Song Miao lit three incense sticks for me. I held them, knelt on the prayer mat, bowed three times, said a few words expressing my longing, and then inserted the incense into the censer.
“Um, little sister, this is just a small token of my regard as a classmate,” I said, pulling out a wad of cash I had prepared in advance from my pocket, deliberately showing Chen Lu its thickness.
It was ten thousand yuan, not five thousand, making me seem generous and avoiding the need to explain anything about repayment.
Chen Lu nodded approvingly and secretly gave me a thumbs-up, praising my thoughtfulness.
Song Miao refused a few times, but Chen Lu persuaded her to accept it.
After paying respects to Song Lei, we moved to the living room. Song Miao brewed tea for Chen Lu and me. I took the opportunity to ask, “Little sister, where are your other family members?”
Chen Lu chimed in, “Brother Lei’s parents passed away early. It was just the two of them, relying on each other.”
Song Miao nodded, her expression quite calm. After all, her brother had been gone for four years, and she wouldn’t be overly sentimental anymore.
“What do you live on now? Is your spending covered?” I asked. She was only eighteen and likely still in high school.
“It’s enough,” Song Miao said shyly. “My brother died in the line of duty, and his unit gave a compensation of three million yuan. Combined with the over one million my brother had saved, and with Sister Lulu’s help in setting up a wealth management product for me—I don’t really understand it, but I don’t have to touch the principal, and the monthly interest is over ten thousand yuan, which is enough for my studies and daily expenses.”
Chen Lu nodded. “Yes, my father knows the top executive at their Fucheng Bank, so he specifically opened an account for her. Don’t worry, Chengfeng, it’s very secure. When Miaomiao graduates from university, I’ll return the principal to her in one lump sum, so she doesn’t get scammed by bad people.”
“You really are a good classmate,” I said with a smile.
“We’re classmates and also from the same hometown, so our relationship has always been good. It’s what I should do. The main thing is that Song Lei’s unit was very generous; not many units offer such high compensation these days,” Chen Lu said.
“What unit did he work for?” I asked.
“What was it called… the Jiuxian Cave Management Committee?” Chen Lu asked, looking at Song Miao for confirmation. Song Miao nodded and said yes.
It seemed the tombstone I saw on the mountain last night was indeed real, with the Jiuxian Cave Management Committee listed as the person who erected it.
Wait, that’s not right. Shouldn’t the Jiuxian Cave Management Committee be allied with Hanyin Temple?
And Song Lei’s identity was “Yebushou,” an enemy of Jiuxian Cave.
“Do you remember who brought the compensation?” I asked Song Miao.
“It was a tall, very pretty older sister who said she was my brother’s colleague.”
“Did she look a bit like Liu Yan?” I gestured to my chest, cupping it.
Song Miao looked confused. “Who is Liu Yan?”
I took out my phone, found a photo from her WeChat moments, and showed it to her.
“Yes, yes, it was this sister. Brother Wu, do you know her?”
Chen Lu also leaned in to look. “Wow, she’s quite large!”
It wasn’t that Chen Lu wasn’t endowed; hers were also impressive, but Shen Xingyue’s were truly beyond the norm.
Now I understood what was going on. Song Lei wasn’t actually affiliated with the Jiuxian Cave Management Committee at all. Shen Xingyue, feeling guilty after killing Song Lei, had deceived the naive Song Miao, posing as her brother’s colleague and fabricating the Jiuxian Cave Management Committee to deliver a substantial sum as compensation. Otherwise, how could the amount be so high? A legitimate state-owned enterprise wouldn't offer such benefits.
I hadn’t forgotten the purpose of my visit, so I changed the subject and suggested we look at Song Lei’s room, to reminisce.
Song Miao led me to the east room, which served as both a bedroom and a study, with a primary focus on the study function.
The antique bookshelf was filled with numerous books, mostly ancient texts in thread-bound editions, and even a few books in Manchu. Their condition indicated they were quite valuable. It was clear Song Lei had put in a lot of effort to research Yaoyao. Compared to him, my ten-question sticky note was just a drop in the ocean.
I wondered, however, where Song Lei’s connection to Yaoyao originated. Had he also experienced the same dreams as me? Thinking about it, I felt a pang of jealousy!
Song Miao’s phone rang. “Brother Wu, you look around. I need to step out to take a call.”
“Okay,” I replied.
After Song Miao left, I scanned the L-shaped bookshelf, unsure where to begin.
Unintentionally, my gaze fell upon a small bookshelf on the desk, with about ten books stacked on it. Their spines bore no titles, only numerical labels from one to ten.
I pulled one out and opened it. It wasn’t a book but Song Lei’s diary!
I felt like I had struck gold. Who keeps a diary these days! But I hadn’t expected this guy to have the old habit of writing a diary! Diaries are very private documents, and it was highly likely that Song Lei’s records about Yaoyao would be in here!