Chapter Thirty: The Woman in White

According to Fat Bai’s recollection, he never knew this girl Xiao Jiu’er’s true nationality, origins, background, or even her age. All he knew was that she was a girl, appearing especially pure, fair-skinned, and not talkative. She only liked to cook and “play” with some things others found utterly disgusting and incomprehensible.

Fat Bai particularly emphasized that she loved to sing—songs that no one could understand, songs that seemed to bleed with sorrow.

The first time Boss Bai met Xiao Jiu’er was in a remote mountain area in Laos.

At the time, Fat Bai and his men were being relentlessly pursued by the Chinese border guards. Of the eleven brothers he’d brought with him, only the “Four Heavenly Guardians” remained. They were out of ammunition and had run out of food. Even so, Fat Bai resisted stubbornly. They managed to march on foot for three days and nights, then smuggled across the Mekong River, fleeing from the Yunnan forests along the river into an unknown mountainous region of Laos.

Of course, their combativeness didn’t come from any sense of conviction or lofty ideals—they simply felt their crimes were so grave that, if caught, there was nothing left for them but death.

When the five brothers finally crawled from the icy, turbulent Mekong to the riverbank, they had reached the most desperate point of their lives.

At this point, Fat Bai discovered his map had been ruined by the water, his guns were empty, and he didn’t dare turn on his phone. What lay before him was the sprawling, uncharted Laotian jungle and a completely unknown landscape.

All they knew was they were alive, and they were in Laos. Nothing more.

The jungles they once moved through with ease had, in an instant, become unfamiliar enemies.

In the darkness, Fat Bai and his four men lingered near the Mekong for three days, too afraid to light a fire, surviving only on earthworms and wild vegetables. Hunger had left them dizzy and weak at the knees.

It was then that Fat Bai finally understood the old Chinese saying: “No matter how good things are, nothing beats being full and well-fed.”

Though he still had two boxes of gold bars, a wad of red bills, and a stack of American dollars, who would sell him food? He wanted to hunt some wild game, but realized in despair all he had were a few broken guns and not a single bullet. When he encountered wild boar or wolves, he had to give them a wide berth.

Such days—neither quite human nor ghost—drove Fat Bai into utter despair. In a single day, he tried to kill himself twice, but failed both times. In the end, he resolved to endure one more night and then turn himself in.

Why surrender now? Because he and his men agreed: better to be shot by the police than starve to death in the forest. At least then, they’d get one last meal.

It was during this agonizing night that Fat Bai’s fate took a sudden turn.

That night, driven by hunger, he couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning. The idea of surrendering the next day weighed heavily on him. Regret gnawed at him, but regret was useless.

Just as he was wracked by remorse and tears, Fat Bai suddenly saw a white figure bounding through the jungle.

At first, Boss Bai thought he was seeing things.

But when he rubbed his eyes and looked again, he was stunned.

He saw, under the moonlight, a woman in a white dress sitting beneath a cluster of white orchids—combing her hair.

Boss Bai nearly fainted from fright.

Think about it. In the wild mountains and forests, under the sinister moon, something like this appearing out of nowhere—no one could bear it.

His mind spun with wild thoughts.

…Who was this woman? A mountain spirit? A forest demon? A fox goddess? Or just a lost traveler? Boss Bai was both startled and curious, unable to fathom the girl’s purpose.

After observing for a while, his pounding heart calmed a little.

He realized that, though the girl was a bit eerie, she was not as terrifying as he had imagined. The scene before him even carried a strange grace and comfort. The more he watched, the more his mood steadied.

After all, Boss Bai was a wanted man used to big events. He thought to himself: even if this woman was a ghost, she was still a lifeline. He had no way out, after all.

He’d rather be scared to death by a ghost than starve slowly. Maybe, if he approached, there would be a glimmer of hope.

Driven by a fierce survival instinct, Boss Bai quietly got up, grabbed a knife, and crept toward the girl.

In the silence, he stopped about a dozen paces away from her.

He was stunned!

Because he saw the woman wasn’t combing her hair at all.

What was she doing, then? She was cutting meat!

Boss Bai saw clearly: kneeling beside the girl in white was a black-brown leopard.

The leopard seemed bewitched, bowing obediently before the girl, while she, with both hands gripping a primitive knife, slowly sliced open the side of the leopard’s belly.

With each cut, the leopard’s body trembled, its face twisted in pain and fear.

Yet, it didn’t dare resist. In fact, it barely made a sound, let alone a roar.

The large beast, taller than a man, seemed utterly subdued by the girl’s presence.

The scene was so bizarre it nearly made Boss Bai’s eyes pop out, filling him with deep dread toward this slight girl.

