Chapter 71 Can you help me?
A brief sandstorm swept through half an hour ago, and after it passed, everything was covered with a thin layer of yellowish-brown dust. Beneath the dust, a yellowish-brown village road snaked through the silent village like a snake.
The surface was covered with a thicker layer of loose soil, and when the wind occasionally swept by, it would stir up fine dust.
A few earthen houses were scattered about, silent as a mystery. A small yellow dog darted out from a path, circled around a corner, and came to a screeching halt in front of a square mud house.
Its tail wagged like a propeller, and it pawed anxiously at the threshold of the gate with its front paws, making a whimpering sound from its throat that was a mixture of pleading and excitement.
"Woof woof woof!"
After a few barks, the two dark wooden doors finally creaked open from the inside. An old man stepped out. He was bald except for a ring of white hair around his head, and wore a thick, bulky dark blue cotton-padded coat and black trousers, the stand-up collar squeezing his chin. He carried a porcelain bowl and walked slowly to the chipped, greasy dog bowl, then stopped.
The little yellow dog paced anxiously around his feet, its four paws digging into the ground, wanting to rush forward but holding back, only daring to whine and whimper from its nose to urge him on.
The old man straightened up and habitually kicked the dog bowl. The bowl made a crisp "clang" sound, and the little yellow dog immediately pounced on it, burying its head in the bowl and making excited "glug glug" swallowing sounds.
As soon as the door latch was on and the old man turned around, he saw his niece-in-law coming out of the room opposite him. She closed the door and, as she turned to the side, saw the old man and instinctively lowered her head to avoid him.
"Uncle," she called out, her voice tinged with timidity.
My nephew beat his wife again last night; her screams were so loud that the neighbors could hear them. Her face is a terrible mess today, covered in bruises and swelling, with her left eyelid so red and swollen that only a slit remains between it and her lower eyelid.
The old man grunted an "hmm" in response.
The old man looked over when he heard the sound.
The old woman came out of the kitchen, lifted her apron to wipe her hands, and said, "Old Lu, time to chop the rice."
The mud houses in this courtyard house were built by two families together. Including two kitchens, there are a total of eight rooms. Four rooms are lined up on the north side, and two smaller rooms are built on the east and west sides, enclosing the courtyard like arms.
The two families each occupied one end of the house and had their own kitchen. They saw each other all the time and, being the eldest and second eldest brothers, maintained close contact.
The niece-in-law went into the kitchen to prepare lunch for her parents, who were working in the fields and would be returning soon.
Old Lu's gaze fell into the dark kitchen and landed on his niece-in-law's back as she stood in front of the stove, washing the pot with a withered gourd vine.
The hunched back made the black cotton coat on her upper body look like a small mountain.
After staring for several seconds, Lao Lu awkwardly turned halfway around and walked towards the old woman without saying a word, enduring her cloudy gaze.
For lunch, we ate the leftovers from last night: stir-fried minced meat with pickled vegetables and cabbage soup. The two of us sat facing each other at the octagonal table, focused only on eating our rice, without exchanging a single word.
Old Lu finished eating, put down his chopsticks, and with some unchewed rice grains still in his mouth, he said to the old woman while chewing, "Did you finish Lao Ban's rice?"
Two grains of rice popped out from the gap in his missing tooth and fell onto the wooden table. Old Lu picked them up and stuffed them back into his mouth.
The old woman looked up and replied, "It's all done. I'll cut it up and send it to Yi."
The "old man" the elderly couple were referring to was Chen Jiashu, who had arrived here five days earlier.
They were brought by their two sons in the middle of the night. They said that the boss who killed Gu Ming was the one who was brought here. The eldest son repeatedly told them to keep an eye on him, not to let him run away, and not to let him starve to death, otherwise they would lose their lives and no one would take care of them in their old age.
This boss was not only blind but also deaf, so where could he have gone? The old couple not only gave him food and drink, but sometimes when he reached the door, they would bring him a stool so he could sit outside and bask in the sun.
They couldn't quite explain why; perhaps it was because they felt sorry for him. Even though he had killed their son, the couple couldn't bring themselves to hate him. Or perhaps it was because, despite his young age, he possessed a kind of authority reminiscent of a village chief, making people afraid to offend him.
The old woman carried a full bowl of food into the room. The boss was sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets with both hands, his lifeless eyes staring straight ahead, unaware of her arrival.
