Chapter Twenty-Five: The Iron Bead

Hu Xiong lit a cigarette, took a drag, and spoke slowly, “Detective Li, we’ve signed a commission agreement—there’s a contract. Besides, this isn’t as dangerous as you imagine. The Thirty-Sixth Bureau will be watching your back from the shadows.”

Watching his back from the shadows?

Li Changqing was silent for a moment. At this point, he had already begun to approach the cultists of the Shadow Cult using the identity of Hu Qideng. Backing out now was simply out of the question.

“I need something that will let me protect myself from the people of the Shadow Cult,” Li Changqing said, carefully tucking his credentials away inside his clothes.

Hu Xiong, cigarette between his lips, squinted as he flicked the ash out the car window. “I’ll deliver it within three days.”

Seeing that Hu Xiong had agreed, Li Changqing didn’t linger in the car. He opened the door and walked back toward the detective agency.

Watching Li Changqing’s retreating figure, Hu Xiong smiled, started the car, flicked the cigarette stub outside, and drove off.

In the days that followed, Li Changqing, Tang Xiaoyu, and Guan Wenyan didn’t leave the house.

Guan Wenyan’s wounds had scabbed over by the second day. Though they looked bloody, they were merely superficial, and after applying medicine, they healed quickly.

After interacting for two days, Li Changqing was sure that Guan Wenyan hadn’t suspected his identity, and he felt much more at ease. These days, he spent most of his time in the bedroom practicing talisman drawing.

Tang Xiaoyu, however, suffered for it. Guan Wenyan seemed eager to impress, cleaning the house three times a day.

With a cultist roaming the living room, Tang Xiaoyu couldn’t relax enough to watch TV. She could only stay bored in the bedroom, watching Li Changqing draw his strange symbols.

Three evenings later.

The desk in the bedroom was somewhat messy. Around the inkstone, the tabletop was stained with scattered traces of cinnabar, and the yellow paper was piled in three stacks.

There were over a hundred completed exorcism talismans, scattered haphazardly on his right.

But on the floor, more than three hundred discarded talismans lay.

These were Li Changqing’s fruits of labor over three days. He had spent two days hunched over, rarely speaking, focused on drawing talismans.

Tang Xiaoyu, curious, leaned on Li Changqing’s back. “Li Changqing, these things—are they the ones you used last time against that shadow? But they weren’t very powerful.”

Since she had pretended to be a shadow in front of Guan Wenyan, Tang Xiaoyu had grown fond of this posture.

At the very least, it was more comfortable than hiding in that stinky wool hat.

“Go on, what do you know?” Li Changqing stretched, pushing Tang Xiaoyu off his back.

His body ached, but seeing the desk full of exorcism talismans, he felt a sense of satisfaction.

Over the past two days, as he drew more talismans, the spiritual energy within him accumulated steadily.

“If I have time tomorrow, I’ll try the ‘General Arrives’ talisman.”

Li Changqing stretched, and just then, a knock sounded at the door. Liang Daoyi, smiling warmly, politely asked Guan Wenyan, “Is Detective Li in?”

“Mr. Liang.”

The benefactor had arrived. Smiling broadly, he stepped forward and shook Liang Daoyi’s hand. “Was Miss Lin Zhenzhen’s concert successful?”

“Very successful,” Liang Daoyi nodded, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out forty thousand Lang coins. “This is the remainder. Originally Miss Lin wanted to thank you in person, but yesterday’s concert was exhausting, and she had to fly to the next location early this morning to prepare.”

“I stayed behind to wrap things up and thank you personally.”

Taking the forty thousand Lang coins from him, Li Changqing invited, “Would you like to come in for a while?”

“No, no, I still have many things to handle. I’ll take my leave.”

Tang Xiaoyu rushed over and snatched the money, happily counting it. Guan Wenyan watched silently.

Over the past two days, he had noticed that Hu Qideng’s shadow seemed different from other Shadow Cultists.

He had analyzed quietly, suspecting that Hu Qideng had cultivated the Shadow Arts to a very high level, nearly matching the previous cult leader.

It was said that, at the pinnacle, the shadow developed its own consciousness, no longer a mere puppet.

