chapter 13

After making it through the night, Ning Qiuyan slept through the morning and had almost fully recovered his energy.

When he woke up, he played a newly downloaded game for a while, then got dressed and left his room. As he passed the staircase, he glanced upward.

The third floor was utterly silent, not even the corridor lights were on.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ning Qiuyan decided not to go upstairs.

He headed downstairs and ran into a Servant cleaning.

The Servant was holding a silk handkerchief, carefully and slowly wiping a large floor vase placed in the corridor, moving quietly and soundlessly.

When the Servant saw Ning Qiuyan, they nodded to him politely.

The corridor was deep and led to every shadowy corner of this building.

It was another daytime on Du Island as quiet as the night.

Ning Qiuyan stepped outside, greeted by a world of pure white.

He walked a circle around the house, looked up, and found the window of his own room. Looking further up, he saw the third floor where Guan Heng stayed.

All the windows on the third floor were covered by curtains.

Ning Qiuyan didn’t have a good sense of direction and couldn’t tell which room was the one where they had put together the puzzle last night.

He had no way of knowing in which dim room Guan Heng was sleeping.

Guan Heng slept during the day and woke at night.

His sleep was so light that the entire building seemed to adjust to his schedule.

Ning Qiuyan had nothing to do, but he didn’t feel bored at all. The puzzle from last night seemed to have eased his restlessness. He had planned to walk by the lake, but as he passed a small clearing in the Forest, he ran into a Servant drying wild mushrooms.

This was the first time Ning Qiuyan had met someone from the kitchen.

The wild mushrooms being dried were the same ones he had eaten last night-delicious and fresh. He hadn’t expected that kind of mushroom to be native to Du Island.

Each plump mushroom cap was patiently hung on a thin string by the Servant, as if crafting some exquisite piece of art.

Although there was no sunlight, the area was well-ventilated, so the mushrooms would soon be air-dried for preservation.

Ning Qiuyan stood there watching for quite a while.

The Servant only noticed him when they turned around.

Ning Qiuyan, wearing a knitted hat and wrapped in a thick scarf, had a small, gentle face-an appearance that easily inspired goodwill.

He asked the Servant if these were the same mushrooms he had eaten last night.

They chatted for a bit, and the Servant told him that all the food on Du Island was prepared by an old lady named Granny Bai. But Granny Bai’s favorite place was the kitchen, and she didn’t like to come out, which was why Ning Qiuyan had never seen her here.

There were probably more people on the island that Ning Qiuyan hadn’t met, and many places he hadn’t visited yet.

Suddenly, Ning Qiuyan remembered that Uncle Kang had once told him about the livestock farm.

He’d heard that they raised cows, sheep, deer, and other animals there.

He wanted to visit the farm, so he asked for directions.

“The road is easy to find, there’s only one,” the Servant said, then reminded him, “But it’s four or five kilometers from here. If you don’t want to walk, you can ask Uncle Kang to send a driver to take you.”

Four or five kilometers wasn’t too far.

Ning Qiuyan had the whole afternoon to spend as he pleased.

He didn’t want to trouble anyone, so after saying goodbye, he followed the route the Servant had pointed out.

There were few people on the island, and it was still undeveloped, so the small path near the main road wasn’t easy to find.

Ning Qiuyan spent some time before he finally found the path.

The snow was deep, but fortunately, there were traces left by carts on the road, and streetlights along the way to light the path for those who only became active at night on the island.

Following the line of streetlights, Ning Qiuyan walked for over an hour, encountering two or three squirrels and a deer with beautiful antlers along the way.

Just as he began to doubt if he had taken the wrong path, he saw the livestock farm among the trees.

It was a cluster of houses beside a low hill.

The grounds were quite large, fenced in with logs. In the center were piles of hay, with several cows and sheep munching on grass. A newborn lamb was trembling as it nursed beneath its mother.

Slightly out of breath and sweating from the walk, Ning Qiuyan stood outside the fence for a few minutes.

It was a beautiful scene.