The rice bowl was placed on the table. The old woman walked over and patted him on the shoulder: "Time to cut the rice."
The black cotton-padded coat the man wore when he arrived had been changed and washed. The faded dark blue coat, black cotton trousers, and black cotton shoes he was wearing now all belonged to his eldest son, Lu Tao.
Her skin is really fair; city people are definitely different.
The old man came in three times a day, each time to bring food. Chen Jiashu stood up and walked towards the eight-immortal table in the center of the room.
He "accidentally" bumped into the bench next to the table once again.
He did it on purpose. For the past few days, he's been pretending to be completely blind to lower their guard.
Chen Jiashu bent down, reached down and groped around to grab the edge of the stool, pulled it out, and then went around to sit down.
He fumbled around on the table for a couple of seconds before finding the chopsticks. He lowered his head so much that his nose almost touched the food, but he didn't seem to care, just shoveling rice and dishes into his mouth quickly. Even though the rice was cooked like porridge and the dishes were so salty they tasted bitter, he still ate every last bite.
Only when you're well-fed will you have the strength to escape.
During his five days here, relying on his remaining 0.02 vision, Chen Jiashu discovered that this family would go out after lunch and stay for two or three hours at a time.
To verify this pattern, he would knock on each door one by one after they left. Yesterday, he even managed to reach the front door.
There was a small dog outside the door, circling around his feet.
This road outside doesn't seem to be the main road; there's hardly anyone in sight. Looking into the distance, all he sees is a vast expanse of yellowish-brown earth. He mentally conjures up images of a backward mountain village with sandy roads and mud houses.
Whether it's a town or a village, as long as he encounters someone, he might be saved.
*
Police retrieved a massive amount of surveillance footage from the area surrounding Chen Jiashu's disappearance over nearly thirty days. After three days of tireless screening, a suspicious vehicle finally surfaced. The tracking signal headed west, crossing provincial borders, pointing directly to Xicheng Province.
Because cross-provincial investigations require reporting procedures, another day was lost. After obtaining authorization, the police continued to track the vehicle's route, but when the vehicle reached an area called "Diping Town," the trail went cold due to the lack of surveillance cameras ahead. The investigation had to be changed to a thorough search of the surrounding towns and villages.
Meanwhile, another team of police officers investigating the case meticulously unraveled the mystery and finally identified the driver. This morning at 10:00 AM, a small team headed straight for Q City in Xicheng Province.
That same morning, Qin Qiao had just gotten off the plane and was walking on the jet bridge leading to the exit when her phone rang. She paused, and Tian Jiayue and Chen Cheng stopped as well, turning to look at her.
Good news came over the phone. Qin Qiao's arm holding the phone trembled slightly, tears welled up in her eyes, and the tears streamed down her upturned lips.
"Thank you, thank you," Qin Qiao said repeatedly.
Tian Jiayue's heart tightened, and she rushed forward to ask, "Have you found your brother?"
Qin Qiao: "Go to Wanping Village, Jiashu is there!"
The three of them left the airport and got into a taxi.
After Qin Qiao gave the address, the young driver looked embarrassed. Business was tough these days, and he wanted to earn the money too, so he tried saying:
“It’s about 170 or 180 kilometers to get there, and the place is very remote with difficult mountain roads. We’ll definitely be driving empty back. So, would it be okay if you paid half the return trip fare?”
A payment code was hanging on the back of the seat. Qin Qiao took out her phone, scanned the code, and paid in one smooth motion.
The voice announced that 1,000 yuan had been deposited into the account.
Is that enough?
The driver's face lit up with joy: "Enough, enough!"
The car sped along the highway for about thirty minutes before exiting the tollbooth. The smooth asphalt road gradually turned into a concrete road, and then into a bumpy dirt road.
The wheels rolled over the potholes scattered on the ground, causing the car to bounce and the four people inside to rise and fall with it. Tian Jiayue, sitting in the back seat, lost her balance several times and accidentally bumped into Chen Cheng next to her. Each time she hurriedly stepped back, she pressed herself tightly against the car door, a faint blush rising to her ears.
At 11:40 a.m., the taxi stopped at the entrance of the village. The driver turned around and said to them, "Outside vehicles are not allowed to enter this village. You can get off here."
Chen Cheng asked, "Are there many families in this village?"
