Password incorrect.
Just as I thought.
Her screensaver was still the default boot screen, with four digits representing the time slowly ticking over.
After half a minute passed, I guiltily tucked it back into the sofa crevice like a thief. Not long after, Gan Ling came straight in through the door, holding my keys in her hand—thinking about it, I’d hung them by the door, and she could’ve just grabbed them and made a copy without me even noticing.
She was also carrying a bag, bulging and full. She always lugged around all sorts of magical plastic bags. I craned my neck to look; Gan Ling was bending down to take off her shoes.
“I thought you’d left.”
“Keep looking at the photos.”
“Oh… I thought…”
“You’re being so whiny now that your period’s come?”
I shut up. Gan Ling went into the kitchen, clanging and banging away like she was renovating the place. I covered my ears and huddled against the sofa like I was in a trench dodging an artillery barrage. Once things quieted down, Gan Ling poked her head out: “Feeling better?”
My stomach didn’t hurt anymore. I stuck half my head out from behind the sofa to look at Gan Ling, afraid she’d hurl a frying pan at me.
Suddenly, she was bustling around my place like she owned it, like a round chess piece plopping down in my usual spot, picking me up with two fingers and flipping me over to the edge of the board as decoration. I felt completely out of place.
No response. Gan Ling vanished back into the kitchen.
The “renovation” was wrapping up, and I caught a whiff of aroma.
Potatoes stewed with pork ribs—she’d even diced up the half cob of corn I’d left over and tossed it in to soak up the flavor.
I didn’t have a dining table. Living alone, I had no sense of ceremony, so I just set food out on the TV cabinet, coffee table, bedside table, desk, whatever depending on where I was sitting. Right now, I was on the sofa, so two bowls of rice went on the coffee table, with a plate of potato and pork rib stew smack in the middle, plus some cold-mixed kelp shreds.
Gan Ling carried her bowl over, fished the phone out from the sofa crevice, turned on the TV, and seemed ready to use Neng County men’s faces to go with her meal. I hurriedly snatched the remote and switched to another channel.
“When eating, don’t look at those people… Mm.”
Besides, I’d gone through so many photos by now, like scraping the bottom of a gold vault—the remaining ones were visibly few. Even if I dragged my feet, I couldn’t stretch it out past this holiday.
I switched to a Japanese anime and started watching. Gan Ling held her bowl with four fingers, picked up a chunk of rib, a piece of corn, a potato, and a chopstickful of kelp shreds, then ate with total focus, eyes straight ahead.
I said her cooking was pretty good; Gan Ling said no talking while eating.
After one and a half episodes of anime, I was mostly done eating. Gan Ling swiftly cleared the coffee table, showed impressive resolve by cutting off the anime, and switched to screen mirroring. I watched helplessly as a blond paper-thin pretty boy turned into a sweaty Neng County man. My stomach started hurting again, but Gan Ling had reached her limit after waiting on me all morning while I whined.
She took several deep breaths, like a motorcycle revving its engine with a couple kicks to start—like impatience was burning fiercely in her chest. I adjusted my mood and seriously started watching TV.
I spent a long time going through this Neng County man’s rich stockpile. On the last day of the holiday, I finished off the photos Gan Ling had taken. Naturally, the culprit wasn’t among them. It was almost impossible for the culprit to be there.
I’d only agreed to look at the photos to buy time, dragging Gan Ling along with me.
With the photos exhausted, Gan Ling’s hope was like a candle burned to its wick’s end, flickering, on the verge of going out.
But this person was clearly much more rational than when we’d first met. With the album empty, she sat there like a left-behind elder, staring blankly at the TV for a bit, then snatched the remote to block it out of sight.
What next? Gan Ling and I each had our own troubles. Neither of us spoke rashly; we’d already mentally sparred eight hundred rounds in our heads. I was a pro at looking at photos, and Gan Ling had no reason to abandon such a huge sunk cost. But anyone with eyes could see it was like fishing a needle from the sea—way too hard. Harassing others and breaking into homes was obviously far more effective.
