The bungalow courtyard that served as a makeshift gambling den had now become a temporary interrogation site.
Aside from the old woman, Dayan, and Tiger-head, even Old Qi and Black Charcoal—whom Ji Xun had knocked out earlier—had been retrieved from the dumpster, awoken, and dragged over.
Currently, five people stood in a row with their heads drooping, subtly trading glances right under the noses of Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin.
Even at a time like this, they still have the nerve to play games.
Ji Xun was in no hurry. He left them out in the cold for the moment and turned to enter the gambling den. A thorough search of the scene was his top priority.
After all, he and Huo Ranyin hadn’t come here for a routine public security raid to catch gamblers and seize illicit funds red-handed. What they wanted was to uncover that subtle, elusive clue within this den… a clue that might be connected to the Chen Jiashu case, though they didn’t yet know its exact nature.
This clue might lie with the proprietor of the den, or it might be hidden deep inside the premises. Of course, it was also possible that Ji Xun had taken a wrong turn, followed a false lead, and that there was absolutely nothing here.
Having already scanned the perimeter when he first climbed inside, Ji Xun didn’t waste any time. He headed straight for the green iron safe and began picking the lock.
While Ji Xun worked on the safe, Huo Ranyin took the opportunity to question the villagers about the owner of the house.
The group didn’t hold anything back. They cooperated fully, dumping information as quickly as an unknotted sack of rags.
“His name is Chen Youqiang, we call him Qiangzi. Qiangzi doesn’t usually live in the village; he bought a house and settled down in Ning City. He only comes back on weekends.”
“To run a gambling den?”
The group let out hollow, self-deprecating laughs.
“Did he set up this den on his own?” Huo Ranyin pressed.
“We don’t know. He mentioned some big boss before,” Tiger-head, who had been the most arrogant earlier, was now the most compliant, singing like a canary. “But whenever we asked a few more questions, he’d just laugh it off and change the subject. A lucrative setup like this, he definitely wouldn’t share the details with us.”
Huo Ranyin then questioned them about the foul odor.
The group looked utterly bewildered, unable to comprehend why the police were fixating on such a trivial matter. “The village isn’t exactly pristine. It could be the smell from the fish market… sometimes the stench blows in from the sea… honestly, it could come from anywhere.”
Wasting no more time, Huo Ranyin headed back inside.
The windows were left slightly ajar, meaning everything said in the courtyard could be heard inside the room. However, once Huo Ranyin stepped in, he pulled the window shut so the people outside wouldn’t overhear his conversation with Ji Xun.
Ji Xun let out a soft snort. “Revealing information about the gambling den so easily… this is one hundred percent not their Achilles’ heel.”
“We already guessed that much when we walked in.” Huo Ranyin leaned against the window frame, shifting his gaze to the work in Ji Xun’s hands. “Can you open it? If not, we can take it back to the station.”
The moment the words left his mouth, a sharp clack echoed.
The green iron safe swung open.
Ji Xun let out a sharp whistle. “Not that difficult after all.”
Huo Ranyin gave a half-smile. “You truly possess an extraordinary talent in this particular field.”
Ji Xun countered smoothly, “I possess extraordinary talent in a great many fields.”
He pulled the safe door wide, peered inside, and let out a soft, intrigued murmur. “A boat…?”
A boat.
The safe was divided into an upper and lower tier. The top held a boat, while the bottom held cash.
The boat was an exquisitely carved wooden vessel rigged with red sails. Written across the red sails in golden ink were eight characters: ‘Safe Voyage across the Seas, Calm Winds and Still Waves’ (舟航順濟風定波平).
Xie Lin’s relaxed expression instantly hardened into a grave solemnity.
“Do you remember these characters?”
“Don’t insult my memory with such an elementary question,” Ji Xun replied. “There was a boat inside the safe at Tang Jinglong’s house, and hanging from that boat was a string of ‘Gua Dou’ coins. Those exact eight characters were engraved on the front and back of the coins.”
“We traced Xu Xinran through Tang Jinglong’s lead,” Huo Ranyin noted.
“And Xu Xinran brought us to this entirely new gambling den—yet this new den is actually connected to Tang Jinglong. Or rather, this single wooden boat links Tang Jinglong, Xu Xinran, and this gambling den completely together,” Ji Xun supplemented, his gaze turning deeply pensive. “But what on earth does this boat, and this phrase heavily laced with religious undertones, actually signify?”
It was a question no one could answer without diving deeper and uncovering more evidence.
