I spotted a thicket ahead, the shape of it vaguely matching my memory, so I pulled the car over there. Before leaving, I made sure to instruct the driver to wait, calculating the compensation based on the standard rate; I had no intention of walking back for dozens of kilometers.

Arriving at the dense bushes, I looked around without much recognition. I thought hard, recalling that I had reached some high ground that night, so I looked toward the distance and, sure enough, found a slight rise. It was the only small mound in the vicinity; it must have been the place I went that night.

I sprinted to the peak of the mound and scanned the surroundings, using my recollection to pinpoint the copse where I had found the tuzhuzi. Feeling a slight tension, I walked over and threaded my way through the woods for a while, my heart slowly settling into stillness because there was nothing in the forest. Not only had I failed to find that finger joint, but the ingenious mechanism box was also nowhere in sight.

A sense of unease began to creep in. Was it all just a delusion? But why did I remember that particular thicket, and this small mound?

The world before my eyes suddenly grew indistinct. I could no longer separate heaven from earth, nor the willows from the poplars. I didn't know how vast the distance was between dream and reality, or if they could even transition into one another. But now, something bizarre was undeniably happening to me. Had I truly descended into severe paranoid psychosis?

I leaned back resolutely against a willow tree, watching the spectral branches sway and writhe, as if mocking me for believing I was lucid while being hopelessly ill.

Unwilling to concede, I wandered aimlessly in circles within the woods, searching again and again, as if that segment of another person's knuckle were the greatest hope left in my life.

And didn't this foolish, frantic idea itself prove that I was beyond saving?

Irredeemably lost in the woods, perhaps I would never wake up, destined to wander forever.

"Young man, young man!"

A voice jolted me out of my near-delirious state. I stared blankly at the person before me and mumbled, "Who are you?"

"It's the taxi driver, son. You’ve been wandering around here for almost two hours. I came over out of kindness to check on you. Listen, I won't even charge you for waiting. Just get in and come back with me now."

The taxi driver meant well; he feared leaving me alone there might lead to trouble, and my current state was obvious even to a pig—without someone to intervene, disaster was certain.

"Let's go, young man. There’s no mountain too high to climb in life. Whatever you encounter, it will all just be fleeting vapor, smoke and shadows when you look back."

His words carried a hint of Zen, and in my state of near-madness, a spark of realization ignited: I couldn't be like this. Since Xiao Xuan hadn't returned, if I was going to lose my mind, I'd wait until I found her first!

The thought of Xiao Xuan twisted my heart with agony, and my clarity returned. I nodded to the driver, "Alright, let's go back."

My voice was remarkably calm, so much so that it startled the well-traveled taxi driver, but since I was now willing to return, this was the best possible outcome.

There are always good people in the world, just as in the realm of beasts, there are ferocious jackals and tigers, but also gentle deer, sheep, oxen, and horses.

Once sobered, it suddenly struck me: Right! That car thief I handed over that night—he could prove that Xiao Xuan and I were together! I quickly fumbled for my phone, paused, then opened the messaging app and typed: "Around 1 AM last Saturday, Lan Jinxuan and I delivered a car theft suspect to the police station. The receiving officer was Gao Ming on duty. Both he and the suspect can confirm that Lan Jinxuan and I were together."

After writing it, I reviewed it. I figured Officer Gao Ming, perhaps due to the late hour and being startled by me, likely hadn't noticed Xiao Xuan behind me; otherwise, he should have reacted then. I adjusted the latter part of the sentence again and sent it to Lord Jiang.

I thought that once they questioned the car thief, they would naturally understand I was right—that I had rescued Xiao Xuan.

But if that was the case, why hadn't Xiao Xuan shown up for work on time? A fierce, dark cloud, mixed with the characteristic eerie gloom of Shiliu Bay, bound me tightly, wrapping around me like those countless willow branches, leaving me unable to escape.

My thoughts suddenly snapped back to that strange email, which had appeared before me inexplicably, guiding me to find Xiao Xuan.

What was the intention of the person who sent that email?

Was he a friend or a foe?

If he was a friend, he was an insider, reporting anonymously to avoid alerting the kidnappers. But if this person was the kidnapper, why would he do this?

Then, the white strip of cloth wrapped around the human finger flashed into my mind, and everything became suddenly clear. The writing on that cloth strip should reveal that this person was the kidnapper, and also the one who sent the email. His motive was to play a game, and the stakes of that game were Xiao Xuan’s life!

And there was only one participant: me!

A chill swept through me, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. The taxi driver retrieved a thermos from the car, poured a cup of hot water, and offered it, but I was oblivious, continuing my line of thought:

If that were true, then he would have a motive to kidnap Xiao Xuan again, because he was merely playing a game, the start and end of which were controlled by him. He needed Xiao Xuan, that chess piece, to initiate the game.

