Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two: The Return of the Thousand Sounds

Qianyin took a random taxi back to the city alone. She did not go straight to the Mo household, but to the small villa that belonged to the two of them, to see where Cold Blood had gone.

At once she found the place unnervingly quiet. It had not been cleaned for days, and it had grown dirty and messy. Qianyin wondered in silence where Cold Blood had disappeared to.

She cleaned the little villa by herself, tidied everything, trimmed the plants, and looked with satisfaction at what she had done. It was lovely again, nearly the same as before. But something was missing—the warmth, the familiar scent of a lived-in place. How was he not here?

After a light sigh, she finished packing her things, looked at Cold Blood’s car in the garage, and without thinking, got in it—the keys were still there. She drove out to buy some supplies for the house. It was a home, after all; it shouldn’t feel as though everything were absent.

A little trace of him still lingered in the car. Qianyin leaned against it and grinned stupidly for a long while. Her head began to ache, and she stopped moving. Just then, she suddenly noticed Dong and a squad of police officers walking this way.

She parked to one side and walked toward Dong. He had been moving forward and hadn’t noticed her. Only when she reached him did he see her, stunned—Qianyin was supposed to be on Wolfbear Mountain. How could she be here? Had Little Seven been deceived?

Little Seven, too, stood with her mouth open, staring dumbly as Qianyin approached.

“Qianyin sister, how did you come back?”

“I came by myself. What’s wrong?”

She sounded genuinely curious. Everyone around her seemed startled; had some major incident happened that she had somehow missed?

Dong still could not accept it. He pinched his own cheek, as if checking his senses, and was about to speak when Qianyin beat him to it. He stood there, stunned.

“Where is Cold Blood? Why can’t I see him?”

The faces before her were all strangers except Little Seven and Liu Fei, and none of them dared open their mouths. What is this, they did not know. Did she not know Cold Blood was dead?
“It's not—” Little Seven began, but Liu Fei hurriedly covered her mouth and stared anxiously at Dong. If Little Seven dared to tell Qianyin, Liu Fei believed she’d be the one lying on the ground by the next second.

As expected, Dong cast a cold glance at Little Seven, then turned back with a faint smile and said to Qianyin, “Come with me back to the Mo family. Everyone has missed you.”

He glanced over the men and gave them a warning look: if any of you speak again, you may lose your life. Seeing no resistance, he added, “Let’s go. An Feng will be back soon enough to teach you, so I don’t need to do anything.”

The other officers nodded and immediately moved on. Little Seven, reluctant, was dragged away by Liu Fei.

Qianyin watched them leave in confusion, then smiled at Dong and pointed to the car nearby.
“That is Cold Blood’s ride. Come on—I’ll drive you home.”

Dong nodded, expression unreadable, lowered his head, and got into Qianyin’s car. The two drove quickly back to the Mo household.

By then, Mo Lan had already returned. Mo Fan had already been seen by Immortal Elder and put in a room to rest. In the hall, Mo Grandfather and An Feng sat deep in discussion about taking over Wang Pharmacy.
Boss Wang had been left in an empty room, denied even a glass of water. They had not beaten him, but they had locked him away all the same.

When Qianyin and Dong arrived, they found the two deep in conversation. Qianyin was genuinely happy and never noticed Dong’s slightly strange expression.

Immortal Elder came out just then and happened to see Qianyin at the front gate. He hurried forward and hugged her.
“Why are you back? I missed you so much.”

Behind him, Mo Lan stood numb with disbelief, as if she could not imagine how Qianyin had come home—had the boss truly released her?

When Mo Grandfather and An Feng looked up, they were both delighted and astonished. They had not gone to rescue her, and yet she had returned on her own. They all rose up, each ready to embrace her. As she accepted each hug, Qianyin kept scanning the room, searching for Cold Blood.

Dong stood at her side, not knowing what to say, and fearing to face the other three men, afraid they would speak the truth about Cold Blood. Those three had just come out themselves, and when they saw Qianyin they too rushed forward to hug her, each face overtly elated.

When everyone had finished hugging, Qianyin looked around once more and still did not see Cold Blood.

“Where is Cold Blood?” she asked, confused. She rubbed her temples; the moment she spoke his name, her head began to throb again.

A heavy silence filled the room, so complete that even the servant’s footsteps carrying tea and water could be heard.

Each face was troubled. No one knew how to begin. Did she know she had come back? Were they to tell her how?

Mo Lan bit her lip, came forward, took Qianyin’s hand, and sat beside her with a strained smile.
“We thought for a long time about whether to come rescue you. Forgive us. We wanted to, but we didn’t have the power, so—”

Qianyin only understood in fragments. She knew she had been saved and brought back by Boss Jin. She had no idea what had happened. Yet something in everyone’s expressions was wrong. Why did nobody tell her where Cold Blood was? Had something happened to him?

“Boss Jin saved me. I rolled down from the mountain, and he took me back and treated my injuries. When I got better, I said goodbye to him and came looking for you,” Qianyin said. Even then her eyes remained doubtful; these people seemed wrong somehow.

When they heard her explanation, everyone exhaled in relief. Good thing it was not the boss’s family who had released her so easily; that might have been a trap. If Boss Jin saved her, then Qianyin should not have been sent here as a spy.

An Feng pressed his lips together. Could this deceit truly continue? Sooner or later she would realize, wouldn’t she? Besides, by their account, she should have been upstairs that day and should have known what happened. Could she have suffered amnesia from falling from the mountain? Yet she remembered everyone. Could it be temporary memory loss?

“Qianyin sister being back is a blessing enough,” Dong spoke up at once. “Let’s not speak of anything else. No one should tell her Cold Blood is dead—she won’t withstand it.”

An Feng did not reply. He thought they needed a suitable moment to speak. If she suddenly remembered at the wrong time, she would surely go mad.

Dong glanced at everyone, and An Feng’s expression struck him as strange. His eyes went cold.
“Detective An Feng, the people you asked me to train are half dead already. Go back and check on them, let them recover, and then start training them slowly.”

An Feng looked up at Dong, said nothing, then stood and announced, “I’m leaving.” He walked straight out, and his figure carried a touch of solitary pride.