a ghost in here, you know.”

He muttered something about “poisonous women” as she walked out, boots clicking on the stone floor.

The mountain night was truly dark — but the stars above were bright enough to make up for it.

Mu Dai ran through the narrow village paths, wind tugging at her hair.

Her master would have scolded her, then smiled and said, Mu Dai, you’re a little wild thing.

She climbed the hillside, taking the shortcut she’d confirmed with Qingshan earlier. It wasn’t nearly as far as she’d told Yi Wan San.

The ground was unstable — landslides and loose rocks everywhere. But she was light on her feet, quick and sure, almost gliding.

Her master would have been proud.

She reached the ridge, looked down — the valley below was veiled in a faint mist, like breath rising from the earth.

“Who are you?” she called softly into the darkness. Then, to herself, “I’m Mu Dai.”

Her voice echoed only faintly.

She brushed her palms, ready to move on — when a fluttering noise caught her ear.

Flapping. Dozens of wings.

Bats.

She lifted her flashlight and traced the sound to the upper cliffs.

From that direction — where the bats poured out — came another sound.

A muffled thud. A faint, struggling cry.

Mu Dai’s pulse quickened. She adjusted the beam of light until it landed on the source.

That was where the bats had flown from.