He took out his phone and snapped a few photos. When the lamb finished nursing, he walked along the outside of the fence to the other side.
The wooden shed housed deer, and the space was just as spacious. They leisurely grazed on the dry grass on the ground, oblivious to the presence of outside visitors.

Ning Qiuyan also saw some poultry here, eggs in the haystack, and a small patch of vegetable garden frozen solid.

But he saw no people.

Perhaps the workers of the farm had gone to labor elsewhere.

At last, Ning Qiuyan discovered the slaughterhouse.

It was a room of about forty to fifty square meters, equipped with hinges, cutting tables, and an array of iron hooks, sharp knives, cleavers, and other tools, all displayed in neat rows inside.

Despite being kept very clean, bloodstains accumulated on the tables and floor over the years remained clearly visible.

A faint scent of blood lingered in the air.

Hanging on the wall was a cow split in half from its belly. It may have struggled before death; its pair of cold, wide-open eyes stared blankly.

Ning Qiuyan felt unwell and a bit nauseous.

He took a few steps back, almost knocking over a bucket placed in the corner.

Inside was a half-filled bucket of blood-he couldn’t tell if it was from the cow or something else. His heel hit it, causing the blood to slosh inside and a few drops to splatter on the floor.

A sudden image appeared in Ning Qiuyan’s mind.

Guan Heng, wearing a bathrobe, sat there with a lazy expression, holding a glass brimming with vivid red liquid.

His long hair draped over his shoulders, head lowered, lashes half-lowered, he gently took a sip from the glass.

Then he lifted his gaze, and a hint of deep red shimmered in the center of his pupils.

Ning Qiuyan’s heart raced violently.

He didn’t want to stay here. He turned and walked out.

This time, as he passed the livestock-cattle and sheep brimming with vitality and heat-he didn’t look back at them.

He hadn’t gone far when he ran into someone head-on.

He froze.

It was the boy he had met on the boat the first time he came to Du Island.

A month had passed, but the other’s expression was no different from before-still carrying that air of ‘strangers keep away.’

The Boy was pushing a cart full of hay, dressed like a farmer. The handcuffs on his wrist were gone, and he seemed to have gotten used to life here.

So, had he been brought here in that truck?

Did this count as forced illegal labor?

Their last encounter on the boat hadn’t been pleasant, and Ning Qiuyan didn’t expect the Boy to pay him any attention.

The path was narrow. As the other passed with the cart, Ning Qiuyan instinctively stepped aside and heard, “You’re here again.”

Ning Qiuyan was surprised.

His first thought was-so he’s not mute after all.

The Boy stopped in front of Ning Qiuyan.

It was just the two of them here, so it was obvious he was speaking to Ning Qiuyan.

Ning Qiuyan had returned to Du Island.

This was all part of the plan, so there was nothing strange about it. He only replied, “Mm.”

The Boy stood there, expressionless. “Sorry for getting you hurt on the boat last time.”

Now Ning Qiuyan felt embarrassed about keeping a straight face; he wasn’t someone who held grudges.

Since the other had apologized, he forgave him. “It’s okay, I’m fine now.”

“On Du Island, wounds heal very quickly. No matter how bad the injury, as long as they don’t want you dead, you’ll recover.” The Boy seemed to be explaining or hinting at something. “So you shouldn’t have come to the island wounded.”

Ning Qiuyan was startled and pressed, “Why?”

But the Boy fell silent.

Ning Qiuyan’s thoughts swirled. He remembered the wound on his own palm, and that young worker who had been gored in the waist by a deer antler.

Those injuries were so severe, yet Dr. Ling had said the person would be fine. If what the Boy said was true, would the worker’s wound disappear just like the cut on his palm?

How could something so unscientific be possible?

The two stood in silence.

It looked like the Boy wouldn’t say another word.

An awkward pause ensued.

Ning Qiuyan changed the topic: “Are you working here?”

“Two years,” the Boy said. “I’ll only stay here for two years.”

