Bitter Pomelo Scent
“There, that should do it.”
Ren Hui nodded with satisfaction and handed Lu Ling a white face mask: “Put it on.”
Lu Ling took the mask, hesitated for a moment, looked down at herself, and seemed about to say something. Finally, under the eager gazes of the surrounding group, she put it on.
She wore a dark green round-neck thin long-sleeved shirt paired with a light blue-purple shirt jacket, the top buttons left open, complemented by a dark brown embossed silk scarf. For her lower half, she had a long brown skirt and black flat shoes, topped off with a pair of distressed gloves to hide her youthful hands—a twenty-four-year-old woman transformed into a fashionable grandmother.
The outfit itself wasn’t overly exaggerated.
That is, if you ignored the dark brown curly short wig on Lu Ling’s head and the black knitted fisherman hat worn to cover the hairline.
“I feel like something is still missing,” said Chen Lin from the costume department, frowning.
Ji Yao thought for a moment, turned around, and produced a cream-colored shopping trolley from somewhere—the kind that looks like a gift for opening a bank account. She thrust it into Lu Ling’s hands and then looked at Chen Lin.
Chen Lin tilted her head. Lu Ling’s eyes followed her movements, and the moment their eyes met, Chen Lin had a realization. She pinched Lu Ling’s cheek: “The problem is here. Xiao Lu, your eyes are just like a deer’s.”
“That’s the issue,” Chen Lin said. “Others might not notice, but Lin Que should be able to recognize you at a glance. After all, you spend every day together.”
Lu Ling subconsciously pursed her lips, her ear tips flushing a shy red.
“Hmm… found them.”
Chen Lin and Ren Hui spoke simultaneously—one holding a pair of reading glasses with white strings tied to the temples, the other holding a pair of sunglasses.
“Senior, are you crazy?”
Ren Hui silently tucked the sunglasses into her collar, assuming a humble posture: “I’ll listen to you.”
Lu Ling put on the glasses and pushed the frame up with her index finger, looking at Chen Lin again.
“Hiss—”
It wasn’t that there was no effect.
The reading glasses perched in front of her eyes didn’t serve to “diminish or shrink” the gaze; instead, they looked like a trendy fashion accessory.
Chen Lin reached out and lowered the frames so that the top edge of the glasses sat at the lower third of Lu Ling’s eyes: “Alright, no matter what happens, do not adjust them again.”
“Okay.”
Ren Hui checked her phone and said to Lu Ling, “All four of them have found their stalls. Chu Man is in the south, Xie Qizhi is to the due east, Mo Li is in the north—northeast direction, not far from Xie Qizhi, and Lin Que is to the due west.”
Lu Ling nodded, then thought of something: “What are they selling?”
Ji Yao was about to speak, but Ren Hui interrupted: “You’ll find out when you go see for yourself.”
Lu Ling frowned slightly but didn’t ask further.
As she turned to leave, Ren Hui stopped her, saying with a serious expression: “Remember, your identity now is a ‘demon.’ What is your mission?”
“To cause trouble?” Lu Ling ventured, watching Ren Hui’s expression.
“Coarse words, but the logic holds,” Ren Hui patted her shoulder solemnly. “At this stage, Xiao Lu, remember—this is already a ‘war’ between them and us!”
“You must return in triumph, okay?”
Ren Hui’s eyes shone brightly. Although Lu Ling still didn’t quite understand how it had “already” become a war with the guests—hadn’t they been in a battle of wits since the recording began?—She simply dragged her little trolley along. Suppressing the urge to push up her glasses, she set off toward the market.
Behind her, the three women watched her figure until she was completely out of sight.
Chen Lin breathed a sigh of relief: “Why does this feel like sending a child off to the national college entrance exam?”
“Can we win?” Chen Lin asked, looking at Ji Yao and Ren Hui.
Ren Hui shrugged noncommittally, her tone relaxed: “Who knows—maybe.”
Mingling with the crowd in the market, Lu Ling quickly grasped the persona of the demographic her outfit represented and instinctively began to mimic them.
She kept her waist slightly arched and slowed her pace. Their targets were usually fresh vegetables and meat; they rarely frequented seafood stalls since they often had their own, and they would meticulously strip the leaves off vegetables before weighing them.
Those who brought their granddaughters along would also buy some bulk puffed snacks or old-fashioned pastries.
In addition, Lu Ling added a setting for herself: a mute who cannot speak.
Except for Lin Que, the other three guests wouldn’t recognize her handwriting. She could “communicate” with them by writing in a small notebook. As for Lin Que—
Lin Que was a big problem.
Problems should be saved for last.
As Lu Ling walked, she thought about the remaining three people.
Xie Qizhi was a “smiling tiger.” Mo Li, though appearing to be a “porcupine” specifically targeting Xie Qizhi, shared much in common with her—Mo Li was simply a tiger who hadn’t yet learned how to camouflage.
Therefore, the best breakthrough point was Chu Man.
The market was clearly zoned.
Divided between north and south, the further south you went, the richer the aroma of fruits and vegetables. If one looked down from above, the colors in the southern half were even brighter than in the north. The northern half consisted of daily necessities and staple foods like noodles and pastries.
Chu Man wasn’t hard to find. Among the many stallholders, she was very conspicuous.
In front of her were oranges stacked neatly in blue crates. Behind her, the truck bed lined with dark gray flocked cloth was filled with fresh orange-yellow fruit. A megaphone placed on a crate played on a loop: “Oranges, fresh navel oranges, incredibly sweet!”