“Twenty or thirty households, about a hundred people.” The driver thought for a moment, glanced at the three of them, and then looked back at Tian Jiayue, giving her a kind piece of advice: “The locals all know that this village is very chaotic, you... don’t disperse.”
The three got out of the car one after the other, and the taxi drove away behind them.
Along the way, Qin Qiao had wanted to cry several times, but she held back. The wind, carrying sand and gravel, made her eyes hurt and itch, and tears streamed down her face.
Looking at the two tearful people, Chen Cheng felt heavy-hearted. Chen Jiashu was not only his mentor but also his guide in business. Every time they met, Chen Jiashu would treat him like a friend in a humorous and equal tone, sharing his personal experience in a lighthearted conversation, from strategic planning to the methods of judging people and situations, all with sincerity.
Mr. Chen, please stay safe. Chen Cheng prayed silently.
A main road, four or five meters wide and covered with yellow sand, lay before us. There were sparse houses along the road, and many pedestrians came and went.
The wind and sand were strong, and the dark-skinned women all wrapped their heads and faces with headscarves, carrying tools for working in the fields.
Whether it was my imagination or not, every woman who brushed past them seemed to have a faint hint of hatred in her eyes.
The men, whether young or old, lingered on Qin Qiao and Tian Jiayue with undisguised longing, even a hint of excitement, as if they were seeing not two women, but... a delicious meal delivered to their doorstep.
Tian Jiayue was startled by the thought that popped into her head and subconsciously looked at Qin Qiao. She saw that Qin Qiao's chin was slightly tucked in, her face was as cold as frost, and she walked steadily forward without looking to the side, seemingly oblivious to everything around her.
Chen Cheng remembered the driver's words. He stepped forward and shielded Tian Jiayue and Qin Qiao behind him with his body, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a gloomy expression, coldly confronting those malicious gazes.
Chen Cheng's intimidation worked. Under his piercing gaze, those people all retreated.
They stopped in front of a run-down little shop. Chen Cheng went in to buy water and inquired about where the family named Lu Jianguo lived.
The shopkeeper was a man with a thick beard, but his skin was smooth and shiny. He looked to be no more than forty or fifty years old. He probably had Parkinson's disease, as he couldn't help shaking his head.
The shop owner placed three bottles of mineral water on the glass counter, his brown, sharp eyes scrutinizing the travel-worn Chen Cheng, and coldly asked, "What do you want with Lu Jianguo?"
After getting the address, the three immediately set off for Lu Jian's country. No one noticed that outside the shop, Chen Jiashu was using a wooden stick to slowly move along the rough wall.
He groped his way along the wall and turned into the house, tapping his stick on the threshold at his feet. He raised his hand to probe the air, making sure the door was open, then stepped over the threshold and walked deeper into the house.
The room was dimly lit, and Chen Jiashu's last glimmer of light had vanished. He gesticulated with his left arm as he softly called out, "Is anyone there?"
Hearing the commotion, the shop owner came out from the inner room, with two grains of rice still stuck to his beard. He looked at the fair-skinned, slender, and tall man in front of him, who looked dignified but was blind.
The man continued walking in, the wooden stick striking the ground with a "thump-thump" sound.
"Is anyone there?" the man asked in a low voice, with a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
His fair, slender hand touched the counter, and he suddenly stopped, stroking the surface with his fingers as if trying to identify what the object was.
It was cold and hard, like a piece of glass. Chen Jiashu couldn't piece together the shape of the object in his mind, nor could he imagine the layout of the room.
The aroma of steaming food wafted from directly in front of Chen Jiashu, confirming that the house was indeed inhabited.
Upon receiving this confirmation, Chen Jiashu raised his voice: "Is anyone there! I've been kidnapped! Can you help me!"
The clear, melodious cry for help sounded particularly abrupt in the small shop. The shop owner's expression changed, and he subconsciously glanced towards the door. Many people from their village went out in the afternoon, and everyone passing by was a familiar face. Seeing that the three hadn't returned, the shop owner felt a slight sense of relief.
A warm breeze seemed to brush against his face. Chen Jiashu felt someone walk past him. He turned his head slightly and realized he had forgotten to throw out the most crucial information. He opened his mouth again and whispered, "I can't see or hear. Can you help me?"
He didn't know that the man standing at the door clasped his hands together, pulled the door shut, and even bolted it.
Picking up the iron bar leaning against the wall, the man walked behind him, swung his arm, and smashed the bar down on the back of his head.
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