After crudely bandaging himself, Yuan Wenhai struggled for a while before finally climbing up to the roadside. He looked anxiously in both directions several times before turning to Xiao Liang, who was sitting on the edge of the road.

 

“No cars yet?” he asked. “At this hour… there might not be any passing through tonight. We may have to go to a nearby village and find help.”

 

“Captain Yuan,” Xiao Liang said calmly, “I can’t go back to the county with you.”

 

He knew full well that Yuan Wenhai had climbed up here largely because he feared Xiao Liang might run.

 

When Xiao Liang saw Yuan Wenhai instinctively reach toward his waist, he spoke again, his voice steady.

 

“Don’t bother pretending, Captain Yuan. When I pulled you out of the wreck just now, I saw your gun fall inside the car.”

 

“Besides, I risked my life to save you. You’re not really planning to shoot me now, are you?”

 

“You don’t strike me as the sort of man who blindly abuses the law. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten drunk tonight and dozed off behind the wheel, sending the car straight into the ditch.”

 

“Your situation isn’t serious,” Yuan Wenhai said sternly. “If you come with us to the county, things can be explained clearly. But if you run now, do you understand what that means? Fleeing in fear of guilt will only add another charge.”

 

“I know very well that I’ve been framed,” Xiao Liang replied evenly. “And I also know that even if I obediently go with you to the county and eventually get released for lack of evidence, some people will still

keep throwing dirt on me.”

 

“There are people in Yunshe Town who are far dirtier than you imagine, Captain Yuan.”

 

Xiao Liang looked somewhat scholarly at first glance, but he stood over six feet tall. Before graduating, he had been a top athlete in his department.

 

Even with his right arm broken, the veteran detective Yuan Wenhai wasn’t someone Xiao Liang feared.

 

More importantly, the combat instincts Xiao Liang had honed through years of Sanda training in his previous life had already become second nature.

 

Even if Yuan Wenhai’s arm hadn’t been broken, Xiao Liang was confident he could still “reason” with him calmly.

 

Before his rebirth, Xiao Liang had imagined countless times what choices he would make if he ever got the chance to start over.

 

Now that chance had truly arrived.

 

Perhaps heaven had taken pity on him.

 

Perhaps heaven believed that Xiao Yujun and his accomplices had committed too many sins and deserved to be dealt with.

 

How could Xiao Liang possibly waste such an opportunity?

 

“If you run now,” Yuan Wenhai continued patiently, “what will you do? Spend the rest of your life as a wanted fugitive?”

 

“If I had really done what they accuse me of, then yes—running away and disappearing would be the obvious thing to do,” Xiao Liang said calmly.

 

“But the people who framed me would be terrified if I secretly returned to Yunshe.”

 

“They’d be afraid I’d come back to dig up evidence of their scheme.”

 

He looked directly at Yuan Wenhai.

 

“So if you later learn that someone insists on setting up surveillance in Yunshe Town to capture me, wouldn’t that prove I was framed from beginning to end?”

 

“Whether I believe you or not doesn’t change anything,” Yuan Wenhai said. “You know we work under strict discipline. If you escape from my custody today and I fail to catch you now, I’ll still do everything I can to capture you later.”

 

“Come on, Captain Yuan—no need to be so serious.”

 

For nearly thirty years in his previous life, Yuan Wenhai had been one of the very few people in Dongzhou with whom Xiao Liang maintained contact.

 

Xiao Liang understood Yuan Wenhai far better than the man himself realized.

 

Yuan Wenhai had principles and a strong sense of loyalty—but he wasn’t the sort of rigid man who saw everything in black and white.

 

Xiao Liang gave him a calm smile. Even he was surprised he could still smile at a moment like this.

 

“Such a serious accident has already happened tonight. You’re all badly injured. We don’t even know yet whether Chen Shen and Zhou Jun will survive.”

 

“If I manage to escape, what responsibility will you really bear? I ran—that’s all. What can the county blame you for?”

