Chapter 77: Candy

Just as Qi Ran was about to say something, the volunteer aunt emerged from the kitchen and looked out into the courtyard. Qi Ran followed her gaze to the two ping-pong tables, where early-rising children had already scrambled out to claim them. Even younger kids were chasing and playing around the lone swing set. There was also a thin, introverted-looking child timidly standing not far away. He looked about ten years old, clutching a white, opaque plastic bag tightly in his hands. Qi Ran noticed the child’s gaze seemed to sneakily rest on her, so she smiled gently and initiated conversation, “What’s your name?”

The child jumped in fright at the sound of Qi Ran’s voice. Meeting Qi Ran’s eyes made the child visibly tense and nervous, hands hiding behind the back along with that plastic bag of unknown contents. A faint sheen of sweat appeared on their small forehead. It was only then that Qi Ran realized the child was actually a girl.

This sort of thing was common here. Most of the clothes were donated, used garments. Without fully developed features and voices, boys and girls could only be distinguished by hair length. The girl’s hair was cut short and uneven, making it very easy to mistake her.

The child looked at Qi Ran, opening her mouth to answer. But because she was far too nervous, her words caught in her throat and wouldn’t come out. All she could manage was to awkwardly choke out a few unformed sounds. Qi Ran felt a bit helpless, sighing inwardly. She walked over to the child, crouched down, and extended her right hand. Slowing her speech, she asked again the question she’d posed before.

“What’s your name?”

The girl stared at Qi Ran’s outstretched hand, dazed for quite a while before she seemed to understand her meaning. She timidly grasped Qi Ran’s hand. Qi Ran felt a faint, ticklish sensation in her palm as the girl’s slender finger seemed to trace out a character: “Jing.”

“Jing, is that your name?” Qi Ran encouraged in a low voice. “It’s a very pretty name. What’s your surname?”

The girl seemed to relax a little. This time, she didn’t trace characters with her finger but spoke directly. Her voice was very soft, but Qi Ran managed to hear her clearly.

The girl said, “Zuo.”

Sitting on the stool, Jiang Zhique, who had been spacing out, stiffened abruptly upon hearing those words. She exchanged a glance with Qi Ran, both of their eyes filled with disbelief. Zuo was by no means a common surname in the Zhongnan region, let alone in this old city district of Pingjiang. The girl’s age also matched their calculations. She must be the daughter of that woman surnamed Zuo who had committed suicide due to mental problems. She was actually here, in this very orphanage.

Greasepaint and her companions had grown up in this orphanage. The girl Miss Ah Qiao had asked them to find was also in this orphanage. There was even an Executor—this man named Fang Qi—volunteering here. It was clear he’d been helping out here for a long time. And among the children he’d helped care for were those teenagers who harbored quite strong opinions against Executors. It was just like a real-life version of The Farmer and the Viper.

Too many things were too coincidental. They had even come here by coincidence, running into Greasepaint’s group. Qi Ran didn’t like this kind of coincidence. She didn’t believe in the concept of luck. It was more likely that she and Jiang Zhique had been guided here, that Greasepaint and the others had been guided here too, and the one pulling their strings was the Master Behind the White Cloth.

“Little Jing, do you really like this big sister?” the man named Fang Qi said, walking out from the kitchen. Frankly, seeing anything resembling “gentleness” on that fierce face of his was genuinely unsettling. But Zuo Jing didn’t seem afraid of him. She simply nodded gently, releasing Qi Ran’s hand. She took out the white plastic bag hidden behind her back, untied it, and carefully rummaged inside. Qi Ran saw that the white plastic bag seemed to contain snacks. Not many: two packs of biscuits, three small individually wrapped chocolates, half a pack of green chewing gum, and two lollipops printed with cows. She hesitated as she picked through the bag. Qi Ran watched her fingertips hover between the chocolate and the lollipops multiple times, seemingly struggling to decide.

Finally, Zuo Jing seemed to make up her mind. Her fingers settled on a lollipop. She took out the milk-flavored one and held it out to Qi Ran. Qi Ran, slightly amused, accepted the lollipop and was about to put it in her pocket. But the girl stopped her movement, simply watching her eyes quietly. Qi Ran guessed her intention and could only unwrap the lollipop and put it in her mouth. The milk flavor was rich. Seeing Qi Ran follow her wish, Zuo Jing looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for something.

“It’s very tasty,” Qi Ran hesitated, then reached out and gently touched the top of Zuo Jing’s head. The girl’s hair was so soft she dared not apply any pressure, as if even the slightest force would ruin it. “Thank you.”

Zuo Jing smiled silently, then put away the plastic bag. It was clear she treasured these snacks; her movements were careful and gentle. Qi Ran guessed she probably carried the bag with her to prevent other children from stealing it.

