Chapter Forty-One: The Mysterious Gun in Yueyue's Hands

Two years ago, after a heavy rain caused a landslide in a valley twenty kilometers from Pit No. 1, a strange terracotta warrior was unearthed. This particular warrior, a charioteer, concealed within its body a square box. And inside the box was a 54-type pistol—a pistol with no factory serial number.

The most mysterious part was that this pistol vanished without a trace right before the eyes of many people. Even the most skilled thief would have left some clue, but this weapon simply disappeared as if by magic. Even the box that held it was gone without a shadow.

Now, unbelievably, it had resurfaced in Guangzhou, and right after we’d been hunted. The shock of this revelation left me speechless.

Even Wang Tingting couldn’t help but draw a deep breath. I tugged Ren along, heading outside. “Come on, let’s find somewhere to talk.”

Ren glanced at the operating room. “But Ma Junfeng—”

“Don’t worry. Unless the sun rises in the west, he’s not going to die. Leave him be,” I cut him off. To be honest, the news Ren had just shared drew me in irresistibly.

Old Liu and Ren Tianxing had personally come to Guangzhou to invite me to join forces for the first time all because of this mysterious gun. Later, the gun vanished again under mysterious circumstances. When I went to Xi’an to see the scene, even the petrified box had disappeared. Several mysterious deaths at the research institute seemed connected to this affair, and the Nine Chrysanthemums Sect was somehow involved.

Back in Guangzhou, my good friend Lai Li had fallen into a coma—again the work of the Nine Chrysanthemums Sect, who had used the most sinister Southeast Asian sorcery: the corpse gu.

And then there was Tang Xin, a student barely in her twenties, who nearly lost her life over a mysterious stone—one that seemed tied to the Yamaguchi-gumi and a mysterious woman named Yue Yue.

On reflection, all these events revolved around the “Nine Chrysanthemums Sect.” If I could find where they were hiding, I might begin to piece this puzzle together.

The Nine Chrysanthemums Sect had close ties with the Yamaguchi-gumi—who, as luck would have it, had just tried to kill us. Ren surely knew of their plans for us; otherwise, how else did he know Ma Junfeng was injured and that I was in the hospital? And that mysterious woman, Yue Yue—he must know something about her as well, yet he’d told me nothing.

We went to a restaurant near the hospital and booked a private room. My resentment toward Ren led me to order a lavish spread, picking out the most expensive dishes. The waiter could hardly believe it until Wang Tingting scolded him into compliance.

“Where’s the gun now, and how was it found?” I had no time to be angry at Ren; the gun’s mystery was too compelling.

Ren smiled helplessly. “We know where it is, but we haven’t been able to retrieve it yet.”

“What?” Wang Tingting and I were both incredulous. With Ren Tianxing’s status, how could there be anything he couldn’t retrieve? This was a matter of state secret. No matter the cost, it had to be recovered. Now that they knew its whereabouts, why hadn’t Ren acted? And why was he still here?

“Brother Changfeng, don’t be impatient. Have some tea. We have plenty of time to talk,” Ren said, reading my expression as he poured me tea and asked the waiter for a bottle of XO. The little restaurant didn’t carry XO, so Ren had to settle for a bottle of Maotai.

Wang Tingting and I exchanged a glance, baffled by Ren Tianxing’s behavior. When the food arrived, neither of us touched it. The atmosphere in the room grew cold and tense, sending the waiter scurrying away.

This was the effect I wanted—to force Ren Tianxing to explain himself. He must have known about the Yamaguchi-gumi’s plan to kill us; otherwise, he would not have known about Ma Junfeng’s injury or that I was in the hospital. And as for Yue Yue, he must know more than he let on.

Ren Tianxing took a bite of food and said, “The Yamaguchi-gumi are always under Interpol’s top surveillance. Every move they make is watched. Interpol had already notified our police when they entered China, but after arriving in Guangzhou, they vanished. Do you know what that means?”

Evading surveillance is one thing, but Ren and his team are no amateurs; even if you slip away, it’s only temporary. But to disappear entirely, with no trace, is another matter.

Wang, quick-tongued as ever, asked, “Does that mean they have a contact here in Guangzhou?”

“Exactly. And this place is so well hidden that a dozen people can stay there without the police noticing.”

“Could they be hiding in the suburbs, maybe a private villa or the Japanese consulate?”

“If we could think of those places, don’t you think they could as well?” Ren countered.

He had a point. But if they weren’t in any of these obvious places, where could they be? The police intelligence network was intricate; if these people were in any hotel or guesthouse, they’d have been found out. Not even District Boss Wei, the local kingpin, had any leads.

Ren sighed meaningfully. “For them to hide so well, there must be an insider. Otherwise, how could they evade our surveillance?”

That insider, clearly, was no ordinary person. To make a dozen people vanish for such a length of time required immense influence. And now, Ren’s mention of this person made me suspect a connection to the pistol.

