SES Chapter 157

Chapter 157

“What… what do you mean?”

Cao Yanhua’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly before panic finally set in. “I—I’m not…!”

Flustered, thinking Luo Ren was accusing him of something, he turned pleadingly to Mu Dai for help. “Little Master, I’m really not a bad person! I’m the same inside and out—I swear!”

Luo Ren said calmly, “I’m not accusing you. I’m just saying… some things might be inborn. You might not even be able to control them.”

He simply suspected that if this really was about some kind of “bloodline inheritance,” then someone else from the same Cao family village—like Cao Yanhua—might carry similar secrets. Maybe that’s why Ya Feng couldn’t bring herself to harm him.

But to Cao Yanhua, that kind of “comfort” only made things worse. His heart was shattered into pieces.

He went off to look for sympathy from Yan Hongsha and Mu Dai.

“Hongsha, you’ve got to believe me,” he said miserably. “I’m not a bad person! How could I possibly be anything like Qingshan?”

Yan Hongsha clapped him on the shoulder. “I believe you, Fatty Cao. Luo Ren’s just being paranoid—ignore him.”

Then he went to Mu Dai, who suddenly felt more like family than ever. For the first time, he understood what the word Master really meant—it wasn’t just a title, but someone you could rely on, cry to, and find comfort in.

“Little Master…” His voice cracked with emotion. How could his Brother Luo doubt him of all people? He didn’t suspect anyone else—just him. How humiliating!

Mu Dai comforted him gently. “He’s just guessing. Don’t take it to heart. If you’re that upset, just hit him a couple times and get it out of your system.”

Cao Yanhua made a face. “I can’t beat him.”

“Then wait until he’s not paying attention—then hit him.”

Luo Ren, listening nearby, couldn’t help but laugh and sigh, rubbing his forehead helplessly. He hadn’t realized Cao Yanhua’s heart was as fragile as glass. Clearly, he needed to choose his words more carefully.

For now, though, the priority was finding Wan San. But everyone was in rough shape—especially Mu Dai, whose clothes were little more than tatters after days in that pit, soaked and muddied beyond recognition. Luo Ren decided they needed to drive out and find somewhere to rest and clean up first.

When they got into the car, Mu Dai, as usual, took the passenger seat. Yan Hongsha opened the back door, then paused, looking uncertainly at Luo Ren. “What about… her?”

Right. What about Ya Feng? The “bride” from that cursed wedding. They couldn’t just let her go—that would be like releasing a tiger. But keeping her captive wasn’t exactly legal either. And back in Cao Village, the groom and bride had both vanished the night before the wedding—people were bound to be in an uproar by now.

Luo Ren sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’ll take her with us for now.”

They found a small roadside inn near the county line and rented two rooms—one for the men, one for the women. After everyone had taken turns washing up, Luo Ren, who’d finished first, went to release Wan San’s bindings and re-tied her hands and feet with plastic cord instead.

Ya Feng winced from the pain but said nothing, her face hard and defiant. The sight irritated Luo Ren. He yanked a pillowcase over her head without a second thought, then picked up the phone and called the front desk. “Can you make some food—just a few simple dishes with rice?”

The clerk, speaking Mandarin with a heavy local accent, apologized. “Sorry, sir, we’re just an inn. We don’t provide meals.”

“Three hundred yuan,” Luo Ren said evenly. “Cook a few home-style dishes with rice. Keep the change for yourself. Can you do that?”

A pause—then the man’s tone turned excited. “Yes! Right away!”

Luo Ren hung up, walked to the window, and lifted the curtain. Sure enough, he saw the front desk clerk sprint out the door, hop on a bicycle, and pedal furiously toward a nearby restaurant.

Smiling faintly, Luo Ren plugged in his phone to charge.

Before long, a string of missed calls popped up—several from the same number. The fortune-teller.

He’d almost forgotten about him. They’d been trapped in the mountains for days with no signal. Could it be he’d found something new?

Luo Ren called back. The line clicked, and the fortune-teller’s voice came through—muted and strangely weary. “Hey.”

Luo Ren frowned. The man was usually upbeat; this gloom was unusual. “How’s Old Yin Erma?”

A long sigh came through the receiver.

“He’s dead.”

Luo Ren froze. “What? How did he die?”

The fortune-teller said quietly, “Life’s unpredictable. It was an accident—a natural death, under the circumstances.”

As it turned out, there had been no conspiracy, no murder. Old Yin Erma had simply died trying to save a child.

He’d gone into town that day to buy supplies. Since the village was small and had no real shops, he only went every so often to restock essentials—grain, flour, and the like. With the fortune-teller staying at his house lately, supplies had run out faster than usual.

The fortune-teller had tagged along for fresh air but soon wandered off, bored. That’s when he heard the commotion—a van had jumped the curb and smashed through a street barrier.

Later, they learned the driver had been drunk. People scattered in panic. The fortune-teller, from a distance, saw Old Yin Erma running to safety—then suddenly turn back.

