Chapter 5

Before discussing Zhang Gou, another person needed to be introduced first.

Meng Xingzhong.

Meng Bai’s father, who eked out a living hauling bricks back then. The construction site was thirty kilometers outside of town, and Zhang Gou was the boss contracting the job.

The first week of Zhou An’s disappearance.

This whole episode was too bizarre to chop up; it demanded a seamless telling.

So for now, let’s rewind the clock to ten years ago.

Autumn, ten years prior—September 8th.

Meng Bai’s life was an utter wreck in those days.

But life doesn’t come with a pause button; what has to keep moving forward does.

That morning, she hopped on her rickety old bicycle and headed to school. It was market day, and the small town buzzed with its usual energy.

The gossiping aunties gossiped away, the old men spun their tall tales as always.

No one had altered their routines on account of Zhou An’s vanishing.

The morning sun climbed into the sky right on schedule, its warm rays washing over the town.

Meng Bai squinted against it, seeing only a hazy, dust-veiled glow that brought her no joy.

She soon pedaled up to the gates of Long Town No.1 Middle School, the area’s only middle school—or so the story went, funded by big-city entrepreneurs.

A handful of students lingered out front, munching on breakfasts of steamed buns and such.

Meng Bai wheeled her bike forward briskly. From the crowd, a guy’s voice rang out.

“Meng Bai!” He waved as he strode toward her.

She glanced up, her brows knitting together, but she didn’t break stride.

He picked up the pace, jogging to catch her. “Hey, don’t walk off—I gotta talk to you.”

He was Zhou Chuxing, Zhou An’s cousin. Still just sixteen or seventeen, but he’d long since dropped out of school.

He’d dyed his hair some garish yellow at a sleazy barbershop in town—pure wannabe punk, slouching around with the local thugs all day.

Meng Bai figured they ran in different circles; her tone came out icy. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“Come on, how could we have nothing to say?” Zhou Chuxing planted himself in her path. “Let’s talk about my sister—what do you think?”

Meng Bai halted and met his eyes. “Talk about what?”

He glanced around furtively, then gave her sleeve a light tug. “Over here, come on.”

He drew her aside to a quieter spot, looking all shifty.

“My sister’s been gone for days now—any word from the cops?”

Her voice sharpened. “Do I look like a cop to you? Why ask me? Go bug Carpenter Zhou.”

“Pfft, that’s a waste of breath!” Zhou Chuxing sneered, his contempt plain; the two clearly didn’t get along. “For all we know, he’s got something to do with her disappearing!”

“So what exactly are you getting at? I’ve got class—no time for your yapping.”

He shot another cagey look around, satisfied they were alone, then leaned in and whispered, “The day she vanished, she came looking for me.”

Meng Bai’s brows twitched. “When? Exact time?”

“Nine in the morning.”

That was before she’d met up with Zhou An.

“What’d she say?”

Zhou Chuxing scowled briefly. “She hit me up for cash—said she was starving, hadn’t eaten. I slipped her five bucks for some cold noodles.”

“Zhou An couldn’t even afford food?”

She’d never breathed a word of that to Meng Bai.

Meng Bai had assumed that, bad as Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun were, they’d at least keep the kid fed.

“She told me that day that Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun hadn’t come home in three or four days. And get this—on August 25th, Carpenter Zhou rode his motorcycle out to that construction site thirty kilometers away to gamble. Lost a fortune—this much!”

Zhou Chuxing’s eyes went wide as he flashed an “8” with his fingers.

Meng Bai blinked, dazed. “Eight hundred?”

“Eight hundred? Try eighty thousand!”

“Eighty thousand!” Meng Bai had never laid eyes on that kind of money; the figure was so enormous it blurred into abstraction.

Zhou Chuxing went on, “So yeah, I’m thinking that dog of a Carpenter Zhou must’ve done something unforgivable!”

Meng Bai muttered under her breath, “Wouldn’t put it past him to sell off his daughter in desperation.”

