The mountains nearby were connected to the one behind Roan’s house. As a child chasing prey, Roan had been here several times. He could still remember the general path.

  Arthur had a flashlight. They climbed halfway up the steep, winding mountain road. Standing on the edge of a cliff, they saw a large expanse of firelight on the distant river.

  “One, two, three... a total of 26 boats... with at least over a hundred workers. This scale is huge, and this is just one spot...”

  While counting the boats, Arthur unconsciously raised his flashlight. It gave Elena a huge fright.

  “The flashlight...”

  Roan grabbed the flashlight from him: “Buddy, sorry, but you’ll get us killed doing that.”

  “Hehe, it's fine.”

  Arthur first used a pen and paper to record the scale and quantity of the smuggling. Then, like a magic trick, he pulled a small camera out of his file bag.

  Click, click. He took several photos in a row.

  In 1978, a camera that could take night photos was very expensive. Especially in a famine-stricken country like theirs, where even radios weren't common yet.

  Elena realized Arthur’s investigation task was not simple. It wasn't just “wanting to take a look” like he said.

  Tonight’s information would likely be sent to the provincial level, or maybe even the central government.

  Arthur was still dissatisfied with the view from this position: “I can only see the overall situation. Can't see what they are carrying on their shoulders.”

  Roan had three years of experience dealing with the black market. People like Mateo would do anything. Not to mention this was cross-border smuggling. Killing someone and escaping to the other side was easy for them. “Getting closer is too dangerous. They won’t value your life!”

  But Elena supported Arthur.

  “Since you want to go, then let’s go. We’ll pretend to be lost villagers. But the car definitely can’t be driven. Once there, no flashlights. We only rely on this.” Elena pointed to the more-than-half moon above.

  “Let’s go!”

  Arthur was unusually determined.

  Roan could only smile bitterly and follow these two reckless people.

  The three walked through small paths, skillfully bypassing the checkpoint from earlier. It took only about ten minutes to reach the riverbank. They turned off the flashlight and hid in the grass to observe.

  Arthur muttered softly, making notes under the moonlight.

  “These big bags seem to be grain...”

  “Food prices on the other side are skyrocketing. Makes sense.”

  “Then what are these crates? It couldn't be weapons, right?”

  Roan couldn't help but remind Arthur: “I do smell the scent of gunpowder.”

  “You can smell it?” Arthur and Elena whispered in shock at the same time.

  “Yeah, Sofia taught me how to distinguish various scents.”

  “Sofia is his sister. Her eyes have problems,” Elena added.

  Arthur immediately moved his pen quickly, writing another paragraph on the paper in the dark.

  A man suddenly popped out from behind the grass to pee and discovered the three people.

  “Come quickly! Someone is peeking!”

  No time to wait. Roan pulled the two and ran fast. He chose the nearest small path. This was near where he saved Leo. He remembered the way.

  But several people with flashlights were chasing closely behind.

  They seemed to be holding clubs or axes.

  “Elena, faster! A bit faster!”

  Though the two men urged from the front, Elena’s endurance and explosiveness couldn't match a man’s. She was about to be caught.

  Roan got fierce. He pointed at the path ahead and shouted to Arthur: “Take her and go! I’ll stop them!”

  “No way!” Elena shouted at Roan, but she was immediately pulled forward by Arthur.

  After running a dozen steps, Arthur started shouting. “Help! Murder! They’re going to kill someone!”

  They weren't far from the sentries. As long as the sentries could hear, Roan at least wouldn't lose his life.

  Behind them, Roan was confronting those people in the local dialect.

  Elena lived here for three years in her past life and could roughly understand: “We wanted to steal fish. Who knew what you guys were doing?”

  “River fish need to be stolen?”

  “Valuable ones do. Don’t you know?”

  “Then why were you hiding? Why run?”

  “Scared of being beaten by you. Can't we run?”

  “Stop talking to him. They must be here to monitor us.”

  “Kill him.”

  “Right, just kill him.”

  Hearing the sounds of arguing and shoving, it looked like a fight was about to start. Arthur gave everything on him to Elena and whispered: “This data is more important than my life. Don't look back. Run through the cornfield and keep going. Drive to Beldora and find people to save us.”

