Chapter 6

Do you know that feeling of fleeing like a madwoman, the wind whistling fiercely past your ears, your heart pounding in chaotic panic? You’re so tense that your mind can’t process a single thought, reduced to pure instinct, bolting toward whatever gap the world offers.

That was exactly how Meng Bai felt at that moment.

She was riding on the back of Zhou Chuxing’s motorcycle when she heard the roar of engines starting up behind them.

“Chase them! Get that motorcycle for me!”

“Zhou Chuxing, take the side roads! Take the side roads! They’ve got trucks!”

Thank heavens, Zhou Chuxing’s bike was decently powerful, and he was no stranger to speeding—he had the skills to match.

They veered onto a narrow lane and tore ahead, quickly leaving their pursuers in the dust.

Only after they’d put some real distance between them did Meng Bai notice the tremor in Zhou Chuxing’s voice. “What the hell happened?! You still haven’t told me what went down back there!”

“Focus on driving. Don’t talk. Let me think.”

Meng Bai forced herself to calm down, piecing together everything that had just occurred.

She remembered how Boss Zhang’s face had shifted when she mentioned Zhou An—first surprise, then confusion.

That lost, bewildered expression had been plain as day.

Of course, that was precisely what Meng Bai had been aiming for: to catch him off guard.

Zhou Chuxing glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Come on, give me a hint at least? You’re freaking me out here!”

“Zhou An’s disappearance is definitely tied to her dad,” Meng Bai said with a frown. “But there’s one thing that’s still bugging me.”

“What?”

“Why did Boss Zhang say ‘How did you get here?’ when we brought up Zhou An?”

It had been an instinctive slip from him.

Logically, if Carpenter Zhou had owed Boss Zhang money and tried to pawn off Zhou An to settle the debt, then Zhou An should have been in Boss Zhang’s clutches right now—not prompting that kind of reaction.

“So???” Zhou Chuxing was an impatient sort. “You got a frog in your throat or what? Spit it all out at once!”

“I’m wondering if maybe Carpenter Zhou did have designs on Zhou An, and Boss Zhang was on board with it, but something went wrong somewhere along the line. Either way, Zhou An never ended up in his hands.”

“So do we call the cops? Report that sleazy Boss Zhang?”

“No evidence. The police won’t buy our word alone.”

“Then what do we do?”

“Head back to Long Town first.”

Rain started falling on the way home, the sky heavy and overcast. The bike jolted over the uneven ground, making Meng Bai’s stomach churn.

“Zhou Chuxing.”

“Yeah?”

“Zhou An mentioned you met the Lunatic once before?”

“Yeah, and she beat the crap out of me. That old lady packs a punch.”

“What does she look like?”

“Ugly!” Zhou Chuxing rubbed the tip of his nose. “Ugly as sin.”

“You sure?” Meng Bai checked his face in the rearview mirror.

He just grinned sheepishly. “Kidding. I never saw her face. She had this veil on, wrapped up tighter than a mummy. Couldn’t make out a thing.”

“I want to go find her.”

Plop—

Raindrops like fat beans splattered across Meng Bai’s face, carrying the chill of autumn wind.

“Find her? You’re nuts!! I’m not going.” Zhou Chuxing squinted against the downpour. “Damn, it’s really coming down now!!!”

And come down it did.

Summer was gone, and this first autumn rain was furious and unrelenting. They rode straight into the biting wind, arriving in Long Town soaked to the bone like drowned rats.

Zhou Chuxing dropped Meng Bai off at the school gate.

“I’m not going in,” she said. “I’m heading to the Lunatic’s House. You coming?”

Zhou Chuxing mourned the mud caking his bike. With a dramatic wave, he declared, “That’s on you. Go by yourself! I’m outta here!”

Meng Bai didn’t argue. She hopped off, heading into the school alone to grab her bicycle.

