Chapter 3: Enormous Wealth (Part 2)
I did a quick cleanup of the scattered glass, then hauled the crate along the roadside until I found a side path leading away from the road. I followed it for a while, but there was no village ahead—just a trail heading deeper into the mountains. I didn't dare go any further; the forest at night was pitch-black, and I couldn't see where I was going. One wrong step and I'd tumble into a ravine.
I slipped into a stand of trees and found a relatively flat spot to sit down, leaning my back against the crate.
The exhaustion of the entire day caught up with me at once. It felt like every ounce of energy had been wrung from my body. The moment I sat down, a deep sleepiness pulled at me.
I leaned against the crate and told myself I'd just close my eyes for a moment. But time has a way of working against you—what I thought would be a brief nap turned into the night passing entirely. By the time I blearily opened my eyes again, the dark had given way to dawn.
Where did the time go?
I rubbed my eyes, trying to force myself alert. I took a sip from the water bottle I'd pocketed, but my brain was still foggy. The sheer exhaustion and the discomfort of sleeping on the ground couldn't be offset by a single swig of water.
Suddenly, a loud buzzing broke the silence, and an enormous moth—wingspread the size of half a palm—landed right on my collar. Heaven help me, I leaped to my feet, flailing and slapping at myself like I was breakdancing, and my brain jolted fully awake.
Turns out a giant moth works far better than Red Bull or coffee for waking you up. My heart hammered as I panted for breath, thinking I needed to get out of this godforsaken place immediately.
My biggest headache was still that crate of gold. I had to get rid of it—and fast.
I hauled the crate back to the road. Morning traffic was a bit heavier than overnight, though still nothing like the city. Burdened by the weight, I trudged along wearily until I noticed a sign: Rafting Scenic Area—800 Meters.
My spirits lifted. I'd been to that rafting area before—it was a perfect spot to stash gold.
After another half hour of lugging the crate, I reached the entrance. The scenic area was really just a mountain-river rafting complex that required tickets, but I wasn't interested in going inside. What I'd spotted was the row of storage lockers outside the main gate.
It wasn't operating hours yet—no staff, no visitors—but the lockers were accessible with coins. I fed in a few, opened a large locker at the bottom row, and slid the crate inside. On second thought, I pocketed a few small gold bars.
Surrendering every last gram wasn't practical. Money on the road was bound to come in handy, and as long as I was still a fugitive, gold was hard currency—it might just save my life.
I took the locker key and tossed it into the nearby river. With that done, I finally left the scenic area, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. The exhaustion had been cut in half.
Walking on, I passed through a small village with a convenience store run by an old woman. I bought some food and asked if she had unregistered SIM cards. Country stores were far more practical than city shops—they didn't rope you into vampiric "promotion packages." The woman simply opened a drawer, produced a pile of cards, and told me to take my pick. I bought several.
I loaded a new SIM into my phone and pulled out Detective Sullivan's business card. I dialed.
The call connected quickly, and a polite voice answered: "Hello, who is this?"
"Detective Sullivan, this is Marcus Zhang. You gave me your card."
A few seconds of silence on the other end, then: "Where are you?"
"I can't tell you that. But I wanted to ask—do you know someone named Swallow Lin?"
"I do. A black-market gold buyer. She and her brother Tiger Lin are both fugitives... Why are you asking about her?"
So the truck driver's name was Tiger Lin. Fugitives, just as I'd suspected. No wonder they'd been so panicky around the police.
"I've intercepted a shipment of Swallow Lin's gold. It's almost certainly contraband. I've hidden it in locker number 20 at the Rafting Scenic Area—I threw the key in the river. You're the police; you can have it opened."
Sullivan was clearly caught off guard. "What do you mean? Whose gold did you intercept?"
"Swallow Lin's."
"How did you get tangled up with her while you're on the run?"
"Detective, I never wanted to run. I did go into that apartment and I did take the gold, but I didn't set the fire. Please believe me—there are a lot of misunderstandings in this case. I'm tracking down leads. When I find the evidence that proves my innocence, I'll go to the station and turn myself in."
"So you're telling me you're demonstrating a willingness to surrender?"
"Yes. If I'm arrested before I clear my name, this gold should prove I had that intention. I'm counting on you to report my cooperation and argue for leniency."
