Love on the Turquoise Land – CH 002

Volume 1. Chapter 1.

In mid-September, while the Jiangnan region was still sweltering in the heat, the Qinling-Huaihe line was already turning cool.

Around 10 PM, the area around Xingbazi Township in Shihe County, Ankai City, was almost completely dark, with only a few lights in the western corner—the surrounding mountains cast shadows, and the wind rustled through the forest, making the lights appear like flickering lamps.

The people of Xingbazi Township traditionally lived in the east of the township; the west side was wild land. Before liberation, a temple and altar had been built there, and shamans had been invited to perform exorcisms. Later, during the Cultural Revolution, the land was destroyed and burned and then abandoned. Later still, for reasons unknown, large fields of corn grew there, but unfortunately, the variety was poor, and the harvest was only good for feeding pigs. At this time of year, the corn had been mostly harvested, leaving only tall, withered yellow stalks, thin and densely packed, rustling eerily in the wind.

***

The few lights came from a dilapidated temple in the center of the cornfield and an off-road vehicle outside.

The driver’s side window was half-open. Sun Zhou’s left hand, holding a cigarette, rested on the windowsill as he talked on the phone with his girlfriend, Qiao Ya. He was so engrossed in their conversation that he hadn’t had time to smoke, leaving the cigarette burning in vain. Every now and then, he had to tap off the ash.

“It’s the countryside; there’s nobody around… I’m telling you, it’s really giving me the creeps.”

He glanced around, suddenly feeling unsafe with his left hand sticking out of the car window, so he put down the cigarette and pulled his hand back.

Qiao Ya had heard of this place: “It’s a mountainous area, right? My grandpa told me that before liberation, that area was a bandit zone, where many people were killed, and it’s even said to be haunted.”

Goosebumps rose on Sun Zhou’s arms. He subconsciously glanced left and right: to his left was a dark field of straw, the straw swaying gently in the wind, exuding a chilling, eerie atmosphere; to his right was a temple, its light flickering like a faint firefly.

“What could I do? Miss Nie wanted to see the clay sculptures; they’re artists.”

“It’s also my fault. I took the wrong route and arrived late. Miss Nie was so engrossed in looking at them that I felt bad urging her…”

He was a driver on the route, and Miss Nie was the employer. Whether to leave or when to leave was up to the employer.

Qiao Ya grumbled, “Why don’t we go to Longmen or Dunhuang to see sculptures? Why go to the countryside…”

Sun Zhou said, “Didn’t I say artists saw all those famous caves when they were just teenagers? Now it’s all about finding these rural, pristine places to spark creative inspiration.”

Qiao Ya was speechless for a moment, then asked, “I heard she can sell a sculpture for tens of thousands?”

Sun Zhou didn’t really know either, but he pretended to be knowledgeable: “Can art be that cheap? It’s at least a hundred thousand.”

Qiao Ya sighed for a while, then said, “This Miss Nie is really bold.”

“You bet,” Sun Zhou said with feeling. “It’s so dark here, in the Qinling-Bashan Mountains, let me tell you, I’m worried. What if some criminals show up and kill us…”

Qiao Ya retorted, “That’s not what I meant. I meant, she’s a young woman, and she dares to go to such a remote place with you, a man, in the middle of the night—isn’t she afraid you’ll get lustful and do something to her?”

“I’m paid to do this job; I have professional ethics. Besides, we’ve known each other for a few days; we’re practically acquaintances.”

Qiao Ya sneered, “Acquaintances? People say half of sex crimes are committed by acquaintances. Women are wary of men, regardless of whether they know them or not. Anyway, if it were me, I would never dare to drive to the countryside in the middle of the night with a male driver I don’t know well, not even a male colleague or classmate.”

Sun Zhou smirked, “What about me? Am I okay?”

Qiao Ya also coquettishly replied, “You are.”

Sun Zhou felt a surge of desire and was about to say something suggestive when he suddenly saw a dark shadow flash past in the left rearview mirror.

He jumped in fright, dropping his phone. “Who?”

The only response was the rustling of the wind through the cornfield.

Sun Zhou opened the car door, looked around, and felt that there seemed to be nothing in the cornfield, yet everything seemed to be there at the same time.

Picking up the phone, before the call was even disconnected, Qiao Ya was already anxious: “What’s wrong? Who is it?”

