Chapter 129: The Encircling Cage

Wu Cheng’an sat at the Eight Immortals table on the second floor, pressing a hot towel to his face that Jiang Xinyue had brought him. He explained that upon learning Fanny was at the Beijing Antique City, he rushed there immediately. Once he arrived, he saw Fanny leaving by car and followed him all the way to a village in Changping District.

After Fanny met someone, Wu Cheng’an stepped forward to speak with him. Suddenly, a few men appeared out of nowhere and without a word, rushed forward to bind Fanny. Startled, Fanny struggled fiercely, and Wu Cheng’an fought off the men. However, they were surprisingly skilled, and in the end, Wu Cheng’an was knocked to the ground. When he got up, Fanny had already been taken away.

Zhang Qinglin asked if Wu Cheng’an knew who the men were.

Wu Cheng’an shook his head but then looked up thoughtfully. “I saw they wore round pendants around their necks with the words ‘Qilin Sect’ inscribed.”

“Qilin Sect? Again with the Qilin Sect? Why would they abduct Fanny?” Zhang Qinglin asked, puzzled.

Yet, Zhang Qinglin’s primary concern was the safety of Cheng Che and the others. Whether Fanny had offended the Qilin Sect or not was of little consequence to him.

“Brother, what are you talking about?” Jiang Xinyue came upstairs after turning off the outdoor lights downstairs. Curious, she asked as she overheard part of their conversation.

“Nothing much. Have you finished tidying up? Xiao An got hurt; let him stay with us in the courtyard house tonight,” Zhang Qinglin said as he moved toward the large tea table outside.

“Alright, there’s still an empty room. Brother, I heard from Sister Zhou that you left in a hurry after receiving a call from out of town today. Is there news from Cheng Che’s side?” Jiang Xinyue glanced at Wu Cheng’an, whose complexion looked pale, then turned to Zhang Qinglin.

Zhang Qinglin strode toward the eastern storage room, carrying something, and said, “Cheng Che had some trouble in Xi’an and needs money. I’m going to Xi’an to bring them back.”

He did not reveal the full truth to Jiang Xinyue, fearing it would worry her. Though a well-intentioned lie, Zhang Qinglin felt uneasy. He went into the eastern room and took out a wooden box containing a bronze ritual wine vessel, feeling that it was too dangerous to keep it in the teahouse—if Sister Zhou or Jiang Xinyue came across it, it would spell disaster.

“What’s that in your hand?” Jiang Xinyue asked, noticing the wooden box.

“New tea leaves. I’m taking some back with me. I’m leaving now,” Zhang Qinglin replied calmly.

...

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth?” Wu Cheng’an asked after Jiang Xinyue had opened her door and gone inside, as he put his arm down from Zhang Qinglin’s shoulder.

Zhang Qinglin stared at Jiang Xinyue’s room for a moment, then helped Wu Cheng’an inside. “I can’t let her know about Cheng Che’s situation. I don’t want to drag her into this.”

Zhang Qinglin recounted all he had learned from Zhao Chu’s conversation to Wu Cheng’an.

Wu Cheng’an did not oppose Zhang Qinglin’s decision and insisted on accompanying him to Xi’an to ensure his safety.

Back in his room, Zhang Qinglin hid the bronze vessel.

The night passed quickly. The next morning, sunlight streamed into Zhang Qinglin’s room. Wu Cheng’an knocked twice at the door but received no response. Just as he was about to push it open, Jiang Xinyue emerged, yawning.

“Hey, what are you sneaking around for?” she asked.

“Nothing, I just knocked but no one answered,” Wu Cheng’an replied upon hearing her voice.

At that moment, Zhang Qinglin entered from the main gate carrying breakfast. He approached the stone table and said, “Come quickly, eat while it’s hot!”

“You guys eat first. I’ll wash my face,” Jiang Xinyue said, hesitating briefly before hurrying to the bathroom.

