Feng Yulan remembered Officer Li's tired eyes and businesslike tone, and suddenly felt unsure whether calling the police was wise. She rested her forehead against the cold car window, trying to soothe the dizziness brought on by the cooling oil.
Outside the window, gray clouds hung low, foreshadowing the coming of a rainstorm.
"Go get some sleep." Zhang Shumin's voice softened, a rare occurrence. "I'll call you when we get to the station."
Feng Yulan wanted to say that she couldn't sleep, but the tension and fatigue of the past few days came flooding back like a tide.
She drifted into a half-awake state, dreaming that she was standing in an abandoned factory, with a winding trail of blood on the ground, extending into the depths of darkness...
"Wake up!"
Feng Yulan suddenly woke up and found Zhang Shumin shaking her shoulders vigorously. The light in the carriage was dim, and outside the window was pouring rain, the raindrops hitting the roof like drums.
Most of the other passengers were sleeping, with only a few young people in the front row chatting in low voices.
"What's wrong?" Feng Yulan asked while rubbing her sore neck.
Zhang Shumin leaned close to her ear and said, "The driver said there's a landslide ahead and they're changing routes. We have to get off at the next town."
Feng Yulan suddenly woke up: "And then?"
"Let's find a place to stay for the night." Zhang Shumin glanced around the train. "I have a feeling there are still some of their people on this train."
Feng Yulan followed her gaze and found a man in a baseball cap sitting in the third row from the back. He had been looking down at his cell phone since the start of the train, and his posture had hardly changed.
This is indeed suspicious - who can play with their phone for three hours straight on a mountain road with intermittent signal?
Twenty minutes later, the bus pulled up to a simple, rural bus stop. The rain was getting heavier, and the bus stop sign was blurred into a gray silhouette in the rain.
As expected, the man in the baseball cap got out of the car, stood under the eaves and lit a cigarette, his eyes occasionally glancing at the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law who were picking up their luggage.
"Don't look at him." Zhang Shumin stuffed the black handbag into Feng Yulan's hand. "I'm going to the bathroom. You wait in a conspicuous place."
Feng Yulan wanted to protest this dangerous arrangement, but Zhang Shumin had already walked quickly towards the public toilet on the side of the station.
She had no choice but to stand at the baggage claim area, feeling the gaze of the man in the baseball cap crawling on her back like a spider.
Five minutes later, Zhang Shumin still hadn't returned. The man in the baseball cap threw away his third cigarette and began walking toward Feng Yulan. Her heart was beating so fast it threatened to burst out of her chest, and her fingers unconsciously reached for the fruit knife in her bag.
"Big sister," the man in the peaked cap said, his voice surprisingly youthful, "can you lend me a light?"
Feng Yulan shook her head: "I don't smoke."
The man smiled and suddenly lowered his voice: "Old Jin asked me to say hello to you."
Feng Yulan's blood froze instantly. She took a step back, her back hitting the cold wall.
The man took something out of his pocket - it was a mobile phone, and a photo was displayed on the screen: Zhang Shuo was tied to a chair, his face covered in blood.
"If you want him to live, just follow me." The man put away his phone. "Otherwise, the next photo you take will be of his corpse."
Feng Yulan's vision blurred. She couldn't tell if it was the rain or the tears that clouded her eyes. Zhang Shuo, however wicked, was still her husband, and that bloody face of his awakened some long-buried emotion in her.
"I..." She started to speak, but was interrupted by the screeching sound of brakes.
A motorcycle suddenly stopped in front of the station. The rider, wearing a full-face helmet, made a strange gesture to the man in the baseball cap.
The man's face suddenly changed, and he turned and ran. The motorcyclist lifted his mask—it was Zhang Shumin! She had gotten the motorbike from nowhere, and now she was glaring fiercely at the fleeing figure.
"Come up!" she shouted at Feng Yulan.
Feng Yulan stumbled over and climbed onto the back seat. The motorcycle started up crookedly in the rain, splashing mud and water.
She hugged Zhang Shumin's waist tightly, turned around and saw the man in the baseball cap standing in the rain, yelling something into the phone.
"Hold on tight!" Zhang Shumin's voice came out muffled from the helmet.
The motorcycle rushed into a narrow alley, turned several times, and stopped in front of a small hotel called "Yingbin". The neon sign was missing a few strokes and flickered in the rain.
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