“Is your body holding up?”
“Quite well.”
“And here?” Mr. Liu pointed to the region where the kidney was transplanted.
“Also good.” Chen Jiashu replied, bowing slightly to Mr. Liu. “I appreciate your concern.”
“Every investment has its value.” Mr. Liu smiled faintly. “I don’t want you to feel indebted to me. Compared to personal favors, I’d rather discuss business with you.”
Chen Jiashu’s expression shifted to one of genuine interest.
Just as Mr. Liu was about to open his mouth, a piercing, raucous noise erupted behind them.
The tall man was walking down from the black dais with the beauty at his side, triggering a roar of cheers for the hero. He was the hero; he was the star. All the lights were focused on him. As he walked through the aisle, the masked bosses around him squeezed and shoved in a feverish frenzy, leaning in and reaching out, eager to shake his hand as if hoping to be kissed by the Goddess of Fortune.
The revelry continued.
The champagne tower was dismantled in an instant. Red wine, whiskey, and all manner of spirits were uncorked, the liquid spraying into the air, venting a kind of bestial joy that they hadn’t yet exhausted.
Some even rushed onto the black dais.
They reached out to touch the blood of the dead woman. They smeared it wantonly, laughing hysterically.
The only thing out of place in this heated atmosphere was the woman in the tall man’s arms. That woman, dressed in luxury, was like an exquisite marionette, led here and there by her master to be showcased.
Mr. Liu cut his words short. “It’s too late today. Please let the host provide a proper welcome for his new guests; we shall talk of other things later.” He summoned a waiter. “Take Mr. Chen and his friend to the guest rooms to rest.”
“Certainly, sir.”
“Of course,” Mr. Liu added, “if you wish to try your luck, feel free to enter. Tonight, if you win, it’s yours; if you lose, I cover it. However, the most spectacular part of the evening has already ended; the rest might lack a bit of flavor.”
The frozen body began to thaw.
Since Mr. Liu had approached, Meng Fushan, who had stood still as an ice sculpture beside Chen Jiashu, was finally able to control his eyeballs and cast a glance toward Chen Jiashu’s face.
He clearly saw Chen Jiashu’s nostrils flare slightly, a sign of inner movement.
But Chen Jiashu was not like his reckless younger brother, Chen Jiahe; he was a cautious man. He looked at the gambling den—a scene of debauched drinking and demons dancing—and eventually shook his head. “I’m tired today; I’ll go upstairs to rest first.”
Mr. Liu didn’t urge him to stay, merely watching them go with a smile.
Meng Fushan followed Chen Jiashu, led by the waiter onto a sightseeing glass elevator.
As he entered the elevator, he saw the panel displaying the numbers 1-3. This was a giant cruise ship with at least three levels. Standing in the transparent elevator, he could see the brilliant lights, the crowded people, the chaotic gambling tables, and… lingering at the periphery of the casino, the shadow of Mr. Liu.
That dim, sunset-colored shadow carrying the scent of death first remained on Meng Fushan’s retina, then entered his brain, where it joined the recurring gunshot and the bursting flowers of blood to compose the nightmare Meng Fushan would have that night.
At the end of the nightmare, he saw that woman…
The dead woman.
He couldn’t tell if she was approaching him or if he was walking toward her, but the woman, previously far away, was now before him, within arm’s reach, then face-to-face.
The silk ribbon wrapped around her eyes was scorched by fire, destroyed.
As the ashes crumbled from her face, he finally saw her eyes—a pair of vengeful, malicious eyes.
The eyes were saying:
Save me… why didn’t you save me…
Meng Fushan bolted awake from the dream.
He clawed frantically at his chest until his hand caught the small metal boy charm hanging around his neck. Only then, like grabbing an anchor point in a storm-tossed drift, did he calm down.
He sat up on the bed and looked at his watch.
Five in the morning.
He reached out to pull back the curtains.
The cruise ship was massive, with plenty of room for room planning. Yesterday, when the waiter led them up, Chen Jiashu had been given a suite with a panoramic balcony and a double whirlpool tub. His and A-Bin’s room wasn’t bad either—about 20 square meters with a window. Pulling back the curtains revealed the scenery at sea.