  “You guys can't die!” Elena’s voice was hoarse with anxiety.

  “Never mind us! I can’t let Roan face the danger alone.” After saying that, Arthur immediately ran back.

  Elena could only keep shouting: “Help! Rape! Rape...”

  She shouted while running. After another five or six minutes, she saw flashlight beams scanning ahead. She quickly dived into the cornfield.

  When five or six sentries ran past on the nearby path, Elena didn't leave. She wanted to wait and see if she could wait for those two.

  The distant fighting sounds and shouting kept her heart hanging.

  Finally, after the sentries arrived, the noise died down.

  Because of the distance, Elena could no longer hear their voices.

  After another half hour, she saw Arthur supporting Roan, limping back. The sentries were following behind them.

  One sentry complained: “Didn't we tell you not to enter? You just had to come in.”

  Another said: “If you couldn't name the Chief of Staff’s identity, I wouldn't have believed you.”

  “Anyway, for tonight’s matter, we’ve done right by you. After you leave, better pretend you know nothing. Understand?”

  “Understood. No problem,” Arthur replied.

  “Also, if you really are the Bureau Chief, please don't blame us. We are just following orders. We really can't control the things on the river. We just don't want any deaths.”

  “Got it. Thank you, little brothers.” Arthur continued with a very good attitude.

  After these people left, Elena bypassed the checkpoint again based on memory. It took about half an hour to find their car parked at the foot of the mountain.

  Roan and Arthur were already waiting by the car.

  Seeing it was Elena, Arthur whispered: “Hurry! He’s bleeding a lot.”

  “Ah?” Elena turned on the flashlight. Sure enough, there was a lot of blood on the ground. Roan’s forehead was likely cut. He had tied his head with his removed shirt. His vest was also stained with fresh blood.

  She returned the documents to Arthur and floored the gas toward Beldora again.

  Fortunately, at the small hospital in Beldora, the doctors were back from the county. Someone was on night shift.

  While the doctor was bandaging, Elena saw the wound. It was about two fingers wide.

  Listening to Roan’s story, she realized those people knew Roan was a local and didn't want to kill him.

  They hit Roan with the back of the blade.

  After the sentries arrived, Roan could name a Chief of Staff’s info, and Arthur could state details about the Civilian Government. So the sentries let them go.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  If it were anyone else, they might have been killed and their bodies thrown into the river.

  Thinking of this, Elena still felt a wave of lingering fear.

  Arthur disappeared for a while, then came back. He had borrowed the hospital phone to contact the county leaders.

  “The county has explained the situation to the military. There won’t be any more accidents. The Brigade Commander here is rushing over. Someone will pick me up tomorrow morning. Roan, you just stay in the hospital. The government will cover all costs. Elena, you drive the tractor back. I’ll wait here and take care of Roan for the night.”

  “You’re a girl driving the tractor back alone. Is it okay? If not, wait until the Brigade Commander arrives.”

  In Elena’s past life memories, this Brigade Commander was not a good person. He would be disciplined soon for serious violations.

  Was it because of involvement in smuggling?

  "No! You can't stay here." Peilin said while packing things. "Those border smugglers definitely have a protective umbrella. Aren't you afraid someone will destroy your camera? Or your safety. Ronan, get up, I’m taking you to the county hospital."

  Peilin spoke so directly that Arthur’s eyes flickered; he immediately understood the danger.

  If the Brigade Commander brought people to smash the camera, he really wouldn't have any way to stop it.

  The three of them drove toward the county seat, but they couldn't go further after less than ten kilometers. Sentries were blocking the road ahead.

  Peilin gritted her teeth and immediately turned the car around, heading back through the county seat—the only way to reach Solana. Passing through the county seat, Peilin specifically turned off the headlights. The distant noise covered the sound of the car engine.

  From a dark corner, the three of them saw that the hospital had actually been surrounded by dozens of soldiers with live ammunition.

  ……

  The first ray of morning sunlight shone diagonally from the windowsill planted with lilies, right onto the intricately patterned bedsheets. On top lay the naked torso of a young man, half-covered by a thin silk quilt.

  Even with sleepy eyes, his stunning looks couldn't be hidden.

  Clean skin, pear-shaped face, red lips but not overly bright. Thick eyebrows, short and coarse hair, body full of muscles. These were his youthful assets.