Sun Zhou felt a chill run down his spine: “Never mind, I’m going… to urge Miss Nie.”

He hung up and jogged towards the temple—although he was 1.8 meters tall and looked strong, it was all show; if something really happened, he couldn’t protect her.

Besides, he was also with this frail Miss Nie.

***

The temple wasn’t large; passing through the gate and courtyard led to the main hall. It had been destroyed and burned years ago, and the cultural relics protection bureau had begun restoration work, but abandoned it halfway through, whether due to lack of funds or a feeling that it wasn’t worthwhile.

On the altar in the main hall, clay sculptures were crammed together. Miss Nie, Nie Jiuluo, wearing a white shirt and black leggings, was straddling the top of a portable aluminum alloy telescopic ladder, holding a flashlight in her left hand, carefully examining the eyes and eyebrows of a clay sculpture. A finely threaded, multi-looped bracelet dangled from her wrist, gleaming with a soft silver light.

The temple was dimly lit, and dust particles floated up and down in the beam of the flashlight.

Sun Zhou remembered that when he arrived in the evening, these clay sculptures were still covered in dust, but the one she was examining now had distinct features and vibrant colors, clearly having been cleaned.

He called out, “Miss Nie.”

Nie Jiuluo turned around.

She was in her mid-twenties, slender, with long, jet-black hair and fair skin. Her hair was truly black, almost shiny, and her skin was truly white, a porcelain-white with a cool undertone. The texture was so good that any foundation was unnecessary, so she wore a bright red lipstick—people with cool skin tend to have lighter lips, and without lipstick, they always seem somewhat weak. As she turned around, the face of the clay sculpture was also revealed. Although the sculpture was damaged, it was beautiful, but its beauty was not dignified; it resembled a bewitching allure. Nie Jiuluo’s bangs were low, pressing down on her eyebrows; her dark eyes, snow-white skin, and red lips were positioned to the side of the clay sculpture’s face.

Two faces, one alive, one dead; one flesh, one clay. Sun Zhou was momentarily stunned, feeling that Nie Jiuluo’s face possessed a more captivating allure than the one beside her.

He recalled Qiao Ya’s words about being attracted to beauty at first sight and thought, “Even if I had the chance, I wouldn’t dare to do anything to her.”

“Miss Nie, it’s past ten o’clock. Let’s go back first and come back tomorrow. The security in this area isn’t very good, and the road conditions are bad…”

Nie Jiuluo understood immediately: “Okay, I’ll take a few photos and then leave.”

***

After taking the photos, Sun Zhou packed up the ladder and other belongings and put them in the trunk. As he closed the hood, he looked back.

There seemed to be some sound, a mournful, plaintive sob, like a woman… weeping.

Sun Zhou was terrified by his own association, his hair standing on end, and he quickly jumped into the car.

Nie Jiuluo sat in the back seat, carefully examining the photos she had just taken.

Sun Zhou cleared his throat: “Miss Nie, have you heard any… strange noises?”

Nie Jiulu asked curiously: “What strange noises?”

Sure enough, Sun Zhou had guessed that he couldn’t rely on her: these artists are too engrossed in their work, and once they get absorbed in it, even banging gongs and drums won’t disturb them.

He changed the subject: “No, you’re from out of town; you don’t know… This area used to be called Nanba Laolin, a place where bandits killed people; it’s full of yin energy…”

Nie Jiuluo said, “I know, Nanba Laolin, it used to be a primeval forest. From the Eastern Han Dynasty onwards, the mountains were closed off; ‘every mountain was a sea, no forest without trees.’ During the Qing Dynasty, a large number of refugees poured in, and the White Lotus Rebellion started here. Later, bandits occupied the area, and it wasn’t until after the founding of the People’s Republic of China that they were eradicated.”

Sun Zhou’s eyes widened: “You know all that?”

Nie Jiuluo looked down at the photos again: “I was interested in regional history in college,

so I minored in it.”

Minor? She’s already so good at her main subject; why a minor? No wonder she makes so much money and hires a car, while I can only drive for others in the middle of the night.

Sun Zhou sighed as he started the car.

***

The road in this area was uneven, and Sun Zhou, being careful with his car, drove very slowly. Just as he was about to make a turn, a woman suddenly appeared in the straw field on his right.

