More than a month had passed since the Ghost Opera incident, and I had to admit—life had been pretty sweet. Over the past month, Hao Wenming was still frequently nowhere to be found, and most of the daily affairs of First Unit had fallen to Pojun. (Though to be fair, there wasn't much work anyway.) Every day, Sun Fatty and I would clock in at First Unit, then sneak out and drive around the city aimlessly. Whenever we came across a decent restaurant, we'd dive in for a feast. As long as we made it back before end-of-day check-in, it was all good.
Strangely enough, almost every time we went out, we'd bump into Xiao Heshang at the entrance. He had been given the title of "consultant" at the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation—which basically meant nobody had authority over him, and he had no authority over anyone else either. He spent his days wandering around the Bureau, doing nothing in particular.
Initially, Sun Fatty didn't want to bring him along. After all, the man was over sixty, pushing seventy—hardly the kind of company you'd want for a "lively" night out. According to Sun Fatty's schedule, our destination that evening was the infamous entertainment venue known as Heaven on Earth.
I was just about to come up with an excuse to ditch him when he started chastising me on the spot.
"Little Lazi," he said, "who do you think taught you how to block the Heavenly Eye with black dog's blood back in the day? Sure, the results weren't perfect, but I watched you grow up. Remember when you peeked at Zhang Xiaohua bathing as a kid? I never even told your grandfather about that…"
I clamped a hand over his mouth before he could finish. Mortified, I whispered, "Please, ancestor, you tricked me into going there! I was four—what the hell did I know?"
And of course, the more you don't want people to hear, the more likely they do. A few heads were already poking out from nearby to see what was going on. Sun Fatty was doubled over laughing, barely able to stand.
"Lazi… precocious, huh? Four years old… Damn!"
He gave me a big thumbs-up while laughing so hard he almost cried.
Annoyed, I shot back, "You're the one who's precocious! Your whole family's precocious! Come help me out here!"
That wiped the grin off his face. "Lazi, that's crossing a line. You know about my family…"
I sighed and looked at him pleadingly. "I'm sorry, Brother Sun. Come on, help your brother out, will you?"
"Alright, just this once. Don't let it happen again," he grumbled, but he didn't hold a grudge. Together, we half-carried, half-dragged Xiao Heshang to the parking lot. We found the car assigned to First Unit and stuffed him inside.
"Old Xiao, what do you really want?" I glared at him from the front seat. It wasn't about disrespecting the elderly—it's just that I could already imagine the rumors that would be flying around the Bureau tomorrow. And those rumors would stick around for months unless someone else made a bigger fool of themselves soon after.
Old Xiao looked at me and said, "It's been over thirty years since I last came to the capital. So much has changed. I don't know my way around anymore. You two should show me around—help me get reacquainted with the city."
"No way!" Sun Fatty cut in before I could say anything. "Where we're going isn't suitable for someone like you. We're heading to Heaven on Earth."
He even bared his teeth at Old Xiao as he said it.
The moment he heard the words Heaven on Earth(Note: This is an illegal adult entertainment place.), Xiao Heshang's eyes lit up. "Count me in…"
We were absolutely not prepared—psychologically or otherwise—to bring a nearly seventy-year-old man to a place like Heaven on Earth. In the end, we gave up and drove him to Claypot House instead, where we filled him up on braised offal, nine-turn large intestines, and claypot pork belly. That seemed to appease him for the time being. Though he did complain, "You two must think I'm a fool. Since when did Heaven on Earth open a branch called Claypot House? And when did they start serving pig innards?"
He grumbled, but his chopsticks never stopped moving. Watching the food vanish at lightning speed, I called for another round of dishes and nine sesame buns—just enough for him alone.
Sun Fatty curled his lip. "Look, if there's food, just eat. No one's asking you to pay for it."
His tone was sulky—not because of the money, but because his mind was already elsewhere. We'd exchanged looks earlier: as soon as we ditched Xiao Heshang, we'd head straight for Heaven on Earth.
But to our dismay, Old Xiao stuck to us like glue. He followed us all the way into the middle of the night and showed no signs of heading back. By the time dawn was breaking, both Sun Fatty and I had lost any desire to go to Heaven on Earth. We finally drove him back to the Bureau. Bathed in the pale glow of the rising sun, we stumbled back into our dorm room and caught a short nap.
And so it went, again and again. Every time Sun Fatty and I tried to sneak out of the Bureau, we'd find Xiao Heshang waiting for us at the front gate. Eventually, we just gave up on Heaven on Earth altogether. The moment we saw him, we'd just take him straight to Claypot House. Somehow, it had become our unofficial headquarters.
After a while, I didn't expect that Xiao Heshang and Fatty Sun had actually become close; all the previous bad feelings between them were gone. One time, after they'd drunk quite a bit, they even wanted to become sworn brothers, pulling me into it, calling me "Third Brother, Third Brother."
