FQ | Chapter 1

The taxi came to a sudden stop by the roadside, and Luan Ye quickly grabbed the edge of the window to keep from being thrown forward.

The driver was calm, glancing back at him. "We're here, handsome."

Luan Ye didn't respond. He released his grip and glanced down at the navigation, which showed they were still eight hundred meters from the destination.

"The village is just ahead," the driver explained, likely noticing his confusion. "The road to where you're going is narrow and all stone. My car's low to the ground, so it's really hard to get in there. You'll have to walk a bit. It's 120, but you can just pay 100."

Luan Ye didn't say anything, scanning the payment code stuck behind the seat and transferring 120. The driver gave him several looks before continuing the conversation.

"You read about it in some niche travel guide, right? A hidden gem, they say." The driver seemed to know the type. "I brought a few people here last time, and on the way back, they all said they were duped, nothing much to see."

"It's just a small village under the snow-capped mountains, no real attractions. If you're here, you should be climbing the mountains or horseback riding. If you want to go, you can hire my car."

The payment notification chimed, and Luan Ye opened the car door to get out. The driver leaned out, persistently continuing, "Are you heading back tonight or tomorrow? If you want to go somewhere else, save my number. It's too remote here, you won't find a taxi."

He had picked up this passenger at the airport, who, aside from a small black backpack, carried no luggage, not quite looking like a tourist.

Luan Ye turned back to look at him, finally speaking his first words: "Sir, can I borrow a light?"

His voice was low and a bit hoarse, and he coughed twice after speaking. The driver was momentarily taken aback, then fished out a lighter.

Luan Ye fished out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, straightening up.

"I'm not going back." His voice was somewhat muffled by the cigarette, "Thanks."

Switching the navigation to walking mode, Luan Ye followed the mechanical prompts in his ear into the village.

He didn't really care whether the driver couldn't go further or just didn't want to. In the past two days, he had traveled from California to Melbourne, then to Tokyo, transferred in Shanghai, and finally reached Yunnan. The journey had taken him from airplanes to highways to mountain roads. The long trip had left him with a splitting headache, and an acute cold only made it worse. The driver's speeding through several turns earlier had made him feel like he might vomit any second.

His throat felt as if sand and stones had been grinding in it for three days and nights, and the taste of tobacco was bitter.

Smoking with such a throat would only render him mute, but it didn't matter. No one was around to care now.

—At least, no one could reach him anymore.

Luan Ye glanced at his phone, which had switched time zones and weather four or five times over the past few days. It now automatically adjusted to local time, showing four in the afternoon.

The weather in Yunnan in June was unpredictable. When Luan Ye had left the airport, it was pouring rain, but now it had stopped. The air was thick with moisture mixed with the scent of grass and trees. Holding the cigarette in his hand, Luan Ye took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil in his gut before looking up again.

The place was indeed remote, surrounded almost entirely by mountains, with the village nestled within. The roads were gravel, not easy to walk on. The village houses were of varying heights, typical rural courtyards built mostly of stone, appearing sturdy and cold.

The most striking feature was the snow-capped mountain directly opposite.

It was summer, but perhaps due to the high altitude, there wasn't much snow on the mountain, yet it was still quite visible. The black rock walls and patches of snow stood starkly in the June landscape.

A few people passed by, some locals, others draped in colorful shawls, likely tourists like him.

After navigating a few alleys, with his cigarette two-thirds smoked, the navigation indicated he had reached his destination.

Luan Ye sent a WeChat message, and two minutes later, the wooden gate of the small courtyard in front of him was pushed open from the inside.

A thin, small elderly woman, appearing to be in her sixties, peeked out at him. Her Mandarin was tinged with a local accent, making it sound a bit awkward.

"You're the one renting the room, right?"

Luan Ye paused, extinguishing his cigarette. He glanced at the chat interface, at the burly man with sunglasses in the profile picture, then looked up at the elderly woman in traditional ethnic attire with her hair wrapped in a blue cloth.

"My son helped me set up WeChat," the old woman explained, seeing his thoughts. "He works outside and sometimes helps me advertise online."

She pushed the door open wider, speaking directly, "Such a tall guy, afraid of being tricked by an old lady like me?"

Luan Ye chuckled and followed her into the courtyard.

Outside, the courtyard was no different from other village houses, but inside, it was filled with lush flowers and plants. Directly opposite was a two-story wooden building.

The woman led Luan Ye upstairs, opening the innermost room. "There are four rooms in total upstairs, and someone lives downstairs."

"It's a one-bedroom, one-living room, and one-bathroom setup, fully furnished. The living room has large windows facing the snow-capped mountain."

The old woman carefully wiped her shoes on the doormat before entering.

"1200 a month, deposit one month, pay three months in advance. Utilities are included unless you exceed the limit. There's internet, the password is on the coffee table. No cooking in the room; there's a shared kitchen on the left side of the courtyard. Clean up after yourself."

She glanced back at Luan Ye, confidently stating, "You probably don't cook."

"Ah." Luan Ye was momentarily stunned by her rapid-fire speech, then replied with his raspy voice, "I don't cook."

"There's a restaurant in the village. If you want to eat at home, you can keep a tab, and we'll settle the food expenses at the end of the month." The old woman's voice softened slightly, still assured.

