Aside from the Kong family, only Changzong and Uncle Yang hadn’t returned.
Hongguo grew increasingly worried and stayed with Auntie Liu at night.
Auntie Liu had just come back from Wang Auntie’s house, where she’d cried alongside her again. Her eyes were still red, her voice heavy with grief—and guilt.
“Your Wang Auntie fainted several times from crying. She said she’d give up everything in the house if Qingdai could just come back. I warned her to keep a low profile. They shouldn’t have bought that TV. It stirred up so much jealousy. Such a prosperous daughter-in-law… I’m afraid she may not come back at all.”
The villagers who returned said Wang Auntie’s family had flaunted their wealth. The youngest daughter-in-law must have found treasure, which is why she had been targeted. Otherwise, how could Kong Laosan have escaped while Meng Qingdai hadn’t? The villains clearly knew Meng Qingdai had value—they were after her to get at whatever treasure she had.
The police investigated for several days. With few clues, no eyewitnesses, and no suspects, the case made no progress. Everyone feared Meng Qingdai wouldn’t survive—that her body might never be found.
Jiang Hongguo tossed and turned at night, unable to sleep—not only worrying for Meng Qingdai but for Gu Changzong. Her worry was justified; she knew Changzong was strange in ways others didn’t understand, which kept him safe.
Meng Qingdai, however, was equally unlucky. Wang Auntie’s family hadn’t covered for her—they even flaunted their good fortune, putting her in grave danger.
“Hongguo, don’t worry about Changzong. Uncle Yang says that if they can’t find her in a day or two, he and Changzong will come back. We’ve done everything we can.”
“I know… but thinking about Qingdai’s fate makes me so sad,” Hongguo admitted.
The thought of what happened to Meng Qingdai made her fear for Changzong as well. Her anxiety spiraled uncontrollably.
Uncle Yang returned, but Changzong hadn’t come back yet. Hongguo’s face fell. Uncle Yang and Auntie Liu misunderstood, thinking she was jealous—jealous of Gu Zhishi Qingnian’s concern for Meng Qingdai—but Hongguo wasn’t.
Before Changzong left, he had asked if she wanted Meng Qingdai to live or die. She had said she wanted Qingdai to live. If not for that, Changzong would have returned earlier.
Another day passed, and Changzong still hadn’t returned. Hongguo grew impatient. No matter how pitiful someone else’s situation was, her own family came first. Changzong, stubborn as ever, treated her words as gospel—he didn’t understand nuance.
Before Changzong returned, Uncle Chen arrived.
He claimed he came just to check on her but was really probing about her relationship with Gu Changzong. Hongguo sensed it immediately.
“Uncle, I treat you like my own father. If you have something to say, don’t beat around the bush—just tell me,” she said firmly.
After her father passed away, Chen Minyi had treated Hongguo like a daughter. Hearing the news and checking up on her, he was worried because Changzong hadn’t returned yet.
Chen Minyi explained why he came.
“Changzong’s family had cleared things up. When he came home last time, the car overturned. The driver, Old Wang, was badly injured. After leaving the hospital, he suddenly wanted a divorce and to be with the doctor who treated him. Meng Qingdai was similar—at first, her family disagreed with the Kongs. After she was discharged, she changed her mind. I’m worried about Changzong, too. The feng shui there might be bad. I’m concerned it could affect your marriage. I came to ask—has Changzong changed?”
Changzong had changed. To Hongguo, he had become better.
But she couldn’t reveal this—even though she trusted Uncle Chen like a father, she couldn’t speak about Changzong’s improvement.
Shaking her head, she said, “Changzong is the same as before. Back when he was an educated youth, he taught a literacy class and had a mentor-student bond with Meng Qingdai. This time he only went because of that. Uncle Chen, don’t overthink it. I trust Changzong.”
Chen Minyi believed her, but the news he brought still unsettled her. The driver, after leaving the hospital, wanted a divorce. The county hospital doctor—someone with such a good profession—could actually attract him? How did he gain the doctor’s favor? Was there another Meng Qingdai involved?
Hongguo could wait no longer. She resolved to go to the county to find Changzong.
…
The last time Hongguo went to the county was for Gu Zhishi Qingnian’s case. He was eager to return; she went to see him off. The car they were in met with an accident just outside the city. Changzong was lucky—his injuries were minor. He stayed behind, and their relationship grew stronger.
