Finding someone isn't actually that difficult anymore—identity information is now fully interconnected nationwide. As long as the given name is the person's real name and the surname is correct, and you have a connection within the public security system, it can be handled within minutes. Changdong asked Xiao He to help, and Xiao He has a childhood friend at the municipal police bureau—something that required only a small effort. The bureau responded promptly: across the country, there are five or six individuals named Ye Liuxi, but either their ages or genders don't match. None of them even come close to matching Changdong's description. This outcome was actually within Changdong's expectations: finding someone named Ye Liuxi isn't easy—too easy would lack challenge; yet it's not difficult either, since it's someone who has come to her directly. If she hadn't clearly explained her needs, it would be unreasonable to set five hurdles for a regular person. Since the identity information couldn't be verified, the most effective next step would be to review surveillance footage—this falls outside the ordinary scope of a regular police officer's duties, so Changdong didn't pursue it further. — Over the past two years, Chang Dong has been like a still pond, with all social connections wiped out and rarely stepping out the door. But lately, things have started to stir: first, he's abruptly dropped out, then he's asking me to find people for him. The still water has now ripples, awakening a sense of urgency in Xiao He: from the start, Chang Dong has always been a temporary fix, a part-time collaborator—this partnership could vanish at any moment. It's time to make contingency plans. Throughout the day, Xiao He has been reaching out to people, even calling Hua County in Weinan, known as the "Home of Shadow Puppets," to inquire about potential replacements. By the end of the day, he's overwhelmed—several candidates are actually worse than Chang Dong, demanding surprisingly high fees. With a lingering hope, Xiao He decides to visit Chang Dong to gauge his interest: what if he's overthinking it all, and Chang Dong simply doesn't have the same intentions? After dinner with his girlfriend, Xiao He rushes to the Huimin Street. The theater is closed, the entire alley is dark. Seeing the bustling activity at other businesses, Xiao He feels a deep sense of frustration and disappointment Open the door, walk through the dark theater, and see the restroom at the far end of the stage lit up, the door slightly ajar with the sound of running water inside. Xiao He pushes it open and greets, "Dong... oh!" He stumbles—having forgotten there was a step at the entrance—sits down abruptly, flustered, reaching for something to hold onto, and knocks over the trash can at the door, leaving a mess all over the floor. Chang Dong frowns at him, "What's wrong?" Xiao He awkwardly pushes himself up from the ground, steadies himself against his waist, and smiles with embarrassment, "Nothing, I just went full crazy..." He's used to Chang Dong's hunched posture and silver hair, but suddenly sees a tall, young man standing in front of the sink, wearing a black sports outfit, his baseball cap casting shadows over his eyes—so startled that he momentarily thinks a thief has broken in. Chang Dong turns off the tap, takes a tissue to wipe his face, and keeps his eyes lowered, not looking at the mirror. Xiao He smiled and kept talking, finding words on his own: "Dong, you look really fresh tonight... so late, where are you going? Should I give you a ride? I actually have something I left here, so I came to pick it up..." Chang Dong wiped his hands on the tissue, then tossed it into the overturned trash can: "I have something I need to take care of." Xiao He instinctively stepped aside to let him pass, watching him walk away before realizing he hadn't asked the questions he'd meant to. For no clear reason, he felt a sense of relief, and then bent down to gather up the scattered trash. Just as he was busy, Chang Dong's voice suddenly came from behind: "Xiao He?" Xiao He turned: "Ah?" Chang Dong had returned. The corridor was dark, his hat brim low, both hands tucked into his pockets—like a silhouette stepping out of the shadows. "You're going to find someone to step in and help out," he said. — Used to living through others' faces, suddenly feeling exposed and bare, as though peeled back to the core. From the Hui Street to the street corner, just Finally got into a taxi and instructed the driver to take him to the Zhuoque Road antiques market. The driver clearly knew the area well, chewing on his gum while maneuvering the car around, and chatting with him: "Looking for souvenirs? The market has already moved—did you know that?" Chang Dong didn't respond, and the driver, sensing the moment, fell silent and drove him straight to the destination. The Zhuoque Road antiques market had been around for years and once enjoyed great popularity, but in recent years, due to declining business and a move toward centralized, standardized management, it has naturally declined. However, it's said that on Saturdays there's an early morning market where just setting up a newspaper or drawing a circle on the ground with a chalkboard is enough to secure a spot. Today, neither Saturday nor an early market day. Chang Dong paid for the fare and walked toward the nearby Fenghua Lane, stopping finally at a small supermarket. The illuminated sign above the supermarket read: "Han Tang Style." The shelves are spaced apart, dividing the space into two sections: the left side sells porcelain, bronze ware, calligraphy, ancient books, and ancient coins, while the right side offers locally produced eggs, Shaanxi Red Fuji apples, various roasted snacks, and also provides phone screen protectors. There's only one checkout counter, where a slim man sits, with bright, alert eyes, barely in his twenties, his hairline already receding—likely due to his sharp mind. This is Fei Tang. — Fei Tang was busy. He stared straight ahead, puffing out his cheeks, veins standing out on his forehead, vigorously shaking the pure copper turtle-shell divination tool in his hands, the clinking sound never ceasing—until finally, with a decisive "There it is!" the shell tipped over and spilled out six coins of the Qianlong Tongbao. Fei Tang knelt down close to the counter, squinting at the coins