I got lost in thought. When I snapped back, the sky was gradually darkening, the room unlit. Gan Ling was staring at me.
Gan Ling often stared at me—like those faint, probing gazes on my back at Bright Kindergarten, the gloomy scrutinizing looks on the street, mocking, indifferent. I was always under that kind of gaze. Later, Gan Ling only used a third of her eyeball on me, always impatient, brushing me off like a kid.
Being stared at again, surprisingly, I felt calm. Gan Ling said, “You’re thinking about how to keep dragging me along after this, right?”
“No.” I denied it flat-out, shifting uncomfortably, standing to rummage for lemon slices to brew water. I added honey and a bit of rock sugar, stirred with a long chopstick. The dry lemon slices swelled as they absorbed water, fibers plumping up. Gan Ling appeared behind me out of nowhere; I jumped.
“Actually, I already went to the principal of Plum Kindergarten… Easy to find.”
“Oh.” Suppressing the storm in my heart, I capped the cup, poured into a glass, and calmly handed Gan Ling one.
“Too sweet,” Gan Ling critiqued. I said to dilute with some cooled boiled water; she shook her head.
“They were out of town. The moment I mentioned the thing from seven years ago, they hung up, blocked me. Even from a public phone, they hung up right away… They won’t talk.”
I wouldn’t talk either, but I didn’t poke at Gan Ling, pretending to sip my water. These past few days with my period, I’d been whiny, and Gan Ling had been a bit nicer to me. But no matter how whiny, a period only lasts a few days—Gan Ling would flip soon.
What would I do then? Stand by the window and throw a tantrum to prove even if I died I wouldn’t talk? Nah, not that far.
Gan Ling finished her water, rinsed the cup, and put it away. These past few days, she’d gotten familiar with my simple setup, while I felt like the awkward outsider, flitting around getting in the way.
“I’m leaving.”
Just like that?
Photos done, TV off, phone taken, even the disposable slippers taken away. Gan Ling had cast endless lines, knowing it was futile but still forcing me to sift through. I’d sifted, and there was no culprit. My sifting was faster than her photographing, and she’d realized how infeasible wandering the streets taking photos was.
But my lips were sealed; I said nothing.
I changed shoes and chased out the door. The elevator took me to the first floor. Out the building entrance, I saw Gan Ling standing at the complex gate, looking around.
The neighbor’s old sofa was being hauled away— one-two-three, they chanted as they loaded it onto a truck. A soggy square mark from rain in the wall corner. Gan Ling had her hands in her pockets; anyone flipping up her hoodie hood could see the soaked back, but the hood stayed bunched at her neck like a cyst.
She walked forward; I followed. I tailed Gan Ling out of the complex, not hiding on purpose.
Gan Ling didn’t look back. Everything around was cover for me—the security guard’s voice extra loud, roaring traffic, crossing the street a hassle. Roadside, a mom held a nonstop-crying kid; the dad beside just kept swiveling his head left and right like a useless nodding robot. Noise and cars masked my tracks.
I followed Gan Ling out of the alley, across the street. Red and green lights cooperated perfectly, letting me cross at a not-too-close, not-too-far distance from her. In the sweltering heat where everyone wore short sleeves, the golden road seemed to steam faintly. Gan Ling stuck out like a caveman, bucking the crowd heading north to snack and stroll the park.
I trailed behind in tank top, T-shirt, canvas shoes, clutching my phone at 32% battery.
Now I got how easy it was to tail someone—why Gan Ling, wandering near Bright Kindergarten the day before, had zeroed in on my area so quick. Hurrying along, no one looks back often.
But in the end, I failed. Gan Ling was sharper. Reaching a street bustling seven years ago but rundown now, sparse folks on e-bikes weaving south. Around were shuttered phone shops and dilapidated daily goods stores; Old Red Flag and the old market like two old men playing chess, facing each other across the median’s red light.
As I crossed the street, Gan Ling suddenly turned her head.
No cars here; my tailing was busted. I panicked instantly.
