Zhao Changgeng brightened. “See? Even our scholar says professors are nice! Yao’s sweet—of course they’d take her abroad!”  

Zhao Changxing pressed, “Chang Geng, good things don’t just fall from the sky. Write back—ask for the professor’s name and school…”  

Zhao Changgeng waved him off. “Enough! Yao’s mom’s waiting. Would a big-shot professor just give out his details? Besides, she’s going abroad—no contact for two years. How’m I supposed to reach her?”  

As Zhao Changgeng and Zhao Changxing argued, Zhao Xiangwan pieced together clues from Zhao Chenyang’s earlier words.  

Zhao Xiangwan and Zhao Qingyao were classmates in elementary and junior high school. They often went to school and did homework together, so Zhao Xiangwan knew her well. Zhao Qingyao was straightforward, a bit spoiled, and liked fancy things, but she had a kind heart and would secretly share snacks with Zhao Xiangwan.  

After graduating from junior high, Zhao Xiangwan went to high school in the county town, but Zhao Qingyao didn’t continue her studies. She stayed at home for two years until she saw other village girls returning from work looking fashionable. Tempted, she followed them to Guangzhou.  

Zhao Qingyao was pretty and had a junior high school education, making her popular in the job market. Though from the countryside, she was the only daughter of Zhao Changgeng after three sons. Spoiled and unused to farm work, she couldn’t handle the tough factory life. She switched jobs—from electronics to clothing to food factories—but wasn’t satisfied. Now, working as a nanny for a university professor and even going abroad with him seemed like a great opportunity.  

But Zhao Qingyao had been deceived. Realizing this, Zhao Xiangwan stared intently at the envelope in Zhao Changgeng’s hand.  

Zhao Xiangwan had sharp eyes. Even as the envelope shook, she could clearly see the postmark: “Uncle Changgeng, can I see that envelope?”  

Since getting into university, Zhao Xiangwan’s status in the village had risen. Zhao Changgeng handed her the envelope, saying, “Don’t crumple it. I need to keep it for Yao’s mother and brothers to see.”  

It was an ordinary letter addressed to Zhao Changgeng, with a vague mailing address: “Mian’an City, Liao Province.” The handwriting was small and slightly childish, with fancy downward strokes—clearly Zhao Qingyao’s.  

The letter was from Zhao Qingyao, but she hadn’t written a clear return address, so her family couldn’t contact her. She’d been abroad for two years with no news and hadn’t shared the professor’s name or university. Something was wrong.  

The postmark’s ink was smudged, making the words hard to read. Zhao Xiangwan held the envelope up, squinting to examine it.  

Her serious expression made Zhao Changgeng nervous. Zhao Erfu’s third sister studied at the Public Security University—wasn’t that like being a police officer? Had she found something?  

Zhao Changxing also sensed trouble and stepped closer. “Xiangwan, what’s wrong?”  

Zhao Xiangwan pointed at the postmark. “Uncle Changxing, if this was sent from Mian’an City’s urban area, the postmark should say ‘Mian’an, Liao Province,’ with the date in the middle and the street or post office below. But… this doesn’t look like ‘Mian’an’?”  

Unfortunately, Zhao Chenyang only knew Zhao Qingyao had been trafficked to a northern village, not the exact location. The envelope was their only clue.  

“Really?” Zhao Changxing grew uneasy. He snatched the envelope, studying it under sunlight.  

Mian’an was a well-known industrial city in the north, but the postmark had five characters! The third and fourth seemed more complex than “Mian’an.”  

“The first two are ‘Liao Province,’ yes, that’s right.” Zhao Changxing confirmed. The last three characters were the key.  

Zhao Xiangwan racked her brain, trying to recall high school geography.  

Zhao Zhongwu had an idea. “Who has a map? Check if there’s a matching place name!”  

Hearing the letter might not be from Mian’an, Zhao Changgeng panicked. Though proud of his daughter going abroad, fear crept in. “Changxing, find someone who can read it! Will Yao be okay?”  

The villagers erupted in concern.  

“I have a local atlas—I’ll go get it!”  

“My wall map—I’ll tear it down!”  

“If it’s not from Mian’an, why did Yao say she was at Mian’an University? Is she lying?” 

“Yao’s spoiled but honest. Could she be forced?”  

Though villagers sometimes quarreled, most were kind-hearted. Zhao Qingyao had grown up before their eyes—pretty, loud, and full of laughter.  

The crowd at Zhao Erfu’s door grew. Zhao Bowu settled his parents, then invited everyone inside, lighting a charcoal basin and serving tea.  

Village chief Zhao Changxing and Women’s Federation director Qin Xianggui took the main seats. Zhao Changgeng clutched the letter, frustrated at being illiterate. He handed it to Zhao Xiangwan. “Third Sister, you study at the Public Security University—you must know things. Please check if Yao’s telling the truth.”  

