Through the coordination of the Anping County Public Security Bureau, Song Ning was arranged to leave early the next morning with two county government staff members who were traveling to Yucheng on official business.
Once they arrived in Yucheng, they would help her find transportation onward to Rongcheng.
The headquarters of the Southwestern Military Region was located in Rongcheng.
In short, everything along the journey would be arranged for her.
After saying goodbye to Lan Ying, Song Ning boarded a jeep with the two government officials. Both worked in the education department. The older one was addressed as Section Chief Fang, while the younger one was simply called Xiao Zhang.
The jeep left Anping and headed north toward Yucheng.
Unfortunately, the weather was poor. Not long after they left the city, rain began to fall.
The farther north they traveled, the heavier the rain became.
At around six o’clock that evening, they arrived at a place called Bijie County.
This area lay at the border between Guizhou Province and Sichuan Province. Beyond it stretched winding mountain roads.
For safety reasons, the jeep turned into Bijie County, and the group checked into the county government guesthouse.
While handing over the room keys, the receptionist specifically reminded them:
“Because of the weather, hot water will stop at eight o’clock. If you want to take a bath, don’t miss the time.”
Song Ning glanced at the clock hanging behind the reception desk.
It was already past seven.
After settling in, she remembered the receptionist’s warning and gathered her toiletries before heading to the bathhouse.
Bathing facilities in this era were communal. The outer room contained washbasins, while the inner room housed the showers. The two areas were separated only by a half wall a little taller than a person, and the bathhouse was located at the east end of the corridor.
Song Ning only saw the women’s bathhouse on the east side. The men’s bathhouse was probably at the other end of the hallway.
The water was pleasantly hot.
After being jostled around in a jeep all afternoon, a comfortable bath was a rare luxury.
Even rarer was the large mirror in the washroom.
For a guesthouse of this era, that was considered a high-end amenity.
The guesthouse at the Public Security Bureau hadn’t had one. She had only vaguely seen her reflection in the glass entrance doors before.
Now, looking clearly at the familiar face in the mirror, Song Ning let out a deep sigh.
The heavens had thrown her into this world with the same name and the same appearance.
What exactly was that supposed to mean?
The only difference was that this body’s skin was somewhat rough and dull, her hair overly long and yellowish from malnutrition, and her heavy bangs completely hid her natural beauty.
Honestly, they were doing her appearance no favors at all.
She went downstairs to the reception desk and borrowed a pair of scissors.
With a decisive snip, she cut off nearly half of her waist-length hair and thinned out her heavy bangs.
The scissors weren’t particularly sharp, but that didn’t stop her from giving herself a thorough makeover.
When she returned to hand back the scissors, however, she discovered that the previously quiet and spacious lobby had become packed with people and luggage.
Several individuals wearing red armbands moved through the crowd, organizing everyone.
The place was loud and chaotic.
Several receptionists now stood behind the desk, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of guests.
The receptionist who had lent her the scissors spotted her and squeezed through the crowd.
“The long-distance bus station down the hill has flooded,” she shouted. “All the stranded passengers have been brought here. It’s packed right now. You should head back to your room and rest.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you!”
Song Ning squeezed forward, stretched over the crowd to return the scissors, then turned and worked her way out.
She couldn’t help wondering whether the roads farther north had also been flooded if even the bus station was underwater.
After taking a few steps, she instinctively glanced back.
For some reason, she felt as though someone in the noisy crowd had been staring at her.
When she looked carefully, however, everyone seemed occupied with registration, complaints, or finding places to sit.
No one appeared to be paying attention to her.
She silently climbed a few steps toward the second floor.
Yet an inexplicable unease settled in her chest.
As she reached the stairwell landing, she looked back once more.
This time, her eyes met a sinister gaze directly.
In a corner of a long bench against the wall sat a man wearing a knitted cap.
While everyone else was pushing forward, afraid they might miss out on a room, he remained hunched in place.
The brim of his cap was pulled low.
His collar was turned up high.
Together they concealed most of his face.
From behind the crowd, he watched her coldly.
A chill ran down Song Ning’s spine.
She quickened her pace upstairs.
Her room was on the third floor, on the right side.
When she reached the third floor, she looked back again.
Thankfully, the staircase was empty.
After a moment’s thought, she leaned over the railing and looked downward.
Then she saw it.
A black-gloved hand was moving swiftly and silently up the stair railing on the second floor.
Someone was climbing the stairs quickly and quietly.
Although it was raining and the temperature had dropped, the weather wasn’t cold enough to justify heavy winter clothing.
It was already the fourth month of the lunar calendar—May by the solar calendar.
Most people were only wearing light spring jackets.
Yet that hand wore a glove.
It was him.
The same man still wearing a knitted cap in this season.
He had followed her upstairs.
A numb chill spread across Song Ning’s back and quickly enveloped her entire body.
Without hesitation, she turned left and ran.
Section Chief Fang and Xiao Zhang were staying on the left side.
Room 325.
She remembered the number clearly.
But when she reached the room, nobody answered.
She knocked several times.
Still no response.
Looking back again, she saw that the man had already reached the third floor and was scanning both directions.
The lobby downstairs was crowded and noisy.
The third-floor corridor, however, was quiet and empty.
The man immediately spotted her.
After only a brief pause, he began chasing her.
Before being kidnapped, Song Ning had never traveled far from home.
After being kidnapped, she hadn’t met many people.
Therefore, she could almost certainly identify who this person was.
Clearly, the heavy rain had stranded him here.
He had recognized her.
And he wanted to eliminate this potential threat before she could expose him.
Giving up on Room 325, Song Ning continued running.
As she ran, she pounded on doors along both sides of the corridor, hoping to draw someone out.
Unfortunately, her pursuer was fast.
Soon she reached the end of the hallway.
There, a door stood slightly open.
Just as she had guessed earlier—it was the men’s bathhouse.
At this point, she had no time to care.
She slipped inside and immediately shut the door.
Only then did she discover that, because it was a communal bathhouse, the door had no lock.
A door without a lock couldn’t stop the man outside.
Her heart sank.
Then she heard the sound of running water coming from the inner bathing area.
Someone was taking a bath.
The corridor wasn’t very long.
Footsteps were already approaching outside.
The outer room was merely a washroom with nowhere to hide.
Not wanting to rush directly into the bathing area, Song Ning slipped behind the door.
Moments later, the footsteps stopped outside.
The door was pushed open immediately.
The instant the man stepped halfway inside, Song Ning struck.
She grabbed his shoulder, trapped his arm, and delivered a swift kick to his knee.
The man had been prepared.
Although the kick made him stumble, he immediately counterattacked, reaching straight for her face.
Judging by his movements, he was clearly trained as well.
Song Ning remained calm.
She locked his arm and pressed downward.
However, he was significantly larger than she was.
Her strength wasn’t enough to subdue him with a single move.
Just as she prepared to transition into another technique—
The man suddenly collapsed to the floor with a loud thud.
He lay motionless.
Behind him stood a man with a towel still wrapped around his waist.
The man’s raised arm had not yet lowered from the strike.
And it was a face Song Ning recognized.
A very familiar face.