Chapter Thirteen: Add a Little More

This was a dark, damp, and icy room, so pitch-black that one could not see their own hand before their face.

Click.

The electric light flickered twice before coming on.

Hu Qideng was imprisoned inside, his clothes already changed into a special black prison uniform, embroidered with orderly, golden lines.

Chains and shackles bound him without omission, and two long nails had been driven into his back, shattering his shoulder blades. The wounds had long since dried and scabbed over.

Even one with uncanny powers would find escape nearly impossible under such circumstances.

Outside, two men entered. One of them was Baichuan, the very person who had captured Hu Qideng.

The other had a hooked nose and small, penetrating eyes, the corners of which were etched with fine wrinkles.

"This is the one, isn't it?"

Baichuan caught the thick scent of blood in the room, mingled with a faint stench. Instinctively, he covered his nose. "Yes, a filthy rat from the Shadow Cult. But we've uncovered some very interesting things about him. His identity seems to be more than just a low-level member. He's carrying that thing, but he refuses to reveal its whereabouts."

The man with the hooked nose kept his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze fixed intently on Hu Qideng, as if trying to discern truth from his eyes.

"That thing is very important to the Shadow Cult. Before Baichuan captured you, you would have kept it with you at all times. Which means you hid it after you were caught."

"All we need to do now is retrace your movements after your capture—finding it won't be difficult for our Thirty-Sixth Bureau."

"You Shadow Cultists have long hidden in cold, dark places. Yet this time you dare to surface. What is it you intend to do?"

Hu Qideng kept his head bowed, listening quietly to the man’s words, yet said nothing, nor did his gaze meet the other's sharp eyes.

"After you caught him, where did you go?" the hooked-nosed man asked.

Unable to bear the stench of the cell, Baichuan retreated into the corridor, inhaled a breath of fresher air, and replied, "It should be in that place. Let's go."

With a clang, the iron door was shut. The two departed down the dim corridor.

…

With the creaks of an old bus, Li Changqing finally arrived at the bus stop two hundred meters from the detective agency.

Inside, the TV was playing a soap opera. Tang Xiaoyu, dressed in plush pajamas, sat cross-legged on the sofa, yawning.

Hearing the door open, she quickly stood up, curiosity in her eyes. "You’re back? Did you argue with your sister again?"

Usually, when Li Changqing returned from the bun shop, he would complain to Tang Xiaoyu that his sister still didn’t support his ambitions.

"There’s nothing to fight about. Why are you still up so late?" Li Changqing sat on the soft sofa and poured himself a cup of tea.

"I've been sleepy for ages." Tang Xiaoyu yawned, covering her mouth with a hand, then pointed outside. "Another client came today and left a phone number at the door."

She had stayed up just to wait for Li Changqing and relay the client's information.

"The phone number? I’ll deal with it tomorrow."

"Then I’m off to bed." Tang Xiaoyu’s form dissolved into a wisp of blue smoke and slipped into her coin pouch. Li Changqing sprawled comfortably on the sofa, recalling everything about Li Lin and Li Qingsnow.

His younger sister was lively and energetic, clearly on good terms with her “second brother.” As for his elder sister Li Lin, though she appeared cold, she still worried over him.

He understood that the affection these two sisters showed was for the original Li Changqing, not for him, a soul from another world.

Yet, he could still sense this subtle familial warmth. Being with them allowed him to truly relax.

Knock, knock, knock.

Heavy rapping sounded at the iron door.

"Who’s there?" Could it be the client who came earlier? No, who comes calling at such an hour?

Puzzled, he opened the door to find Baichuan, the man who had taken Hu Qideng away the previous day—a man who looked slightly malnourished.

Beside him stood the hooked-nosed man, eyes sharp and restless, his entire presence tinged with gloom. He appeared to be in his forties.

"Gentlemen, may I help you?" Li Changqing tried to keep his expression natural and even smiled a little, but inwardly he was on guard.

He had long suspected that if the Thirty-Sixth Bureau was indeed an organization specializing in strange occurrences, as he guessed, then his own increasing rigidity might attract their attention. What if they decided to apprehend him for “humane disposal”?

"Let’s talk inside." The two men stepped straight into the living room.

Li Changqing closed the door behind them and gestured toward the sofa. "Please, have a seat. May I offer you something to drink?"

Baichuan approached the sofa, ran a finger along its surface, frowned, and wiped his fingertip with a handkerchief, clearly disinclined to sit.

The hooked-nosed man, however, sat down with a smile. "Don't mind him. He’s a bit of a neat freak," he explained casually.

Li Changqing forced a polite smile, poured two cups of tea at the table, and asked, "What brings you both here? Is it a case, or something else?"

Baichuan cast a discreet glance at the coin pouch.

The pouch quivered slightly.

Li Changqing’s brow furrowed. Were they after Tang Xiaoyu?

He placed the tea before his guests and quietly moved to stand between them and the pouch. "Please, have some tea."

Baichuan made no move to accept the cup. "Hu Qideng lost something. It should be here, right?"

"You must be joking, Mr. Bai. Though he came here with you yesterday, he never even entered the living room, let alone left anything behind."

The hooked-nosed man seemed unsurprised by this answer. "I’m not here to retrieve it. If you keep it, that’s fine. Soon, the rest of the Shadow Cult will come looking for it."

"When they do, remember this: you are Hu Qideng. I need you to infiltrate the Shadow Cult. As for what you’ll do inside, await my instructions."

Li Changqing’s whole body tensed. What the hell was this? That black lump left with him, and now the cultists would come looking? Infiltrate a cult as an undercover agent?

"Ah, gentlemen, now that you mention it, it’s possible Hu Qideng did hide something here. Perhaps I should search more thoroughly. Who knows, I might find it."

The hooked-nosed man smiled and set down two stacks of shining gold coins on the table. "Consider me your client. Here’s a deposit of twenty thousand lang coins. When you succeed, the remaining eighty thousand will be yours."

Li Changqing’s lips twitched as he eyed the stacks of coins. "It’s not about the money, gentlemen. I fear you’ve come to the wrong person."

The hooked-nosed man added another stack atop the first two. "Fifteen thousand lang coins. That’s a deposit of thirty thousand."

Even Baichuan looked surprised, but said nothing.

"I..." Li Changqing licked his dry lips. Thirty thousand lang coins... Even handling a bizarre case like Hu Qideng’s would only earn him twenty thousand—and that included some trickery.

"Sorry, but it’s really not about the money," he said.

The hooked-nosed man shot a meaningful glance at the coin pouch and spoke with veiled threat. "Detective, our Thirty-Sixth Bureau hasn’t had much work lately. You wouldn’t want her taken away as one of our cases, would you?"

Was that a threat?

Li Changqing knew he was powerless to resist. He clenched his fists, weighed his options, then took a deep breath and said in a low voice, "Add a bit more."