My girlfriend is a Miao demon.

Xiang Nanfeng's fingers gripped the handle on the roof of the taxi so tightly that his knuckles turned bluish-white, and his fingertips even left shallow marks on the cold plastic handle. It wasn't that the car was going that fast; in fact, the driver had the accelerator floored, and the engine was emitting a muffled roar. But even if he were sitting on a rocket, Xiang Nanfeng wouldn't feel like he was flying that fast.

His heart pounded like a runaway drum in his chest, his rapid breathing causing a slight pain, and his voice trembled almost imperceptibly: "Master, faster, please, faster!"

The taxi's tires rolled over the speed bumps at the entrance of Wangshan University, each bump like a pounding on Xiang Nanfeng's taut nerves, producing a dull and piercing sound.

The speedometer needle gradually reached between 70 and 80, which was quite a risky speed on city roads. The wheels sped past the shadows cast by tall buildings, and the branches of the plane trees along the roadside were swept backward by the wind. The whole car was like an out-of-control torrent of iron, rushing wildly toward the Circle Art City in the northwest.

The midday sun shone directly through the tinted car windows, casting a warm glow on the black plastic interior. Yet, Xiang Nanfeng felt no warmth. In his haste to leave, he had hastily donned a thick overcoat. He had been drenched in sweat from frantically hailing a taxi at the school gate, and the sweat clung stickily to his back and sides, trapped inside the overcoat. The wind, carrying waves of heat, seeped in through the cracks in the windows, sending chills down his spine and raising goosebumps.

His gaze was fixed on the phone screen, on the address he had repeatedly confirmed—No. 18, East Zone 3, Circle Art City—he could practically see a hole through it. The little red dot for location tracking shone faintly on the map, firmly anchored at the foot of the northern slope of Shounan Mountain, like a nail embedded in the texture of the map, or even more like a sharp thorn, piercing the most tense part of his heart.

He had heard of the Circle Art City long ago. It was a sacred place in the hearts of wandering artists in southern China, a passionate memory of youth for art students from Wangshan. How many people had set up their easels here, building their future with paint and dreams.

He had to admit that the fact that Zuo Sigong had rented a place in the Circle Art City had not been erased from his memory. He remembered that he and Lin Shu had gone there to do an interview on November 8th, and he also remembered that after the incident, he heard people mention this place again not because of Zuo Sigong, but because of Loujia Village.

A few days ago, Jia Shouguang, the old patriarch of the Jia clan in Loujia Village, had mentioned this place to me. Jia Shouguang said that during the Qing Dynasty, among the several villages that had ostracized the Jia clan's ancestors was Fupo Village. Fupo Village was massacred by the Japanese invaders in 1938 and disappeared from the village. The location of Fupo Village is today's Circle Art City.

Therefore, the Lou family, Fupo Village, and Circle Art City are by no means unrelated, and Zuo Sigong's living here is by no means because he loves the atmosphere of modern art or wants to escape urban life.

Even not long ago, when he went east to Bijia Mountain South Valley to Lile Village to stay overnight and print materials, this Circle Art City was only about 1 kilometer away from him: it might be that close to Zuo Sigong's secret, or of course, it might be quite far away.

Zuo Sigong and that wolf-faced man, Miaoyao Tower and Nanshan Pavilion, is this a journey to find a lover in the dream world, or a chase from the dream world to find a way to survive?

Zuo Hezi, will you ever find out the secret your father discovered?

It was 12:45 pm when the taxi entered the gates of the Circle Art City. This place is less an art city and more a memory of industrial history. Rusty large machines leaned against the roadside, and huge gears were painted in various colors. A novice would find it difficult to distinguish between industrial ruins and installation art.

"Sir, slow down, let me check the house number."

Xiang Nanfeng squinted, staring at the crooked sign by the roadside.

West 3 District, West 2 District... Just as the taxi turned the corner of an old factory building covered with ivy, another taxi suddenly drove up from the opposite direction.

As the two cars passed each other, Xiang Nanfeng's eyes, which had been fixed on the house number, were drawn to a beam of bright light. It was a vertical metal rod that looked like the silver handle of a suitcase.