It was the first time she’d lied, claiming she felt unwell and needed half a day off.

~~~

The rain that day was torrential.

The bicycle bell rang out like an accompaniment to the storm as she pedaled over cobblestone paths and down a narrow trail. Finally, with a squeak of brakes, she pulled up steady at the gate of the Old Courtyard.

The sky that day was so dark it felt like evening.

“Anyone home?”

Bang bang—

“You there?”

The courtyard was deathly still, no answer.

Meng Bai stepped back a few paces and looked up at the walnut tree.

Greenish nuts were battered by the rain, tender leaves shivering in the onslaught.

“Lunatic! Lunatic!”

“Lunatic, are you there?”

Maybe it was the name that did the trick. With a creak, the long-sealed iron gate cracked open. The chain rattled with rust, and as the door swung wide, a gust of wind swept through, tousling Meng Bai’s hair.

She didn’t have time to think, but her body reacted—her chest thumping wildly. Fear, yes. Terror, absolutely. But mingled in was a strange spark of excitement.

The first thing that caught her eye wasn’t Miao Bai, but a drab gray oiled-paper umbrella.

Its color matched the gloomy sky perfectly, water beading on the glossy tung oil surface.

Miao Bai stood beneath it, shrouded in a black cloak and veil, her head wrapped in a scarf. In the cold light, only her eyebrows and eyes were visible.

Arched crescent brows, with peaks that arched gently upward, giving her an air of cool detachment.

For a moment, Meng Bai was dazed. This woman didn’t look like some lunatic—she looked like an immortal untouched by the mortal world.

“I… I came to find you.”

“Find me?”

Just those two words, delivered in a clear, resonant tone. Meng Bai couldn’t help thinking how beautiful her voice was.

“Yeah, I’m looking for you.” Meng Bai stepped back a little, positioning herself at the umbrella’s edge, and said softly, “I wanted to thank you again for that night.”

A hint of warmth entered Miao Bai’s eyes. “Didn’t you already thank me that night?”

“I wanted to say it once more.”

Miao Bai regarded her for two seconds, then held out the umbrella. “The rain’s heavy. You should head back.”

“I can’t. I need your help.” Meng Bai’s throat bobbed nervously as she tested the waters. “You’re nothing like anyone else in this town. You have some kind of supernatural power we all lack, don’t you?”

Miao Bai didn’t reply. Her eyes simply fixed on Meng Bai.

“I’ve got no other options.” Rain streamed down Meng Bai’s face. She wiped it away with her hand and pushed the umbrella back. “My best friend is missing. I can’t find her. I suspect her father sold her off. Maybe she escaped, or she’s hiding somewhere.” Her voice cracked there. “I think… only you can help me.”

She had said so much, expecting Miao Bai to respond in some way, but all she got in reply was that oiled paper umbrella.

Miao Bai handed it to her without saying yes or no, her mouth repeating only those words: “Go back.”

Meng Bai saw how firm she was and didn’t press the issue.

Clutching the umbrella, she descended the stone steps in a few strides, unable to resist glancing back at Miao Bai.

Beneath the gray sky and steady drizzle, Miao Bai stood on the steps, watching her.

It was like a painting—a pencil sketch in somber grays, the sole splash of color that thriving ink-green walnut tree.

“So what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you Lunatic.”

“Miao Bai.”

“I’m Meng Bai—Bai like in cypress tree.” Rain drummed against the umbrella. “I’ll bring it back once the rain stops.”

With that, Meng Bai popped open the umbrella, hopped on her bicycle, and pedaled straight into the downpour…

~~~

She vaguely remembered how stunned Lin Li had been when she got home that day.

Lin Li was Meng Bai’s stepmother. Not her biological mother, but childless herself, she treated Meng Bai almost like her own daughter.

“Where’d you get that umbrella?”

“From a friend!” Meng Bai collapsed the umbrella and hugged it close as she dashed inside.

“You weird kid—what’s gotten into you today? Skip school? Oh! You’re drenched again! Change out of those clothes right now!”

“I got permission from the teacher!”

The moment Meng Bai entered her room, she locked the door behind her. Ignoring her sodden clothes, she carefully opened the umbrella and laid it flat on the floor to dry.