“We used all kinds of investigative methods and, just a few hours ago, discovered that some members of the Yamaguchi-gumi had gone to a school. Coincidentally, you were also at the school, so I was ordered to fly here from Xi’an.”

“To see me become a target?” I shot back coldly. Wang Tingting pinched me under the table, warning me not to be so blunt. I ignored her and rolled my eyes.

Ren Tianxing chuckled awkwardly and continued, “Less than ten minutes after I landed, a woman called me. If you knew who she was, you’d be surprised.”

“She’s Shar1y—Chinese name Yue Yue, daughter of the U.S. Consul General in China.” I hadn’t expected the caller to be Yue Yue. That was odd, indeed.

“When you asked me to investigate Yue Yue, I’d already gathered some preliminary information. On the surface, she’s a privileged heiress helping her father, but in reality, she’s the head of the United Nations Super Organization for Asia.”

The United Nations Super Organization is a secret entity funded by member states, devoted to studying extraordinary phenomena—natural forces, UFOs, bizarre incidents, and more. Its annual budget is more than five times that of the U.S. secret research agencies.

Such is its status and importance. No wonder Yue Yue had spent eighty million so readily on that stone. The stone possessed soul-devouring power, as well as the force of a spirit—either of which would justify any price for research.

Now I understood the stone’s true value. Ironically, if not for the soul-devouring force being suppressed, even if Yue Yue had obtained the stone, countless lives might have been lost before its secret could be unraveled.

Could the Yamaguchi-gumi have attacked Yue Yue for this very reason?

Ren took another bite and continued, “When Yue Yue called, she only said she had a gift for me. Then a staff member handed me a folder. Inside were three photographs—of that pistol.”

“You’re sure?” I was shocked. “She has the gun?”

Ren nodded emphatically. No wonder he said he knew its whereabouts but hadn’t acted. With Yue Yue being the Consul General’s daughter, it’s a diplomatic matter, and even his superiors would need clearance from the Foreign Ministry.

“She told me that retrieving the lost item would be easy—as long as I could help her recover a certain stone.” Ren looked at me helplessly.

That stone was the one I’d had in my possession.

Ren asked, puzzled, “Changfeng, you’ve handled that stone—what’s its secret? Is it really more mysterious than the pistol?”

To Ren, the pistol was paramount. After all, it was astonishing to find a modern weapon hidden in a terracotta warrior over two thousand years old. But to Yue Yue, the stone was even more important, though I still couldn’t guess why.

I snorted. “To me, that stone is like a rotten egg—something to throw as far away as possible. Its value to Yue Yue is just what the pistol is to you.” At this, Wang Tingting stifled a laugh behind her hand, while Ren could only smile awkwardly.

Ren, seeing I was still upset, hurried to explain, “I got word that the Yamaguchi-gumi were coming to the school to look for the stone, but I didn’t expect you to be there and take it. They searched for you on campus and set a trap outside, waiting for you to emerge.”

We were like lambs to the slaughter. Ren had known we were walking into a trap, yet hadn’t warned me. At the thought, I snorted again.

Ren understood and continued, “I’d just landed and mustered enough police to try and help you, but Yue Yue insisted I not interfere. I had to put the bigger picture first.” His sigh and guilty expression softened my anger somewhat. Sometimes, after all, a man is bound by his position.

Ren Tianxing’s hands were tied. What he needed was in Yue Yue’s possession, and his orders were to recover the missing item at all costs. From a professional standpoint, the gun mattered more than I did. As a friend, he valued me above all else—but sometimes, you simply can’t do both. And besides, he must have believed I could find my own way out.

I understood his predicament, though I couldn’t help feeling a lingering resentment.

“Yue Yue’s refusal to let you interfere proves she knows everything about me. I suspect she’s much more than just the head of the Super Organization,” I said.

Ren and Wang Tingting nodded. One thing about Wang Tingting: whenever she didn’t understand something, she’d simply listen quietly, knowing someone would eventually explain. That was her wisdom—a trait I appreciated.

Suddenly, Wang Tingting spoke up. “Brother Ren, did Yue Yue ask you to come see Changfeng this time as well?” She put a subtle emphasis on the word “again,” making her displeasure at Ren’s earlier inaction clear. Her words went straight to the heart of Ren’s motives.

Ren flinched at her pointed use of “again,” and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

He chuckled, pulled an envelope from his pocket, and placed it before me. “Have a look for yourself.”

It was an ordinary envelope, but the letter inside was delicately scented. Wang Tingting unfolded it and read aloud:

“To Inspector Ren and Mr. Changfeng, whose reputations precede them: You are cordially invited to gather at Xiuyun Pavilion on Yanjiang Road the evening of July 6th. I await you. Sincerely, Lan Yue Yue.”

“Well! Her Chinese is quite good for a mixed-race girl,” I couldn’t help but smile wryly. July 6th—that was tomorrow.