Ji Xun was at a loss. He had come here seeking clues for the Chen Jiashu case, only to unearth this instead… a faint, unsettling premonition crept into his heart. He felt as though transparent silken threads were materializing around him, weaving an intricate spiderweb that was slowly pinning him down as prey.
They had raided the den and cracked the safe, yet instead of achieving their goal, they had only pulled up an even larger knot of mysteries. This trip couldn’t help but feel somewhat futile, but such was the nature of investigative work—it was rarely smooth sailing.
The two prepared to leave the village.
Before departing, Huo Ranyin gave the four trailers and the elderly woman a stern lecture, warning them against actions that would cause the police to misunderstand them, and above all, to stop breaking the law.
Standing in a neat row, the five nodded continuously, not offering a single word of defiance, looking as meek as quails on a chopping block.
They watched as Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin got into their car, tracking the conspicuous vehicle until it drove completely out of the settlement…
Black Charcoal whispered, “Are they really gone?”
Dayan picked up her phone to call someone at the fish market. The market sat right at the entrance of the village; the people stationed there would have a clear view of whether the car had departed.
After a brief moment, she hung up and reported, “They’re really gone. Ah Ying saw it with her own eyes—the car has already headed into the mountains.”
Tiger-head let out a sigh of relief. “See, I told you! This is Qiangzi’s business, why should we stick our necks out for it? We’ll just give him a heads-up so he can watch out for the cops and lay low. As long as he doesn’t blab what he shouldn’t if he gets caught, we’re golden brothers!”
“Be that as it may,” Old Qi, who had remained quiet until now, spoke with lingering caution, “it still feels a bit strange. Did they just leave like that? They didn’t even care about the gambling den?”
“What’s the use of seizing an empty shell? They need to catch Qiangzi, and since Qiangzi isn’t here, what is there to bust?” Dayan snapped at her husband. “Alright, the cops are gone, we can relax. Let’s all head to my place for a drink. Old Qi, go buy a couple of side dishes to go with the liquor…”
As time ticked by, the brilliant daylight gradually began to dim.
The horizon first filled with mackerel scales of clouds, behind which the setting sun bled a deep, fiery red across the sky—like a majestic koi fish leaping from the ocean into the celestial sea, swimming freely through the waves of clouds.
Once this celestial koi fully submerged into the cloud cover, the curtain of night finally descended.
The village, which had carried a hint of clamor during the day, was now hushed under the magic of the night. Looking out across the vast, dark expanse, the few scattered lights glowing from the houses resembled stars that had tumbled from the sky; listening closely, the sound of the ocean breeze sweeping the waves against the shore fell like a Chopin symphony.
Amidst this symphony, a sudden discordance arose.
Two abrupt, dark silhouettes materialized by the edge of the beach. They appeared without warning, as if stepping out from the sea itself or rounding the cliff face out of thin air.
“Having explored this village, what was your deepest impression of it?”
“Their hostility toward outsiders?”
“That was certainly prominent, but no,” the first voice murmured. “The deepest impression this village left on me was that abandoned, uncompleted construction site right by the sea.”
“The construction site?” the second voice whispered.
This minor murmur of conversation between the two shadows was entirely drowned out by the roar of the wind and waves, mimicking the whispers of phantoms, until the moonlight pierced through the clouds to illuminate the beach—and them.
The faces of Ji Xun and Huo Ranyin were exposed in the darkness.
They were supposed to have left during the day, yet by nightfall, they had secretly doubled back to the village!
“Are you curious about what secret this village is hiding?” Ji Xun asked.
“Of course I am,” Huo Ranyin replied, arching an eyebrow. “But I’m even more curious about how you managed to crack the riddle—without questioning a single villager or launching a deep investigation.”
“Relying strictly on a tiny, insignificant bit of observation technique,” Ji Xun replied modestly. “Look, we’re here.”
The destination Ji Xun spoke of lay just ahead, not far from the beach—the very abandoned construction site he had mentioned.
This site was likely originally intended for beachfront villas, but for some unknown reason, work had stopped right after digging the ground and laying the foundations. Driving past it during the day, one could see half-finished steel rebars and concrete overrun by wild grass, faced by grains of yellow sand, leaving a bleak and desolate impression.
But those were daytime impressions.
Now that darkness had fallen, with no artificial lights around save for the hazy, ethereal glow of the stars and moon, the rugged, uneven terrain of the abandoned site resembled the fractured depths of an abyss.
They stepped inside the skeletal site.
Ji Xun pulled out his phone, switched on the flashlight, and angled the beam downward to ensure it wouldn’t alert the village behind them before looking at where the light landed.