Wu Cheng’an joined Zhang Qinglin at the stone table. Zhang Qinglin glanced at him and handed him a fried dough stick, saying, “You must have something to tell me.”

“I just remembered something that might be related to your father’s whereabouts,” Wu Cheng’an said as he sat down.

Zhang Qinglin swallowed his dough stick, eyes wide, and urged, “What is it? Tell me quickly.”

“Do you remember when you found the pixiu and learned about Fanny, mistaking him for Ma Ye, and all that happened after you went to Qinghai?” Wu Cheng’an began slowly.

Though Fanny was mistaken for Ma Ye at the time, he had indeed come into contact with Zhang Qinglin’s father, so the trip to Qinghai was not in vain. Zhang Qinglin nodded, “Yes, what about it?”

Wu Cheng’an explained that the person Fanny met in Handan was likely Ma Ye. When Fanny was captured, he recited a string of numbers meant for contacting someone. Wu Cheng’an had been cautious and, upon meeting that person, saw him take a phone call addressing the other party as Ma Ye. Wu Cheng’an then followed this man to his residence and saw the person Fanny had met in Handan.

After breakfast, Zhang Qinglin and Wu Cheng’an went to that residential complex, only to find several police cars parked outside. Onlookers said someone had died there that morning. When they saw the body being carried out, it was the man Wu Cheng’an had been trying to contact.

It seemed Ma Ye was no longer there.

On their way back to the teahouse, they encountered Bai Weiwei, who sat in a car calling for Zhang Qinglin. She ignored Wu Cheng’an but cast him a strange look.

Bai Weiwei told Zhang Qinglin someone wanted to see him but did not say who and urged him to go alone.

Wu Cheng’an was reluctant to let Zhang Qinglin go by himself. After all, Bai Weiwei was one of the managers at the mining area and had a special relationship with Wu Guangen, so he did not trust Zhang Qinglin to go alone.

In the end, Zhang Qinglin got into the car. He had told Wu Cheng’an that Bai Weiwei had saved his life when he was in danger in Xi’an. Having spent several days together, if she wanted to harm him, he would have been dead long ago.

The atmosphere in the car was tense and awkward; the three barely spoke, each lost in their own thoughts.

When the car pulled up to a grand mansion in Fangshan District, Zhang Qinglin took in the impressive, dignified sign above the gate and immediately realized the owner was no ordinary person. He followed Bai Weiwei inside and was left waiting outside the mansion while they went in.

Stepping inside, Zhang Qinglin felt a sense of broadening horizons. This estate was no less grand than Chen Shengxiao’s villa—in fact, it was even more noble and solemn.

Walking through the courtyard, he saw it was a classic Chinese garden house with rockeries, verdant bamboo, and flowing water. Despite the cold winter, the courtyard still displayed touches of green.

Such Chinese gardens often use natural scenery, pavilions, corridors, and winding rooms to reflect the owner’s indifference to worldly affairs, detachment from the mundane, and admiration for the beauty of nature.

Notably, bamboo in classical Chinese gardens symbolizes virtue and noble character.

Bamboo is a metaphor for humility, integrity, uprightness, and resilience against the cold frost.

Zhang Qinglin’s eyes darted around as Bai Weiwei led him along a stream and into a two-story villa. He marveled at the unique lifestyle of the wealthy.

Entering the first-floor reception hall, they saw a burly, imposing man standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, leaning on a cane and admiring the view.

Bai Weiwei approached the sofa and called out, “Father, I’ve brought the person!”

That address took Zhang Qinglin by surprise. The man by the window was Bai Weiwei’s father. When he turned to face Zhang Qinglin, his piercing eyes met his gaze. Even more astonishing, he was none other than the moderately famous entrepreneur Bai Suishan.

Zhang Qinglin had often seen news about Bai Suishan in newspapers and magazines. Bai Suishan was the head of Centenary International Trading Company. He had come to Beijing ten years ago, rising from an ordinary worker to a well-known entrepreneur amid the city’s turbulent transformations, enduring many trials along the way.