“Sell his daughter?” Zhou Chuxing bristled at the words. “You saying he sold my sister? I’ll end that bastard!”

Meng Bai studied him, her opinion shifting. Apparently, he did care about Zhou An.

Her mental image of him had always been tied to that flashy red motorcycle of his.

Revving it up and down the streets like a clown.

Oh, right—the motorcycle.

“Zhou Chuxing, you’ve got a motorcycle, yeah?”

“Hell yeah, I do.” He grinned proudly. “Goes whoosh—whoosh. Beats the hell out of that junker bike of yours.”

“Meet me at the school gate at noon. We’ve got a place to check out.”

“Huh? Where to?”

Meng Bai said nothing more, just wheeled her bike through the gate…

~~~

That morning’s classes passed in a fog for Meng Bai; her mind fixated on one thing: Carpenter Zhou’s gambling loss.

Piecing it together—August 26th, Carpenter Zhou blows eighty grand gambling at the site. Zhou An vanishes on the 31st. Days apart, nothing more.

And on the day of the disappearance, when Meng Bai had gone looking for her, she’d overheard Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun arguing about money right at the door.

Was the vanishing tied to the debt?

No way to know, but she meant to find out.

The bell rang for dismissal, and Meng Bai was out like a shot—no detour to the cafeteria. Straight to the gate.

There leaned Zhou Chuxing against his red motorcycle, parked smack in the middle for all to see.

She hurried past; he called a greeting, but she ignored it, flicking her eyes to signal him to move somewhere less conspicuous.

If any teachers or classmates spotted her climbing on, there’d be hell to pay.

Grumbling, Zhou Chuxing eased the bike aside. “Man, you’re slow—been waiting half an hour.”

Meng Bai swung onto the back peg and slapped his shoulder. “Let’s roll.”

“Where?”

“That construction site thirty li out.”

“That far? Shit, that’s gonna burn through my gas!”

“You wanna find Zhou An or not?”

That shut him up. Without another word, he stomped the starter, and the garish red motorcycle chugged off down the road.

~~~

In Meng Bai’s mind, the construction site always had a huge demand for laborers, which was why Meng Xingzhong had been hauling bricks there nonstop.

She’d never heard anything about gambling, though. Meng Bai figured that if those guys really were gambling, they sure as hell wouldn’t let a kid like her find out about it.

Either way, Carpenter Zhou losing eighty thousand yuan was definitely true. Zhou An wouldn’t lie about something like that.

So the real question was whether that debt had anything to do with Zhou An going missing.

Meng Bai was convinced it did. After all, it was their only lead right now.

The motorcycle raced along the freshly paved road, Zhou Chuxing handling the drive with smooth confidence.

“Hey.” Over the rush of wind, he glanced at her in the rearview mirror, squinting with a teasing grin.

Meng Bai’s bangs fluttered up from her forehead, exposing her clear skin. She gave him a lazy look, her voice equally offhand. “What?”

“Ever had anyone tell you you’re pretty?”

“Oh.” The words slid right past her. “Focus on the road, will you?”

“Last time, me and my buddies spotted you and Zhou An out on the street. They all said you were a knockout.”

“So?” Meng Bai’s brow furrowed. “Zhou Chuxing, is that the only damn thing you talk about?”

He let out an awkward chuckle and shook his head. “Alright, alright, no more messing with you. I’m just pissed about the gas money right now.”

“I’ll chip in half later.” Impatience edged her tone. “Step on it. I’ve got class this afternoon.”

Half an hour later, they pulled up to the construction site.

It was Meng Bai’s first time there.

She recalled Meng Xingzhong mentioning how the place had once been a rundown village. Then developers had eyed it for a tourist attraction—an entire ancient town project, massive in scale.

They stood at the main gate, ringed by corrugated metal fencing. Beyond it loomed half-finished buildings and stone statues everywhere.