It was a yellow crane sitting inside the abandoned site.
“What’s wrong with this crane?” Huo Ranyin asked, as if talking to himself or prompting Ji Xun.
The two drew closer, the beam of light dancing across the crane’s treads, chassis, and boom according to Ji Xun’s whim.
Huo Ranyin observed it for a moment, his brow suddenly furrowing. “This crane… carries signs of recent use.”
On a construction site that had been abandoned for ages sat a crane with clear signs of operation.
“Sand,” Ji Xun noted, casting the light onto the crane’s caterpillar tracks first. It was strikingly evident that the gaps in the tracks were tightly packed with fresh sand.
“Corrosion,” Ji Xun added, shifting the light to the crane’s side panels. Right above the wheels and beneath the cabin, distinct brownish rust stains and pitted black holes were visible—the textbook result of saltwater corrosion.
“Engine oil,” Ji Xun finished, highlighting the fuel tank area, which was smudged with slick, black oil stains.
No further details were needed.
“A crane that travels back and forth between an abandoned site and the shoreline. The site hasn’t seen construction in ages, yet the crane is clearly being used frequently—frequently enough to be splattered by seawater to the point of rusting. Add to that the bizarre attitude of the villagers, and the fact that we didn’t spot a single streetlamp or surveillance camera along the coast on our way here…”
Ji Xun snapped his fingers.
“Does the answer even require further debate? Smuggling—it’s as simple as that.”
The ocean breeze caught his hair, making the smile hovering at the corner of his lips look like the flashing magic of starlight in the night.
Huo Ranyin stared at Ji Xun’s face, his gaze lingering for a long time. The furrow in his brow gradually smoothed out, while the depths of his calm pupils rippled with an undercurrent, mirroring the waves crashing ahead.
It was an expression of anticipation for the truth, and a quiet reverence for intellect.
“Alright,” Ji Xun said, letting out a small sneeze after laying out the puzzle. He tucked his chin in and pulled up his collar; the seaside in March and April was still quite chilly. “The smuggling in this village is a solid fact. We’ll pass the coordinates over to the coast guard and let them arrange the manpower to stake it out. It’s much better than the two of us working single-handedly… Now we can truly head back and continue investigating Chen Jiashu’s case…”
“No rush,” Huo Ranyin suddenly intervened.
“Hmm?” Ji Xun blinked. “Is there still something left undone?”
“When a pack of thieves narrowly manages to hide their den right under a patrol officer’s nose, what is their immediate reaction afterward?” Huo Ranyin asked.
“Relief, of course, and then—” Ji Xun caught on, a sharp grin cutting across his face. “Ha! It’s highly likely someone will come down to inspect this critical smuggling point tonight just to put their mind at ease!”
“Since we’re already here, there’s no harm in waiting a bit longer,” Huo Ranyin noted. “Who knows, we might get an unexpected harvest.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
The moment the words left Ji Xun’s mouth, Huo Ranyin wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him down as they dropped into an excavation trench in the foundation nearby.
Their vision instantly plunged into darkness. It felt as though they had dropped into a black box in a single split second.
Then, Ji Xun felt Huo Ranyin’s chest—the man’s warm torso perfectly shielded him from the freezing night wind. Amidst this radiating warmth, he could hear the rhythmic thump-thump of heartbeats. There was his own, and there was Huo Ranyin’s; the two cardiac rhythms amplified within the cramped space, leaping into rising and falling curves, chasing each other.
It was a perfectly secure, cloaked vantage point to lie in wait.
Huo Ranyin’s past experiences had undeniably left profound marks on him. He possessed an innate understanding of human nature, capable of lurking and enduring like a wild lynx blending into the dark—motionless until the perfect moment, striking with absolute lethality.
Roughly twenty to thirty minutes passed when Huo Ranyin’s ears suddenly twitched. A moment later, Ji Xun caught it too—the sound of human voices, carried over by the ocean breeze.
Huo Ranyin had guessed right; someone was actually coming!
“The two cops left…”
“I recognize them! …They’re the ones who caused all of this!”
Ji Xun found one of the voices remarkably familiar. He straightened his torso, peering outward alongside Huo Ranyin.
Two dark shadows were approaching from the distance.
Once the shadows drew close enough, under the brilliant illumination of the moonlight, the two men froze in absolute astonishment.
One of the figures possessed dyed yellow hair and a massive mole on his face—it was none other than Chen Jiahe, the suspect they had been tracking all this time!