At that moment, the headlights illuminated that area, and Sun Zhou saw it clearly: the woman’s face was deathly pale, covered in blood, her eyes bulging, almost bursting out of their sockets. She seemed to be trying to rush out for help, but a thick, dark brown arm grabbed her neck from behind, dragging her back into the straw field in an instant.

This scene was fleeting, but the visual impact was immense; even after the woman was gone, Sun Zhou’s retina still held those two bulging eyes.

His blood rushed to his head, and with a cry of “Ah!” he instinctively slammed on the brakes.

The car jolted violently, and Nie Jiuluo, caught off guard, nearly hit the back of the seat in front of her.

She steadied herself and looked up at Sun Zhou, asking, “What happened?”

What happened?

Sun Zhou gasped for breath. Left and right, front and back, the straw was swaying gently, with the occasional cracking sound of a dry stalk breaking in the wind.

Was it a hallucination?

He felt it wasn’t a hallucination; right now, right outside the car, something terrible was happening.

What to do? Sun Zhou’s palms were sweating profusely: Should he intervene, or pretend he saw nothing?

Seeing Sun Zhou’s silence, Nie Jiuluo was even more puzzled: “Is there something wrong with the car?”

“No, no,” Sun Zhou steadied himself and started the car again. “Something just darted past in front of me; it gave me a fright.”

Nie Jiuluo didn’t suspect anything: “Maybe it was a rabbit or a mouse. In this kind of wild area, near the mountains, there are lots of small animals.”

***

The car finally reached the county road; Sun Zhou’s mind was a mess.

How was that woman? Would she die? If she died, would it be his fault?

He immediately defended himself: doing this was the right thing to do, to stay away from danger. Not everyone has the ability to be a hero; what if the person dragging that woman away was a murderer? If he got out to help, he might also die there, and Miss Nie was in the car, she would be implicated too…

So, this was the right thing to do.

He drove back to the hotel in a daze.

Shihe County was a small place, and this Jinguang Hotel, a near-four-star hotel, was already considered the most upscale. Before returning to her room, Nie Jiuluo made an appointment with him to go to Xingbazi Township again at nine o’clock the next morning.

Go again; she still wants to go.

Sun Zhou went to sleep with a heavy heart, tossing and turning all night, having many fragmented dreams. These dreams were a blend of all sorts of strange legends he had heard, so vivid they were terrifying—in the dead of night, Nie Jiuluo was cleaning the demoness statue in a dilapidated temple. She was alive; the clay figure, sensing her yang energy, gradually came to life, winking and making faces, but she was completely unaware. His car wouldn’t move no matter what he did. He got out to check and saw that the tires were covered in corn stalks.

He desperately tried to tear them off, but the stalks seemed to have a life of their own, growing wildly, wrapping around his body, and piercing his seven orifices. The woman was dragged into a field of stalks. He pretended not to see it, and the car sped onto the county road. Suddenly, a cracking sound filled the air. Patches of stalks grew on the asphalt road, and in the stalk forest, shadowy figures floated, sometimes with a sorrowful expression, sometimes with a sinister smile.

…

At nine o’clock in the morning, Sun Zhou, with dark circles under his eyes, drove Nie Jiuluo to Xingbazi Township again.

This time they took the right route, arriving at the dilapidated temple just after ten o’clock.

As usual, Nie Jiuluo remained motionless upon entering the temple. Sun Zhou waited for her outside, scrolling through Weibo, watching Douyin, basking in the sun, and even climbing onto the roof of his car to gaze into the distance: all morning, only one motorcycle had passed by in the distance, its engine sputtering, carrying three burly men—driver and passengers—overloaded, straddling each other like a moving mountain of flesh.

At midday, the sun was blazing, and Sun Zhou felt a surge of adrenaline as he chewed his bread. Unconsciously, he stared at the thick straw in the distance while he chewed.

That woman, the woman dragged into the straw field—had her body been dumped nearby, or had she been taken away and disposed of?

Or perhaps he was overthinking things, imagining things too much: there was no bloodshed, maybe it was just a marital fight, and she had only been beaten.

Sun Zhou looked away, continuing to chew his bread, but his gaze couldn’t help but drift back.

A voice in his head said: Look, go look, look, and you’ll know.