The suitcase was clearly placed in the aisle of the taxi, and a girl wearing a black tracksuit and a black baseball cap was sitting in the back seat. Only her profile was visible through the window, and her long, black hair was casually draped over her shoulders.

—Whoosh, the car drove past.

After a fleeting glimpse, the factory's address reappeared. Xiang Nanfeng glanced at the address, then looked down at his phone's real-time location. He found his way and quickly urged the driver:

"Master, look ahead. Do you see that bronze sculpture of three workers? Go there and turn right. That should be East Zone 2. Then walk straight ahead and you'll reach East Zone 3."

"Okay. We'll go wherever you say!"

The streets of Circle Art City were more chaotic than he had imagined. The originally planned blocks had been illegally altered by artists; some house numbers were hung on trees, some were carved on discarded bricks, and others were simply covered in graffiti. Xiang Nanfeng had come here once two months ago with Lin Shu, but Lin Shu was driving then, and he was so focused on admiring the sculptures along the road that he hadn't memorized the way. Now, in his haste, the more anxious he became, the more lost he became.

The taxi drove around for a full 20 minutes, asking two art students sketching by the roadside before finally stopping at the entrance of a narrow alley.

"Yes, this is the narrow alley, this is it!"

Xiang Nanfeng's memories finally pieced together. He looked at a blue-painted security door deep in the alley, the address "No. 18, East 3rd District" written in red on the wall next to the door, the lettering already faded. Xiang Nanfeng immediately paid the fare and got out of the car, quickly walking to the door. He reached out and knocked, shouting loudly, "Is anyone home? Is anyone home? Is Miss Zuo Hezi home?"

The room was completely silent.

Xiang Nanfeng frowned; he knew he was too late. He sighed, resigned to his fate, and turned to leave. But just then, a man in a dark gray suit walked towards him from the other end of the alley. The man was holding a cell phone, apparently having just finished a call, and was now walking towards him.

"Sir, sir, are you looking for someone?"

"Yes! We're looking for someone!" Xiang Nanfeng's hope was rekindled. "You know her? Zuo Hezi?"

"Yes, I know her. I'm a client manager from Xintie Real Estate. The lady you're looking for just checked out half an hour ago. I'm here to receive her. See, this is my name tag. Our company manages all the studios in this Circle Art City. If you…"

"Alright, alright!" Xiang Nanfeng snatched the business card from his hand before he could finish speaking, and then asked, "You mean half an hour ago?"

The account manager was startled and nodded repeatedly, saying:

"Yes, that lady was carrying a suitcase and asked me to call a taxi for her, saying she needed to go to the airport."

To the airport, taxi? Miss?

Xiang Nanfeng's mind went blank for a moment. It turned out that the girl in the taxi he had met at the entrance of the art city, at the corner of the factory building covered with ivy, was Zuo Hezi! Oh my god, he had just missed her!

"Driver! Driver!" Xiang Nanfeng turned around abruptly. He saw that the taxi that had just dropped him off was still there. He immediately ran a few steps, jumped into the car, and said, "Driver, come on, turn around and take me to Wangshan International Airport!"

At the same time, just as the taxi floored the gas pedal, Xiang Nanfeng suddenly remembered something. He quickly rolled down the window and shouted loudly to the account manager in the alley, "Listen up, I've rented that house. I'll be back in a few hours. You keep it for me, and don't touch anything inside! Don't touch anything!"

The taxi sped off again, kicking up another cloud of smoke, leaving the account manager in the alley looking completely bewildered. He was wondering what the relationship was between the young man who had come and gone in such a hurry and the girl, but whatever their special relationship, the fact that someone would be shouting to rent out a haunted house where someone had died just over two months ago made him regret not stopping Xiang Nanfeng immediately, or at least getting the other person's phone number.

He was afraid of losing this deal, as a house like this would have to remain vacant for who knows how many months.

