Chapter 9

Meng Bai had been to Zhou An’s home countless times. She knew every inch of the place like the back of her hand.

Normally, Carpenter Zhou and Zhang Caiyun headed out in the evenings to play cards, leaving Zhou An home alone. That was when Meng Bai would often drop by to do homework with her.

It had been like this for years, so Meng Bai knew all the ins and outs.

“Sis, what are you groping around in the dark for? Why not just flip on a light?”

“Shut up.”

Meng Bai felt around in the candy jar next to the TV, quickly locating a flashlight. She clicked it on to the lowest setting, casting a faint beam across the room.

Zhou Chuxing muttered under his breath, “Tch, you really found it. Just like it’s your own house.”

Meng Bai said nothing. She swung the flashlight gently, its beam gliding over every corner of Zhou An’s home.

It was a mess, mostly thanks to Carpenter Zhou’s slovenly habits. The moment he got home, he sprawled out like some lord of the manor, puffing on his cheap smokes and tossing trash wherever it landed.

The living room looked downright shabby: a battered old sofa scavenged from God-knows-where, paired with a weathered wooden table. On the table sat an empty cigarette pack emblazoned with “Red Plum” in bold letters.

Another sweep of the light revealed peanut shells littering the floor.

Meng Bai wrinkled her nose. “Zhou An’s not home, and they’ve let the place turn into a pigsty.”

Indeed, Zhou An handled all the cleaning. The house looked like it hadn’t seen a broom in a good seven or eight days.

Zhou Chuxing whispered, throat tight, “Should we check Zhou An’s room first?”

“Mm.”

The door was wooden, its base pocked with countless tiny holes from chicken pecks. Meng Bai pushed it open and finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

Zhou An’s room smelled far better.

It was a narrow space: just a bed and a wardrobe. No desk—when the two of them did homework, they’d spread their books out on the bed.

The flashlight beam swept the room. Nothing looked disturbed; it matched her memory from the last visit perfectly.

Zhou Chuxing stepped to the bedside for a peek. “My little sis’s room is so bare-bones. Hardly any stuff! Just these wrinkled-up books—no junk dealer would give two cents for ’em!”

Meng Bai scanned the room’s layout swiftly. Nothing out of place.

She aimed the light at the floor. All clear.

Another pass, top to bottom. Still nothing.

Doubt crept into Meng Bai’s mind. She murmured, “What if she never came back that day?”

“Then where’d she go?”

Refusing to let it go, Meng Bai swept the beam back and forth once more. It paused over the bedding.

“Zhou Chuxing, check this out.” She pointed to the quilt. Its earthy yellow tone made the mark hard to spot unless you looked closely.

“What’s that?” Zhou Chuxing squatted down, squinting. He rubbed at it with his fingers. “Mud?”

It was a faint streak, rubbed from top to bottom—a small patch.

“You think Zhou An left it?”

Zhou Chuxing blinked in confusion. “Sure, it’s hers. But what’s it prove?”

“It was pouring that day. Zhou An held the umbrella over me and rushed off—her pant legs were caked in mud. What if this got on when she came back later to change?”

Zhou Chuxing pondered. “Could be. Or maybe she got it muddy earlier.”

Meng Bai shook her head. “It’d been clear skies for days before the rain. Where would the mud come from?” She crouched, shining the light again. “See? The streak’s pretty distinct. Zhou An’s neat as a pin—she’d have changed it if she noticed.”

Zhou An was a tidy girl. Even with her parents’ mess, she kept her own space spotless. Meng Bai remembered how diligent she was, always freshening up the bedsheets.

“So yeah, I bet she came home.”

Zhou Chuxing scratched his head, utterly lost. He had no ideas of his own—anything requiring real thought was beyond him.

“Whatever you say, it sounds right to me. I wouldn’t know.”

Meng Bai hadn’t expected him to contribute much. After a moment’s thought, she said, “Zhou Chuxing, we need to keep looking. Forget her room.”

“Where to?”

“Let’s check her parents’ room.”

Meng Bai had only been in Carpenter Zhou’s room once, years ago. She remembered it clearly.

Zhou An’s family had guests over, and Meng Bai happened to be there. Zhou An had dragged her along for a “tour”—really just to fetch booze.

The room had an odd layout: a little loft tucked away. You wouldn’t notice it unless the owner pointed it out.

The loft’s purpose was storage.

Rice had been a luxury back then. Climb up, and you’d find sacks of it, along with flour, jars of homemade wine, scraps of wood he’d swiped from his carpentry jobs—all piled up like a mini warehouse.

Meng Bai led Zhou Chuxing inside. A curtain hung on the right; lift it, and you could climb up.

“Tch, a loft? I had no idea!”

Meng Bai flicked the flashlight, wrinkling her nose at the thick dust.

Her memory had played tricks. As a kid, the climb had seemed simple; now it felt cramped.

You had to step onto a cabinet, then inch upward. The opening was barely a square meter—scramble through that to reach the loft.

Meng Bai handed the flashlight to Zhou Chuxing. “Shine it for me. I’ll check what’s up there.”

“You’re not scared?”

“Nope.” She was nimble enough. One foot on the cabinet, a pull with her slender arms, and she was up a step.

Zhou Chuxing aimed the beam at her pants. Through the thin fabric, he could make out the perfect lines of her legs.

