After his brother went back into the apartment building, Xiao Liang decided against calling home again. He was afraid his father might notice something unusual and inadvertently ruin his plans.

Instead, he stepped out of the phone booth and boarded a bus.

Out of habit, he climbed on through the front door. Only when he saw there was no coin box did he suddenly remember—this was still the era when bus conductors ruled the buses.

Damn these little details of the times. No matter how much he tried to recall in a day or two, there were always things he missed.

“To the Normal College,” Xiao Liang said, walking toward the rear door and handing a coin to the conductor.

Although Su City Town and Yun Society Town both belonged to Shishan County, they were closer to the city. Years earlier, a bus route had already been established—starting from the Normal College in Dongzhou, passing through Huangqiao on the outskirts, then Su City Town, and ending at Nanting Village in Yun Society Town.

The morning rush hour had already passed, and only a few passengers remained on the bus.

The conductor was a stout, dark-skinned middle-aged woman sitting firmly in her special seat facing the rear door. She gave Xiao Liang a brief look, moistening her thick lips with her finger before tearing a ticket from the pad and handing it over.

After the No. 9 bus traveled five or six kilometers, the modest peaks of Mount Suyun—no more than three or four hundred meters high—already began to appear with a certain rugged grandeur. Soon the bus entered Su City Town.

Su City lay south of Mount Suyun. With pleasant scenery and its proximity to Dongzhou City, it was somewhat more developed than Yun Society Town.

The main town area revolved around a crossroads street. Some families had built two-story houses along it, though most dwellings were still low and shabby.

At the intersection stood the Supply and Marketing Cooperative and the Rural Credit Union—both constructed in the auditorium-style architecture common in the 1960s and ’70s. The newly built cinema was practically the only structure in Su City that could be called impressive.

Xiao Liang found a small private inn near the intersection and rented a room. In 1994, staying at a rural inn didn’t require registering an ID card.

There were no convenience stores or supermarkets like those that would appear decades later. Aside from the cooperative’s retail outlet, there were only traditional corner shops squeezed between small storefronts. Even something as common as Master Kong instant noodles was still rare in small towns.

The cooperative store carried a wider variety of goods, but when Xiao Liang walked in, the clerk behind the glass counter merely glanced at him with faint curiosity before returning to knitting a sweater—or perhaps losing herself in some juicy local rumor about who had been rolling in bed with whom.

Xiao Liang bought some food, water, and paper with a pen, then returned to his room.

He stayed there all afternoon, patiently recalling every detail of the frame-up from back then and writing them down carefully in his notebook.

He resisted the urge to contact Yuan Wenhai.

To Yuan right now, Xiao Liang was simply a suspect who knew he had caused the crash by drunk driving and had escaped from his custody. They didn’t yet share the decades of friendship they had in Xiao Liang’s previous life.

Nor could he rush to contact Sui Jing.

She would soon arrive in Yun Society Town and find nothing there. Who knew what mood she would be in then?

Would she realize she’d been played and feel furious? Or would she assume Xiao Liang had already fallen into Xiao Yujun’s hands?

Xiao Liang never expected Sui Jing to uncover the truth within a few days. What he wanted was simply for her to notice the inconsistencies and start investigating—stirring the muddy waters of Yun Society Town, disrupting Xiao Yujun’s plans, and keeping Xiao Yujun and his allies distracted there.

Toward evening, Xiao Liang finally left his room. Downstairs, he chatted casually with the slightly overweight innkeeper, a man in his early forties, picking up bits of information about the current situation in Su City Town to fill in gaps or faded spots in his memory.

Afterward, he went to the barbershop next door and got a middle-part hairstyle—the kind that had only recently become fashionable thanks to Hong Kong and Taiwanese pop culture.

Then he wandered through several small shops around town, buying a fisherman’s sun hat, a dark gray jacket, jeans, a T-shirt, a razor, a canvas bag, and a few harmless-looking but practical tools.

When he graduated and began working in Yun Society Town, his family didn’t need his financial support. He spent his salary on himself and never bothered depositing it in the bank.

Fortunately, he still had over four hundred yuan in his wallet—considered a small fortune in this era. At least he didn’t have to worry about pocket change.

By early June, the weather was already growing warm. People in the streets had begun wearing shirts and T-shirts.

Xiao Liang had a tall, slender build—not yet the muscular physique he would gain later through years of sanda training. If he wanted to avoid being recognized by acquaintances, he needed the jeans and jacket to make his silhouette appear a bit bulkier.

Luckily, his beard grew thick. Back in Yun Society he used to shave daily to maintain a tidy appearance. Now, after two days without shaving, dark stubble covered his chin and cheeks, which were still slightly swollen. With a bit of grooming—without looking deliberately scruffy—few people would recognize him.

The bruising and swelling on his face had mostly faded by now.

After night fell, Xiao Liang put on the jeans and jacket and carried the fisherman’s hat in his hand. Looking like a fashionable young man from a small town, he strolled out of the inn and entered a small noodle shop directly across from the Su City police station.

He ordered a bowl of beef noodles and quietly watched the courtyard across the street.

Back then, after he was acquitted, Xiao Liang had investigated some things—even though he never found enough evidence to bring Xiao Yujun down.

For example, He Hong’s mother lived right across from the noodle shop, in a rundown courtyard next to the Su City police station. And for certain reasons, He Hong had recently been bringing her daughter there every evening after school.

Sometimes He Hong stayed overnight at her mother’s house. Other times her mother took the girl to school the next morning.

He just didn’t know if tonight would be any different.

Xiao Liang slowly stirred the noodles with his chopsticks, glancing occasionally at the quartz clock on the wall.