Watching Tang Xiaoyu count the money with glee, Li Changqing sat on the sofa and said to Guan Wenyan, “Wenyan, you’ve worked hard these days.”

He thought for a moment, took out ten thousand Lang coins, and handed them over. “This is your share.”

Fair is fair.

Most of the work had been done by Guan Wenyan; it was only right to share the reward.

Guan Wenyan looked startled, waving his hands hurriedly, “Protector, you’re being too formal. I can’t accept this money.”

“Really won’t take it?” Li Changqing frowned, then forced the money into his hands. “Fair is fair. This money is yours.”

Tang Xiaoyu didn’t object. Though she loved money, she knew that she and Li Changqing had gotten theirs easily—the real effort had come from Guan Wenyan.

“Well, then, I’ll accept it?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Guan Wenyan took the money.

“Protector, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go make dinner.”

The kitchen fire was still burning; he turned and busied himself in the kitchen.

“Actually, Brother Guan seems like a pretty decent person,” Tang Xiaoyu whispered to Li Changqing.

Li Changqing wholeheartedly agreed.

Housework, cooking, exorcism—he did it all, and most importantly, he didn’t even want money. Where could one find such an assistant?

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

His phone vibrated. It was a message from Hu Xiong.

“I’m going downstairs to buy some fruit, to reward Guan Wenyan.”

Li Changqing headed downstairs, following the directions in the message to a small supermarket on the street. He walked to the fresh produce section, where Hu Xiong, wearing sunglasses and sporting a pair of fake mustaches, was casually picking through the vegetables.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

Li Changqing strolled over, focusing on the produce as he picked alongside him.

“The Shadow Cultists have arrived in Nanlin. They could come for you at any time, so caution is best.” Disguised, Hu Xiong calmly handed Li Changqing a black plastic bag. “There’s a gun inside. For your protection.”

“A gun?”

Li Changqing’s voice betrayed his dissatisfaction. “Mr. Hu, you’re giving me just a gun to protect myself from the Shadow Cult?”

Hu Xiong casually pulled off wilted leaves and tossed fresh ones into his basket. “Anything capable of dealing with supernatural threats wouldn’t be useful to you anyway. After careful consideration, I figured a gun was best.”

“How do you know if you don’t give me a chance?” Li Changqing said in a low voice. “The Shadow Cultists are nearly here. If you don’t give me something to protect myself, don’t blame me for running at the last moment.”

“You—” Hu Xiong’s brows furrowed slightly.

Li Changqing spoke sternly, “Mr. Hu, I’m a detective, not a fool.”

If they hadn’t threatened him with Tang Xiaoyu, Li Changqing would never have accepted this commission.

The so-called Thirty-Sixth Bureau’s covert protection?

He didn’t believe a word of it. Having the means to protect himself was the only real guarantee.

“This is an item I use for exorcism. I’ll lend it to you; return it later.”

Time was tight; Hu Xiong couldn’t waste any more. He discreetly handed Li Changqing an iron bead. “To use it, infuse it with spiritual energy—but you don’t even have spiritual energy…”

The iron bead was about half the size of a fist, perfectly smooth, with a cool touch.

Li Changqing calmly accepted both the iron bead and the gun. “Thank you, Mr. Hu. Anything else?”

“According to our investigation, the Shadow Cult has two methods for electing a leader.”

“The first is their ancient tradition: all contenders fight, and the sole survivor becomes the new leader.”

“The second emerged as the cult weakened—they have the contenders’ shadows duel.”

“You don’t have a shadow, so you’ll be exposed if they use the second method. When the time comes, it’s best to push for the first.”

Li Changqing paused in picking vegetables, unable to stop himself from looking at Hu Xiong. “Do you think I can take on the other two cult protectors?”

Hu Xiong held back for a long moment, finally saying, “The Thirty-Sixth Bureau will be watching your back.”

“I have other matters—so I’ll leave it at that.”

Hu Xiong picked up his basket and left after paying.

“Bastard.”

Li Changqing cursed under his breath, took a deep breath to compose himself, paid for his groceries, and headed back to the detective agency.

Night had already fallen.

On the street, two slightly hunched figures were stealthily following Li Changqing.