SES Chapter 144 Part 1

Chapter 144

Luo Ren’s heart tightened.

He pressed, “Do you know where they are?”

Ya Feng didn’t dare to speak. Her lips trembled as she kept backing away, glancing nervously toward the window where Aunt Qi sat outside. She only repeated over and over, “You should go. Don’t stay here—please, just go.”

Luo Ren looked straight into her eyes, gently taking her hand while raising a finger to his lips.

He’d rescued hostages before—he knew how to calm people on the verge of panic or hysteria. They weren’t unwilling to talk; they were just too frightened.

Softly, he said, “Look at me. Look into my eyes.”

Ya Feng whispered, “If they find out I told you, they’ll kill me.”

Luo Ren spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “I’ll come back and get you out. No one will know it was you.”

Ya Feng stared at him for a long moment before she began to calm down. Finally, she whispered two words: “On the mountain.”

The mountain? They were surrounded by mountains.

“Which one?”

Ya Feng hesitated, bit her lip, then pointed timidly toward one in the distance.

It was a tall peak with a flat top, as if someone had sliced the summit clean off—a shape easy to recognize.

Luo Ren smiled faintly. “Good girl.”

Then he added softly, “Remember, I was never here. You never saw me. I’ll come back for you.”

He backed toward the door, never breaking eye contact, smiling gently before slipping out and closing it behind him.

Aunt Qi still sat by the doorway, threading her needle, occasionally looking up at the sounds of men shouting cheerfully from the drying yard.

The mountain.

Luo Ren ran hard up the path. There were several makeshift huts on the slopes—shelters the villagers used when caught in the rain. If they were on the mountain, they were either in one of those or in a cave.

He searched the entire area, checking every hut one by one—wet, muddy, no signs of people.

But no cave.

Caves, he knew, came in two kinds: natural or man-made. The latter required manpower and tools, common in mines or wartime bunkers. This village had neither.

Natural caves, though—some were open and visible, others hidden, narrow at the entrance but deep within—a dark, natural labyrinth.

Could the cave Ya Feng meant be buried deep inside the mountain?

He steadied his breathing and searched for any sign of an entrance. Finally, he spotted what looked like a curtain of rocks concealing a narrow opening.

He didn’t rush in. Pressing an ear to the stone wall, he listened for a long time. Nothing. No talking, no footsteps—either no one was there, or the guards were asleep.

He held his breath, drew his knife, and stepped carefully inside.

The cave was bigger than expected. Dim, but not completely dark.

Someone was huddled in a corner—

Cao Yanhua?

He looked like he was asleep—or dead. His head drooped forward, motionless. Luo Ren didn’t move closer. He picked up two small stones and flicked one hard at Cao Yanhua’s shoulder.

Cao Yanhua jerked awake in pain. His eyes blinked dully before focusing—and then widened in shock and joy.

If not for the cloth stuffed in his mouth, he probably would have shouted.

Luo Ren smiled faintly and started toward him—

When a scream echoed from outside. Ya Feng’s voice.

Luo Ren cursed inwardly and spun around. Torchlight flickered at the cave’s mouth. Shadows stretched long across the ground.

Ya Feng stumbled in first, tear-streaked and terrified—and behind her was…

Luo Ren’s heart sank.

Qingshan.

Gone was the harmless, simple villager. His massive hand clamped around Ya Feng’s neck, the other gripping a sickle, its blade pressed against her throat. The movement of his arm had already drawn a thin line of blood.

Luo Ren slid his knife behind his back, hiding it at his waist. He subtly shifted his sleeve so that the second stone rested between his wrist and cuff.

Then he lifted both hands slowly. “Let’s talk this out.”

He nodded toward Ya Feng. “She’s got nothing to do with this. Don’t scare her.”

Behind him, Cao Yanhua struggled, slamming his head against his knees, trying to break free. Luo Ren imagined this wasn’t the first time Qingshan had caught him like that—grinding his teeth in rage.

Qingshan’s face twisted. “I told you to leave. You didn’t.”

“Yes,” Luo Ren said calmly. “But I couldn’t go—not when my friends are missing. Wouldn’t that be ungrateful?”

He smiled lightly. “But I get it now. If I leave now, will that still be okay?”

On the last word, his arm flicked down.

The hidden stone shot from his sleeve, slicing the air before striking Qingshan’s hand with a hard crack. Qingshan cried out, the sickle jerking aside.

Ya Feng stumbled free and bolted toward Luo Ren, but Qingshan kicked her hard in the back of the knee. She fell forward, right into Luo Ren’s arms.

Luo Ren was ready—he rolled with her, pulling his knife free.

For Cao Yanhua’s sake, he didn’t plan to kill Qingshan—but he’d at least take a hand or a leg.

He reached for the hilt—

And suddenly, the ground gave way beneath him.

The earth vanished, and Luo Ren dropped.

In the darkness below, Mu Dai had tried countless ways to separate a version of herself that didn’t feel pain.

Why couldn’t she?

Dr. He had told her about patients with multiple personalities—some had over twenty. Their disorder made them chaotic and unstable, but what if they could control it? Wouldn’t that be like having twenty helpers?

She steadied her breathing. “Come on,” she whispered. “One of you who doesn’t feel pain—come out.”

Nothing.

She tried to hypnotize herself. “Right now, you are the one who can’t feel pain.”

Still nothing. Her hand scraped the wall, and the sharp sting made her flinch.

Just a fingernail. Just a leg. So what?

Frustration burned in her chest. Like a trapped beast, she circled restlessly. Time blurred—no day, no night, no sense of how long she’d been there.

Finally, she muttered, “To hell with it. I’m getting out.”

She approached the rock wall and gripped a protrusion with her left hand.

Pain had form—it was visible. The tendon stood out on her finger; the skin on her knuckle trembled.

Mu Dai didn’t let go. “Does it hurt? Fine. It can hurt more.”

She gritted her teeth and pulled harder. Her whole arm trembled; sweat slicked her forehead. Tears spilled from her eyes.

“It didn’t kill me,” she panted. “So what’s the worst it can do?”

She forced more strength into her arm. Blood seeped through her bandage. The pain was still there—but bearable now.

She looked up. The cave ceiling—twenty, maybe thirty meters. It would be slow, but she could climb it.

She tightened her belt, flexed her wrists, and checked her water bottle. Empty.

Fine. She licked moisture off the stone wall, then took a deep breath.

And began to climb.

The pain was relentless. She cursed herself, cursed her hand and her leg, spitting out words she’d never said before.

“You useless brat, pull yourself together—or I’ll rip you off and leave you here.”