Ye Liuxi had a general sense that Chang Dong had intended for her to go down to his floor to find him. But she didn’t want to go—she was tired of Jiang Zhan, and also of this Qingzhi lady—after all, hadn’t their relationship just made a breakthrough? It was like playing a game of digging for earth mice: just when the little mouse pokes its head up, a hammer comes down. Wasn’t that fair to the effort she’d put in? She had even forgotten that she once thought Chang Dong wasn’t hard to pursue. No—he had been difficult, truly. She had poured every ounce of energy into it, struggled tirelessly, endured hardships, and finally held onto this little snail. So she pretended not to notice, not to understand, avoided his gaze, and lay down early. The fire downstairs hadn’t yet died out; its glow filtered through the cracks in the wood, like red veins growing inside the timber. She tried to cup it with her hands, but in vain—the sound of the lake waves was everywhere, seeping steadily into the room. Beside her, Ding Liu turned over and spoke softly. “Xī姐, don’t you feel different from us?” Ye Liuxi "I remember, when we were at Bai Long Dui, before crossing the border, Dong said only you could drive—we were all cargo. At the time, it felt odd, but we didn’t think much of it. Now, after so many days here, having heard countless stories about entry and exit procedures and witnessed so many things, I suddenly understand: you’re not quite like us after all. Indeed, close companionship makes it hard to hide differences. Ye Liuxi nodded: "Go on. What do you think the difference is?" "Xiao Jie, are you from inside the border area? Dong always reminds you to wear your mask—fear people will recognize you, right? He knew all along, just kept it hidden from us." Ye Liuxi replied: "Your little brain, stirred by the knife, has suddenly become sharper." Ding Liu said: "I’ve always been quite intelligent. How could a slow-witted person like me possibly help my father-in-law manage the gate?" The duty of managing the gate, to her, felt like receiving a medal—she often brought it up, and its frequency of mention even surpassed that of her own head. Yet, the more she speculated, the more puzzled she became. If it were necessary to drain blood to pass through the gate, and if only shadow-people could enter and exit, then what exactly was the situation with Ye Liuxi? Ye Liuxi seemed to sense what she was thinking, closing her eyes: "Just let it go. I'm not even fully clear myself." Ding Liu remained silent. She didn't know how long it had been—only the steady, rhythmic breathing of a sound asleep person. Ye Liuxi quietly listened to each breath: deep and resonant, that of the high-ranking officials; soft and slow, Ding Liu's; fat and irregular, like someone playing a trumpet, occasionally clicking her lips, as though she hadn't eaten well in a long time... Chang Dong's... She couldn't hear Chang Dong at all. Ye Liuxi gently lifted the blanket and began to descend the stairs step by step. All along, she had been so accustomed to consulting Chang Dong, even to the point of depending on him—now, suddenly having to keep things to herself, as though holding a tangled mass of threads close to her chest, it felt deeply uncomfortable. The fire was nearly out, with patches of red still glowing in the ashes. Chang Dong had already gone to sleep, his hat resting beside the inflatable pillow. Ye Liuxi sat by the bed, lifted the hat, tilted it slightly over her head, then pulled down the brim to cover her eyes, gazing into the dark. Suddenly, Chang Dong spoke: "Liuxi?" Ye Liuxi removed the hat. Chang Dong had woken up on his own—probably a natural response to someone being nearby. At first, seeing someone at the foot of the bed, he thought it was the twin, and was genuinely startled. When he recognized her, he felt both exasperated and amused: "You don't sleep all night, sitting here like this—it's quite intimidating. Why are you dressed so lightly? Are you cold?" He quickly sat up, pulled her into his arms, and wrapped a blanket around them. "How can you possibly feel cold now? Are you having stomach pain?" She didn't feel it, yet nodded: "A little." Chang Dong propped up the pillow, leaned against the back of it, and wrapped his arms around her waist, positioning her so her abdomen pressed closely against his, then tucked the corners of the blanket neatly beneath her: "When you're not feeling well inside, you still need to stay warm—don't be too hard on yourself." Ye Liuxi lay pressed against his chest, silent. Chang Dong lowered his head, his chin brushing gently against her hair: "Holding things in makes you uncomfortable on the inside. When you finally speak, everyone else feels it too." Ye Liuxi couldn't help laughing—her eyes grew warm with tears, and though she struggled, she eventually managed to tell the story. Chang Dong listened attentively, gently stroking the tattoo on her wrist as time passed, the sparks in the fire gradually fading, the room growing dimmer, the warmth slowly being offset by the cold seeping through the floor—no wonder the workers in the shed all preferred the upper levels; the lower ones were truly too cold. After she finished, he said, "That's all?" Ye Liuxi replied, "All?" "Chang Dong said, "I know what you're thinking, but a tattoo doesn't prove anything. People from the same gang, the same family, even those who commit similar crimes might have identical tattoos—there's no guarantee they're paired as lovers." "As for Miss Qingzhi, let me be blunt—your height and build aren't unique, and your temperament? That's even more far-fetched. Just when you grip someone's collar, your temperament is exposed, isn't it?" Ye Liuxi felt a sudden warmth in her heart: she sensed Chang Dong was becoming slightly agitated. "That person believes you're Miss Qingzhi, trusts you to be Miss Qingzhi, and treats you with courtesy—this shows that Miss Qingzhi is someone who can move independently, handle affairs, and holds a certain status, not merely a companion to Jiang Zhan. Such a person, if suddenly missing, couldn't remain unnoticed. There would surely be widespread speculation beneath. Yet you've been away from the capital for at least over a year