Chu Man wore a mask and a bright yellow apron, looking every bit like a real vendor, heatedly bargaining with customers.
The wariness toward “demons” had vanished from her eyes, replaced entirely by an immersive performance of an “orange stall boss.”
Lu Ling relaxed slightly: It’s fine, Lu Ling, you’ll be fine. Just go buy some oranges, leave the coin, and you’ll succeed.
Dragging her trolley, she squeezed to the front. Chu Man’s cheerful voice immediately came from above: “Come take a look, Auntie! Our oranges were freshly picked by the farmers this morning. Look, they still have dew on them!”
Lu Ling took the orange and the transparent plastic bag handed to her. A smile of excitement at her impending success was hidden in the shadows of her hat brim.
She squatted down, imitating those around her, and picked out four oranges. As soon as she stood up, Chu Man reached out: “Picked them out? Let me weigh them for you.”
The wide brim of the hat hid her eyes. Lu Ling nodded and handed the bag to Chu Man.
After taking it, Chu Man seemed to sense something, as if her neck had been pricked.
She subconsciously looked at Lu Ling, scanning her from top to bottom extremely quickly.
Lu Ling swallowed hard, her hand gripping the trolley, tightening.
She took a silent, deep breath—to catch the wolf, you must risk the child.
She tilted her head up slightly, making a confused sound in her throat, her free hand gesturing randomly in the air.
“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
—She’s deaf-mute.
A wave of guilt rose in Chu Man’s heart: “Alright, that’s four-fifty total… let’s just make it four.”
Lu Ling fished four coins out of her pocket. Chu Man hurriedly took them and handed her the oranges, saying cheerfully and warmly, “Come back if they’re good!”
“If they aren’t sweet, you get a refund!”
Lu Ling waved and quickly dragged her trolley out of the crowd. After she had walked a certain distance, the speakers in the center of the market rang out—
Xie Qizhi’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly.
The prompt sounded, meaning one of them had already been assimilated by a demon.
Lin Que?
Probably not.
The person who drafted the plan wouldn’t let themselves be sacrificed.
She withdrew her gaze, didn’t take the money the young girl handed her, and said with a thin smile: “Free tasting for new products.”
At the wine stall, Mo Li’s every breath was filled with the scent of wine, making her feel a bit lightheaded. Just as her eyes closed, a gray-haired woman stopped at her stall:
“How much for the wine?”
Mo Li turned her head: “Not for sale.”
The woman was stunned.
Mo Li nodded, her eyelids drooping: “Not—”
“She’s wearing a black hat!!! A knitted fisherman’s hat, mmm. White, mmm white trolley.”
“Screech—”
Chu Man’s megaphone was ruthlessly snatched away, and a black cloth was tied over her eyes. She still tried to shout out more of Lu Ling’s characteristics, but the next second, her mouth was blocked too.
—Did they hear it?
They must have heard it.
Lu Ling’s pace faltered.
This was their plan.
Sacrifice one to gain a piece of intelligence.
But this was clearly an uneven plan; they only had four people. No—
Lu Ling suddenly looked up. Her next target was Mo Li.
And at this moment, the wine stall was empty.
Whoosh—
A shadow. Lu Ling didn’t dare look back; she listened carefully to the sounds not far behind her.
The sound was approaching her—the footsteps of someone trying to run through a crowd but being obstructed.
This was their plan.
A demon is a danger, and being assimilated is a danger. But if they could catch one demon and thereby catch all demons, the dangerous element would cease to exist.
She was all too familiar with this logic.
Lin Que.
It could only be Lin Que.
Lu Ling didn’t wait to be caught. She decisively took off her hat and abandoned the trolley.
Regardless, the information they currently had was only a “black knitted fisherman hat” and a “white trolley.”
Lu Ling maintained her original demeanor and rhythm, continuing toward the wine stall.
Information asymmetry.
They had more people, but the information they held was far less than hers.
She still had money in her pocket. The moment the coin landed on Mo Li’s stall, the transaction would be complete— “What are you doing!”
Mo Li, at 178cm, had a wider field of vision. Even though she was a certain distance from the stall, she accurately captured this moment.
Lu Ling’s hand trembled slightly; the coin rolled off to the other side. She had no more coins in her pocket.
Mo Li’s voice was getting closer and closer.
Run!
I can’t be caught.
I cannot lose to Lin— again—
“Shh.”
At a corner of a wall, a semi-enclosed space was formed by a cargo box covered in deep blue plastic sheeting and the wall itself.
In a corner where sunlight couldn’t reach, dark green moss clung to the dampness, crawling up the wall.
Lu Ling’s eyes widened as she stared at Lin Que.
Why did she suddenly appear, and why did she pull her here?
She and Lin Que were on opposing sides.
“Where is she? Gone again…”
“It’s fine, we still have three people. That coin didn’t land on your stall, so it doesn’t count… let’s go back first…”
Xie Qizhi and Mo Li’s voices grew distant, and Lin Que withdrew her gaze.
Looking down, only Lu Ling’s eyes were visible.
She looked up at her like a little deer.
Very obedient.
She truly didn’t make a sound.
“Are you wondering how I found you?”
Lin Que smiled slightly, her cool nose brushing against Lu Ling’s. “You-you, you smell like bitter pomelo.”