SES Chapter 187 Part 1

Chapter 187

That night, Yan Hongsand was too worried to sleep.

Good heavens—why had so many things happened all at once lately?

There was still no definite word on Mu Dai. Luo Ren was injured. The Murder Slip was in Leopard’s hands. And Cao Jiefang was missing—yes, missing. Right before bed, Wan San had spread his hands and confessed to her and Cao Yanhua that Cao Jiefang was gone, no idea where he’d run off to.

Under normal circumstances, that would have caused a huge uproar at the bar. But at a moment this dire, the bad news was overshadowed by even worse news and barely registered. Cao Yanhua froze for two seconds, then said, “If he’s gone, he’s gone. If losing our Jiefang can bring Little Shifu back, that’d be worth it.”

Yan Hongsand asked Cao Yanhua, “Where did you just go?”

Where had he gone? To look for a way out. Cats have their paths, rats have theirs. Cao Yanhua didn’t really have any connections, but he couldn’t stand just sitting around. In desperation, he turned to “同行”—people in the same line of work.

Those habitual pickpockets roaming around Lijiang surely had their own organizations, big or small. They wandered the streets all day, eyes sharper than radar spotlights. If he could get connected through them, wouldn’t their information network be just as effective as Wan Fenghuo’s?

So Cao Yanhua went out onto the streets to stake things out. His eye was keen, and before long, he spotted one or two kindred spirits in the crowd. He started with a little “catch-and-release”: You pickpocket people? Great. I’ll pickpocket you. Afterward, he returned the goods with both hands as a greeting gift, then made his request—please keep an eye out. Recently, had they seen any suspicious Southeast Asians nearby? Especially a one-eyed woman.

Yan Hongsand was annoyed. “Cao Fatty, didn’t you swear you’d cut ties with that life? You even named the chicken ‘Jiefang’ to remind yourself. So why are you mixed up with them again?”

Cao Yanhua snapped back. “Then what do you want me to do? I’ve only got two eyes and two legs—I can’t gather intel alone. At a time like this, who cares what people do for a living? Many hands make light work, get it?”

…

Yan Hongsand sighed and turned over.

Something bad was coming, she thought. Something big.

But strangely enough, it didn’t. The next day was peaceful. The third day too. Occasionally, someone would call Wan San using the number on the lost-chicken notice. Wan San had lost his initial enthusiasm and answered lazily, “Send a photo first. I’ll take a look and then we’ll talk.”

The caller would hang up with a click, and the phone wouldn’t ring again.

The leads Cao Yanhua had set up also seemed useless. Yan Hongsand even suspected they were backfiring. In just the past day or two, she’d heard about two Thai tourists in the old town having their wallets lifted. Was this how those people interpreted “keep an eye out for suspicious Southeast Asians”?

On the evening of the fourth day, Aoki brought Luo Ren back.

Yan Hongsand and the others went to see him at staggered times. He could already get out of bed and walk around, though per the doctor’s orders, he was to “remain mostly bedridden.” His face was a little pale, and he looked tired, clearly not in the mood to talk. An open laptop sat beside him—apparently, he was waiting for news from Wan Fenghuo. He held his phone the whole time, occasionally glancing down to check it.

This was the most agonizing moment of all. There was nothing they could do but wait.

As Yan Hongsand was leaving, she suddenly noticed the necklace around Luo Ren’s neck—the pearl whistle necklace that belonged to Mu Dai.

If Mu Dai were dead, Luo Ren would probably wear that necklace for the rest of his life.

The thought shocked Yan Hongsand herself. How could she think something so ominous?

She stamped her foot, spat several times at the doorway for luck, then raised her hand and slapped herself twice—smack, smack.

Afterward, she exhaled deeply and looked up—then froze.

Aoki was leaning against the railing across from the door, staring at her in confusion.

Yan Hongsand didn’t know whether to explain or not. In the end, she hardened her heart, lowered her head, and hurried away.

Aoki watched her go all the way downstairs.

These strange friends of Luo’s—he suspected he would never really understand them.

He let out a breath, went back inside, and asked Luo Ren, “Luo, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Aoki didn’t quite believe it. Later that night, he specifically checked the hallway surveillance. The leopard had stayed inside for quite a while between entering and leaving. She must have said a lot to Luo Ren.

“She didn’t affect you too much, did she?”

Luo Ren smiled faintly and lowered his head to type on his phone.

Did she affect him?

If this had been the past, every word Leopard said would have been enough to kill him.

But all of that could only kill his past.

He still had a future. And in that future, there was a familiar figure—blurred, but still vivid—waiting for him.

So no matter how rotten his past was, no matter how riddled with wounds this body might be, he would stand up again.

Leopard could scribble all she wanted over his past, but the future—he would not let her touch it.

Luo Ren let out a long breath and sent the message he’d typed.

It was to the fortune-teller: Not here yet?

Behind a small noodle shop, Cao Yanhua sat gloomily on a stack of bricks, radiating an aura that said boss.

In front of him stood a young man in his early twenties, a patch of white-dyed hair on his head, slouchy and cocky, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He spread his hands. “Nothing I can do. Didn’t find anything. Southeast Asia’s got ‘Asia’ in the name too—we’re all from the same continent. It’s not as easy to tell as foreigners.”

Called a “small noodle shop,” this place was really a meeting point, a fence for stolen goods, an exchange hub.

“Boss Cao, we’re all in the same line of work—we really tried. You said to keep things low-key, and once you go undercover, efficiency drops… Oh, Pi San’s back.”

Another one came to report. Pi San, with a DSLR hanging around his neck, looked like a photographer—except he didn’t even know where the power button was. It was just a disguise. He unzipped his huge camera bag, turned it upside down, and a mess of random items clattered out.