Gan Ling dashed to the middle of the road, grabbed my wrist, and yanked the flustered, useless Jiang Xiaohui to the curb.
She was this vigilant, yet a full five minutes passed before a car whooshed by.
At the daily goods store entrance, someone had splashed water on the road—a map-like stain.
We stood side by side on the sidewalk. I was embarrassed, fiddling with my phone, checked the battery at 30%, shoved it in my pocket. Left hand rubbing right, right rubbing left, loosening every knuckle. Gan Ling eyed a nearby manhole cover, deliberately stomped it, pulled back her foot, tugged me forward a few steps.
“You’re following me,” Gan Ling said.
I took a step forward, grasping for an excuse: “These past couple days… you’ve taken good care of me. Thanks.”
“Couldn’t say it on WeChat?”
“Phone’s dead…”
The lie popped like a bubble, splattering sticky on my nose tip. I still pursed my lips, stubbornly pumping it full of hot air.
“Going up from here leads to the reservoir in Neng County. There’s a small path that goes straight northwest. You can climb up a slope, walk along it for a long time, and you’ll see the railway. There are barbed wire fences on both sides, but some bold kids used to play there with knives and nails, so they discovered a very secret steep slope. Climb up it, and you can flip over the fence onto the tracks.”
Gan Ling suddenly tugged at my arm and pointed vaguely toward the north.
The place she was talking about was too far away. Following her finger, all I could see were distant neon signs and faded billboards. The last bus of the night shook its tail as it pulled up at the intersection, disgorging three old ladies.
Gan Ling rubbed her nose, then glanced back at me, seeming lost in thought. After a long while, she suddenly said, “Let’s go take a look.”
“Huh… what…”
“You followed me all this way, don’t you want to know where I’m going?”
I had no way to explain that I wasn’t actually curious. By the time I snapped out of it, I was already following along.
The situation had turned incredibly eerie. Gan Ling and I were walking one behind the other through the night in Neng County. The streetlights faded behind us, the glow of the county town dimmed, and the chirping of insects in the weeds grew loud and incessant, as if they’d suddenly seized the microphone.
At first, I wasn’t used to the surrounding darkness and clung tightly to Gan Ling’s sleeve. Later, some light filtered in, hazy all around.
“Fifteen years ago, a train passed through here around this time. I was working as a conductor on it.”
“Mm.”
“There was a guy who deliberately groped me. I turned around to punch him, but then the guy next to him in a leather jacket jumped up and kicked the pervert for me… After that, I left with the leather jacket guy.”
“And then you came to Neng County.” Gan Ling turned around and walked backward. The scenery around us kept moving forward. Afraid she’d back right into some unreachable dimension, I tried to persuade her gently, “We’ve walked too far. It’s dark, let’s head back.”
“Every time I come to Neng County, I’m full of ambition. I can do anything, have a wonderful life, hope for revenge—everything. But I’m just a damn outsider… nothing, can’t do a thing. I go crazy over and over, just fighting myself—taking all those photos, tracking down all those people, what’s the point?”
Gan Ling kept trudging through the wild fields, deep one step, shallow the next. We passed the reservoir, and I was panting for breath. My stamina was poor to begin with, and I fell further and further behind her.
But I was scared to be alone in the wilderness, and Gan Ling wouldn’t stop to wait for me. I could only keep propping my knees and shuffling forward. My legs grew heavier and heavier, like sinking into quicksand.
Finally, I couldn’t go on. I’d only just reached the slope Gan Ling had mentioned.
I hugged a tree for support. Gan Ling was a dozen steps ahead of me, still breathing evenly with steady strides.
“Teacher Xiao Jiang.”
“I can’t walk anymore, sorry… for rashly following you… I won’t do it again next time.”
I even thought Gan Ling was deliberately tormenting me, and I deeply regretted my impulsive decision.
“You’re already here.” Gan Ling pulled out that universal unbeatable line. I couldn’t move my legs either, shaking my head vigorously. “I can’t, I really can’t…”
“Then you won’t make it back either.”
