Chapter 61: Sowing Discord

"You walk in here so brazenly—aren’t you afraid of exposing yourself?" Bai Yulan covered her nose, a trace of disdain flickering in her gaze.

Zhou Sen reeked so strongly of alcohol it was unbearable.

"If you were Lady Bao Si, then I’d be King You of Zhou right now. Anyway, outsiders will think you’ve bewitched me with some sorcery," Zhou Sen chuckled.

"Enough with your nonsense," Bai Yulan snorted coldly.

Zhou Sen pulled out a confession from his coat and slapped it onto the tea table. "Take a look at this and you’ll understand."

"What’s this?" Bai Yulan stepped forward, bent down to pick up the document, and scanned its contents. Her expression changed. "This is Luan Yuanhui’s statement at the police station! He claims it was Qin Xiong from the Qunfang House who ordered him to set fire at the Fragrant Pavilion?"

"You spread rumors that Luan Yuanhui and Yan Yuyan were in cahoots—wasn’t that deliberately muddying the waters? You wanted Su Wenqing and Old Qin to suspect each other and break their alliance against you. I just helped you confirm it," Zhou Sen laughed lightly.

"What use is this, now that you’ve brought it back?"

"Don’t worry, there’s still an original at the police station. This copy, I had him rewrite and sign separately," Zhou Sen explained.

"He listened to you?"

"I told him I’m one of President Su’s men, and I need something to report back with. So he obediently signed it," Zhou Sen smiled.

"How shameless you are. Su Wenqing is a pillar of commerce, Old Qin is a giant of the underworld, and you’ve played them both like puppets?" Bai Yulan clicked her tongue, laughing, ever more amazed by Zhou Sen’s prowess.

"It’s you, not me. I’m just a courier," Zhou Sen chuckled. "Su Wenqing will soon trace this back to me, and so will Old Qin. Be careful—they might get desperate."

"What about you? Neither of them are gentle souls. If you ruin their plans, won’t they come after you?" Bai Yulan asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"I still have my identity as a police officer. They won’t dare act rashly, or they’ll end up in trouble themselves," Zhou Sen mused.

"You’re just a lowly patrolman. They could crush you like an ant," Bai Yulan scoffed.

"I’ve been transferred to the Special Affairs Division," Zhou Sen grinned.

Bai Yulan’s eyes widened slightly.

The Special Affairs Division at the police station—an infamous department that sent chills through the citizens of Ice City. The officers there wielded extraordinary power: they could arrest, convict, and even dispose of people without evidence or reason.

"Rest assured, my transfer isn’t for the sort of unspeakable deeds you imagine," Zhou Sen said, seeing the change in Bai Yulan’s expression and knowing what was on her mind.

Bai Yulan’s face eased somewhat.

"I came to tell you—hand over that signed confession," Zhou Sen gestured to Bai Yulan’s hand.

"Why do you need it?"

"I’m going to meet someone," Zhou Sen replied.

"Who?"

"Qin Lang."

"Are you mad? You want to see Qin Lang now?" Bai Yulan gasped.

"It’s an agreement between us. How else do you think he knew Yan Yuyan left the Fragrant Pavilion?" Zhou Sen put away the confession, chuckling as he stood.

...

North Third Street, Changsulou Restaurant.

"Zhou, aren’t you ever done? Do you really take me for a fool?" Qin Lang stormed upstairs, his eyes blazing when he saw Zhou Sen.

"Second Young Master Qin, don’t take out your anger on me just because things aren’t going well at home," Zhou Sen smiled, rising to pour Qin Lang a cup of tea. "Have some tea, calm down."

"I don’t want it. What do you want now?"

"What about the thing you promised me?" Zhou Sen extended his hand expectantly.

Qin Lang’s lips twitched with unwillingness. He reached into his coat and pulled out an IOU, slapping it onto the table.

Zhou Sen picked it up and examined it closely—it was the thirty-thousand yuan IOU Bai Yulan had written for Yan Yuyan.

He could have destroyed it on the spot, but after a moment’s thought, he tucked it away for safekeeping. Then, slowly, he produced Luan Yuanhui’s confession and handed it to Qin Lang.

Qin Lang took it, and his face changed dramatically as he read. "Zhou, where did you get this?"

"Second Young Master Qin seems to have forgotten my identity. Is it really so difficult for me to obtain a confession like this?" Zhou Sen laughed, countering.

"Are you trying to sow discord again?" Qin Lang demanded.

"If you have brotherly affection, you could just hand this confession to your elder brother," Zhou Sen said carelessly, entirely unconcerned.

Qin Lang’s lips twitched. With his father’s favoritism, even if he brought this evidence forward, his elder brother would come to no harm—at most, he’d be blamed for carelessness in getting caught and sent to the police station.

"What are you really after?"