Hongguo had to admit: there were circumstances, but with Changzong treating her so well, she only wanted to live peacefully with him.
On the way to the county police station, clouds gathered suddenly, threatening rain. Hongguo panicked and dashed under an eave to wait it out. She suddenly heard faint cries from the house next door. Peeking through the crack, she saw a girl trying to escape but being dragged back. The girl couldn’t scream—it seemed she was mute.
The weather was terrible. The streets were empty. Hongguo ran out into the rain, letting it soak her, desperate to find someone—preferably a strong man—to help save the girl.
But at the corner, she encountered someone unexpected: a frail, emaciated figure. It wasn’t the man she hoped for—it was Meng Qingdai herself.
Had she escaped on her own? Were her pursuers still behind? Should Hongguo run or support her? Where were Changzong and the Kong brothers?
Her mind raced as she instinctively followed the staggering Qingdai.
Qingdai, realizing who had appeared, ignored her and kept running. She made it to the house Hongguo had sheltered under, threw open the door, and collapsed inside.
Hongguo followed, shocked at the scene.
In the main room lay two corpses—a girl and a man. The man’s throat had been torn open, blood still trickling. The girl’s clothes were ripped, eyes wide open, dead but unwilling to rest. Qingdai, exhausted from running, could only crawl toward the lifeless girl.
“Qingdai, what are you doing?” Hongguo cried, terrified, unsure how to act.
Only then did she notice the heavy rope marks on Qingdai’s neck. Could that be why she couldn’t speak?
Qingdai, barely able to move, pressed her fingers into the soil, staring intently at the dead girl.
Why was she staring at the corpse? Hongguo didn’t understand.
She couldn’t understand why she then felt compelled to help Qingdai lift the body of the dead girl, dragging it step by step.
Tears fell. “Qingdai… if today hadn’t happened… if no one had died… I’m so afraid someone else will come after us. If this is the wish you need to fulfill, I’ll help you. But after that, I have to escape.”
At the last step before the dais, Hongguo mustered all her strength to drag Qingdai over the dead girl, then ran.
She desperately wanted to see Changzong—she had to go to the police station and call for help.
“Hongguo…” a gentle female voice called from behind—but it wasn’t Qingdai.
Every nerve on Hongguo’s body screamed. She didn’t stop; she ran faster.
“Hongguo!” Another voice, and a warm arm suddenly wrapped around her neck, tightening.
Looking up, Hongguo saw a girl who seemed to have risen from the dead. Terrified, she was knocked unconscious.
…
When Hongguo awoke, she was on a hospital bed, the sterile smell of disinfectant filling her nostrils. Relief washed over her. Apart from a sore throat, she was fine.
How long had she slept? How did she get here? What happened to the other three people in that house? Was Qingdai alive or dead?
These questions raced through her mind. Even with Changzong by her side, she dared not ask.
She pretended to have a headache, needing time to process. Changzong patiently explained what had happened.
During the heavy rain, he and Kong Laosan chased the panicked Qingdai. By the time they reached the stranger’s house, there were four people inside: the mute girl, Hongguo (unconscious), Qingdai, and another man. Under the rain, the bodies of the man and Qingdai had already gone cold.
The mute girl woke first and used gestures and writing to explain to the police: the man had broken in intending to force her, but Qingdai intervened. Hongguo, trying to help, was knocked unconscious. The mute girl and Qingdai fought back together—the mute girl bit the man to death, but Qingdai, severely injured, died.
Hongguo was shaken. The girl who survived… really mute?
Changzong, confused, didn’t understand why she asked. It was a doubt, not mistrust—but Hongguo asked quietly.
He said, “Yes, she’s been mute for years.”
Hongguo nodded, no longer asking foolish questions.
When the police came for her statement, she claimed a headache, couldn’t remember details.
Hearing this, Changzong worried like a man on a hot pan. He consulted the doctors, completed admission procedures, and stayed with her for observation.
Outside, there was crying—Kong Laosan and Wang Auntie. Hongguo dug her nails into her palms, leaning against Changzong.
“Is Qingdai in the morgue? I want to see her too.”
Changzong’s face remained calm. Though Qingdai had died, she had lived in a different way—Hongguo’s wish for her survival had, in a sense, been fulfilled.
In a coaxing tone, he said, “Guoguo, I handled things fairly well. Do I get a reward when we get home?”