Chapter 82: The Girl Who Could Not Be Seen

Qi Ran sat at the plastic table and chairs outside the noodle shop, a bowl of soup noodles in front of her. The small, rundown shop had surprisingly good food, and the prices were so affordable it was almost shocking. A massive bowl of red oil tofu noodles cost only six yuan. She had never seen a bowl so big; she felt full after eating less than half.

At a nearby table sat a slightly hunched girl in a school uniform, her hair a mess. The knees of her pants were worn through with a hole. She looked like she might be the owner’s child, and her appearance felt familiar to Qi Ran, though she couldn’t place why. She noticed the girl seemed to be watching her, eyes bright and clear—that pristine look unique to a child’s eyes.

The girl, seeming to realize Qi Ran had caught her staring, looked away in a fluster. She grabbed the schoolbag beside her and left the noodle shop. After running out, she hid behind a utility pole, stealing a glance back. Seeing Qi Ran still looking at her, she ran off again in frustration, disappearing to who knows where.

Qi Ran found it a little amusing and asked the proprietress, busy cooking noodles: “How old is your kid?”

The proprietress didn’t even look up. “We don’t have any kids here.”

Qi Ran paused. “Not yours? I saw her staying around here the whole time, not eating any noodles…”

The proprietress lifted her head, glanced at the few people sitting in the shop, looking puzzled. “What kid?”

Qi Ran looked outside the shop, momentarily speechless. She suppressed the doubt rising in her heart and just smiled. “A child was sitting at that table just now and ran out. I thought she was yours.”

“Probably someone’s kid who wandered over,” the proprietress said, wiping sweat with a towel, not paying much attention to Qi Ran’s odd comment. She asked, “You don’t look like you’re from around here. What brings you?”

“School, here for volunteer work,” Qi Ran said, pointing towards the church building whose steeple peeked out. “Just getting something to eat before heading home.”

“Head back earlier next time,” the proprietress nagged. “This area isn’t safe, especially Red Street. You students definitely don’t go over there. Just a few days ago, they said a university student went missing. Take the main road when you go back, and walk fast.”

Qi Ran nodded, thanking her for her concern. Jiang Zhique was still eating with her head down. Her appetite was much larger than Qi Ran had imagined, perhaps because of the snake tattoo on her body. She had already finished her bowl of noodles, and it barely seemed to register. Qi Ran pushed over the large portion of noodles she had left. “Do you mind?”

Jiang Zhique hesitated for a moment, then nodded, taking the bowl. She explained, “I… am a little hungry.”

Qi Ran recalled the portion size Jiang Zhique had gotten back at the construction site cafeteria and guessed that she had only eaten until half-full then to save face. She sighed. “Why care so much? Has someone said something about how much you eat?”

Jiang Zhique hesitated, then nodded. “Before, at school… Don’t worry, I don’t really mind.”

Qi Ran glanced at her, thinking that ‘not minding’ was a complete lie. The girl practically had the word “mind” written all over her face. Perhaps due to Li Siwen’s influence, she held a deep sense of inferiority about her own condition. In daily life, she’d button every button on her cuffs, hiding the snake tattoo on her wrist meticulously. She’d rather go hungry than eat more than others. This also explained why Jiang Zhique was so thin—the small amount she did eat was mostly shared with the snake swarm.

She had no intention of offering comfort with pretty words, false platitudes like “Don’t be ashamed of your talent” or “I think it’s beautiful and good.” Such words were meaningless—she knew this all too well herself. The only way to resolve this inferiority was to eliminate its source, to deal with Li Siwen. There was no other way.

It was like back then, in front of the school gates, when the mother-daughter debt collectors knelt before her in front of other students, begging for repayment. Afterwards, Liu Xu and Xu Yan had said a whole bunch of things, not a word of which she remembered. It was probably comforting words like “What Qi Jianguo did has nothing to do with you.” Those words were useless, only making her feel more awkward. On top of an already miserable mood, she had to force out compliant lies like “It’s fine,” “I don’t really care”… Absolutely the worst.