In recent years, Centenary International has rapidly expanded into various commercial sectors, thanks largely to its stable cash flow, never experiencing a financial chain break—a fact that has amazed and envied many.

Some even whispered that Centenary International’s unbroken funding was because Bai Suishan was once a tomb raider who made his fortune from stolen treasures.

Seeing him in person inspired awe in Zhang Qinglin. Bai Suishan was indeed as graceful and imposing as the articles described, standing out among today’s entrepreneurs.

Bai Suishan stood straight, hands gripping his cane, and said firmly, “Good. Weiwei, you may go find Uncle Liu. I have something to discuss with your friend.”

Zhang Qinglin looked at Bai Weiwei, who nodded and glanced at him before turning to leave.

As Bai Weiwei exited, only Zhang Qinglin and Bai Suishan remained in the room. Zhang Qinglin stood stiffly, uncertain. He couldn’t understand why he always seemed to get entangled with wealthy people—and how such ties never brought anything good.

“Don’t just stand there. Come, sit,” Bai Suishan said calmly, motioning toward the sofa.

He then walked to the sofa and sat down slowly.

Seeing Bai Suishan’s approachable demeanor, Zhang Qinglin relaxed and sat on the side sofa next to him, awkwardly asking, “I wonder why President Bai wants to see an ordinary person like me?”

“Young man, that’s not the right way to speak. From a worldly perspective, we’re all ordinary people. In ancient times, ‘commoners’ referred to the masses, not the nobility. Do you know who I am?” Bai Suishan sat upright, eyes never leaving Zhang Qinglin’s, a faint smile on his face.

Zhang Qinglin replied cautiously, “President Bai is a well-known businessman in the capital. How could I not know? You’re not only successful in business but also erudite—a model for us younger generations.”

Bai Suishan’s eyes narrowed as he smiled. Zhang Qinglin wasn’t sure if his flattery had worked, but he had expected praise, not a long lecture.

“Do you know why people strive to climb higher? The higher you climb, the less likely others will look down on you. But as you gain more, you also lose more. It’s good that you speak well, young man, but effort alone isn’t enough; you need someone to watch your back,” Bai Suishan said as a servant brought over freshly brewed tea.

Zhang Qinglin sipped the fragrant Bi Luo Chun tea.

Bai Suishan continued, “Back to business. Weiwei told me the Zhao family is causing you trouble; I’m roughly aware of the situation. Your friend is now in Zhao Chu’s hands. That kid isn’t someone to underestimate. Do you have something he wants?”

Zhang Qinglin’s eyes brightened, surprised that Bai Suishan knew about the item Zhao Chu desired.

“President Bai, I don’t understand what you mean by ‘the item,’” Zhang Qinglin said.

“Kid, you’re currently the most closely watched by many tomb-robbing gangs. The thing you have is highly sought after. I forgot to mention, anyone who comes to me, I know everything about them,” Bai Suishan’s words made Zhang Qinglin suddenly uneasy. The man before him seemed transformed—the tone and attitude were completely different from before. Perhaps Zhang Qinglin hadn’t been fully honest, or maybe everyone has their own agenda. Now, he felt exposed, as if laid bare for all to see.

“Don’t be nervous. I know what you have. Just tell me what Zhao Chu wants you to do and his purpose,” Bai Suishan’s gaze sharpened fiercely.

Startled by the intensity of the look, Zhang Qinglin remained silent for a long while. Then, after taking a sip of tea, he briefly explained the matter of the map and his dealings with Zhao Chu.

“A treasure? Ha! That’s indeed tempting. But from what I’ve discovered, the treasure in Emperor Gaozong’s tomb is a trap. The real treasure lies beneath the Luo River. If you want to save your friend, you must follow my instructions. If you don’t, it’s fine—once I release this information, the moment you leave here, you’ll be captured. You won’t even be able to save yourself, let alone your friend.”