Chapter 31.2: The Vanishing

“Little Yuan, how long do we have to wait?”

“No idea.”

“Why’s it taking so long? They've been digging forever.”

Their tricycle was parked atop a slope, giving them a slight vantage. Though the Jiang family courtyard was fenced with iron bars, the view wasn’t blocked. Despite being some distance away, they could still make out what was happening inside.

“They probably ran into some trouble.”

A gurgling noise came from nearby.

Li Zhuiyuan glanced over. Runsheng looked sheepishly down—he was hungry.

He’d been nibbling incense here and there, but incense, to him, was just scallions to go with real food. No one fills up on scallions.

Li Zhuiyuan handed over the money his great-grandfather had given him that morning. “Brother, there’s a little shop on the road up ahead. Go get us something to eat.”

“Ah, that’s such a waste.” Runsheng shook his head. “That stuff’s for tasting, not for real meals.”

“Just get a little to stave off the hunger.”

“How about I bike over to the restaurant in town and grab a real meal?”

“That’s too far. We have to stay put—those two things might show up… or sneak out.”

“True. I’ll go grab something quick. What do you want?”

“I’m fine with anything. Get whatever you like.”

“You wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Runsheng grabbed the money and sprinted off on foot instead of riding.

Before long, he returned carrying several bags of instant noodles and biscuits.

“Here, Little Yuan. And your change.”

“Why didn’t you buy more?”

“Didn’t want to splurge. With this money, I could’ve bought loads of rice or flour.”

Li Zhuiyuan ate a few biscuits. He’d had a late breakfast and wasn’t too hungry yet. Runsheng, on the other hand, had already worked in the fields this morning—he needed the food more.

After finishing, Runsheng gathered all the instant noodle seasoning packets.

Li Zhuiyuan had wondered earlier—though they couldn’t cook or soak the noodles, sprinkling the seasoning in, crushing the noodles, and shaking them up would make a decent snack, right?

But Runsheng hadn’t done that. He’d eaten the noodles as dry blocks.

Now, he tore open a seasoning packet, poured the powder into his palm, and licked it. Then he kept pouring and licking, looking utterly satisfied.

Seeing Li Zhuiyuan watching him, Runsheng grinned. “Little Yuan, wanna try? Tastes great!”

“Oh, okay.”

Li Zhuiyuan held out his hand, and Runsheng poured some into his palm. He licked it carefully.

Sure enough…

It tasted like pure instant noodle seasoning.

“Heh, back in the day, we had to share one packet. Now I get a whole one to myself.”

At the time, snacks were scarce. Kids had started eating seasoning like this—flavorful and fun.

Li Zhuiyuan fingered the change in his pocket. The old carpenter hadn’t charged a fee, but this had spent his great-grandfather’s favor. A one-time use.

Future materials and experiments, plus possible wear and tear… allowance wouldn’t cut it.

He needed to figure out a way to make some money.

“Brother Runsheng, know where people play cards?”

“Cards? My grandpa does! He loves playing three-card brag. There are a few fixed games in the village. Just show up and play.”

“How’s Grandpa Shan at it?”

Runsheng looked a bit embarrassed and whispered, “We could’ve had solid food at night. But if he plays, we barely get a thin porridge.”

Li Zhuiyuan recalled his great-grandfather saying Grandpa Shan always lost at cards.

“Brother Runsheng, do you want to visit Grandpa Shan?”

“I do.”

“Then let’s go to Xiting tomorrow and visit him together.”

“Alright!”

Runsheng stood up, stretching, and scanned the area. Suddenly, he pointed at an approaching motorcycle.

“Hey, Little Yuan. Doesn’t the guy on the back look like your great-grandfather?”

“That is Great-Grandpa.”

Li Sanjiang was on the backseat, a bundle wedged between him and the driver. Another bundle was tied to the rear. He held one in each hand, trembling from the strain and the wind.

He’d been summoned officially—he had to go, or next time he’d have no standing when delivering memorial plaques.

Unfortunately, their mule had wandered off, and worse yet, taken the tricycle.