one by one, mentally calculating the trigrams, his face lighting up with joy. He shouted, "Exactly! Head west—great fortune awaits!" Since there were no customers in the shop, he happily pushed open the door and stepped out, looking toward the west. Chang Dong instinctively lowered his head, then realized it would only make things more awkward, so he stood there stiffly for a few seconds. Fei Tang recognized him at last, "Oh, Dong... Dong-ah?" Chang Dong nodded awkwardly. Fei Tang quickly gestured for him to come inside, "Dong-ah, it's been nearly two years since we last saw each other, hasn't it?" "You said you were standing at the door— I thought you were going through some kind of transformation..." He swallowed the rest of his sentence: late at night, dressed all in black, wearing such a low hat, standing quietly at someone else's doorstep—so secretive and odd, just like a character out of a crime drama. Chang Dong said, "I'd like to ask you for a favor." "Chang Dong, you're being too polite—what's it about?" A few years ago, Fei Tang was doing well, and had accumulated many wealthy friends. These people, while rich, found merely making money dull, so they wanted to conquer the highlands, deserts, and vast wastelands—this is how Chang Dong first met them, though their relationship wasn't particularly close. Now, their enthusiasm was purely out of curiosity: "Wait a minute— you led a team that died, right? Over a dozen people, all covered in news reports. How have you been these past two years? How do you even show up now?" Chang Dong said, "I remember you mentioning once that you have a friend who's really good with computers?" — Fei Tang called his friend, who replied that it was a small task and that he It's almost closing time anyway. Fei Tang closes the shop and greets Chang Dong, "My friend lives nearby—just two streets away. Let's walk." On the way, Fei Tang had originally intended to chide Chang Dong a bit, asking about his recent situation. But Chang Dong spoke little, and his answers made it hard to keep going. Plus, the WeChat group "Antique Peers" was buzzing with lively conversation, so Fei Tang quickly shifted his focus. They chat for a while, and Fei Tang beams proudly, launching into a long speech on his phone: "Today I acquired a real gem—do you know what it is? The Bi of Zhu Xi!" Chang Dong gives him a glance. Fei Tang notices this and chuckles nervously, "Dong brother, I'm just making it up—I heard this young man mentioned that someone recently came to his shop to sell the兽首玛瑙杯. I simply can't let him take the lead now!" He plays the voice message for Chang Dong. Indeed, the group is abuzz—some say they've just received a "Along the River During the Qingming Festival" scroll, others report buying a Wang Xiz The "young guy" who had been repeatedly put on the spot finally spoke up, furious, shouting, "I'm telling you, I'm not just some bird! I can see it clearly! The senior staff member at the store has seen it too—this guy hasn't missed a single one in thirty years!" Chang Dong said, "That sounds pretty convincing." Fei Tang sneezed, "The Beasts' Jade Head is our museum's crown jewel at the Shaanxi Provincial Museum—people can't even get a free ticket to see it. If that piece goes missing, the news will be all over the place. Here we go." Chattering on and on, he also tossed a few complaints about Chang Dong: "Your friend really has no manners. I've been helping him, yet he didn't even smile at me once." Fei Tang glanced at Chang Dong in the corner and lowered his voice: "With over a dozen lives on his shoulders, even you wouldn't be able to smile." Qi Liuhai immediately became interested. Fei Tang went on vividly: "Two years ago, under his leadership, they chose the wrong campsite—everyone was buried alive by a sandstorm, and even his own wife was lost. You go search the videos; the families of the victims showed up at his doorstep, treating him like a grandson. There's still footage online." Qi Liuhai quickly pulled out his phone, typed in the keywords, and flipped through several pages—there it was. Fei Tang offered the headphone cord with a nod of agreement. The two of them were in sync—each of them slipped a headphone into their ears and clicked to play. Though the video footage was grainy, shaky, and captured by a passerby, it was still clear enough to recognize Chang Dong kneeling on the ground. Several middle-aged men and women were pulling at him, crying, Qiliang’s hair is swept forward, eyes shining: “This is so intense!” Fei Tang listens intently, reaching for a bag of partially opened chips, crunching them with a satisfying sound: “Keep watching—there’ll be people throwing bricks at them. Think about it—this is life. I heard after that, he wouldn’t even step out the door.” Suddenly, Changdong’s voice comes through: “I’ve found it.” Fei Tang is startled, swiftly pulling off his headphones and giving Qiliang a sharp push—his earphone cord loosens, and the woman’s heart-wrenching voice fills the room. “People who lived with me—I never looked at them once when they passed away. Not even a coffin!” Qiliang is stunned, trembling so badly she can’t manage to click the “×” on the screen. When she finally closes it, her face is as red as a monkey’s bottom. Changdong says: “I’ve found it. I’ve paused it. There’s another vehicle. Once I have the license plate number, it’ll be easier.” Qiliang feels utterly relieved: “Then it’s mine. I’ll take over from here.” He was moving so fast, leaving Fei Tang to fend off Chang Dong. Fei Tang felt the air itself awkward—nothing seemed right, so he just pretended to be seriously eating his chips, even politely inviting Chang Dong to join him. After a while, he quietly sent a WeChat message to Qi Liuhai: "Just find something, anything, to send him off. I'm really running out of steam..." Qi Liuhai didn't disappoint him. He quickly pulled out a notepad and handed it to Chang Dong. "Good luck—the street cameras near by captured the license plate. I've traced the owner and got their phone number. But the owner isn't named Ye. You can call them first and ask questions. I'll keep an eye on things tonight and update Fei Tang with any developments." Chang Dong took the notepad. The owner's name is Huang DeFu, 46, from Zhai Town near the border of Menggan Province. "Did you look for her? She's been selling melons on the street lately."