“Little Jing, breakfast is almost ready. Go wait on a chair,” Fang Qi said with a smile. “This morning we have shredded potato wraps, porridge, and eggs.”

Zuo Jing nodded and walked away from the front of the kitchen. Fang Qi watched the girl’s receding figure, his tone carrying a hint of resignation. “The other kids are probably hungry and want to ask how soon breakfast will be ready, but they’re afraid of me and Auntie Li, so they sent Little Jing to ask us instead, right? This kid is too introverted. She can’t say no to people, either.”

Despite his words, his face still held a warm, gentle smile. He probably thought there was nothing wrong with it—not even a fraction of what could be called bullying.

“She…” Qi Ran carefully chose her words, asking as tactfully as possible, “When did she come here?”

Fang Qi understood her meaning and said quietly, “Auntie Li said Little Jing was brought here when she was six. The one who sent her was her aunt. Because she was getting married, she couldn’t continue helping to raise her anymore.”

He thought for a moment and shifted away from that less-than-lighthearted topic, saying with a smile, “You’re pretty popular with Little Jing. That milk candy is her favorite. She’s never given it to anyone else… The ones she gave me before were all chewing gum she didn’t like.”

That piece of candy wasn’t particularly delicious or precious—just the kind of five-mao lollipop sold at roadside convenience stores. Qi Ran looked down at the torn candy wrapper in her palm and nodded.

“Not to be rude, Brother Fang Qi,” the male university student said from behind Fang Qi, patting him on the shoulder with a sigh, “but do you realize how much you resemble a middle-aged man sitting on the balcony, smoking melancholically and wondering why your daughter isn’t as clingy as she was when she was little? This isn’t a good sign! Are you really not planning to go on blind dates? Honestly, I think with your qualities, Brother Fang Qi—caring, excellent at cooking, a stable government job—you’d be quite the catch if you actually went matchmaking.”

“The way you’re nagging me right now makes you seem far more middle-aged than I am,” Fang Qi sighed. “And where did you learn to rattle off such a smooth string of words?”

“My dad was sitting on the balcony a few days ago, smoking and complaining to me about how my little sister is being particularly rebellious in her teenage phase… But seriously, Brother Fang Qi, what’s the reason you keep putting it off? Don’t tell me it’s some kind of marriage-free philosophy?” The student laughed. “Don’t wait until later, when I’m volunteering at a nursing home, look at the bed, and find old you lying in it.”

“Well, it’s not that,” Fang Qi couldn’t help but sigh again. “Do you have any idea how busy our unit is right now? The other day, I was seriously considering buying a sleeping bag and just living in the office. Who would want to date someone who works overtime into the late hours every single day? I’ll look into it when things ease up a bit.”

The student chuckled but didn’t press further.

“Stay for breakfast,” Fang Qi said once the outsider was gone. “Auntie Li’s shredded potatoes are pretty good.”

“You recognize me,” Qi Ran said, sitting on the stool, her tone calm. “Because of Qi Xin?”

“Pingjiang Special Execution Group, Team Two. Acting Team Leader, Fang Qi. Executor number 003823,” Fang Qi offered no pretense, simply nodding. “You look very much like your sister. Without that blue color, I wouldn’t be able to tell you two apart.”

“So, is there something you want?” Qi Ran asked.

“Just saying hello,” Fang Qi said, looking over at Jiang Zhique and nodding in greeting. “It’s clear Li Siwen treats you quite well. That’s a good thing. You should understand why he came looking for you, right?”

Qi Ran nodded. “I just don’t understand why you’re contacting me now. Aren’t you worried about outsiders finding out?”

“I have worried about it. I also know this might cause some negative repercussions or lead to some unpleasant speculation… like making the current, more adversarial situation even sharper,” Fang Qi said calmly. “But someone convinced me. I thought what she said made a lot of sense. We are Executors, different from ordinary patients. From the very beginning, we must understand what we are supposed to do. We must seek correctness, but we must also maintain stability. Neither is more important than the other… That’s the simple truth of it.”

“What exactly are you trying to say?” Qi Ran frowned. She couldn’t quite grasp what the man before her was talking about. He was speaking in riddles.

“What I want to say is quite simple.” Fang Qi took a business card from his pocket and handed it to Qi Ran. Qi Ran took the card; three rows of numbers were written on it, looking like phone numbers.

“What’s this?” Qi Ran asked.

“The first line is Team Two’s phone number. The second is Qi Xin’s personal contact. We bought her a cell phone for communication. The third line is a girl named Xu Yan,” Fang Qi said evenly. “She found her way to us and is currently undergoing treatment related to Lake Cutter. But the result is what you know—she shows no traces of having been in contact with Lake Cutter.”