"Second Young Master Qin, I just want you to understand: sometimes, yielding and considering the bigger picture won’t earn you sympathy. People will only see you as weak. What you want, you must fight for yourself," Zhou Sen smiled, standing to leave. "I’m off now. Farewell."

Qin Lang held the confession, neither able to stay nor to leave.

Zhou Sen knew that even if Qin Lang didn’t hand the confession to his elder brother, Qin Xiong would find out about Luan Yuanhui’s situation. Qin Xiong would naturally think Su Wenqing was behind it, and Su Wenqing would suspect Luan Yuanhui’s connection to Yan Yuyan.

Zhou Sen wasn’t trying to stir up trouble between the Qin brothers, but between Su Wenqing and Old Qin.

Leaving Changsulou, Zhou Sen raised his hand and flagged down a small horse-drawn carriage, telling the driver, "Haicheng Street."

The carriage rolled forward.

Inside, Zhou Sen shaded his face with his cap and feigned sleep.

He didn’t know how much time had passed before the carriage stopped. Zhou Sen awoke from his pretend slumber. "Are we there?"

No answer came. He pushed open the door and stepped down, finding himself in a desolate place, with only a single dilapidated house in sight.

It was the only one.

He had already left the city center of Ice City behind; in the distance, he could see towering buildings—likely the urban fringe.

He wasn’t certain exactly where.

Only the carriage remained; both the horse and the driver were gone.

Not a soul was visible. He could only walk toward the decrepit house, hoping to find the person he was meant to meet.

"Hello—is anyone there?" Zhou Sen reached to knock, but the loosely closed door swung inward and crashed to the ground.

Dust flew up, choking him into a fit of coughing.

The floor was thick with dirt; the one-legged table bore a heavy layer of dust. It seemed the owner had long since moved away.

Who had brought him to such a place, and for what purpose?

Zhou Sen was utterly baffled.

He searched the area—no people, not even a mouse. Not a grain of rice; any rodents here would starve to death.

Twilight approached. He needed to leave quickly, or risk freezing to death overnight in the bitter cold.

Every winter, people died of exposure in Ice City; he had no wish to become one of them.

As he stepped out of the abandoned house to leave, three figures appeared before him.

All three had their faces covered, making their features impossible to discern. One in front, two behind, they blocked his path completely. Judging by their hair and eye color, they were all Caucasian.

"Gentlemen, let’s talk this out. If there’s something you want, we can negotiate," Zhou Sen immediately conceded, knowing one man stood no chance against three.

"Young Master Vasim, we’ve wanted to meet you for some time. Now, at last, we have," the leader said in fluent Russian.

"Sir, do we know each other?" Zhou Sen asked cautiously.

"No, you don’t know me, but I know you," the leader replied with a smile. "We brought you here to ask a favor."

"Say what you need. If I can help, I will," Zhou Sen said without hesitation.

"Officer Vasim, you’ve made quite a name for yourself at Nangang Police Station. Recently solved a murder case, received a commendation and a promotion—you’re said to be the rising star of Ice City’s police."

"You flatter me. I’m just doing my duty as an officer."

"Do you know the real identity of Suzanna, whom you sent to prison?" the leader pressed.

"She’s a cashier at Dalbank Bank, and the girlfriend of the murdered newspaper editor, Mr. Shelkin..."

"She has another identity: she’s an agent of the Russian Far East Intelligence Bureau."

"What? She’s a Russian agent?" Zhou Sen cried out in shock.

"No need to be surprised. She knew you’d investigate her, so she approached you first, hoping you wouldn’t suspect anything. But you still uncovered part of the truth. I must admit I admire you—such insight from a mere suspicion. It’s a pity, though, someone of your talent works for the Japanese."

"A blind spot? No, I’m just a regular patrol officer. The case was assigned to me; if I didn’t solve it, I’d have trouble myself. What good does it do you to capture me?" Zhou Sen babbled defensively.

"Naturally, we intend to exchange you for Suzanna. What else?"

"An exchange? You overestimate me. I’m just a small-time cop. If Suzanna really is your agent, why would the Japanese agree to trade her for me?" Zhou Sen argued.

"But you have another identity: you’re the adopted son of the wealthy Russian businessman, Anthony Robin. That, the Japanese cannot ignore."

"You really don’t understand the Japanese. They’d rather kill the wrong person than let one escape. Besides, I’m only Robin’s adopted son, not his flesh and blood. If I die, he might pick a good grave for me, but what else would he do?"

"Young Master Vasim, you’re quite persuasive. I almost believed you myself. But since we’ve kidnapped you to exchange for Suzanna, we won’t easily change our minds. You can only hope your superiors agree to our terms for your sake."

A black hood descended suddenly, covering his head and blotting out his sight.

Then he felt his feet leave the ground, his whole body lifted and tossed into a carriage—likely the same one that had brought him.

Moments later, a heavy blow struck his neck. Darkness overcame him, and he knew nothing more. Yet, just before losing consciousness, a familiar scent reached him.

They had finally made their move.