"Young man, get in the car," the driver's voice reached my ears. I slid in like a puppet, my mind still racing through my deduction: He only wants to play a game, so he probably isn't the killer. Therefore, Xiao Xuan's safety shouldn't be threatened. But what if he wanted to end the game?

My heart suddenly sank, down to a place I couldn't define, where there was no light, no warmth, only utter stillness and desolation.

Everything was unknown, everything was vague, everything was controlled by someone else—how terrifying that was!

The taxi started moving, and the jolting brought my thoughts to a halt. I decided to stop thinking about it for the moment, because fear was a shameful thing.

I needed to shake off this mental confinement before I could face the opponent squarely.

I glanced at the driver's ID badge; it read "Liu Hongming." I resolved that if I ever had the chance in the future, I would certainly treat this good man to a drink, at least to express my gratitude for today. Then, a thought struck me—why wait for a future opportunity? Today was the best chance.

I said, "Master Liu, thank you so much today. Let me treat you to a drink at Lan Guiren!"

Somehow, the name Lan Guiren slipped out; perhaps it was because he had driven me there before.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly! I've never been to a place like that in my life, and I still have to drive. But I think it would be good for you to have a drink. While they say alcohol can lead to reckless behavior, occasionally letting loose when you're down can actually lift your spirits."

If Master Liu had a formal education, I thought he could easily be a university lecturer. From these few interactions, I felt his speaking style was extremely refined; a few simple sentences could reach right into your heart and leave you pondering.

But I was determined to treat him, so I pressed on, "Money is never all earned. Besides, you’ve driven me back and forth today, so you should have made a decent profit. After we have a drink, you can drive me home, and I’ll still pay the fare; you won't lose out."

The mention of money brought out Master Liu's everyman nature. His eyes darted around as he quickly calculated everything. He finally conceded, "Alright then, I'll gratefully accept your offer, accompanying you in this endeavor."

So cultured, much more so than someone like Gao Jianning. He really didn't look like a taxi driver. It seems this profession truly hides dragons and crouching tigers.

Ahead was Lan Guiren. It stood quietly observing the bustling street. Every time someone passed by, it would capture their reflection in its gleaming glass and file it away in some secret place to admire slowly.

As I stepped through the main entrance, I inwardly murmured, "I hope I don't run into that woman today."

I wasn't referring to the proprietress, Zhao Shiya, of course, but the other heavy drinker—Zhang Hemei. I disliked her not because she was too hypocritical, but because she had deceived You Qiaolin. Before I grew suspicious of You Qiaolin, and even after, he remained an excellent police officer in my eyes: conscientious, diligent, and tireless. Yet he was misled by such a licentious woman. It wasn't his fault; it was hers.

Pushing open the heavy glass door, a faint perfume wafted out, accompanied by soft, distant music. Master Liu clearly hadn't been to a place like this; he nearly slipped and fell upon entering because the floor was too slick.

I looked around somewhat guiltily. My departure last time had been quite impolite, and I might have offended the proprietress. Thankfully, I didn't see her, so Master Liu and I found a secluded spot, ordered a bottle of vodka, and requested a few plates of duck tongues and other items.

Master Liu was visibly nervous, sitting stiffly like a telephone pole, as if relaxing his body might cause him to be dragged away by something.

I raised my glass, "Here, Master Liu, a toast to you."

Master Liu leaned in, his eyes fixed on the foreign characters printed on the vodka bottle, and asked quietly, "How much is a bottle of this?"

"Tens of yuan."

"Oh, good, good. Come, let's have a drink." He finished his glass in one gulp, showing surprising heartiness.

As for me, there was no need to say more. I downed glass after glass, just wanting to get drunk quickly and have Master Liu take me home. But I knew I couldn't go to my own house; I’d have to settle for just any hotel.

Just then, Master Liu winked at me. I asked, "What is it? Do you need to use the facilities, or is something else up?"

Master Liu's movements were not as philosophical as his words. He awkwardly stuck his backside out and stretched his neck forward like a giraffe, whispering close to my ear, "There’s a woman over there looking at you."

I wondered if it was Zhao Shiya. Since she treated me last time, I should probably offer a greeting. I turned my head, but upon seeing the woman, I froze. It wasn't Zhao Shiya; it was the other formidable woman I least wanted to see—Zhang Hemei.

"What? Officer, you don't recognize me at a glance? You certainly left in a hurry last time. I didn't expect you to come back." Zhang Hemei sat lazily opposite me, holding a tall glass of red wine, her exposed body shamelessly pressed tight against Master Liu's left side, frightening him so much he nearly burst into tears on the spot.

