Chapter 43: The Lighting Technician and the Clue

A Thread had not returned all night. Mo Fei woke early, glanced at his phone, and found a message from Lu Chunqiu. Director Qian, who spoke in a slow, unhurried manner, possessed a surprisingly strong drive once he had a goal in mind. In just two or three days, he’d managed to assemble the beginnings of a film crew; now all that remained was to find a script and cast the actors.

Lu Chunqiu sent Mo Fei Director Qian’s contact information, telling him to communicate directly. Mo Fei sent a friend request, but Qian didn’t accept immediately—he was probably busy with other matters.

Mo Fei ruffled his hair, washed up, and started preparing the script. It was a simple story, one that would test the actors’ performances and the director’s visual aesthetic.

He wondered what Qian’s aesthetic taste might be. Remembering the avant-garde art pieces he’d seen at Qian’s studio last time, Mo Fei felt uneasy. With today’s fashion sense, would Qian transform all the costumes into something incomprehensible to ordinary people?

Mo Fei sat before the computer all day, watching sunlight shift from east to west, the morning glow fading into sunset. At last, he managed to record every detail of the dream that had been lingering in his mind.

He sent the document to Qian and breathed a sigh of relief, only then realizing the emptiness in his stomach. Rising to find something to eat, he suddenly felt his vision go dark, the world spinning, and collapsed to the floor.

In his haze, Mo Fei seemed to hear a familiar pounding at the door. Perhaps his fall had been loud enough to startle Granny Zhang downstairs. Yet this time, Mo Fei truly lacked the strength to get up and let her in.

Serene, resigned. He hoped Officer Xu would arrive in time to collect his remains.

His thoughts scattered wildly, until suddenly, something warm and sweet touched his lips. Driven by a primal urge to survive, he gulped it down.

The gentle voice of an elderly woman sounded beside him, “Easy now, child. Don’t rush.”

After the water came a piece of candy, pressed into his mouth. Mo Fei opened his eyes, blurry, and glimpsed the silver-haired old woman smiling at him, her presence radiant and angelic.

Good heavens, angels crossing boundaries? Wasn’t soul-reaping in this land the domain of the Black and White Wardens?

His mind in disarray, Mo Fei stared dully as Granny Zhang moved in and out, eventually bringing him a fragrant bowl of chicken noodle soup.

“Eat up,” Granny Zhang pressed chopsticks into his hand. “You young people, working so hard and neglecting your health. When you wear your bodies out, what will you do then?”

Guided by instinct, Mo Fei devoured the meal in a whirlwind, filling his stomach. Only when blood returned to his brain did he manage to thank her. “You’ve truly saved me this time.”

“Savior,” Mo Fei said, eyes wet with gratitude as he slurped his noodles.

Granny Zhang was amused by his antics. “Don’t exaggerate. We’re neighbors, and you’ve helped me plenty yourself.”

While eating, Mo Fei wondered aloud, “Granny, you don’t have a key—how did you get in?”

Granny Zhang pulled a strange set of tools from her pocket, pointing to two thin iron rods. “With these. Picked the lock.”

She grew nostalgic. “It’s been nearly decades since I used them. Thought I’d forgotten.”

Mo Fei looked at the tools, then at Granny Zhang, his mouth agape. “Ah?”

“I took a wrong turn in my younger years, but that’s all in the past. If I hadn’t heard you crash down, I wouldn’t have used them,” Granny Zhang said breezily, returning the tools to her pocket. “Don’t worry, your lock’s fine—it’ll work as usual.”

Mo Fei gave her a thumbs-up. “A righteous heart, loyal and true.”

Granny Zhang burst out laughing.

Just then, the door was knocked.

“Sit still, I’ll get it,” Granny Zhang said, her lively steps belying her age.

Opening the door, she couldn’t help but size up the visitor, remarking, “What a handsome young fellow. Who are you looking for?”

Ji Xingyu blushed at the compliment, replying politely, “Hello, Granny. May I ask if Mo Fei lives here?”

With his striking looks, Ji Xingyu didn’t particularly enjoy being praised, especially by strangers. Nine out of ten mistook his gender at first glance.

But Granny Zhang clearly discerned his gender, which pleased Ji Xingyu more than the compliment itself.

“Looking for Xiao Fei?” Granny Zhang nodded, calling out, “Xiao Fei, your friend’s here!”

“Friend? I actually have friends who visit?” Mo Fei wondered, carrying his bowl to the door.

Seeing Ji Xingyu, he slurped up the last of his noodles and flashed an innocent smile. “Beautiful one, what brings you here?”

Watching Mo Fei eat, Ji Xingyu couldn’t help but rub his stomach.

Granny Zhang, quick-eyed and warm, called out, “You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Why not stay for a bite?”

Ji Xingyu quickly waved his hands. “No need, thank you. I’m here to discuss some work matters with Mo Fei.”

“Work can wait till after you’ve eaten,” Granny Zhang insisted, pulling him inside. “The noodles are in the pot—just a bowl, sit down.”

Ji Xingyu had little experience dealing with elders, and was clearly at a loss before Granny Zhang’s kindness.

Mo Fei raised his hand. “Granny, another bowl please!”

Granny Zhang scolded playfully, “Enough, you can’t eat that much after starving all day.”

Mo Fei sheepishly lowered his hand and turned to Ji Xingyu. “What work did you want to discuss?”

“Let me say first, your brother’s already arranged a job for me. Overwork is not encouraged.”

“I know,” Ji Xingyu said, showing Mo Fei a message on his phone. “This is from Qian. I’m now the lighting technician on your crew.”

Mo Fei glanced at it—it was true.

He arched a brow. “Are you that art student?”

Ji Xingyu nodded.

“Alright, but even work talk needs a full stomach,” Granny Zhang said, placing a bowl slightly smaller than Mo Fei’s in front of Ji Xingyu.

“Thank you, Granny.”

Granny Zhang beamed at Ji Xingyu’s polite thanks. “Such a good young man, much better than my old man ever was.”

Ji Xingyu ate delicately, a bit embarrassed to be watched by both of them.

Mo Fei yawned, catching a shadow out of the corner of his eye.

A Thread’s cheeky voice rang out: ‘Kiddo, your feline lord has sorted it out.’

A Thread emerged from the shadows into the living room, as elegant and restrained as ever, though now haphazardly bound with rope and bearing a sheet of paper.

Granny Zhang was startled. “Little Black, what happened to you?”

“It’s nothing,” Mo Fei said, untying the rope. “I asked it to investigate something for me.”

‘All the information’s on the paper.’

A Thread licked its paw: ‘Saw a dog, nearly lost a few of my brothers.’

Mo Fei unfolded the paper and praised it offhandedly, “On behalf of Officer Xu and the abducted, thank you and your whole family.”