“You’ve got a killer figure.”

“Get lost and shut your filthy mouth.”

He flinched, lips twisting. “Just a joke.”

“Save the dirty jokes.” Her tone was ice.

He clammed up.

Meng Bai soon reached the opening. She poked her head into the loft, eyes scanning, then called back, “Toss me the flashlight.”

“Oh.” He did.

“See anything?” he couldn’t help asking.

She swept the light around, face twisting in distaste. “It’s a disaster.”

A total mess.

It had clearly been ages since anyone had climbed up here. A thick layer of dust coated everything, mingled with mouse droppings, chunks of rotten wood, scattered pieces from an old game of Five in a Row, and—from God knows where—a stray L-cup bra.

Zhou Chuxing craned his neck. “Found anything?”

Meng Bai whipped her head around for a quick glance backward. The response came instantly. “Yeah, I did.”

“What?!”

“Zhou An’s umbrella!”

“Holy shit! Let me see!” Zhou Chuxing lunged toward the attic ladder, but he’d barely taken a step when—

A man’s voice boomed from outside the main hall. “Zhang Caiyun, aren’t you sick of this yet?”

The woman fired back. “What kind of man are you, anyway?”

Zhou Chuxing nearly passed out on the spot. “They’re not playing cards! They’re back!”

Meng Bai held a finger to her lips. “Quiet. Not a word.”

She moved like a cat, stepping lightly onto a nearby crate. Seizing the moment as Carpenter Zhou swung the door open, she grabbed Zhou Chuxing’s arm and pulled him toward cover.

His heart pounded like a drum. “Where? Where do we hide? They’re coming in!”

“Shh. Follow me.”

Two dark shadows slipped silently into Zhou An’s room.

The very next second, the light flicked on in the main hall.

Carpenter Zhou’s voice thundered. “If I’m nothing, then you’re nothing too, you goddamn bitch. If I’m a dog, you’re a chicken—we’re both fucking animals!”

A wooden stool crashed to the floor with a bang.

Zhang Caiyun was livid. “That little brat’s God knows where right now!”

“You’re such a stupid fucking idiot, screaming your head off like that. Louder! Go on, yell even louder!”

Meng Bai and Zhou Chuxing huddled in Zhou An’s room, scarcely daring to breathe.

But the couple’s argument carried clearly through the walls.

“I’m telling you, Zhou, this is illegal! She’s my only daughter—you lost her, and tomorrow I’m hauling your ass to the police station!”

Carpenter Zhou snorted. “When we talked it over back then, you weren’t saying that. Go ahead and report it—we’ll both end up in cuffs.”

Zhang Caiyun heaved for breath.

Then came the click of a lighter—Carpenter Zhou lighting up a smoke.

A heavy silence fell.

The house felt unnaturally still.

“Did you check Old Mountain?” Zhang Caiyun’s voice had dropped to a murmur.

“Yeah.”

“What about around Old River?”

Carpenter Zhou sounded irritated. “I checked there too. Everywhere. Not a goddamn trace of her!”

“I’m just asking—how the hell did she even get away? I told you to watch her close when you took her out. Watch her!”

“Halfway there, she said she had to pee. What, was I supposed to make her hold it?” He hacked up a wad of phlegm, took another drag. “I told that dumb girl, don’t listen to me—nothing would’ve happened even if we went to Boss Zhang. She’s just a kid; Zhang Gou’s not gonna straight-up rape her.”

“Nothing would’ve happened? You’re a man—don’t you get it? Zhang Gou’s the type who’d take my girl’s virginity!” Zhang Caiyun’s voice trembled. “You animal—how can you call yourself a father?”

“Heh, I’m the animal.” Carpenter Zhou’s laugh turned sleazy. “Then you’re the slut.”

“Zhou Qiang!” Zhang Caiyun’s tone sharpened, fury rising. “Marrying you is my daily regret. All you do is gamble, never mind the family. In the end, it’s me and An’an who suffer.”

“I gamble, you cheat—who’s keeping score? Live and let live.”

The sheer volume of revelations in their argument was staggering.

It was obvious their marriage had died long ago in name only.

“We have to find her,” Zhang Caiyun insisted. “We must. If the cops dig too deep, we’re screwed.”

Zhou Qiang sighed. “If we don’t find her soon, we’re done for. Zhang Gou’s stopped hounding me for the money, but the police station called again. I don’t even know what to tell them.”

“Where do we look? We’ve turned this whole town upside down. And that Meng Bai—poking around everywhere, asking questions. I’m scared she’ll uncover something.”

“We gotta watch her. That girl’s sharp.” Zhou Qiang took another pull from his cigarette and muttered, “Zhang Gou called me today too. Said some girl and that Yellow Hair punk went to the construction site pretending to be An’an. Who else but Meng Bai would pull that?”

Zhang Caiyun frowned. “And the other one—Yellow Hair?”

Carpenter Zhou’s voice dropped even lower. “I suspect…”

His words were too muffled to make out.

Zhou Chuxing’s nerves were frayed. He glanced at Meng Bai.

In the darkness, she stared intently through the door crack, the sliver of light illuminating her face. He couldn’t tell what was going through her mind.

Carpenter Zhou continued quickly. “Here’s the plan: tomorrow, we grab that Zhou Chuxing kid and grill him.”