(Note: This is a traditional Chinese ritual where people with no blood relation establish a bond, such as sworn brothers or father and son.)
For a moment, I was at a loss whether to laugh or cry, so I quickly pulled Fatty Sun aside.
"Great Sage, if you become sworn brothers with him, that means you're on the same generation as my grandfather. How am I supposed to take that?"
I dragged Fatty Sun to the restroom, and after he vomited and sobered up a little, when we returned to the dining table, a middle-aged man dressed in a full set of designer clothes blocked our way. He recognized the already quite drunk Fatty Sun and excitedly shouted, "Great Sage, Sun Dasheng, is that you?"
"How much have you drunk? You don't even recognize me?" The man patted Fatty Sun on the shoulder. "I'm… Su Jianjun. We met at the Third Brother's wedding last month. Don't you remember? I even called you a few days ago. You said you were going to Tieling but promised to come back and find me?"
Fatty Sun had been a mole before, so even drunk, he was sensitive to names and such.
"Jianjun… you've changed so much. Wait for me a moment, I'll be right back." Saying that, Fatty Sun staggered back to the restroom. Three minutes later, when he came out, the smell of alcohol hadn't lessened, but the drunkenness on his face was almost gone.
"Jianjun, now I see why you looked so familiar." Fatty Sun pretended to shake his hand formally. Su Jianjun glanced at me and said, "Friend, Great Sage and I have some private business to discuss, you see…"
I nodded knowingly.
"You two talk. Great Sage, I'll wait with Old Xiao over there." Fatty Sun grinned at me, baring his teeth. "You pay the bill first; I'll come over soon."
Their conversation didn't last long. I barely spoke a few words with Xiao Heshang before Fatty Sun came back, grinning from ear to ear. Xiao Heshang burped and said, "Fatty, what's the good news?"
Fatty Sun chuckled and glanced at Xiao Heshang.
"Old Xiao, there's good news, and you're included."
Xiao Heshang's eyes were bloodshot from drinking.
"What good news? You two have something good and still think of this old man?"
That comment made me uncomfortable.
"Old Xiao, don't drag me into this. I have no idea what Great Sage just talked about."
Fatty Sun picked up a chopstick with some pork kidney and chewed as he said,
"Listen up. That guy just now is a henchman for a Hong Kong tycoon. His boss seems to have been cursed recently—seeing ghosts at home. Since then, both in Hong Kong and on the mainland, he's had nothing but bad luck. Buildings he's involved with collapse, companies whose stocks he buys go bankrupt. When he goes to Macau casinos, everyone wins except him. Everyone else treats him like a good luck charm—the opposite of him always wins."
Xiao Heshang squinted as he listened.
"He wants to find someone to take a look? But wait, Fatty, Hong Kong has plenty of practitioners. When I worked in Special Operations, I knew three or five. Even if they're all dead, they'd have disciples, right?"
Fatty Sun waved his hand.
"They've contacted everyone they could—feng shui masters, fortune tellers, spirit mediums, famous or not. More than thirty or fifty people. None could figure anything out. There's no way. That's why he's looking for experts on the mainland to solve it. That friend knows I have many contacts and asked if I could find a few masters. The word on the street is, if this gets solved, they don't mind paying two or three million. Guess what? I'm about half a master already. Old Xiao, since you're here, you're in on this too. What do you say?"
Xiao Heshang kept his eyes narrowed, silent, seemingly calculating something. Fatty Sun got a bit impatient.
"Old Xiao, they're still waiting for a reply. Are you going or not? If not, it'll be me and Lazi going. Don't get jealous."
Xiao Heshang finally couldn't hold back.
"I'll go. Let's get the ugly talk out of the way first—how's the payment?"
Fatty Sun grinned, showing his teeth.
"You won't lose out, it's thirty percent to you, seventy to us…"
Su Jianjun arranged the meeting with the Hong Kong tycoon for the day after tomorrow. Fatty Sun and I originally wanted to bring Po Jun in too, but Po Jun had to guard the office, no way to split up. However, from Po Jun's mouth, I learned a very interesting rule—more like an unspoken rule—inside the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation.
The Bureau doesn't explicitly forbid investigators from doing side jobs outside work hours. Instead, there's an unwritten rule: investigators who take private jobs outside must hand over fifty percent of their earnings as a "Bureau Construction Fund."
I couldn't believe my ears.
"That's allowed? And they take a cut?"
Fatty Sun wasn't happy either. He said fifty percent was too steep.
"That's not a Construction Fund, it's just a brokerage fee."