 

“But if you drag me back now and I let slip that Captain Yuan fell asleep behind the wheel after drinking too much… well, that’s when you’d really have a headache.”

 

“Don’t think you can threaten me with that,” Yuan Wenhai snapped angrily, fixing Xiao Liang with a hard stare as he moved to grab him. “I’m not the kind of man who gives in to blackmail.”

 

Xiao Liang stepped back two paces.

 

“Threaten you? I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Right now I’m begging for your sympathy.”

 

“If not tonight, then at least after you realize I was framed.”

 

“The truth is, this accident has already happened. As long as I keep quiet, Chen Shen, Du Jiang, and Zhou Jun will never admit they got you drunk tonight.”

 

“And if I’m captured a few days from now, even if I try to accuse you then, who would believe me?”

 

“This night has been exhausting enough for everyone. Let’s all save our strength.”

 

—

 

The eastern coastal region of Jiang Province was mostly flat plains.

 

Suyun Mountain, located northeast of Dongzhou City in the southeastern corner of Shishan County, was one of the rare places in the region that could even remotely be described as “lofty mountains.”

 

Strictly speaking, Suyun Mountain was more of a hilly range than a true mountain.

 

It stretched roughly twelve or thirteen kilometers east to west and four or five kilometers north to south, consisting of nine peaks of varying size that fell under the jurisdiction of three towns: Yunshe, Sucheng, and Xikou.

 

During the two years Xiao Liang had worked in Yunshe after graduation, he often ventured into the mountains.

 

Even earlier, as a student, he had loved exploring the forests.

 

Though two or three decades had blurred many memories, Xiao Liang was confident that once he disappeared into the woods, it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to find him.

 

He emerged from a patch of apple trees.

 

Not far ahead, tucked in a small hollow in the hills, stood a crude shack made from waterproof tarpaulin.

 

Under the moonlight, Xiao Liang peeked inside.

 

The shelter contained little more than a rough bed made of wooden planks with a tattered straw mat on top.

 

After climbing and scrambling through the forest for nearly an hour—on top of everything else he had endured that day—Xiao Liang realized he wasn’t particularly exhausted.

 

Earlier, Xiao Yujun had beaten him several times.

 

Then there had been the car crash.

 

Yet somehow he had suffered no serious injuries.

 

Energy still surged through his young body.

 

His muscles were sharply defined, his skin firm and healthy—the unmistakable vitality of youth.

 

All of it made him believe even more strongly that he had truly returned to 1994, inhabiting his twenty-two-year-old body once again.

 

With a body this young and healthy, even if he did nothing else, simply living life again would already be a blessing.

 

He chuckled quietly to himself.

 

*If heaven grants a man his youth once more, it must be because the spring breeze wishes to cherish the flowers.*

 

Sitting on the dirt ledge outside the shack, Xiao Liang bit into a small green apple he had just picked from the forest.

 

The fruit was barely larger than a baby’s fist.

 

One bite nearly made his eyebrows jump—the sourness was intense.

 

The shack where Xiao Liang rested stood only three or four hundred meters above the crash site.

 

By now the flames had died down.

 

Under the bright moonlight, he could see a cargo truck parked along the road below.

 

Seven or eight villagers had also rushed over after hearing the accident. Their flashlight beams swung through the darkness as they worked together to carry the injured Zhou Jun, Du Jiang, and Chen Shen up from the ravine.

 

The county seat was only sixteen or seventeen kilometers away.

 

Even if Yuan Wenhai didn’t manage to reach a nearby village to call the authorities immediately, the county bureau would likely inform the township about Xiao Liang’s escape within an hour at most.

 

He couldn’t return to Yunshe recklessly without preparing anything.

 

Of course, he was only suspected of attempted rape—not some vicious murderer.

 

The county police wouldn’t expend enormous resources to hunt him down.

 

Most likely, they would organize a search party from Yunshe Town to comb Suyun Mountain.

