Chapter Ninety-Nine: A New Destination

Over the next three days, Wanqing discovered that Fanny was formerly the director of the Hebei Institute for the Protection and Research of Ancient Architecture. His background was not very complicated, and his personal network was quite simple, as he had spent most of his time working away from home.

A few years ago, Fanny had indeed sent a researcher to Tianhe County to conduct a field study on Haichan Temple and the surrounding villages in Qingshan. However, on the very first day there, the researcher was robbed and beaten to death by some bandit-like farmers. Those farmers were later arrested, and the matter was considered resolved.

Cheng Che propped his chin on his hand, lifting his eyelids to glance at Zhang Qinglin. “If the ‘Code Master’ those men mentioned is actually Fanny, then there’s no need to look for Wu Mingshi.”

Zhang Qinglin replied in a low voice, “If the ‘Code Master’ is Fanny, why does no one know the true identity of the ‘Code Master’?”

“Old Zhang, haven’t you figured it out? Aunt Xiao said the ‘Code Master’ is very elusive, and very few people have actually seen him in person.”

Wu Cheng’an raised his hand to rub his somewhat stiff neck and said, “Since Wu Mingshi’s whereabouts are unknown, we can only try to meet Fanny first.”

“It might be difficult to meet Fanny; he isn’t at the institute,” Wanqing said.

According to the information Wanqing had gathered, Fanny was currently working in Hualong County, Qinghai.

Without delay, Zhang Qinglin and the others packed their things and headed to Qinghai. Wanqing accompanied them; she couldn’t return to Beijing yet, still unsettled over Xun Ge’s affair.

Before leaving for Qinghai, Zhang Qinglin called Jiang Xinyue. Her mood wasn’t very high on the phone. She said that Uncle Jiang had gotten into a fight and ended up at the police station, but fortunately, Uncle Fu handled the matter, and the other party no longer pursued it. She repeatedly cautioned Zhang Qinglin to be careful when traveling.

Fanny was working at Xiashi Temple in Hualong County. Built in 1394, Xiashi Temple is one of the oldest Tibetan Buddhist temples in Qinghai. It stands on a steep cliff, and from its top, one can see the winding Yellow River below. They were there to carry out restoration and preservation work.

Their journey took nearly twenty hours. Upon arriving in Hualong County, the sky had turned overcast. As they drove along the winding mountain roads, a heavy wet snow began to fall.

Such weather was a true test of the driver’s skill. Aside from the tricky turns, most of the road was uphill. As long as the road wasn’t slippery and the driving was skillful, they could reach the summit. However, while turning, they nearly skidded off the cliff edge—a harrowing moment.

The two cars drove one after the other, slowly ascending the mountain amid the rain and snow.

It was already eleven at night when they arrived at Xiashi Temple. They parked in a designated lot enclosed by a fence. As they got out of the cars, they saw a few people covering items in front of the temple with plastic sheets. None wore raincoats; their clothes were soaked through by the rain and snow.

Zhang Qinglin immediately ran over to help. The others locked the cars and hurried to join the group struggling to cover the materials.

After more than half an hour of covering and weighing down, all the materials outside the temple and the half-finished foundation work were properly protected.

They entered the temple’s main hall. Zhang Qinglin saw about a dozen people heading inside, presumably from the institute. Among them were two or three women, who were brushing wet hair back as they walked.

Seeing them gather on either side of the hall, seemingly holding a small meeting, Zhang Qinglin and his group didn’t recklessly follow but instead found a spot near the entrance to dry their drenched clothes.

Standing at the hall’s doorway, Zhang Qinglin watched the fluttering snowflakes outside, raised his arm, and wiped the rain from his face with his sleeve. He sighed, “The snow’s coming down. Good thing we made it up in time—if the car had broken down halfway, it would have been a real problem.”

A dry towel suddenly appeared before him. Zhang Qinglin took it, turning slightly to see a middle-aged man wearing glasses nodding at him. “Comrade, thank you for your help today. However, the temple’s restoration isn’t finished yet. Why have you come up the mountain?”

Cheng Che, also holding a towel, wiped his face. Seeing the man speaking to Zhang Qinglin, he walked over and said, “We’re here to find Director Fanny.”

The man asked, “What business do you have with him?”

“We have some personal matters to discuss. Could you please call him for us?” Zhang Qinglin replied after glancing around the main hall.

The man adjusted his glasses and fixed Zhang Qinglin with a wary gaze. A flicker of complexity crossed his expression before he asked, “What is your relationship to him?”

“Sir, just tell us who Director Fanny is,” Cheng Che said, impatience creasing his brow as he dried his hair.

His tone was sharp—perhaps the gloomy weather and damp clothes had frayed his nerves.

The man glanced sideways at Cheng Che. At that moment, a woman on the left, holding a book, waved and called out, “Old Fanny, come here a moment.”

The man pushed up his glasses and turned to walk in that direction.

Cheng Che froze instantly. “This is bad; things just got complicated.”

“Old Zhang, do you think he’ll get angry and ignore us?” Cheng Che asked, grabbing the towel around his neck.

Zhang Qinglin looked up, his messy hair falling over his forehead. He ran his hand through it. “He’s the director; he shouldn’t be so petty.”

Chi Tan crouched beside them, eavesdropping. “He doesn’t look like a director to me, more like a teacher…”

“Shoo, shoo! When adults are talking, children shouldn’t interrupt!” Cheng Che pushed Chi Tan away.

After a while, someone brought a large pot of ginger soup and placed it on a table to the right, inviting everyone to have a bowl to ward off the cold.