"Do you think working at the Bureau is easy?" Po Jun sighed and explained the Bureau's difficulties. Ever since the Bureau changed its name, it became a standard government agency (though almost no one knows it exists). Its main source of funding is the government, which only covers salaries and basic expenses.
Costs for R&D, equipment production, and handling emergencies are handled internally. So after the Bureau's establishment, Gao Liang turned a blind eye and tacitly allowed investigators to do private jobs. But the pay must be split with the Bureau, which is the main source of motivation.
After the money goes to the Bureau, each department takes half. The clearest example is the Bureau having its own plane (the fuel, maintenance, and airport fees alone are astronomical).
Overall, though, being able to legally do side jobs is good news.
On the morning of the third day, Fatty Sun, Xiao Heshang, and I arrived at the hotel Su Jianjun specified shortly after nine. For this, Xiao Heshang even dressed up: a white Mandarin-collar Zhongshan suit, white pants, and white shoes. If it weren't for his bald head, his age plus white hair would make him look like an otherworldly master.
When we arrived, Su Jianjun was already waiting in the lobby. After some polite greetings, he led us up in the elevator to the presidential suite floor on the eighth floor. The entire floor was rented by that person, with five or six burly men in black patrolling the hallway.
Su Jianjun brought us into the presidential suite. When we saw the man himself, both Fatty Sun and I were stunned. The world's really small—that unlucky guy was Ma Xiaolin, the very one who bought our three luminous pearls.
Ma Xiaolin was stunned too, then reacted after a few seconds.
"Mr. Shen, Mr. Sun, our paths really do cross."
As soon as he saw him, Fatty Sun was unabashed, plopping down on the sofa.
"Old Ma, only been a few days since we last met, but your face looks terrible—ashen and gray. Your eye bags are sagging, and your eyeballs are bloodshot…"
Ma Xiaolin smiled bitterly.
"Mr. Sun, don't make fun of me." Then he shifted the topic to me.
"Mr. Shen, how should I address this gentleman beside you?"
Before I could introduce him, Xiao Heshang cupped his fists toward Ma Xiaolin.
"Boss Ma, no need for formalities. I'm Hexiang, the 40th-generation leader of Lingyun Temple."
This intro was prepped in the Bureau. I followed Xiao Heshang's words:
"Master Hexiang is a senior of mine and Sun Desheng's. He was personally invited by the head of Baiyun Temple to lecture there. The ritual ended yesterday, and we were supposed to return to Lingyun Temple in a few days. We came because we heard a Hong Kong businessman was haunted. Since Master Hexiang worried that we junior disciples didn't have enough skill, he came along to check it out."
Ma Xiaolin nodded repeatedly.
"No wonder. I always said, whoever gets luminous pearls isn't an ordinary person."
Fatty Sun chuckled.
"Old Ma, I heard you've been having a rough time. Looks like you're not doing too bad—living in a presidential suite, even renting the whole floor, that can't be cheap."
Ma Xiaolin almost cried.
"Mr. Sun, do you think I want this? I'm blacklisted at almost all Asian hotels, believe it or not? Wherever I stay, if it doesn't catch fire, it's robbed. Half a month, five hotels—all had incidents. Three fires, two robberies."
"The boss of this hotel's a long-time friend, but even so, I couldn't rent a room. No choice, I rented a whole floor—and they actually rented it to me. One hundred and twenty thousand a day. This isn't renting rooms, it's burning money!"
When Ma Xiaolin said "one hundred twenty thousand a day," Xiao Heshang's facial muscles twitched. Fatty Sun had seen this before (and had a financial rat following him), so he smiled lightly.
"Old Ma, tell us what's going on. If we can help, we will."
"Yes." Ma Xiaolin's expression turned solemn.
"It all started a few days after I bought the luminous pearls from you…"
"Old Ma, cut the useless talk. Get to the point." When Ma Xiaolin mentioned the pearls, Xiao Heshang shot me and Fatty Sun a half-smile. I quickly changed the subject.
"Yes, it was around that time. I started seeing ghosts…"
Actually, the day the trouble started was exactly the day we sold him the luminous pearls. That night, Ma Xiaolin, as usual, stayed in his secret treasure room until late. When he was about to go to bed, he saw a white shadow standing at his bedside.
Ma Xiaolin is severely nearsighted. At first, he thought it was a trick of his eyes, mistaking a clothes rack for a person. But he quickly realized something was wrong. He always slept naked; his pajamas were on the bed, and there was no clothes rack in the room. And the white shadow was moving, circling around him.
Ma Xiaolin shivered and tried to call for help, but his voice got stuck in his throat. Just as he thought he might faint to add atmosphere, the white shadow suddenly disappeared.
Only then did Ma Xiaolin shout, and several workers ran over. With many people around, he wasn't as scared. They ransacked the room but found no ghost or shadow. It was already dawn by the time they finished.