That was even harder to refuse. I rubbed against the tree like a gorilla with an itchy back, hesitated for a moment, then painfully lifted my leg to step forward.
Gan Ling grabbed my hand. “Don’t give up. You’ve come this far…”
I always felt she meant something more, encouraging herself more than me. She held my hand as I hunched over, our shadows thin and elongated.
I’d steeled myself for not being able to get up for work the next day, full of resolve like heading into battle. Gan Ling cheered me on like a fitness coach—few words, but every time her fingers tightened, it was like I got pumped up with air, head held high for a brief burst of energy.
But when I saw the rushing water in the canal and the slippery stone walls on both sides covered in damp moss, my resolve leaked out fast. I plopped down on the ground. Even as Gan Ling prepared to climb the sheer stone wall and beckoned me over, I shook my head furiously and sat right there.
Gan Ling tilted her chin down at me. I picked up a large rock from the ground, hauled it to the edge of the stone wall, and kicked it into the canal with my leg.
Splash—the rock fell, splashed by the water, then swept away like an insignificant pebble to somewhere out of sight.
If I fell in—
I immediately scooted back a bit and hugged my knees tight.
Gan Ling said, “If you keep this up, I’ll trick the killer’s identity out of you.”
I had no idea how that connected, stammering without words.
“The urge to kill is just like mine right now—I have to reach that place.” Gan Ling pointed to the high barbed wire fence at the end of the canal.
“If your determination isn’t as strong as mine, I’ll eventually break through your defenses. You’ll tell me the killer honestly.”
I said this wasn’t the same thing at all. I’d never been here before, it was nighttime, she had every advantage of time, place, and brute strength. I didn’t exercise, I knew my limits—how could that prove I lacked determination?
“Bet on it. If you keep up with me, I’ll never ask about the killer’s identity again.” Gan Ling threw down her biggest chip.
“I don’t believe you, unless you swear.”
Gan Ling said, “Swear on what? Which god? Heaven and earth and ancestors?”
I wanted to say swear on Zheng Ningning’s spirit in heaven, but I didn’t say it in the end.
Gan Ling kept provoking me, forcing me to risk getting swept away and turning into a corpse in the middle of the night by climbing that stone wall to the tracks—this was the most exercise I’d ever done in my life. The gap in stamina between Gan Ling and me was like heaven and earth.
I imagined countless possibilities:
On the stone wall, my life hanging by a thread. If I didn’t spill the killer’s identity, she’d kick me into the ditch.
Or she’d save my life on the wall, then use moral pressure to make me spill out of gratitude.
Or maybe she’d realized today that searching for a needle in a haystack was pointless, gone fully off the deep end, and decided to kick me off and dump the body.
Gan Ling suddenly raised three fingers. “Teacher Xiao Jiang, I swear on myself. I guarantee you—if you keep up and reach the destination, I won’t ask you about the killer anymore. No more showing you photos, no harassing the people at Plum Kindergarten. I’ll go to the courts, the prisons, the police stations myself, pick fights to get locked up and ask the inmates—I’ll never ask you about the killer again.”
I was still hesitating.
“You game?” Gan Ling started taunting, her index and ring fingers wiggling slightly, as if she’d curl them and humiliate me hard if I chickened out. “Or tell me the killer now, and you can kick me off from up there, send me tumbling down—no one will bother you again.”
“I don’t care if you come find me.”
“Hm?”
“The hassle of being harassed by the family… it’s what I deserve.”
I shoved my phone deep into my pocket, then pulled it out and set it on the ground anyway, tying my shoelaces tight.
“It’s not about you not harassing me. The killer’s info—hah, it’s not like I’m selling information! Let’s bet something else. If I make it to the destination, you give up on revenge. How’s that? You game?”
I planted my butt on the ground and inched toward the stone wall. One touch, and my hand slid on the moss. Gritting my teeth, I clawed off the moss with my nails, wedging myself into a rocky crevice barely big enough.
Beneath me roared the turbulent waters. I glared viciously at Gan Ling, mustering my pathetic bit of momentum. “Do you dare?!”