Master Liu sprang up like a coiled spring: "Uh, well, um, ah, Officer, you two... please, take your time chatting. I need to get back to driving. I'll be going now."

After stammering out those few words, Master Liu was already five paces away. In the next blink, all that remained was the gentle sway of the bar's main door.

I was deeply irritated, and I held no favorable impression of the woman before me. I sat there coldly, slowly sipping my drink alone, treating the exquisitely beautiful woman opposite me as if she were a ninety-year-old crone covered in wrinkles, or perhaps Old Aunt Wang who scavenged for trash outside the neighborhood gate.

I even imagined her as a man, a woman more venomous than any man.

"Officer Wang seems prejudiced against me, doesn't she?"

I gave no answer, staring at other things.

"Heh heh, I know. You must blame me. It couldn't be about Qiaolin, could it?"

Zhang Hemei possessed sharp analytical skills, and her words were highly provocative, forcing one's thoughts to follow her lead. I suspect this is how You Qiaolin fell into her trap.

"Actually, I never expected any serious outcome with Qiaolin. He loves someone else, someone I can never replace. I only hoped to stay by his side, to comfort him when he was lonely. Do you think I did wrong?" Zhang Hemei's voice was soft and fleeting, yet every word drilled into my ears, transforming into a cascade of sorrow and wistful melancholy settling in my heart.

I sighed, offering a bitter smile, "You've misunderstood, but we can certainly share a drink."

A woman wounded by love is always worthy of sympathy, for women are born the weaker sex, always hurt by men. No matter how debauched Zhang Hemei might seem, when it came to You Qiaolin, she was certainly not the one inflicting the wound.

A woman heartbroken and a man who has lost his love—they make a marvelous pairing. Sadness began to spread, and the two of us started talking more and more.

After several drinks, Zhang Hemei suddenly said, "You're a police officer; you must have handled many cases. Can you tell me one?"

I casually replied, "Forensic Doctor You has handled many cases too. Didn't he ever tell you about them?"

Zhang Hemei pouted. "He’s an old-fashioned man; he never discusses work with me. Tell me an interesting one, please?"

I had come here today mainly to numb my nerves, so I truly didn't want to dwell on complicated cases. I replied, "Ah, Miss Zhang, cases are all bloody; they are not only uninteresting but can make one wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I think it's better not to talk about them."

Zhang Hemei seemed surprised by my refusal, pausing briefly before regaining her composure. She said, "Fine. Then I'll tell you a story. It’s bloody too, but very interesting."

Looking at her excited expression, I began to understand why she had become the way she was. Many people hide their inner desires in daily life, adhering to social norms, but once life forces them to a dead end, their true nature is completely exposed.

For example, some people who appear brave and strong on the surface are actually fragile inside; they must be strong to survive. Once life pushes them to the brink, they surrender completely, becoming vulnerable prey. Conversely, some people who seem frail and timid normally might, at a critical moment of life and death, reveal their true character—they would stab even the Heavenly Emperor or the Jade Emperor a few times before dying in peace.

Zhang Hemei was undoubtedly the type whose core was filled with wildness, but life had dressed her up as a traditionally virtuous woman. Once her emotions were pushed to the edge, she would unleash that deep-seated wildness, becoming a runaway mare. This was why I found her here.

Zhang Hemei took a sip of wine and said, "It’s too noisy here. Let's move to a private room."

And so, I vaguely followed her into the room. When the door cut off the noise, Zhang Hemei began to recount her story:

In a small southern city, there was a high school boy whose academic results were exceptional. Everyone assumed getting into university was a sure thing for him. However, his family was very poor and simply couldn't afford to send him to college. So, during the first half of his senior year, the student planned to drop out and go work elsewhere.

Because of his poverty, the student was deeply insecure and had no friends at school. He didn't show up for several days, and no one knew what happened. His teacher found it strange, but the curriculum for the final year was already heavy, and he often stayed away for a few days to do odd jobs, so they didn't pay much attention.

It wasn't until ten days later that the teacher realized something was wrong. A student representative was sent to his home to inquire, and only then did they learn the situation. This representative was a girl from a well-off family who secretly admired the poor but brilliant boy. She immediately took out all her savings, pleaded with the boy to attend university, and promised to sponsor him continuously.

The boy did not disappoint the girl's expectations and eventually enrolled in the most famous university in the country. The girl, as promised, kept sending him money. The boy was deeply moved by her actions, vowing never to marry anyone else and to achieve success so that the girl could live a happy and comfortable life.

Hearing this, I felt perplexed and interrupted, "This is clearly a love story; what does it have to do with a criminal case?"

Zhang Hemei smiled faintly, "Don't rush; the good part is coming. This is just a prelude."