love on the turquoise land

Chapter 82

The weather wasn't great today. It was overcast from early morning, and by afternoon, snowflakes started drifting down.
To make it easier to set up the tripod, half of the roof and walls of the pump house had been taken down. Ah Peng and a few others huddled in the car with their necks drawn in, some with the doors open or windows down, watching Si and two others operate the winch, carefully lowering the retrieval claw into the well.
Having their own people handle the retrieval was Xiong Hei's idea—he was worried they might pull something unsavory out of the well, which would be inconvenient if outsiders were around. So he instructed Ah Peng to bring in two quick learners to give it a try—but retrieval work is specialized; it's not something you can handle just by memorizing a few steps.
The first two attempts brought up nothing but empty claws.
Ah Peng couldn't help cursing, "Damn it! You're no good at academics, and you're just as useless at skilled labor. Are you a complete idiot?"
Si, irritated by Ah Peng's scolding, snapped back, "Why don't you do it yourself? You insisted on using amateurs instead of pros! If I knew how to do this, I'd already be managing a retrieval team!"
Everyone nearby burst out laughing, and Ah Peng, sleeves rolled up, strode out of the car, saying, "Fine, I'll do it. Let's see who's the real loser here."
In a stroke of luck, Ah Peng managed to guide the claw steadily down on his first attempt. As he let the steel cable out to a certain depth, he confidently lowered the claw. "I'm telling you, we've definitely got something."
A few people crowded around the edge of the well to look.
Sure enough, they had snagged something. As the winch reeled in, the claw came up with a large pile of rotten material, unclear whether it was old cloth or decomposed grass. It had almost turned into muddy sludge, dripping all the way up, and the stench was so bad a few of them nearly retched.
Ah Peng looked disappointed, but Si had figured something out. "Peng, your first grab pulled up all the light stuff floating on the surface. We'll need to go deeper if we want to find anything substantial."
Realizing he had a point, Ah Peng sent the claw down again and decided to make a bet out of it: "Alright, place your bets! Is it gonna be a hit or a miss this time?"
A group of people eagerly squeezed him, rushing to buy the empty items. Ah Peng grew angry, thinking, "I will catch you big."
He swallowed hard, secured the wire rope deeper, and dropped the claws again, swinging them back slowly.
Operating machinery is different from using human strength. If it were just hand-pulling, you could gauge the weight by the pressure, but with machines, lifting a hundred pounds feels the same as lifting nothing. So, a crowd swarmed back to the wellhead. This trip was a gamble, with interests at stake. Some people turned on their phone flashlights, peering down and shouting, "Empty! Empty! Empty!"
Ah Peng stood still by the winch, believing a leader should remain calm. Regardless of whether the haul was big, small, or empty, the answer would come.
Sure enough, the previous empty shouts were replaced by excited chatter.
"Oh, there's something."
"Wow, there's something! A big one! Brother Peng is rich! Rich!"
"What is that? A sack? It looks black."
As the salvage hook rose, the smell intensified, raising murmurs of unease about what might be caught. A brave soul lay on the ground, stretching out to push the glowing phone closer. Suddenly, he trembled, nearly dropping his phone into the well, screaming, "Oh my god!" before scrambling away.
The bystanders, unaware of what happened, assumed he was acting, but when the salvage hook drew closer, panic erupted like ants in a boiling pot.
Ah Peng found it amusing and craned his neck to see.
It wasn't a significant sight, but the instability in handling meant that the salvage claw emerged with a jolt, heading straight for the nearest person. The man buckled, collapsing to the ground with a thud, his pants wet.
Ah Peng finally got a clear view.
What the salvage claw snagged was half a shriveled corpse. The claw's grip must have been too strong, severing the body. The upper half—two charred, stiff arms reached out as if grasping for something, the head reduced to a skeleton, shrouded in charred flesh. The eyes, nose, and mouth were deeply sunk, with red worms wriggling in the decay.
Ah Peng shouted, "Calm down! Calm down!"
Then he bent over and vomited his last meal.
***
Jiang Baichuan had lost track of how many days he'd been captured.
It felt worse than prison. Prisoners could see the sun rise and set, marking their days. He had no such luxury, rarely seeing any light.
Yet, life had improved since meeting Yan Tuo, who advised him to "play dead as much as possible." He channeled his energy into pretending to be dying. This act rewarded him with decent meals, rough bandages, and a covered urine bucket; it restored some semblance of dignity.
The fact that he wasn't dead meant he was still useful.
Jiang Baichuan began to see the brighter side: "As they say, if you endure humiliation and hardship, temporary struggles mean nothing if you can ultimately escape."
Among the younger captives, he had the most faith in Xing Shen. He believed Xing Shen was working on a solution. Just because he was imprisoned didn't mean he couldn't contribute; the stronger Xing Shen and his team were, the safer he'd be. Conversely, overreacting could lead to his downfall.
Thus, he focused on staying calm, keeping a routine, and planned exercises to stretch his arms and move his neck, preventing weakness or atrophy from prolonged sitting.
***
Late at night, he was in the middle of doing chest exercises in the dark when he heard the door outside creak open. It wasn't the usual calm sound of someone bringing food; this was sharp and ominous, tinged with anger. Jiang Baichuan's heart raced, and he quickly curled up, pretending to be asleep.