Of course, Xiang Nanfeng didn't care what the real estate company's account manager thought at this moment. He got back into the car, his mind instantly clearing up. On the way to the airport, he called Shen Feng and got Zuo Hezi's disconnected phone number. Then, he topped up the number and dialed again, hoping to get through. But unfortunately, the same mechanical announcer's voice came through the receiver: "The number you dialed is currently unavailable," which once again plunged him back into the icy abyss of reality.

"Shut down..."

Xiang Nanfeng hung up the phone dejectedly and slumped back in his seat. It seemed he really couldn't contact her anymore. The journey from the Circle Art City to Wangshan International Airport wasn't too far, about a 40-minute drive. Xiang Nanfeng recalled the fleeting moment he had just brushed past Zuo Hezi. He had first been drawn to her by the bright light reflected from the silver metal handle of a suitcase pulled out of the back aisle of the taxi, which was why he had noticed Zuo Hezi in the back seat.

A suitcase that can easily fit between the two rows of seats in a regular car probably wouldn't need to be checked in. And Zuo Hezi left about 20 minutes earlier than him. Even if she drove slowly and he drove fast, considering the time it would take for her to check in and get her ticket at the airport, his chances of stopping her were extremely slim.

At 14:15 PM, the taxi stopped at the entrance of the international departure area of ​​the airport. The 40-minute journey took only 25 minutes, but this still couldn't change the course of fate. Xiang Nanfeng burst through the glass door of the airport departure hall and rushed towards the security checkpoint. He pushed through the surging crowd, stumbling and running inside. His trench coat was deformed from the jostling. He wanted to shout Sawako's name, but before the sound could even leave his throat, it was completely drowned out by the announcements, footsteps, voices, and the rumble of suitcases.

Looking around, the landscape is sparse or crowded, tall or short, a mass of people or a human wall, unobstructed or impenetrable:

He stopped, he tiptoed, he walked quickly, he ran fast, his vision was blocked again and again, Xiang Nanfeng's heart sank into a solid lead block, he felt like a speck of dust swept up by the crowd, he didn't even have a chance to get close to the other person, all that was left was a burning powerlessness.

The electronic display showing real-time flight information scrolled out information for two flights: one to New York and one to Los Angeles. The flight to New York departed at 14:45 PM, and the flight to Los Angeles departed at 14:50 PM. Clearly, regardless of which flight Sawako was taking, she should be waiting at the boarding gate by now.

It's too late, everything is too late.

Xiang Nanfeng's steps halted in the center of the hall, as if all his strength had been drained. Zuo Sigong was dead, Zuo Hezi was gone, and the newly discovered clue had been severed again. The Lou family, the Lou family cemetery, and No. 93 Loubei, leading to the way they came; the Miaoyao Pagoda, the Miaoyao Zen Nunnery, the Nanshan Hall, and the wolf-faced man, leading to the way out—everything had returned to the fog shrouded in the heart of Shounan Mountain. Was he an orphan abandoned by his parents, a boyfriend dumped by Luyao, or the target of the wolf-faced man's pursuit?

Who is he?

The lost child stood in the middle of the fog, in the bustling Wangshan Airport, in this noisy real world, and felt a loneliness he had never felt before. That loneliness was like a huge flame that consumed all the oxygen in the world, leaving only air filled with carbon dioxide and endless, long suffocation.

Xiang Nanfeng slumped down, almost collapsing, as he leaned against the back of the chair outside the security checkpoint. Frustrated, helpless, and lonely, he had lost everything in less than a month, and at this moment, it seemed that no one could help him, including himself.

He didn't know how much time had passed when the hollow, endless descent was interrupted by a cell phone ringing, allowing him a brief escape from the endless hell of his mental world. He took out his phone, staring at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen. Without hesitation, he simply composed himself before swiping to answer, asking in a hoarse voice:

"Feed?"

On the other end of the phone came an unfamiliar voice. Although slightly tired, the voice was remarkably cheerful and excited:

"South Wind? It's me, the Master of Maoxi Gu! So, what have you found out these past few days? I've arrived at Wangshan, I'm here to help you!"