Just after six-thirty, a small Suzuki motorcycle turned the corner from the crossroads street.

He Hong stopped the bike at the courtyard gate. Planting her right foot slightly behind her, she pushed the motorcycle over the raised threshold.

Her long dress stretched tight as she exerted force, perfectly outlining the alluring curves of her hips and back.

Xiao Liang’s eyelids twitched involuntarily.

Even though He Hong was the primary culprit who had framed him, he had to admit she was an attractive woman.

Her figure was slim and tall, yet carried the full softness unique to a mature young wife.

In plain terms—thin, but not bony.

—

When Xiao Liang first started working in Yun Society Town, He Hong had been temporarily assigned from Nanting Village to work at the Party and Government Office. Their desks had been right next to each other.

Xiao Liang had been born in 1973.

After order was restored in 1976, both his parents became key staff members in their work units and rarely had time to look after him. Institutional kindergartens and daycare centers had not yet been restored.

His older brother Xiao Xiao had just started elementary school, and every day he was forced to drag little Xiao Liang along to class.

Following along, Xiao Liang learned pinyin and arithmetic. His comprehension was far beyond most children his age—almost as good as his brother’s.

When the new semester began, their parents simply enrolled him in the school.

Although he was three years younger than his brother, he was only one grade behind.

Starting school two years earlier than his peers meant he matured later emotionally than his classmates—but that didn’t mean he felt nothing for He Hong when she was at the peak of her beauty.

If anything, the vibrant and alluring He Hong awakened feelings in him that had developed later than usual.

But when he first started working, he was still too naïve. Deep down, he believed that harboring improper thoughts about another man’s wife was extremely immoral.

At the time, He Hong was studying for self-taught exams and often asked him for help with her coursework. Xiao Liang always kept a careful distance.

Later, when she returned to the village and Xiao Liang sensed that her relationship with Xiao Yujun was not quite normal, he deliberately kept even farther away.

During the period when Xiao Liang was auditing the finances of Nanting Village and its juice factory, He Hong had tried to seduce him several times.

On bus rides she would deliberately sit next to him, pressing her thigh—or her soft, full hips—against him.

At dinner tables she would casually brush his foot with her toes beneath the table.

Xiao Liang had never encountered anything like that before.

He would either blush furiously and retreat, or pretend not to notice.

Until the night Du Xuebing and Xiao Yujun got him drunk.

When he woke at dawn, he suddenly found He Hong sitting astride him—her cheeks flushed, her soft waist wrapped in a long dress.

Whether in his previous life or in the moment he reopened his eyes after rebirth, Xiao Liang remembered clearly that there had been physical contact between them.

Yet both in the past and now, when He Hong gave her statement to the police, she never mentioned that critical detail.

She only said that when he woke up drunk he tried to force himself on her, tearing her clothes but failing to go further.

Later, when the case was transferred to the procuratorate, He Hong never appeared in person to testify. There were also several inconsistencies in her written statement.

Those flaws had been a major reason Xiao Liang was eventually acquitted.

Back then, Xiao Liang believed she had hidden those details simply to protect her reputation.

In rural towns in 1994, there was a huge difference between a woman being known as someone who had been raped and someone who had narrowly escaped an attempted assault.

But now, reborn in 1994, Xiao Liang’s emotions grew more complicated when his gaze shifted to the slender figure standing beside He Hong.

When Xiao Liang approached Lin Xi in his previous life, she had already been a freshman at the Provincial University of Finance and Economics.

He never expected that at this moment, twelve-year-old Lin Xi—who hadn’t even started middle school yet—was already almost as tall as her mother.

Just then, He Hong’s mother, who walked with a slight limp, stepped out into the courtyard and switched on the light outside the wall.

The sudden brightness washed away the dimness of the yard.

Xiao Liang saw Lin Xi’s face—pale and delicate as snow. Aside from an obvious youthful softness, it looked almost identical to how it would appear seven or eight years later.

Her body had already developed fully.

But the girl stood with slightly hunched shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with how certain parts of her body had matured far faster than her peers, attracting unwanted attention.

After Xiao Liang began working in Yun Society Town, he learned that He Hong’s marriage to her husband Lin Xuetong was cold and distant. Lin Xuetong worked away from home year-round and paid little attention to rumors about He Hong.

Yet in 1995, Lin Xuetong suddenly returned one day and attacked Xiao Yujun with a knife.

At the time, rumors spread that he hadn’t acted out of anger over He Hong becoming Xiao Yujun’s mistress.

Rather, it was because Xiao Yujun had done something to Lin Xi.

Xiao Liang rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.

He Hong had been going out of her way to bring her daughter here every night after school.

Maybe Xiao Yujun’s predatory intentions toward Lin Xi had begun earlier than anyone suspected.

Xiao Liang bought a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches from the convenience stall next door, then slipped into a narrow alley south of the shop.

He emptied the matchbox, leaving only three matches inside.

Su City Town had installed streetlights by 1994, but the ordinary incandescent bulbs hung high on concrete poles and were partially blocked by tree branches, leaving the streets dim.

Xiao Liang crouched in the shadows of the alley, silently watching the courtyard across the street.

After dinner at her mother’s house, He Hong pushed the Suzuki motorcycle back out of the courtyard around eight o’clock.

This time her limping mother helped lift the bike over the threshold.

He Hong’s father had died years ago. The fact that her mother allowed her to ride back alone this late meant she knew nothing about what had happened in the past two days.

The courtyard light remained on.

Through the iron gate, Lin Xi could be seen practicing jump rope in the yard.

People often say “a heart pounding like a startled deer” to describe nervousness.

But as the little girl skipped rope, she truly looked like a deer bounding lightly in place.