Lin Li knocked from outside. “Pouring rain today—no work at the construction site. Your dad’s coming home for dinner.”

“Achoo!” Meng Bai peeled off her T-shirt, shivering as she hunted for dry clothes, calling back: “Got it!”

She had no bandwidth for Lin Li’s questions.

Once changed, she dropped to a squat and inspected the umbrella. Plain bluish-gray cloth, bamboo ribs, adorned with exquisite traditional Chinese motifs of flowers and birds, sealed with a layer of tung oil against the wet.

It had years on it—aged, but not shabby.

Beautiful. Truly beautiful.

Oiled paper umbrellas were museum pieces these days, but Meng Bai recalled her grandfather’s stories: back in his time, only well-off families carried such things. Those delicate blossoms and birds on the canopy? Not for roughnecks.

So Miao Bai…

Why carry one like that?

~~~

Meng Bai spent the entire afternoon on pins and needles.

Because Meng Xingzhong was due home for dinner.

The construction site was too remote for frequent visits—once a week, maybe every other.

She couldn’t pin down the reason this time.

Just the rain? Or had he already heard about her morning jaunt to the site?

The knot of worry didn’t loosen until Meng Xingzhong walked through the door.

Around six p.m., he finally arrived.

Everything seemed routine. Raincoat on, safety helmet in hand, he spotted Meng Bai and barked: “Fetch your dad two liang of liquor.”

He enjoyed a drink but never overdid it—just a modest tipple.

Lin Li emerged from the kitchen with a grin, a dish of peanuts in hand. “Bring this for your dad too.”

Meng Bai complied, exhaling in relief. He hadn’t heard about the site.

Family dinner was straightforward: a massive pot of pork rib stew loaded with daikon and cabbage. Meat wasn’t daily fare, so this qualified as decent.

Out of habit, Meng Xingzhong quizzed her on school: “How’s studying going?”

No scholar himself, he backed her education all the same—a debt of gratitude Meng Bai always felt.

“Same old.” She ladled soup into his bowl and slid it over. “Dad, you hear about Zhou An missing?”

Meng Xingzhong paused, flicked a look at Lin Li, then back: “And?”

“No cops, Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun aren’t searching. You know how he loves cash—he was counting on marrying her off for bride price. Her gone means his payout’s vapor. How’s he so chill?”

Meng Xingzhong nursed his liquor in silence, gruff as an elder: “Adult business—stay out of it, kid.”

“Stay out? When Zhou An’s been my friend since we were toddlers in the dirt? Friend vanishes, and I do nothing?”

“Alright, meddle if you must.”

Meng Bai sighed, going soft: “Dad, you gotta step in. Help me out.”

“Me?” Meng Xingzhong threw up his hands, exasperated. “Think I’m some hotshot? Zhou family drama—the carpenter handles his own.”

Facts were facts, but damn if it didn’t sting.

Undeterred, Meng Bai pressed: “You know he was gambling? At your site. Dropped eighty grand! Eighty thousand! Loses it, and days later, Zhou An’s gone. Coincidence?”

Old Meng froze, clunking down his bowl. “How’d you sniff that out, you pup?”

“Confirms it—gambling on site! Dad, you know details, right?”

“Zip it!” Old Meng erupted for real, slamming the table. “One word outside these walls, and you’re no daughter of Old Meng’s!”

They traded barbs, neither backing down.

Lin Li’s head throbbed; she waded in: “Family meal for once—eat in peace, no rows.” To Meng Bai: “Little Meng, table this with Dad. Work wears him out—let him eat.”

“Not hungry.” Meng Bai dropped her bowl and chopsticks. “Can’t even swallow.”

She stormed to her room.

Meng Xingzhong jabbed a finger at her retreating back: “Hey! That temper! I spoiled you silly! Getting worse with age!”

Lin Li tugged his sleeve. “Old Meng, pipe down. Aunt Li’s boy next door’s the same—puberty, they call it? Yeah, teens act out. Ignore her; take it easy.”