“Comrade, stop here!”

The motorcycle halted. Li Sanjiang looked at Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng standing by the road and asked, surprised:

“What are you two doing here?”

“Same reason as you, Great-Grandpa. We were called.”

“What?” Li Sanjiang blinked, tossed his bundles to Runsheng, and said, “Let’s go.”

Li Zhuiyuan hadn’t expected to get into the Jiang courtyard so soon.

Inside, he felt Tan Yunlong’s eyes on him and looked away.

But Tan Yunlong walked over, bent down, hugged him like he was tousling a kid’s hair, and whispered:

“You report this to get yourself a gig?”

“This is a rough way to earn money.”

“Hehehe.” Tan Yunlong patted his head, turned to Li Sanjiang, and said, “Old Sir, thanks for coming. Don’t worry, I’ll cover your fee.”

“Oh no, please, no need.” Li Sanjiang waved his hands. “We’re all comrades. It’s our duty—police and public working together.”

“We really appreciate your cooperation.”

“The body’s in the pond?”

“Yes, take a look.” Tan Yunlong led him over and whispered, “Sir, if you could keep things discreet…”

“They told me on the way. Don’t worry, I understand.”

“Thank you.”

He knew the deal—too much superstition around uniformed officers wasn’t a good look. Last time, police stayed by their cars while he retrieved bodies from a pond.

Cooperate when needed, maintain appearances when required.

Li Sanjiang called out, “Runshenghou, get the gear!”

Runsheng hesitated, glancing at Li Zhuiyuan, who was already peering into the pit.

He saw a hand. And frowned—it looked fresh.

Brother Bao had said he buried the corpse with Jiang Dongping here years ago. In a pond’s moist soil, the body should be bones by now. Why was there still flesh?

Either this wasn’t Old Zhou, or something was wrong with the current Old Zhou.

“Runshenghou! Don’t just stand there. Grab the gear!”

Li Zhuiyuan snapped out of it. “Brother Runsheng, bring our gear.”

Better use our own, just in case.

“Alright!”

Runsheng quickly uncovered the tricycle’s tarp and brought over a brand-new set of tools.

Li Sanjiang eyed them—similar to his, but clearly not the same. With police watching, he said nothing. New or old, it made no difference to him.

“Great-Grandpa, let Brother Runsheng try first. If he can’t manage, that means Grandpa Shan didn’t teach well. Then you can step in and give him a proper lesson.”

“Hmm, fair enough.”

Li Sanjiang thought Little Yuanhou made a good point.

Runsheng set up the tools beside the pit, eager and excited.

Li Sanjiang placed simple offerings on a small wooden stool—he’d even brought nearly burnt-down white candles.

He kept the setup modest, per the police’s request.

Lighting candles and burning paper, he circled the pit, chanting softly.

Young officers watched curiously; the older ones backed off.

Tan Yunlong looked around. The Jiang family home was large and isolated. Few villagers dared approach. Maybe ten onlookers gathered beyond the wall, half of them just passing by and spotting the police.

The Jiang family members were all inside giving statements.

All was calm. No big crowd to stir gossip.

After finishing the ritual, Li Sanjiang pulled out two beer bottles plugged with cloth—filled with bright red liquid.

Tan Yunlong rushed over. “Sir, what are you doing?”

“Pure yang black dog’s blood. Gotta dispel the malice. If it won’t come out, it’s angry.”

“Can we skip the splashing?”

“No splash?”

“If you do, the body won’t be fit for examination.”

“Alright, I’ll hold off. Runsheng, get started. Let’s see if Grandpa Shan taught you anything worthwhile.”

He set the pig-blood mixture on the ground and stepped back to strike a pose—teacher supervising.

He pulled out a cigarette to light up.

An officer nearby warned, “Sir, you’ll need to smoke further away. We need this area for evidence collection.”

“Oh, alright.” Li Sanjiang hesitated, still trying to look important, and walked off. He reached for matches—none in his pocket. He’d left in a rush.

Now he needed to borrow a light.

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