Praise is honey, denial is arsenic
At three o'clock on Monday afternoon, I sat in my study on time, with a book on flower arrangement spread out in front of me, but my mind was completely focused on the text message I had just received.
"The response to the column has exceeded expectations! The editor-in-chief would like to invite you to write a series. You can choose the topic. See you at the usual place?"
The accurate text message made my heart beat faster. A series of articles means a more stable voice channel, but also means greater risks.
"Tomorrow at 2pm." I replied quickly and deleted the message.
Just as I was about to continue revising my next column, the study door opened. Gu Yanshen walked in carrying some fruit, and I subconsciously closed my notebook.
"What are you busy with?" He put the fruit plate on the table and glanced at the closed computer.
"I'm preparing my lecture notes for next week's flower arrangement class," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Mr. Nakamura explained that this time he would be discussing the history of flower arrangement.
He nodded, but his fingers accidentally opened the lid of his computer. The screen lit up, revealing my document, "Control in the Name of Love."
Time seemed to stand still.
"What is this?" His voice was still gentle, but his eyes suddenly turned cold.
My blood froze. "It's...it's my reading notes," I said, forcing myself to remain calm. "I've been reading a psychology book lately."
He leaned in to take a closer look, and I could almost hear my heartbeat. Luckily, I had encrypted the file, so he could only see the title, not the specific content.
"Control..." He pondered the word, sliding his finger across the touchpad. "Interesting topic."
Just when I thought he was going to get into it, he straightened up and ruffled my hair: "My little fish is getting deeper and deeper. But..."
He paused, his eyes piercing. "Don't let these messed-up theories cloud your judgment. I'm the only one in this world who understands you best, and I know what's best for you."
After he left, I slumped in my chair, my back soaking wet. It had been a close call.
The next day, I arrived at the cafe half an hour early. Shen Que was already there, his face solemn.
"What happened?"
He pushed a newspaper over: "Someone is asking about the true identity of 'Mockingbird'."
I took the newspaper and found a commentary on the "Mockingbird" column, in which the author questioned whether there was a real story behind this pseudonym.
"Could it be Gu Yanshen?"
"Not likely." Shen Que shook his head. "He's a freelance writer, probably looking for exclusives."
I felt a little relieved and handed him the new manuscript. This time I wrote "The Price of Tenderness", which tells the story of how to maintain one's self in an intimate relationship.
"This one might cause a bigger reaction," Shen Que said after a quick glance. "You should be mentally prepared."
After we agreed on the time and place for our next meeting, I was about to leave. Just then, the doorbell of the cafe rang, and it was Gu Yanshen's assistant Zhou Ling who walked in.
I quickly turned my back, my heart pounding like a drum.
"What's wrong?" Shen Que noticed my abnormality.
"Gu Yanshen's assistant." I whispered, "We can't let him see us together."
Shen Li immediately understood: "Go through the back door."
I grabbed my bag and pretended to go to the restroom, but actually slipped out the back door. At the alley entrance, I looked back and saw Zhou Ling was taking orders at the front desk and didn't seem to notice me.
But this luck was completely shattered when I returned home.
Gu Yanshen sat on the sofa in the living room with a tea set in front of him. He rarely came home at this time.
"Where have you been today?" He poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of me.
"I'm going to the library to look up information," I replied as planned. "My flower arranging class is going to cover the history of Chinese flower arrangement, so I need to supplement my knowledge."
He nodded and took a sip of tea. "I was wondering if you were too tired. You've seemed restless lately."
"I am fine."
"Really?" He put down his teacup. "Zhou Ling saw someone in a coffee shop in the east of the city this afternoon. They looked a lot like you."
My fingers trembled slightly. "You're mistaken. I went to the city library."
He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly laughed: "Yes, why would you go to a place like that?"
I thought the crisis was over, but I didn't expect he had a backup plan.
"By the way," he said casually, "your mother just called and said the nursing home needs to update their records and needs a copy of your diploma. I remember it's in the safe in the study?"
My heart sank. In the safe, besides my diploma, there was also that old cell phone.
"Let's look for it tomorrow," I tried to delay. "I'm a little tired."
"Look for it now," he said in a gentle but unyielding voice, "before you forget."
I walked towards the study, and he followed me. My hands were shaking as I opened the safe. My diploma was right on top, and the box containing my old phone had clearly been tampered with.
"Found it." I took out my diploma and quickly closed the safe.
He took the diploma, but his eyes lingered on the safe: "Do you want to sort out the things in that box?"
"No thanks," I said, trying to remain calm. "They're just old things."
That night, I couldn't sleep. The old phone had been touched, which meant Gu Yanshen had probably found it. He was testing me, like a cat and mouse.
The next day, I went to see my mother under the pretext of delivering my diploma, but in reality I was looking for an opportunity to inform Chen Que to stop contacting me. But at the entrance of the nursing home, I met someone I hadn't expected.
A strange man wearing glasses stopped me and said, "Ms. Mo? I'm a reporter from Metropolis Weekly. I'd like to talk to you about my Mockingbird column..."
My face suddenly changed: "You got the wrong person."
"We have a reliable source," he handed over his card, "who proves you are Mockingbird."
I pushed his hand away and hurried away, my heart pounding like it was about to burst out of my chest. Who had revealed my identity?
When I saw my mother, she immediately noticed my uneasy state.
"Did you have a conflict with Yan Shen?" she asked with concern.
"No." I forced a smile. "Just a little tired."
"Yan Shen is a good child," the mother began to talk in the same old way, "You must learn to cherish him."
I looked at her relieved expression and suddenly realized something: "Mom, did a reporter come to see you?"
She was stunned for a moment. "Yes, there was one. He asked some strange questions. I told him my daughter was doing well and asked him not to write nonsense."
My vision went dark. I finally understood how the reporter had found me.
When I got home, I immediately sent a warning text message to Shen Que using my old phone, but found that the phone could not be turned on - the battery had been removed.
This is not something I did.
The only explanation is that Gu Yanshen had already discovered the phone, removed the battery to prevent me from using it, and then put it back in its original place as a test.
I was caught in a dilemma: if I continued to use the phone, I would fall into his trap; if I didn't, I wouldn't be able to notify Shen of the approaching danger.
Late at night, I looked out the window at the night and for the first time, I felt real fear. Gu Yanshen had already laid a tight net, and that reporter was like a time bomb.
Just when I was at a loss, the cloud jumped onto the windowsill, and the indicator light on the collar flashed abnormally again. This time, I saw clearly that the flashing frequency seemed to be transmitting some kind of Morse code.
A crazy thought flashed through my mind: Could it be that this collar is not only a tool for monitoring me, but also someone is sending me a message?
I gently removed the collar and examined it carefully under the light. Inside the collar, I found a very thinly rolled piece of paper.
"Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, fire escape. Be careful of reporters. - Shen"
The collar slipped from my hand, bounced twice on the ground, and the indicator light returned to normal.
It turns out I'm not just being watched, I'm also under siege. But can I trust this ally?
Tomorrow at ten o'clock, fire escape. This is an opportunity, or it could be a trap.
Should I go?
Praise is honey, denial is arsenic
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