"Ah? Master Maoxi! It's you? It really is you!" The soul, pulled from the abyss, practically jumped off its seat in excitement. "Where are you! Where are you! I'll come find you, I'll come get you!"

"No need, no need, I deliberately didn't tell you in advance. I'm almost out of Wangshan Airport. If you're free now, tell me an address and I'll take a taxi there!"

"No, no! Don't take a taxi. We'll meet at the airport! I'm at the airport! Head out to the taxi exit, I'll come meet you!"

Human hope is beautiful in its myriad forms, but the ray of light in the darkness is the most perfect form of hope. Xiang Nanfeng strode swiftly towards the central escalator, descending, walking briskly, weaving through the air like the wind.

He once again parted the eagerly waiting crowd, squeezing to the front amidst smiling faces.

He had never met Mao Xigu Master before, though perhaps they had brushed past each other countless times in the same university years ago. However, he was still confident that he could recognize this mysterious and tacit partner at a glance in a crowd, just as they had become acquainted and trusted each other after so many years because of a dream and a comment on a forum.

Mao west Gu Master, Mao west Gu Master...

Xiang Nanfeng kept repeating his name in his mind as he ran towards the taxi exit. But just as he was running that way, a familiar yet shocking figure suddenly entered Xiang Nanfeng's field of vision out of the corner of his eye. Black tracksuit, black baseball cap, black hair, and a silver suitcase:

Oh my god, that's Sawako!

Xiang Nanfeng's eyes widened instantly.

It's Sawako! It's her, it's definitely her!

Why didn't she leave? Shouldn't she be in the sky right now, sitting on a plane flying to America?

"Sawako! Sawako!"

Xiang Nanfeng didn't care about the questions anymore, nor did he care about the gazes of everyone around him. He suddenly jumped over the central railing separating the two areas and entered the exit area where Sawako was.

Sure enough, the girl in the crowd was Sawako. This girl seemed to be extraordinary. When she saw a strange man calling her name and "pouncing" on her, she instinctively stopped, stepped back with her right leg, lowered her center of gravity, and put her hands in front of her chest, immediately assuming a ready stance in Japanese karate - the three-part stance.

Xiang Nanfeng was startled by her self-protective stance, and then realized that the other person did not know him at all.

Xiang Nanfeng raised his hands to his chest and swung them back and forth. Then he clasped his hands together and bowed slightly to the other person to show his apology for his abruptness and rudeness.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Kazuko!"

Sawako then lowered her guard and asked in return:

"Who are you?"

Not denying it is affirming it; she only said three words, but they undoubtedly confirmed all of Xiang Nanfeng's guesses:

Yes, that's Zuo Hezi!

Xiang Nanfeng smiled happily, a smile that clearly transcended mere politeness; it was an expression fueled by an explosion of dopamine. He sighed contentedly, preparing how to introduce himself, when just then, a young man who had been walking alongside Zuo Hezi, whom he hadn't noticed at all, stopped. This man, speaking with the same excited and certain tone, was the first to address Nanfeng:

"You? You're Xiang Nanfeng! My God, Xiang Nanfeng!"

Xiang Nanfeng then noticed the person and froze. This person had clearly come with Zuo Hezi: a pink women's backpack was now on top of the luggage cart he was carrying, clearly Zuo Hezi's. But the problem was, Zuo Hezi had clearly been alone; just over an hour ago, when they passed each other at the Circle Art City, she only had a suitcase with her.

"Yes, I am Xiang Nanfeng. You...who are you?"

Xiang Nanfeng looked at the other person in disbelief.

"Me?" The young man slapped his forehead in surprise and asked, "Who are you waiting for here? Who am I? I am the Master of Maoxi Gu, of course!"

"What? The Master of Maoxi Gu?"

Xiang Nanfeng looked bewildered. Yes, he was clearly here to find Master Mao Xi. But why was this person with Zuo Hezi? Thinking of this, he and Master Mao Xi almost simultaneously looked at Zuo Hezi, then immediately resumed their eye contact and asked the exact same question:

"You...how do you know Sawako too!"