Zhao Xiangwan took the letter, feeling the weight.  

Though she knew from Zhao Chenyang’s story that Yao had been trafficked, the exact location was a mystery. Without mind-reading, she had to rely on observation.  

The letter was a single page with red lines, brief in content:  

“Dad, Mom, I’m doing well in Mi City. Professor Li and Aunt Sun treat me well, and the baby is obedient. They pay me 60 yuan a month. I eat well, dress well, and don’t spend money. Professor Li is going abroad soon, and Aunt Sun says the baby needs me, so I’m going too. I won’t be able to contact you abroad, so I’m writing now. Don’t worry.”  

The writing was simple but exaggerated, as if hiding something. The strokes were uneven, some scratching the paper. The word “good” ended with a heavy stroke, like gritted teeth—suggesting low spirits and emotional turmoil.  

There was a shallow water stain at the end of the second paragraph, smudging the ink and making it look like tears.  

The most suspicious detail was several dark, slippery marks—each the size of a fingernail—on the upper right corner of the letter.  

Zhao Xiangwan held the letter to her nose and took a deep sniff.  

Zhao Changgeng watched her every move nervously, waiting for her conclusion.  

After a moment, Zhao Xiangwan looked up, her expression serious.  

Zhao Changgeng didn’t dare to ask but waited anxiously.  

Zhao Xiangwan spread the letter on the table and pointed to the uneven, greasy marks in the upper right corner, asking Zhao Changxing and Qin Xianggui to examine them closely: “Look, these are traces of dripping candle wax.”  

Zhao Changxing and Qin Xianggui scraped off a thin layer of white wax with their fingers and nodded. “Yes, it’s wax.”  

Zhao Xiangwan continued, “Mian’an City is a large city with reliable electricity. University campuses and residential areas have electric lights, and power outages are rare. There’s light day and night. Why would Sister Yao need to light a candle to write this letter?”  

Everyone echoed, “Right, why use candles?”  

Zhao Zhongwu chimed in, “Even in rural areas, every household has electric lights now. Candles are rarely used. The wax on the letter means Sister Yao wrote it in a very dark place—somewhere without electricity, forcing her to rely on candlelight. Why would someone in a big city or university need to write by candlelight? Writing to family isn’t something shameful.”  

Zhao Xiangwan gave Zhao Zhongwu an approving look.  

Encouraged, Zhao Zhongwu continued, “If it was so dark that she needed a candle, she must have been in a remote village without electricity.”  

Before he could finish—  

Bang!  

Zhao Changgeng fell backward, chair and all, collapsing to the ground.  

Those nearby rushed to help him up, but he was already wailing, “My Yao sister… My Yao sister!”  

Zhao Changxing couldn’t bear his grief and tried to comfort him, “Don’t panic yet. We’re not sure what happened. With all of us here, we’ll definitely find Sister Yao.”  

Zhao Changgeng clutched Zhao Changxing’s hand, his lips trembling. “Changxing… Changxing, you have to help me find her.”  

If she was in a remote mountain village, forced to write a fake letter, then Yao must have been abducted. For Zhao Changgeng now, going abroad, working as a nanny for a professor, or earning a high salary no longer mattered—he just wanted his daughter back safely.  

“Here! The atlas is here!”  

Someone came running with a national administrative atlas.  

Zhao Changxing’s hands shook as he flipped to the map of Liao Province, searching for place names near Mi’an City that matched the blurred postmark.  

“Look for three-character names first,” Zhao Xiangwan instructed calmly. The last character on the postmark clearly wasn’t “city,” so a three-word location was most likely.  

Zhao Changxing’s finger traced the map while Zhao Zhongwu helped.  

“Here! Fengtai City—could this be it?”  

Everyone crowded around, comparing the postmark to the name. The more they looked, the more certain they became. “Yes! That’s it. The strokes match. Fengtai City! It’s Fengtai City!”  

Next, they checked the Fengtai City map, scanning for the street or post office district name under the postmark.  

“Guning Town! It’s Guning Town!”  

Zhao Xiangwan’s heart sank.  

Fengtai City was over 200 kilometers north of Mi’an City, isolated with no trains and poor transportation. Guning Town was likely a remote village under its jurisdiction—cold, hard to reach, and difficult to search. How would they find anyone there?  

Zhao Changxing steadied himself and broke the truth to Zhao Changgeng: “Changgeng, since this letter was sent from Guning Town, Fengtai City, with its postmark, it means Sister Yao isn’t in Mi’an City. The letter claiming she was a nanny for a professor’s family going abroad was all a lie. You need to prepare yourself… I’m afraid Sister Yao was abducted!”  

Zhao Changgeng’s last hope shattered. Tears streamed down his face as he completely broke down.  

All eyes turned to Zhao Xiangwan.  

Zhao Xiangwan said, “Call the police.”