Zhou Chuxing smacked his forehead. “This place is huge. Who the hell do we even talk to?”

Meng Bai replied, “My dad’s been busting his ass hauling bricks here—eighty yuan a day, no days off. Even flat-out for a month, that’s barely two grand. Guys like him don’t gamble. The gamblers? Either fat-cat bosses or hardcore addicts.”

Zhou Chuxing’s brain short-circuited trying to follow. “So… what’s your point?”

“Look around. Which of these screams ‘rich folks live here’? That’s who we find.”

He scanned the site: nothing but rows of single-story metal shacks.

Then his eyes snagged on a three-story building.

Tin-roofed like the rest, but way classier, with an air conditioner unit bolted outside. Bold red characters marked the main door.

Zhou Chuxing grinned. “That the spot? Says ‘Attack Japan HQ’ or whatever?”

Meng Bai sighed. “That’s the Project Department, not ‘Attack Japan.’ Pick up a book sometime.”

Noontime rush meant workers everywhere grabbing lunch, so the pair slipped right in. The crowd was all middle-aged guys, and Zhou Chuxing’s yellow hair drew a few stares.

Meng Bai picked up the pace, reaching the Project Department in no time. The front door hung wide open—no guards.

Peering through the first-floor windows revealed desks and chairs, a world apart from the workers’ digs.

A bit farther on, a glasses-wearing man emerged from an office, teacup in hand, about to refill it with leaves.

His gaze swung over—and locked on Meng Bai.

“Hey? Little miss, who you looking for?”

She was ready, cool as ice. “My uncle.”

“Your uncle? Who’s that?”

Meng Bai blinked innocently. “The boss here.”

“Oh, Boss Zhang? Two doors up ahead.” Only then did the glasses man spot Zhou Chuxing trailing her and block him. “And who’s the yellow hair?”

“My classmate. He can wait out here.”

Zhou Chuxing pulled faces behind her back, but Meng Bai ignored him and darted forward.

Her heart hammered, but the pieces were clicking: the site’s boss was a Zhang—Boss Zhang.

So, had Boss Zhang been the one playing cards with Carpenter Zhou that night?

Meng Bai was betting on it. Worst case, she lost nothing.

At the far end of the metal building, the office door stood ajar, a TV droning inside. From the threshold, Meng Bai peeked in: a man in his forties or fifties lounged there, picking his teeth with a toothpick.

Toothpick Guy had to be Boss Zhang.

She rapped lightly on the doorframe.

The middle-aged man glanced up. “Who’re you?”

“Are you Uncle Zhang?” Meng Bai blinked wide-eyed, every inch the naive schoolgirl.

Uncle Zhang froze for a beat, then shot to his feet, sucking in his gut. “Yeah, that’s me. Who might you be?”

“I’m Zhou An.”

His face went rigid. “Zhou An? What’re you doing here?”

Meng Bai’s pulse spiked.

A normal reaction would’ve been “Who’s Zhou An?”

But his tone—he knew the name.

“Yeah, it’s me. You played cards with my dad, Zhou Qiang, right? He owes you money. Sent me to settle up.”

Boss Zhang’s hand hovered midair, his brow creasing like crumpled paper. He faltered, brain clearly scrambling, before blurting, “But he called me—said you were missing?”

Meng Bai’s eyes narrowed. “So Zhou An was meant to come see you, huh?”

She spun on her heel and bolted.

Out in the corridor, Zhou Chuxing was still haggling with the glasses man, who refused to budge.

“Zhou Chuxing!”

He whipped his head around, clocking her frantic stride. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Go, go! Start the car!”

Trouble brewing, Zhou Chuxing shoved the glasses man hard and took off running.

Meng Bai stuck right on his tail. They peeled out fast.

The glasses man stood there, utterly confused.

“Huh?”

Five seconds later, Boss Zhang burst from the office, jabbing a finger at Meng Bai and the yellow hair’s retreating backs. “Grab that girl!”