Ning Qiuyan: “…Oh.”

The other probably signed some kind of agreement, just like him.

Still expressionless, the Boy said, “My name is Guan Ziming.”
After speaking, he pushed his bike and left.

Ning Qiuyan was left standing there for quite a while before he realized that the other boy was responding to what he had said on the boat last time: “Hello, my name is Ning Qiuyan.”

But wasn’t it a coincidence that this boy’s surname was also Guan? Could he be somehow related to Guan Heng?

*

On the way back, Ning Qiuyan was distracted the whole time.

About Du Island, about Guan Heng-perhaps he had already vaguely sensed something, but he couldn’t put it into words at all.

The things he had found when he searched the forum after posting last time, now that he thought about them again, seemed to have some connection to everything here.

But whenever he thought of the people on Du Island, thought of Guan Heng, he felt those wild speculations were very far away.

Guan Heng made him afraid.

Yet also gave him a very strong sense of security.

That complicated feeling formed a strange sensation, making it impossible for Ning Qiuyan to break free, as if he had fallen into a net he didn’t want to escape from.

Standing in the Forest, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He didn’t know when, but he had already strayed from the path leading back to the main road.

The Forest was so vast it seemed endless.

Towering fir trees reaching into the clouds, withered shrubs, and the distant coastline.

Ning Qiuyan had unexpectedly gotten lost.

He tried walking in several directions, but couldn’t find his way back to the path, nor could he locate the farm again. He took out his phone-the compass worked, but he couldn’t remember whether the mansion was to the north or south.

The sky was gradually growing dark.

Ning Qiuyan discovered an abandoned white lighthouse.

He was already surprisingly close to the sea.

His phone still had thirty percent battery. Using its flashlight, he walked up to the lighthouse.

He pushed open the door, and the dust that greeted him made him cough uncontrollably.

There were some electronic devices inside the lighthouse, but all were shut down; fortunately, the power was still on.

Ning Qiuyan found the light switch and turned it on, then climbed the stairs, hoping that from the top he might spot the house where they were staying.

When he reached the very top of the lighthouse, the light was so bright he could barely keep his eyes open.

He had accidentally lit up the lighthouse.

His heart gradually settled. He’d heard that the light from a lighthouse could reach dozens of kilometers; if Uncle Kang and the others noticed he was missing, maybe they could spot this place.

But soon, he found another solution.

-There was actually cell signal at the top of the lighthouse.

Opening his call history, Guan Heng’s number from a day ago was still there.

Seeing that string of digits, Ning Qiuyan remembered what Guan Heng had said to him:

“Your body, actions, and thoughts-without reservation, all belong to me.”

“I will take care of all your needs, including your absolute personal safety.”

“Remember that.”

Ning Qiuyan’s fingertips tingled.

He hesitated, then pressed the call button.

The call connected.

It was very quiet on the other end, but he knew the other person was listening.

He bit his lip, trying to keep it simple and get straight to the point: “Mr. Guan, I went to visit the farm and now I’m lost. I’m at the lighthouse. Can you see the light from here?”

Guan Heng’s voice came through, still very calm: “I see you.”

Almost as soon as Guan Heng spoke, Ning Qiuyan heard the sound of a vehicle.

The sky was completely dark.

A car drove up beneath the lighthouse. The driver got out and waved up at the top.

Ning Qiuyan immediately got up and hurried down.

The night wind was biting; he was chilled to the bone and shivering slightly.

When he climbed into the car, he saw Guan Heng sitting at one end of the back seat, draped in a coat, his eyes dark as he looked over.

Ning Qiuyan hadn’t expected Guan Heng to be in the car, nor that he would come in person.

He was stunned for a moment, his cheeks flushing red from embarrassment at his own foolishness and for disturbing the other: “I’m sorry… I didn’t expect to get lost on such a simple road… Your number was the only one I had on my phone-”

Guan Heng was holding his phone, the screen still lit, and didn’t look angry at all.

He interrupted Ning Qiuyan and said, “You did very well.”