Chapter Twenty-Six: Engineering: The Fool Has Gone Mad Again

This was a simply furnished, unfinished apartment. Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che stared in astonishment at the woman before them, hardly able to believe that their rescuer, the woman in black, was none other than Wanqing.

When they first met her in Beijing, she was just a frail young girl. Who could have imagined she was so formidable, fighting with such skill and decisiveness?

Zhang Qinglin no longer felt tired or sleepy. He stood before Wanqing, watching as she took alcohol and cotton swabs from the medical kit, rolled up her left sleeve to reveal a wound where the blood had already clotted, then gently cleaned it with alcohol.

Cheng Che gave Wanqing a thorough once-over as she sat on the chair, resting his chin in his hand, his face full of surprise and disbelief.

Neither spoke, simply studying her in silence.

When Wanqing finished tending her wound, she set down the gauze, stood up calmly, let her sleeve fall back into place, packed away the medical kit, and then glanced at Old Seven lying on the kang, giving the others a look and nodding toward the door. The three of them stepped outside.

Wanqing explained that she had indeed come to Wuzhou for official business. After completing her tasks, she grew concerned for Zhang Qinglin and his companions and so went to Siyue County.

By chance, she saw them enter Chenghai Restaurant. She followed but, after searching inside, found no sign of them. When she exited, she saw them being forced into a van which sped away. The men looked anything but friendly, so she tailed them all the way to Henan Province. Once she confirmed where they were being held, she began planning their rescue.

Standing under the parasol tree to the right in the courtyard, Wanqing recounted the whole series of events.

Zhang Qinglin regarded her with wary skepticism. He couldn’t fully trust Wanqing, nor did he believe she’d risk so much for them—they had only met a handful of times.

Old Seven’s injuries were not serious, and he would be fine after a couple of days’ rest.

Dazhuang, however, had been silent and withdrawn since leaving the illegal mine. Gone was the goofy, open smile he always wore; in its place was a mask of somberness, behind which lay many secrets unknown to anyone.

After dinner, Zhang Qinglin and Cheng Che discussed their next move. Of course, finding Uncle Jiang and Jiang Xinyue was their priority, and they would not return to Beijing until they were found.

That afternoon, Zhang Qinglin had borrowed Wanqing’s phone to call the teahouse in Beijing. Learning that Uncle Jiang had not returned, he left a message with Sister Zhou before hanging up.

As they mulled over whether to return to Siyue County first, Wanqing entered with a serious expression, cleared her throat, and informed them that they couldn’t leave just yet.

She explained their current predicament: first, the car’s tires had been slashed; second, they didn’t have enough gasoline; third, Siyue County was some distance away...

“Can’t we just take a bus or a train?” Cheng Che interrupted, turning toward Wanqing.

“I’m not finished. Fourth, we have no ID cards or enough money.”

“ID and money, well...” Cheng Che dug into his pocket and pulled out his own ID card and three hundred yuan, laying them on the table.

“Wanqing meant Dazhuang and Old Seven,” Zhang Qinglin explained with a sigh.

Suddenly, Old Seven burst in, pointing toward the doorway. “Dazhuang... Dazhuang ran off!”

Changxi was an unremarkable little village. At night, there were no streetlights; once darkness fell, every household shut its doors. Only a single lamppost with a bare bulb outside the village committee office cast a faint glow over a short distance.

Now, a flashlight beam wavered through the night. Zhang Qinglin was in hot pursuit, and ahead, illuminated by the trembling light, was Dazhuang’s frantic, flailing silhouette.

“Dazhuang, stop right there! What are you doing, running around in the middle of the night?”

“Dazhuang, Dazhuang, what are you trying to do?”

Dazhuang shouted over his shoulder, “Grandma, looking for Grandma...”

Zhang Qinglin chased after him, calling, “I’ll take you home, take you to see your grandma!”

No sooner had he spoken than Dazhuang’s behavior grew even stranger; not only did he not stop, but he shook all over with fear and agitation. He glanced back at Zhang Qinglin, then ran on wildly.

Zhang Qinglin chased him all the way to a bend at the edge of the village, where he tripped over a stone. The flashlight beam jerked, and suddenly, he glimpsed two dark figures darting past.

He couldn’t tell if they were Cheng Che and the others. He hurried after them, but when he rounded the corner, he found only a dead end. He swept his light around, but Dazhuang was nowhere to be seen. A chill ran through him.

At that moment, a flashlight shone from behind. Zhang Qinglin turned to see Cheng Che and Wanqing. The three of them searched the village another time, but still found no sign of Dazhuang.

Back inside, Old Seven rose from his chair. Seeing their faces, he knew immediately they had lost Dazhuang.

“Where on earth could he have gone?” Cheng Che asked, pouring himself a glass of water.

Zhang Qinglin set the flashlight on the table, his brow furrowed with worry. He kept thinking about the two shadows he’d seen—was it just his imagination, or were they really people? Could Dazhuang have been captured again? The thought flashed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it; after the trouble at the illegal mine, surely no one there would bother with them now.

He shook his head and happened to notice Wanqing standing silently at the door, gripping her flashlight tightly, her eyes staring ahead as if lost in thought, unaware that Zhang Qinglin was watching her.

Sensing his gaze, Wanqing cleared her throat and suggested everyone get some rest and make plans in the morning.

That night, Zhang Qinglin slept fitfully. In his dreams, he saw again that burial chamber: a stone coffin, a child, a golden key, and half of a silk manuscript.

At dawn, as the first light crept over the horizon, Zhang Qinglin awoke. Getting off the kang, he opened the door and saw Wanqing hurrying out of the courtyard. Curious, he trailed after her.

He found her speaking with a local man some distance away. He couldn’t hear what was said, but saw Wanqing take out two bundles of cash and hand them over. The man glanced around, pocketed the money, nodded, and left.

Shortly after nine, Wanqing pulled her SUV up to the gate and honked twice.

Zhang Qinglin, Cheng Che, and Old Seven grabbed their bags and got in. They set off for Siyue County.

Wanqing said she’d learned that Jiang Xinyue had been spotted in the county seat. They stopped at a repair shop to replace the spare tire.

On the road, Wanqing and Cheng Che took turns driving, so Zhang Qinglin sat in the back, making small talk with Old Seven. Suddenly, Wanqing’s voice came from the driver’s seat: “Have you ever heard of Ming Qianqi?”

“Ming what...what’s that?” Cheng Che glanced at her curiously.