"Don't worry, I won't overcharge you."

"…Alright."

Eating at home.

It had been a while since he'd heard that phrase.

Luan Ye was amused, coughing a couple of times, and asked in a lowered voice, "Do I pay the rent to you or your son?"

"Of course, you pay me!" The old woman gave him a look, raising her voice. "It's my house!"

Besides the rented building, there was another two-story building on the right side of the courtyard. It was much smaller than the rented one, with a tea room on the first floor, featuring floor-to-ceiling glass, bright and transparent. Luan Ye signed the contract with her in the tea room. A short-term lease for three months, totaling 4800 with the deposit.

The old woman pulled out her phone from her pocket, flipping it over to reveal a large payment code sticker on the back of the case, its edges slightly worn.

Luan Ye transferred the money, the notification sound loud, and she handed him three keys, one of which was heavy brass.

"Two keys for your room, one for the main gate. The main gate isn't locked, just lock your room."

She pointed to the floor above the tea room, "I live upstairs here. If there's anything with the house, come to me. Like everyone else, you can call me Grandma Mu."

She paused, her tone quite serious, "Don't bother me between three and five in the afternoon, I have to play mahjong."

Luan Ye, affected by her seriousness, nodded solemnly.

Grandma Mu continued, "Give me your number too."

Luan Ye hesitated for a moment, then opened his phone to the SIM card and recited the number twice.

Grandma Mu dialed the number, hanging up once it connected, saving it while asking, "So young, and you can't remember your own number?"

"Yeah." Luan Ye nodded, "Bad memory."

The whole rental process was so swift that when he returned to his room, his head was still spinning—perhaps from illness or fatigue.

Though the location was remote, the room was quite nice.

The ceiling was triangular, making the space feel high. The beams and columns were exposed, and the coffee table and desk in the living room were all wooden.

The bedroom was on the left, not distinctly separated from the living room, just elevated on a platform. Sheer curtains were tied to the columns, which could be drawn for a semblance of division. However, the room was spacious enough not to feel cramped.

Both the bedroom and living room had large rectangular windows facing east, directly toward the snow-capped mountain—Luan Ye glanced out, noting that the weather had turned gloomy again, with heavy clouds obscuring the mountain.

He opened all the windows for ventilation and examined the bed in the bedroom.

The sheets and duvet were white, like those used in hotels. Luan Ye inspected them closely; they appeared clean, but he wasn't sure how long they'd been there, as rental places couldn't change them daily like hotels.

Against the wall was a wooden wardrobe, which Luan Ye opened to find empty.

Returning to the sofa, he instinctively pulled out a cigarette and placed it in his mouth, only to remember he'd left his lighter at airport security.

He decided to empty his only bag, laying out all his belongings on the small wooden coffee table in front of him.

ID card, passport, charger, phone.

These were the essentials for a getaway.

The Z9 camera and lens, spare batteries, and charger.

These were his livelihood and his reason for leaving.

Going out to take some photos—this reason was so convincing for him that no one would doubt it, enough to let him vanish from the other side of the world and reappear in a small village in the southwestern mountains.

A new phone card bought at the airport, so new that he hadn't even memorized the number.

The WeChat account was newly registered, with the landlord's son as the only contact.

The bank card was one he had gotten years ago when he returned to the country, barely used.

Perfect.

Luan Ye turned off his phone and collapsed heavily onto the sofa.

Technically, he should go out to buy some essentials—like a toothbrush, toothpaste, new sheets and duvet. Or he could go out to eat, as he'd only had one airplane meal in the past 30-plus hours.

Luan Ye closed his eyes.

Too tired. Sleep first, then deal with everything else.

This was probably the deepest sleep he'd had in a while. When he woke up, it was dark outside the window, and he had no idea what time it was.

The wind blew in from outside, making the curtains sway. It was a bit cold, and Luan Ye took a moment to gather himself before getting up.

After sleeping, his cold symptoms hadn't improved; his throat was painfully sore, and he instinctively wanted to clear it.

As soon as he tried to speak, Luan Ye knew he was in trouble.

Though his voice had been hoarse before, like a relative of Donald Duck, he could at least manage a few words. But after sleeping on the sofa facing the window, exposed to the wind for who knows how long, he found himself completely voiceless.

He tried to open his mouth and make a sound, but all he felt was a weak airflow through his throat. Forget about speaking normally, he couldn't even produce a single syllable.

The room was dark, with no lights on, and the sight of him sitting on the sofa, struggling to make a sound, was rather pitiful.

After about ten seconds, Luan Ye decisively gave up.

To hell with it, he thought. After all, he was alone now. Being mute was just fine; he didn't need to talk to anyone.

His hair had grown long, and he hadn't had time to cut it while running around. He tied it up at the back with a hair tie. After sleeping, it had come loose, so he casually gathered it up and retied it, then picked up his phone and headed downstairs.

The courtyard was empty, with only two or three dim garden lights casting a faint glow. He walked through the courtyard to the gate, a typical wooden door found in rural areas, with a large lock hanging on the inside. It wasn't locked, just ajar, and opened with a push.

He needed to go out and buy some things.