At that moment, Fat Bai wanted nothing more than to flee—far, far away from this woman.

But just then, the girl in the white dress suddenly spoke.

Without looking up, she addressed Fat Bai: “Are you hungry?”

She spoke in Chinese…

Hearing her, Boss Bai’s mind went blank, and he almost forgot how to speak.

Then the girl said, “This is not your food. You cannot eat it.”

Her words jolted Boss Bai back to his senses, and also revived his gnawing hunger.

In the moonlight, Boss Bai watched the leopard’s belly slowly being opened. The hunger surged uncontrollably. If not for the strangeness of the scene, he might have considered eating the leopard raw.

But under the girl’s “intimidation,” Fat Bai dared not move a muscle.

Even so, his drive to survive gave him the courage to speak.

So, with a trembling hand, he pointed to the leopard’s tail and stammered in awkward Chinese, “...Share some meat with me, I’ll buy it.”

At that, the girl stopped cutting.

She withdrew the bloody knife from the leopard’s body. In the moonlight, it glinted with a chilling hue.

She stood up, and with a voice filled with resentment, questioned Fat Bai, “Do you think you can buy anything with money?”

As she spoke, she slowly raised her head…

Boss Bai saw a young, beautiful face—marred by one flaw…

The girl had no eyes. Only… empty, black sockets.

Staring at the two gaping holes on her face, Boss Bai collapsed in terror, his knife falling to the ground.

“Ghost—!” Boss Bai was finished. He wanted to scream, but could only utter that one word, then fell into a fit of fearful trembling.

The woman advanced step by step, closing in on Fat Bai. When she was three or four steps away, she suddenly stopped.

The girl smiled—a smile full of satisfaction at his terror. It was a beautiful smile, on a beautiful face, but for the lack of eyes.

“Do you want to live?” the girl asked unexpectedly.

Fat Bai nodded desperately without thinking.

“In this forest, without food, you’ll die sooner or later,” she said.

Driven purely by the instinct to survive, Fat Bai choked out, “I want food!”

The girl then smiled faintly, lifted her bloodstained hand, and pointed behind Fat Bai. “Isn’t that food?”

Fat Bai froze for a moment, then realized what she meant.

He turned around.

He saw his four sleeping companions.

“Eat people…” Fat Bai’s lips trembled. He could barely speak.

Though he had once been a feared warlord, a remorseless killer, willing to commit any evil for profit, the thought of eating human flesh had never even crossed his mind…

But at that critical moment, the woman’s ghostly whisper sounded right at his ear, seductive and insistent:

“Don’t hesitate. Everything has a first time. Wasn’t your first time killing, your first time taking a bribe, your first time betraying, all nerve-wracking? You’ll get used to it.”

Her words slithered into Fat Bai’s heart like a venomous snake, rekindling his will to live and extinguishing the last spark of his humanity.

What happened next was predictable.

Fat Bai killed his companions and survived the hardest days by eating their flesh.

After that, the woman in white followed him like a ghost. She called herself “Xiao Jiu’er.” She had no eyes but seemed to see straight through people’s hearts.

Under Xiao Jiu’er’s guidance, Boss Bai used his gold bars and dollars to bribe officials in Laos, repackaged his identity, and transformed from an international fugitive into a Chinese expatriate in Laos. He eventually made his way to Hebei, and, at Xiao Jiu’er’s suggestion, started running a “shadow inn.”

Fat Bai told us especially that Xiao Jiu’er was no ordinary woman. She could cook, and she could use “ghostly feasts” to make people gluttonous. After Bai Wei got her, he invested a lot in her—giving her prosthetic eyes, and crafting a new identity for her as a “special-grade chef” brought from Beijing. All of Bai Wei’s schemes and tricks were taught by this woman.

After hearing Fat Bai’s account, both Wang Hou and I were stunned, silent for a long time before we could react.

In my mind’s eye, a seductive, enchanting woman appeared, standing by Boss Bai’s plump form, dressed in a white dress, her face alluring and foxy, smirking coldly at me.

I couldn’t help but sigh, “Is this the legendary enchantress?”

By now, we understood: this woman called Xiao Jiu’er was the real culprit behind everything, the mastermind of all misfortune.

Wang Hou grabbed Fat Bai’s collar and demanded, “Where is Xiao Jiu’er? Take us to her!”

Fat Bai, having confessed all, immediately replied, “She never leaves her room, she’s right there! But you’d best not provoke her lightly. The two of you aren’t enough to satisfy her. You’d better call for backup…”

As he spoke, Fat Bai pointed toward the end of the restaurant. Following his finger, I saw a pair of iron doors.

On those doors were four large characters…