now. Therefore, Miss Qingzhi and you are two separate individuals." Ye Liuxi looked up at him, "Chang Dong, do you not at all hope that "Isn't that just plain nonsense? Are you saying I wouldn't like someone coming to me and trying to take my place?" Ye Liuxi buried her head in his chest, speaking only after a long pause. "Changdong, we both know there might be someone out there. If things really go south, could I ask you one thing?" "Go on." "Even if that person truly exists, would you please not just quietly leave without saying a word? Don't assume you're making sacrifices, doing what's best for me, easing my burdens, or fulfilling my wishes—let's face each other, make decisions together, and be clear about both our choices, whether we stay or part. That way, we won't regret either way, okay?" Changdong smiled, "Do you think I'm someone who easily lets go?" Ye Liuxi nodded, still holding onto her lingering sense of being overlooked during their first encounter. Changdong said, "Then you still don't understand me." He leaned in close to her ear. "When I say I want someone, I'm not just talking about a fleeting encounter or a memory. I want someone who is fully present—physically and emotionally. I want to share your years, your days You'll rest assured. Either I won't take hold, or once I do, I won't let go easily. When it comes to what needs to be fought for or seized, I won't hesitate. Ye Luoxi reached out and wrapped her arms around his body, wanting to say something, yet finding herself unable to form words. He already knew what she was thinking—words now seemed superfluous. She lifted her head and kissed his lips. Chang Dong lowered his head, gently biting her upper lip with his teeth, then lightly brushing his tongue against her lip. Just as he intended to deepen the kiss, a sudden rustling of wings echoed from the corner. The person who had been quietly sleeping, Zhen Shanhe, seemed startled and suddenly sat up straight. Chang Dong paused, then suddenly realized something, murmuring, "Listen." — Listen to what? Ye Luoxi only came to it after a moment of reflection. There was indeed sound—busy, layered, with the clatter of drums and gongs, the murmur of songs and laughter, and the gentle collision of dishes and plates. All these sounds blended together, forming a steady wave that gradually grew clearer and more distinct, as though it were drawing nearer—almost as if Chang Dong loosened his hold on Ye Liuxi, stood up, dressed himself, and turned on his flashlight. There were soon signs of activity upstairs. After a while, Fei Tang leaned down, "East brother, did you hear anything? Hm, West sister, how come you're here?" Ye Liuxi pulled the blanket up a bit and casually glanced upward. With just that one glance, Fei Tang suddenly felt uneasy, as though he had become a bad person doing a good thing, so he quickly stopped speaking. Changdong closed the door quickly and gave a brief account of what had happened. Fei Tang drew in a sharp breath: "Didn't we... leave that village far behind?" That was true, Changdong recalled the current location of the village: "It really feels like a ghost ship—where it now stands, there used to be water." Ye Liuxi added: "The sounds are getting closer and closer, as if they've been drifting all the way here." Throughout their journey around sunset and into the evening, their vehicle had followed the lake's edge. Now it seemed clear that the village itself was a large, mobile landmass—or even an island—drifting and gliding through the lake, now anchored near the construction sheds. Fei Tang stammered: "Then... then what do we do? It's as if it's chasing us—while we haven't moved a single thread of their fabric!" Changdong paused thoughtfully: "Unless they come to knock on our door, we should just leave them be." Fei Tang shivered: "East brother, can we really just ignore them? They're right in front of our eyes now, aren't they?" Chang Dong turned to him and asked, "So, who wants to go and say hello?" No one responded, but Ding Liu, with some difficulty, carried down Ye Liuxi's clothes and sword. Only then did Chang Dong realize what had happened, feeling momentarily embarrassed—yet upon reflection, he thought it was actually quite fitting, as if it had been publicly revealed. ... By the late night, no one could fall asleep, all listening intently to the sounds outside. It was strange—though the village seemed to be approaching, no one came to knock. As dawn approached, the sounds gradually faded. When Chang Dong opened the door, he saw the rooftops slowly descending. Every structure—houses, courtyards, staircases, covered walkways—disappeared beneath the ground right before his eyes. Then, the lake water rose, flooding the land, and by morning, everything outside had returned to its original state: water as water, shore as shore, exactly as it had been when they had checked in the previous night. Chang Dong felt a sense of relief that he had narrowly escaped. After the sky lightened, several people barely had time to eat breakfast. They gathered their luggage and nearly sprinted onto the vehicles, all convinced that the earlier they left this place, the better—only when Changdong had driven more than ten meters, did they suddenly spot the Zhunshan River trailing behind, desperately trying to catch up, and realized they’d forgotten it. They immediately pulled over to pick it up. But the rest of the journey turned out quite troublesome. As they drove, they kept running into dead ends—surrounded on three sides by water, forced to retreat and retrace their steps, only to find the same situation again and again. After several such attempts, Changdong began to question whether they were simply making a mistake. It seemed the lake water itself was alive, constantly setting obstacles, no matter which direction they chose, eventually surrounding them. The only viable path was to go back the way they had come. Could they really keep going in the opposite direction of Black Stone City? After a long morning of backtracking and trying different routes, growing increasingly exhausted, Ding Liu suddenly pointed ahead. "East Brother," she said, "isn't that where we stayed last night—the work shed?"