SES Chapter 182 Part 1

Chapter 182

Dawn was just about to break.

In a shadowy corner at the foot of the stairs on the first floor of the Ju San Sui Yuan bar, a flashlight was glowing discreetly. That was Cao Jiefang’s “luxury residence.”

Wan Shisan, Yan Hongsha, and Cao Yanhua were squatting in a circle. In the middle sat Cao Jiefang, who had been forcibly shaken awake half an hour earlier. Two tags hung from its neck, its eyes were dull, its head bobbing now and then, as if it might fall asleep any second.

Cao Yanhua spoke earnestly, like a worried parent. “Jiefang, did you listen to what I just said? This is the moment to test your acting skills.”

Wan Shisan tapped the tag on Cao Jiefang’s neck. “Jiefang, you’ve got to live up to this tag. ‘A Good Chicken’—what’s the standard for a good chicken? It’s knowing how to cooperate. Got it?”

Yan Hongsha was half amused, half exasperated. “It doesn’t understand. It’s just a chicken. It hasn’t gained enlightenment or anything. Can you come up with a more reliable plan?”

…

Rong Ren felt that Wan Shisan’s idea might actually be right.

He and Aoki tried to survey the ancient city’s layout using online maps and countless images, but with no meaningful results. Their resources in China were limited; they couldn’t zoom in on every patch of ground.

If Mu Dai had sent the message out secretly, then they absolutely couldn’t make a big show of it. The leopard had eyes everywhere. They had to investigate quietly, casually, without drawing attention.

At first, Rong Ren wanted to enlist Wan Fenghuo’s help, but Aoki objected. He reasoned that Wan Fenghuo’s information business sold to everyone—there was no guarantee Leopard hadn’t gotten help from that side in finding them. Asking about harmless things was one thing, but once it came to taking action, it was safer to do it themselves.

So Wan Shisan proposed a plan that sounded ridiculous, but might actually work.

…

As the sun rose higher and the streets grew crowded, shops throughout the ancient city began opening. At that moment, a furious shout suddenly rang out at the entrance of Ju San Sui Yuan.

“I treat you so well all the time! So what if I kicked you twice?!”

Along with drawn-out cries of “ha… do… lo…,” tourists suddenly saw a mountain chicken burst out of the bar like an arrow shot from a bow.

Chasing after it was a flustered Cao Yanhua, shouting, “Help! Somebody help! Stop it—”

Most people scattered out of the way. A few tried to block it, but were intimidated by Cao Jiefang’s headlong charge and flapping wings. In a matter of seconds, Cao Jiefang took off, landing on one wall, then darting into another courtyard—and just like that, it vanished.

Cao Yanhua stomped his feet on the spot and yelled at Wan Shisan, who had chased after him. “Where’s the chicken?! It’s gone!”

Wan Shisan craned his neck and shouted back, “It’s just a chicken! What’s the big deal? I’ll get it back for you, won’t I?!”

The two glared at each other as they went back into the bar. The onlookers still hadn’t dispersed. Through the glass windows, they could see Wan Shisan standing by the window, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.

A few minutes later, the two came back out. Wan Shisan’s injury still wasn’t healed, one arm in a sling, while Cao Yanhua held up a “Lost Chicken” poster.

With just a few strokes, the drawing was lifelike—clearly the very chicken from moments ago.

Below it was a single line: A reward of 100 yuan upon return.

The two shoved and cursed at each other as they went off searching for the chicken.

At the same time, Pingting was painting in the small courtyard.

Her easel was set up facing a wall. Beside her was a watercolor palette, but on the canvas was only a dull gray wall—bare, cracked, with patches of peeling plaster.

Uncle Zheng came out and said to her, “Pingting, isn’t it hot painting outside? Why don’t you go inside?”

Pingting bit her lip and answered irrelevantly, “Brother Xiaodao still hasn’t come to see me.”

Uncle Zheng smiled. “He may not have come in person, but he did call. Didn’t Mr. Aoki explain it to us? Luo Xiaodao got himself into trouble outside and was afraid of dragging us into it, so he told us to stay hidden.”

Pingting raised her head and looked over the wall toward the higher building next door. That was Rong Ren’s room. Every night the light was on; she could see him coming and going, busy with who knew what.

As she was thinking, a head suddenly popped up over the wall.

Pingting let out a startled cry, slapping one hand onto the easel and smearing it with paint. The next instant, the figure moved with surprising agility, flipping down from the wall and tossing a chicken onto the ground.

A thief? Stealing a chicken? Climbing walls in broad daylight?

Looking closer, it was a middle-aged man, slightly heavyset, his face dark. The chicken’s beak was taped shut with clear tape, its legs bound together with thin string, its expression furious.

Fortunately, the man spoke first.

“Are you relatives of Rong Ren?”

Uncle Zheng quickly nodded. Zheng Mingshan pointed at Cao Jiefang on the ground. “Rong Ren asked me to deliver it.”

So there was no ill intent. Uncle Zheng relaxed and looked from the chicken to Zheng Mingshan. “Deliver it… to eat?”

Luo Xiaodao really was thoughtful. Even though he couldn’t come these past few days, he still remembered them—sending over a chicken, and a wild one at that. Quite a treat.

At the word “eat,” Cao Jiefang froze in terror, its whole body stiffening.

Zheng Mingshan frowned slightly.

Rong Ren had only asked him to cooperate by catching the chicken Cao Yanhua was chasing and bringing it here. As for whether it was to be eaten or not, he really hadn’t said.

Zheng Mingshan answered vaguely, hedging his bets. “Why not ask him? Or… do whatever you like.”

That afternoon, after nearly circling the entire ancient city, Wan Shisan and Cao Yanhua finally returned. The drawing was gone—Wan Shisan said that to keep up the act, he’d made over a dozen copies and posted them all along the way.

The results were significant. They’d found three residences with bamboo nearby. He clearly remembered the alley names and directions, and as he spoke, Wan Shisan sketched a simple map, marking landmarks and orientations. It was easy to read at a glance.

Three places. The next step required a trustworthy new face to investigate them.

Rong Ren called Zheng Mingshan. Fifteen minutes later, Zheng Mingshan, wearing a tourist cap pulled low, entered the bar. He didn’t speak to anyone, just went straight to a corner and sat down. Yan Hongsha brought over a menu to take his order. Zheng Mingshan opened it, quietly removed the sheet of paper inside, glanced at it, muttered that everything was too expensive, and got up to leave.