He’d spotted a small child, maybe three or four years old, frozen in front of a fruit stand. The old man had thrown himself forward, shoving the child out of harm’s way just as the van struck him full on.

By the time they reached the hospital, the fortune-teller’s mind was still buzzing. In the high-risk observation room, doctors said the old man’s chances were slim. But suddenly, Yin Erma had jolted awake, tearing off his oxygen mask and IVs, trying desperately to get up.

The fortune-teller had rushed in, pushing past the nurses, and grabbed the old man’s trembling hand.

Yin Erma’s eyes were wide, unfocused, and blood at his lips. His mouth moved as if he were trying to say something.

Luo Ren’s voice tightened. “What did he say?”

The fortune-teller sighed. “I was too late. I think he wanted to tell me something important.”

He paused. “I only caught one word.”

“What word?”

“It sounded like… ‘mother.’ Or maybe ‘your mother.’ I’m not sure.”

After that, Yin Erma had died. And the secret he’d held onto so tightly died with him.

Luo Ren fell silent. He could imagine how frustrated the fortune-teller must have been. Secrets slipping away right before your eyes—it was something Luo Ren knew all too well.

The fortune-teller said he’d stay in the village a bit longer to help with funeral arrangements, then contact them again later.

When the call ended, Cao Yanhua came out of the bathroom. Still wounded from Luo Ren’s earlier “accusation,” he shot him a look of pure offense and disdain. Luo Ren couldn’t help but chuckle.

Before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door. The inn clerk stood there, drenched in sweat, holding eight takeout containers. He smiled sheepishly as Luo Ren handed him the cash—three hundred yuan was far more than the food was worth.

They set up the meal and called the others over. Mu Dai and Yan Hongsha soon arrived, freshly showered, hair damp and glistening.

Mu Dai noticed Ya Feng sitting with a pillowcase still over her head and jumped. “You’re not serious,” she said, half laughing. “Are we letting her eat too?”

That reminded Luo Ren. He grabbed Ya Feng and dragged her into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

“She can go hungry for a few days,” he said flatly. “She won’t die.”

Mu Dai couldn’t stop laughing. So Luo Ren could be petty after all.

She was still grinning when she noticed Cao Yanhua glaring at her, eyes full of betrayal—Little Master, you’re laughing with the guy who doubted me? Some loyalty!

She quickly wiped the smile off her face.

The dishes were simple but hearty—spicy chicken, salt-and-pepper ribs, twice-cooked pork. Mu Dai ate with gusto, but Yan Hongsha could barely swallow, her brow furrowed. “What are we going to do about Wan San? How do we even start looking?”

“Eat first,” Luo Ren said.

Yan Hongsha poked at her rice miserably, on the verge of tears. She’d been the last one to see Wan San alive; she couldn’t shake the guilt.

Then Luo Ren’s phone rang again. He set down his chopsticks and answered. When he saw the caller ID, his expression changed slightly.

“Wan San?” he said.

Instantly, everyone froze. Yan Hongsha leapt to her feet, rushing to his side. “Is it him? Is it really Wan San?”

Luo Ren didn’t answer right away, just listened. Yan Hongsha clasped her hands together like she was praying.

Finally, Luo Ren said, “Alright. Send me your location. I’ll check it out.”

When he hung up, Yan Hongsha was trembling. “Was it him?”

Luo Ren didn’t reply immediately. A few seconds later, a text came in. He looked at it, then smiled faintly.

Yan Hongsha couldn’t take it anymore. “Let me see!” she cried, reaching for the phone.

Luo Ren raised it easily out of reach.

He was tall; she couldn’t grab it no matter how she jumped.

His mood had visibly lifted. “Why do you care so much?” he teased.

“It is Wan San, right? What did he say? What did he text? Let me see!”

She kept lunging for it, but Luo Ren dodged each time. Finally, fuming, she grabbed his shoulders, leapt up, and wrapped her legs around him like a pole, trying to wrestle the phone free.

Luo Ren sucked in a sharp breath. “Are you serious right now?!”

Yan Hongsha shrieked, “Mu Dai! Luo Ren’s harassing me!”

Mu Dai didn’t even look up. She sighed, picked up a rib with her chopsticks, and said lazily, “Then just harass him back.”

Luo Ren was too busy dodging Yan Hongsha’s attacks to notice Cao Yanhua sneaking up behind him. A sly grin flashed across the man’s face before he smacked Luo Ren hard on the back and bolted for the door.

Revenge accomplished.

After all, Little Master did say he could hit him to vent.

Luo Ren was left half-laughing, half-exasperated. When he finally let go, Yan Hongsha triumphantly snatched the phone and started scrolling.

Straightening his clothes, Luo Ren sat back down beside Mu Dai. She reached over to fix his crooked collar and asked quietly, “It really was Wan San?”

Luo Ren nodded. “Yeah.”

Then, after a pause, he added, “Our ace.”