"Listen to me—I have no idea how you ended up with the Lin siblings'(property, but they are not people to trifle with. Don't do anything reckless, or your life will be in danger! If you think there are misunderstandings in your case, let the police investigate. We can clear your name—"
I was quiet for a moment, then said: "If relying on others ever worked, my life wouldn't have fallen apart in the first place."
I hung up, removed the SIM card, and tossed it by the side of the road. Then I put on my mask and cap and flagged down a bus heading into the city.
The police had set up checkpoints going outbound, but inbound traffic faced no obstruction. I made it back into the city without incident. My first order of business was to head straight for International Plaza—the only Chanel boutique in town.
Major malls usually opened at ten. I stood outside the Chanel store until an employee arrived to unlock the doors.
I stopped her with as much courtesy as I could muster. "Excuse me, I'd like to ask you something."
She gave me a wary look. I brought out the woman's phone and showed her the lock screen. "Do you recognize this person?"
"May I ask what this is about?"
"I found her phone. I think I've seen her at this store before—could you help me look up the owner's information?"
The employee's guard went up immediately. "Sir, you should turn the phone in to the police and let them contact the owner. We don't disclose member information."
She'd already let slip what I needed to know—the woman was indeed a member here. I hadn't come to the wrong place.
Since she wouldn't cooperate, I pivoted. "Let me be straightforward. I met this girl at a party and really liked her. She happened to leave her phone behind, and I don't want to return it through her friends—I want to give it back to her in person. It's an opportunity for me..."
"Sir, please don't interrupt my work. We're a luxury brand with strict privacy policies."
I quietly slipped a small gold bar into her palm and lowered my voice. "Rules are rigid, but people are adaptable—wouldn't you agree? The store will always be the store, but you won't always be its employee. Once you move on, whether it's luxury or not won't matter to you anymore. Think about it."
She hesitated for a moment, then pocketed the gold and murmured, "How should I send you the information?"
"Give me your email address."
As a wanted man, I couldn't risk phone contact. I gave her an email address I barely used.
Having a few gold bars on hand turned out to be enormously convenient. Not long after her shift started, I received the woman's details.
Her name was Wendy Xu, and she lived in apartment 1618 at Ziqi Gardens.
Ziqi Gardens was one of the city's more upscale residential complexes—and it wasn't far, situated right near the plaza. No wonder she was a Chanel regular. For all its luxury status, the complex's security was basically nonexistent, since the units were commercially zoned apartments rather than residential condos.
Wearing my mask and cap, I strolled right past the guards without even having to sign in. I just told them I was here to stay at the apart-hotel.
When I found unit 1618, the door was shut tight, but there was a window in the hallway wall—directly into the bathroom. Commercial apartments often had windows only on one side, and for ventilation, many units opened the bathroom window toward the corridor. It let developers market them as "cross-ventilated."
I stood on tiptoe and peered through the bathroom window. Instantly, I knew I had the right place.
Hanging inside that bathroom was the same outfit the woman had been wearing yesterday!
I pressed my ear to the door and could hear footsteps inside. A surge of dark satisfaction rose in my chest. The little minx thought she'd escaped my grasp—she had no idea I'd tracked her down so fast.
There were security cameras in the hallway, so I couldn't linger too long without drawing suspicion. I slipped into the stairwell next door and settled in to wait. A hunter needed patience. It was close to mealtime—she'd either go out to eat, or order delivery. If she cooked for herself... I'd just wait longer.
After more than an hour, the door finally opened.
I snapped to attention. Wendy Xu emerged wearing sunglasses and a mask, carrying several bags. I quickened my pace and closed the distance. The moment she heard rapid footsteps approaching, she turned—just as I grabbed her head and slammed her against the door!
She shrieked in pain. I said coldly, "What did I tell you yesterday?"
"It hurts... let me go..."
"I'm not pressing that hard. Stop playing games."
"It really hurts, please let go..."
She was practically sobbing. I noticed something wet on my hand and loosened my grip. Her mask was soaked with blood.
Wendy Xu clutched her face and crumpled to the floor, weeping. "I have wounds on my face. They'd just stopped bleeding, and you've opened them all up again."
I frowned, grabbed her by the hair, and hauled her to her feet. I forced her fingers onto the keypad lock. "Nobody in this world coddles you except your parents. Open the door! I saved your life yesterday, and you betrayed me twice. Don't give me the wounded routine—I ought to slap you myself!"