Chapter Thirty-Two: Weeping at the Bridal Farewell (Part 2)

Looking for a substitute among them? A substitute for what? The bride?
But at this moment, Su Man was more concerned about something else. “You said you heard it?”
The village chief was now downstream, quite a distance from them. From here, he was just a small dot in the distance. If Huang Mei had been over there just now, it would have been impossible for her to run here so quickly.
“I... I... huh?” Huang Mei hadn’t expected Su Man to focus on such a different point. Her mind went blank and her eyes darted away.
But just as she hesitated, Su Man turned and walked away, clearly not intending to learn anything from her.
“Wait! Wait, I wasn’t lying!” Huang Mei glanced around anxiously and hurried after her.
But Su Man didn’t hear her shout, because the mission screen had appeared.
[Mission One: Before six in the evening, uncover the truth behind the bride’s leap into the river
Mission Level: One star (Easy)
If the mission is not completed, something very unpleasant will befall the player.]
This time, a difficulty level was added. Su Man wasn’t very nervous, though. From her previous experience, the first mission was always easy, the answer practically laid out in plain sight—a freebie, so to speak.
She was just considering how to begin her investigation when someone bumped into her from behind.
“Ah!” Huang Mei clutched her forehead and cried out, catching Su Man’s gaze and apologizing in a panic. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“Is there something else?” There was still this trouble to deal with.
“I... I...” Under Su Man’s oppressive stare, Huang Mei pouted, her eyes reddening, on the verge of tears. But she held back, clenching her fists and trying to be brave, mumbling, “I don’t mean any harm. I just want to follow you.”
“No following!” A sudden show of kindness never comes without a motive. With so many people here, why must she follow her?
Su Man was not so righteous as to feel pity for every weakling she met.
Even after that, Huang Mei still trailed her, step by step. Su Man finally lost her patience and issued a final warning, “If you keep following me, I’ll assume you’re up to no good. And I don’t go easy on people with ulterior motives.”
Huang Mei realized Su Man wasn’t joking. The tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over. She stopped, looking aggrieved and pouting. “But you seem the kindest here. I thought we could be friends.”

Her tears left Su Man unmoved. Who can’t cry?
And kind?
Sorry, she wasn’t—at least, not indiscriminately.
Seeing there was no end to this entanglement, Su Man decided not to waste any more time. She tossed out a cold refusal. “Only those who are useful to me can travel with me.”
The words hit Huang Mei so hard she forgot to cry, staring at Su Man in disbelief, surprised by her bluntness.
Just as Su Man thought Huang Mei would give up, she suddenly called out, hurried to her side, and asked in a small, hopeful voice, “If I had money, would that be useful to you?”
Su Man looked at Huang Mei’s face, so full of sincerity, and found it utterly absurd.
Was she serious? Was there really someone so eager to be used?
However, “I’m not looking for someone with money. I need a scapegoat.”
The stranger her behavior, the less Su Man wanted to get involved.
Perhaps the mention of being a scapegoat frightened Huang Mei. She finally stopped following, standing there with a silhouette full of dejection.
Su Man paid her no mind. Whether Huang Mei was sincere or not didn’t matter; she wasn’t going to give her a chance. She didn’t want to waste energy on this. To put it simply, Huang Mei’s display of ability was too weak for Su Man to see any value in her.
When Su Man reached the village chief, a crowd had already gathered. Among them were some members of their tour group, easily recognizable in their matching green vests.
But perhaps after what happened with their guide Chang Gui and that overweight reporter, the excitement had faded. Worry and gloom were now etched into their faces.
Su Man withdrew her gaze and squeezed into the crowd, watching as they tried to retrieve the bride.
It had been about five minutes since they discovered her, yet the bride still floated face-down near the shore, soaking in the water. Oddly, she seemed as heavy as if weighed down by a thousand pounds. Three men supported her from below, while two men on the bank tugged at a rope, yet they couldn’t pull her ashore.
“Something’s not right. Could something unclean from the water be holding her down?” muttered a middle-aged man from the tour group nearby. Su Man happened to overhear.
Perhaps sensing her gaze, the man started, about to apologize for speaking out of turn. But when he realized it was Su Man, he relaxed, gave her an embarrassed smile, and turned back to the scene.
Su Man glanced at the local villagers. Their expressions were perfectly normal—so normal they seemed numb, as if such things were commonplace.

The village chief’s face was pale, yet even he looked numb and helpless.
Clearly, they all knew something.
If Su Man wanted to learn about the bride, questioning the locals was the safest route.
But after seeing what happened to the overweight reporter, she doubted anyone here would tell her anything.
“All right, there’s nothing more to see. It’s just an accident! The police will handle it. Come, let me take you to your lodgings—you all paid good money, and I won’t let it go to waste.”
Whether it was a cue from the village chief or his own plan, guide Chang Gui began ushering people away.
Su Man looked at him, thinking he might be a good place to start.
Chang Gui’s earlier show of authority still intimidated the tourists. Now, on the villagers’ turf, none dared protest. When he called them to gather, they regretfully left the scene, unable to witness what happened next to the bride.
They were only a small part of the group; a few others had stayed on the bridge and hadn’t come to gawk. After gathering everyone, Chang Gui led them over to round up the rest.
Su Man followed at the end of the group, her gaze sweeping over the village.
Though called a village, its architecture resembled the water towns of the lower Yangtze—two-story houses, winding alleys, and meandering lanes.
Hmm?
Something yellow caught her eye.
It was a woman, not far away, standing on tiptoe at the entrance of an alley, peering in their direction.
What drew Su Man’s attention wasn’t the act, but the woman’s appearance—like a vagrant, her yellow dress faded to gray, barefoot, her hair a bird’s nest atop her head. Her eyes, however, were clear—if not particularly bright. Noticing Su Man watching, she grinned, flashing a set of large, white teeth.