 

At the same time, the county bureau would probably send officers to stake out his home in Dongzhou City.

 

Thinking of this, Xiao Liang forced himself to swallow several half-ripe apples to replenish his energy.

 

Just to be cautious, he stuffed the apple cores into his pocket rather than leaving them behind.

 

—

 

After climbing slopes and crossing gullies along remote paths, dawn was already breaking when he reached Plum Blossom Ridge.

 

Standing at the southern cliff of the ridge, Xiao Liang looked down.

 

The broad valley below stretched four or five kilometers deep, filled with dense pine and cypress trees. In the pale blue morning mist, the forest looked like an enormous dark-green carpet unfurled across the earth.

 

To the southeast, two or three kilometers away, a mound-like rise could be seen.

 

That place was known as General’s Slope.

 

More than sixty years earlier, a fierce battle had taken place there. Many Red Army soldiers had died and were buried on that slope.

 

Locals often called the place the Red Army Graves.

 

In his previous life, one major reason Xiao Liang had been detained for six months—aside from Xiao Yujun’s manipulation—was connected to an incident that happened on the same day he was framed.

 

An elderly man of extraordinary background had gone into the mountains alone to pay tribute to the fallen soldiers.

 

Near the Red Army graves, he encountered several thugs carrying hunting rifles and poaching in the forest.

 

When the old man tried to stop them, they shoved him into a ravine, breaking his leg.

 

Unable to climb out, the old man remained trapped in the mountains.

 

Only after his family contacted provincial authorities, who then alerted the city government, did a search team finally find him four or five days later.

 

By then, the old man had nearly starved to death.

 

Xiao Liang had only learned about the incident after he was acquitted and released.

 

Yuan Wenhai had told him about it.

 

The provincial government had been furious and ordered Dongzhou to launch a strict crackdown on public security. During that period, nearly every criminal case in the city was handled with maximum severity.

 

Xiao Liang’s case had been exploited perfectly by Xiao Yujun and certain people who already had their eyes on Xiao Liang’s family.

 

He remembered it vividly.

 

In the dim blue dawn, Xiao Liang followed a rugged path along the mountain ridge toward the Red Army graves on the southern slope.

 

Sucheng Town had built a small martyrs’ memorial cemetery there years earlier, though it was extremely simple.

 

A rusted iron fence enclosed a plot of land barely an acre in size.

 

The graves were protected by low concrete walls, and a cement monument stood before them—less than two meters tall.

 

Eight characters were engraved upon it:

 

*“The Revolutionary Martyrs Shall Live Forever.”*

 

Before the monument lay a bottle of Fenjinting liquor and more than a dozen cigarettes pinned beneath a brick.

 

The cigarettes showed no signs of rain damage.

 

Someone had clearly come here to pay respects within the past two days.

 

Xiao Liang carefully observed the surrounding forest.

 

There were no signs that anyone had passed through recently.

 

He followed the narrow dirt path south of the graves.

 

After about a hundred meters, he noticed marks left by a motorcycle’s tires.

 

The trail was less than two meters wide, winding precariously along slopes and gullies, with dense vegetation on both sides.

 

The area wasn’t completely deserted, but it lay deep within Suyun Mountain. It wouldn’t be unusual for days to pass without a single traveler.

 

Another forty or fifty meters ahead, Xiao Liang noticed shrubs along the roadside that looked crushed and disturbed.

 

“Is… anyone there?”

 

A weak voice called from below.

 

It wasn’t yet six in the morning, but daylight had already begun to brighten the mountains.

 

Xiao Liang pushed aside the bushes and looked down into the steep ravine.

 

An elderly man with graying hair and a thin frame was standing on tiptoe at the bottom.

 

The ravine appeared only about two meters deep, but its sides were extremely steep and the bottom was filled with jagged rocks.

 

All around were scrape marks where someone had tried repeatedly to climb out.

 

It was obvious the old man had been struggling for quite some time—and had failed every attempt.