  “Mmm, baby, why are you up so early...”

  The man turned to his side and kept his eyes closed.

  Vivienne, sitting at the vanity applying makeup, replied somewhat coldly: “They started marching and shouting slogans so early. How can I sleep?”

  “Uh... baby, are you unhappy?” The man on the bed rolled up and quickly went to find those cosmetics with English labels. “Want me to help you with your makeup?”

  “Put on your clothes and go home.”

  “Ah? It’s only been three days...”

  The man didn’t dare say the rest. He had only been with Vivienne for three days. He hadn't even earned three months' worth of grain money, let alone money to support his parents and four younger siblings.

  Moreover, as a male escort, being rejected by Vivienne in three days was too embarrassing.

  He bit his lip and stopped talking.

  He just looked at this woman, older than his mother. Her fierce face looked as if he owed her a lot of money.

  “I didn't say your pay wasn't settled, right?” Vivienne threw down her makeup pen. “I told you to dress and go home. Go call your father over. I saw his photo in your wallet. He looks quite good. I need to see him myself.”

  “...” The man was stunned. His father could be his competitor? A huge sense of humiliation made him stutter out his grievance:

  “But, honey, I don't have that hobby of a father and son sleeping in the same bed. I guess my father... he wouldn't like it either...”

  “Hmph, I don’t have that hobby either.” Vivienne suddenly stood up and strode toward the door, coldly dropping a sentence.

  “If you don't want to call your father, go downstairs and settle the bill with the butler.”

  Probably thinking it was a good idea for his father to take over the "job" of earning money from her, the man dressed and rushed out of Vivienne’s three-story hillside mansion.

  In less than an hour, he brought his father. A man who walked with his neck unconsciously shrunk, not daring to look people in the eye, with a face always maintaining an expression of wanting to smile but not daring to.

  His face was wider and more angular than his son’s, so it was handsomer. But perhaps because he had long been worn down by life’s hardships, anyone taking a casual look would conclude he was a lecherous-looking rough man, no different from a tricycle driver on the street.

  The only difference was perhaps the old blue shirt he wore, faded to white, and the polished leather shoes on his feet. It might make people mistake him for someone with a proper job.

  Only, his shoes were very ill-fitting, making hollow thumping sounds as he walked.

  Vivienne thought, these must be old leather shoes thrown away by his son.

  His son’s rental house was far away. If not, Vivienne guessed he would have changed into one of his son’s fine suits. It would make this man look much handsomer.

  Vivienne mocked herself in her heart. What taste! The face shape and height are right, but the vibe is all wrong!

  But she remembered someone saying: some people just like this type. The more honest and simple they look, the more they please people.

  “Give this old man a chance.” Vivienne finally convinced herself.

  “Come in. Strip. Take all your clothes off.” Vivienne said expressionlessly to the man standing in the doorway, who didn't dare walk in as if afraid of dirtying her room.

  “This... strip here?” The man took two steps forward, looking left and right. When his gaze fell on his son’s face, his own face turned completely red.

  His son consciously turned around to close the door, then kept facing that door, no longer looking into the room.

  “Otherwise? If you don't strip, how will I know what you look like?”

  The man breathed heavily. He really stripped naked. His expression was that of someone wanting to hit a wall and kill himself.

  Vivienne’s eyebrows twitched. A look of possessiveness appeared on her face, but she immediately suppressed it.

  “Good assets. For the next few days, don't go back. Stay on the first floor. Your son will teach you every day how to become a bit higher class. We’re hosting a big guest this weekend.”

  “Put on your clothes and go downstairs.”

  “Also, this money is yours. There will be another sum after the job is done, the same amount.” Vivienne pulled three large bundles of new cash from the drawer and threw them on the table.

  The young man couldn't help but look back, cursing in his heart. Luckily it was his dad; one move and he earned six months' worth of his money.

  He was afraid his father would choose wrong, so he rushed to answer: “Honey, can you give us US dollars?”

  “No problem!”

  Vivienne pulled twelve green 100-dollar bills from the drawer, threw the three bundles of new cash back into the drawer, and slammed it shut.

  Then she turned to the windowsill, fussing with the plants and flowers, treating the father and son like air.