How could it be unrelated? Even if it was, so what? These were things she knew perfectly well herself. She couldn’t deceive herself, and neither could Jiang Zhique. No pretty words could change the facts.

Jiang Zhique ate very fast, finishing the remaining noodles in a few quick bites. After cleaning up briefly, the two left the noodle shop. The sky had grown quite dark. They stood in the shadows outside the courtyard wall, waiting quietly until they saw the lights inside the courtyard go out before finally stepping out from the shadows. The sky was now utterly black; the only light source was a single, lonely streetlamp casting a faint, pallid glow.

“Have you ever climbed a wall?” Qi Ran asked.

“I have,” Jiang Zhique said hesitantly, “but I’ve never climbed one this high.”

Her hesitation was justified. The wall before them looked nearly three or four meters high, with no footholds whatsoever. There were no trees or anything to stack nearby, and the top of the wall was lined with sharp shards of glass. She couldn’t imagine any way to climb it.

Qi Ran sighed. “Doesn’t matter, we don’t need to climb it anyway.”

Jiang Zhique froze, guessing what Qi Ran was about to say. “You mean Greasepaint and the others…”

“That Auntie Li runs a tight ship here. Greasepaint isn’t old enough yet, so she still lives here,” Qi Ran nodded. “If those four wanted to sneak her out, they must have had a way in. None of their talents are related to walls, so there must be a way for us to get in.”

Jiang Zhique was about to say something when she suddenly heard a faint noise coming from the right. Exchanging a glance with Qi Ran, the two retreated backward, hiding into the shadows nearby.

“Ding-ling… Ding-ling…”

The noise sounded like a bicycle bell. As Qi Ran listened, her expression grew strange, because the direction of the bell was too odd. At first, it seemed to come from the right, but upon closer listening, it actually came from the front-right—from behind the right-front wall, inside the orphanage courtyard, the sound of a bicycle bell rang out.

“Is it a bell on a cat’s collar?” Jiang Zhique’s face was somewhat pale as she asked hesitantly, her voice clear through the communicator.

Qi Ran neither nodded nor shook her head. Goosebumps prickled slightly on her arms. The bell sound was chilling, seeming near one moment and far the next, as if someone inside the courtyard was riding a bicycle in circles, very slowly, constantly ringing the bell. She was absolutely certain it couldn’t be the sound of a cat’s bell.

Soon, the ringing disappeared. Without it, the streets of the Old City District were even more deathly silent and terrifying. Qi Ran took a deep breath, breaking the silence. “We’ll circle around and look. There must be a place along the wall where we can get in.”

Jiang Zhique also took a deep breath and nodded. Qi Ran’s calm tone influenced her, making her slightly less fearful.

Qi Ran had just stepped out of the shadows when she suddenly caught a glimpse of that somewhat familiar school uniform passing around a corner. She stopped dead. What kind of girl would wander around alone late at night? Coupled with the proprietress’s puzzled look at the noodle shop, a terrible feeling sprouted in her heart. Girl, orphanage, late night—these three words together didn’t seem to bode well.

“What is it?” Jiang Zhique asked, puzzled.

“You didn’t see that child?” Qi Ran asked.

Jiang Zhique shook her head, her expression grave. “You saw a child? What did she look like?”

“A little girl, looked to be about ten years old,” Qi Ran said. “In a school uniform, messy hair, not tied up.”

Jiang Zhique seemed to ponder this, then finally made a decision. “Which way did she go?”

Qi Ran led her forward, rounding the junction in the path. To her surprise, the little girl was standing right there in the shadows of the wall not far ahead, as if waiting for them. Jiang Zhique noticed her expression and asked softly, “Is she up ahead? I can’t see anything at all.”

Qi Ran slowly nodded. “She’s standing about ten meters away… looks like she’s waving at me, telling me to follow her.”