The door opened, and the lights flicked on, casting a dim glow across the room. He heard Xiong Hei bellow, "Get up!"
It was impossible to ignore such a loud command. Jiang Baichuan opened his eyes, feigning confusion as he stirred, just in time to see Xiong Hei's foot slam into him, sending pain ripping through his body and causing his vision to blur. But that wasn't the end—Xiong Hei grabbed him by the neck, dragging him out like a dead dog. It was excruciating, especially for his poorly bandaged, swollen foot, which throbbed with agony at every scrape, forcing him to gasp and break into a cold sweat.
Fortunately, Xiong Hei stopped once they reached the cultivation room outside, letting go of Jiang Baichuan, who collapsed onto the ground, shivering as if he had a fever. It took him a long while to catch his breath, and when he finally lifted his gaze, he saw a pair of ankle-high suede boots with diamond-studded heels.
Lin Xirou. The Lin Xirou.
He shrank back, but deep down, he was secretly pleased. Xiong Hei was furious, which could only mean one thing: things were not going well for them. If everything was in their favor, they wouldn't be this desperate. Their fury was a good sign—a sign that his side had gained the upper hand.
Lin Xirou crouched down. Xiong Hei seized a handful of Jiang Baichuan's hair, yanking his head back to make it easier for Lin Xirou to speak to him.
Expressionless, Lin Xirou asked, "Tell me—how many Feng Dao do you have?"
***
After receiving Ah Peng's update, Lin Xirou couldn't wait for any close-up shots; she demanded a live feed on the spot.
The other half of the corpse had been fished out, joining the first half. The face was too badly damaged to identify, but based on the height, it was likely Han Guan. Ordinary burns wouldn't result in this; it had to be someone like her—a peer. Killed first, blood drained, corpse dried, and then doused in gasoline and set ablaze.
She directed Ah Peng to flip the body over, examining every inch remotely. Finally, they found a knife wound at the center of the skull, with a semi-translucent, brownish-yellow residue clinging to the wound—a remnant of the final fluid, now hardened into a crust.
***
How many Feng Dao do you have?
Jiang Baichuan's heart raced almost out of his chest: The way the other party asked this question clearly indicated that Nie Er was making moves outside.
His eyes warmed; what a good girl, he really hadn't treated her poorly over the years.
He mumbled, "One, just one..."
Before he could finish his sentence, Xiong Hei slammed his head hard against the ground, making a dull thud sound.
Lin Xirong frowned and glared at Xiong Hei.
Xiong Hei said defiantly, "Who told this dog not to tell the truth!"
As he spoke, he roughly yanked Jiang Baichuan's head up again. This blow was extremely heavy; Jiang Baichuan saw stars in front of his eyes and soon felt hot streams of blood running down from his forehead, reddening his eyes and causing them to sting.
He weakly said, "Really, there's only one Feng Dao."
Lin Xirong sneered, "With such a tough mouth, are you hoping to meet your good friend?"
What good friend?
Before Jiang Baichuan could react, Xiong Hei slapped a stack of photos onto the ground.
The newly printed photos still had a faint smell of ink.
As soon as Jiang Baichuan saw the top photo, his mind went blank.
It was his partner, Que Die.
Que Die was already dead, hanging lifelessly from a tree. Perhaps lifeless wasn't quite the right word, but that was how he felt—he not only died but was also dried out like cured meat; his neck had been stretched in a strange way due to the hanging rope.
Jiang Baichuan's eyes were instantly clouded with tears. He sniffled and hurriedly rummaged through the stack of photos.
Not only Que Die but also the three-man team he had sent to Nanba Lin were all dead, their necks hanging by ropes from different trees. One of them had hair frozen into an icy crown, indicating that it had snowed heavily in Nanba Lin.
The last photo was a panoramic shot taken from a distance; four bodies hung quietly there, reminiscent of wind chimes striking against pillars and mechanical merry-go-rounds spinning.
As Jiang Baichuan clutched that photo, he realized it was just a picture, yet he could feel wind, rain, snow, and a piercing chill emanating from it.
He pressed his bloodied forehead against the photo and began to sob quietly, suppressing his wails.
Lin Xirong stood up and coldly said, "This isn't our fault; we notified you to send someone to lead people to Nanba place. But none of your people went; they all acted like turtles hiding their heads."
Halfway through Jiang Baichuan's choked sobs, he laughed weakly: "Not going was the right choice; if one more person goes, one more person dies."
Lin Xirong laughed too: "Is that so? When you're hanging from a tree yourself, would you hope they don't go? I'll ask you again: how many Feng Dao do you have?"
Jiang Baichuan sniffed: "One, just one. There are many from Dao family, but there is only one Feng Dao."
Lin Xirong's expression gradually turned sinister: "Do you think I'm a fool? The Feng Dao you mentioned is still paralyzed; how could he possibly have killed our people?"
Jiang Baichuan's heart raced again.
Lin Xirong used the word kill; did Nie Er kill someone?
That's really something.
He felt extremely pleased inside and paused for a moment before saying: "Feng Dao is paralyzed, but his knife isn't in his hands. You should know that the crazy knife feeds his knife with blood; as long as it's a knife he has fed well, even if it falls into another member of the Knife family's hands, it can still kill."