Dawn breaks earlier at sea than on land.
The dark haze he had seen upon boarding last night had dispersed significantly under the auspicious light in the eastern sky. As far as the eye could see, there was an endless expanse of dark blue ocean and light gray clouds churning above.
The sun hadn’t fully risen yet.
But the sun would rise eventually.
Meng Fushan thought silently. He didn’t linger in the room too long. After washing up, he headed out, taking the elevator back to the first floor—where they had entered yesterday.
Five in the morning is a very interesting time.
Those who stay up late are already asleep; those who wake up early haven’t stirred yet.
Meng Fushan wanted to take action with as little notice as possible—for instance, in the name of Chen Jiashu, asking the waiters in the casino about the black dais and the women here, and what exactly was going on.
But his plan failed. When he reached the first floor, he didn’t just see the waiters on duty in the casino; he saw many gamblers.
These gamblers were disheveled, their clothes stained with liquor and food residue. Their eyes were bloodshot, and even the half-masks on their faces couldn’t hide the decadence and trance-like state they were in. They were pushing the people they brought—or even themselves—waving checkbooks at Meng Fushan.
They had only one goal:
“Trading chips? Ten million for one.”
Meng Fushan wasn’t the first person they had shoved a checkbook under the nose of. Before him was someone else whose back was very familiar—A-Bin.
When Meng Fushan saw A-Bin, A-Bin saw him as well.
The two made eye contact.
Meng Fushan’s heart sank slightly, but he didn’t stop, walking past the shouting, trading gambling addicts and directly to A-Bin’s side. “Did Big Brother send you down?”
“Yes,” A-Bin replied.
“What does Big Brother want to know?” He tried to keep his tone light and natural.
“The black dais and the chips,” A-Bin said concisely.
This bodyguard, who usually followed Chen Jiashu in silence, seemed to have just arrived as well. He was now eyeing a waiter in a black tuxedo, waiting for an answer.
Meng Fushan noticed that the waiter standing here today wasn’t anyone he had seen yesterday.
But they all wore the same manufactured smile.
Polite, yet devoid of life.
“Good morning, sir. There is only one type of chip used here. The lady entrusted to you by your boss yesterday. One lady is worth 1,000 chips.”
Meng Fushan finally understood where the ten-million price tag came from.
“There are many tables here,” the waiter continued. “The minimum and maximum stakes vary by table—the lowest is 0.1 chips, the highest is 100. No matter how much the boss loses, as long as he stays within the 1,000-chip threshold, the lady by his side will faithfully accompany him. However, if the boss loses that final 0.1 chip, that lady will have to leave the boss’s side. Conversely, if the boss is lucky and wins 1,000 chips or more, for every new thousand he gains, he will have the right to a new lady.”
Hearing this, Meng Fushan asked: “Can I buy chips with money?”
The waiter replied: “No. Mr. Liu wants every guest on board to enjoy greater pleasure for free.”
Of course, the things that are “free” are the most expensive.
Since official trading wasn’t allowed, private transfers were naturally rampant—like the gamblers still lingering in the shadows with checkbooks, looking for opportunities.
“What about the black dais?” Unlike Meng Fushan, who had so many questions, A-Bin only urged the waiter to explain the information he wanted.
“The black dais is our highest-specification table.” When the waiter said this, he puffed out his chest, revealing a hint of reverence. “Every night, we open only one black dais. The minimum stake is 1,000. Only when you possess her—the lady—in full can you bring her onto the black dais. The rules of the black dais differ from other tables; once you sit down, you may not leave until one side has cleared their chips. Clearing the chips means you will lose her forever…”
In the waiter’s meaningful pause, everyone present remembered the scene from yesterday.
Blinding red permeated the tabletop, rising from beneath, wafting into the clinking wine glasses of the bosses.
The rules weren’t complicated.
After clarifying the rules, the two ignored the surrounding gamblers seeking trades and took the sightseeing elevator upstairs.
Sitting in the elevator again, Meng Fushan finally understood the secret of how Mr. Liu kept these bosses tethered for so long.
Organs.
Gambling.
Women.
Killing.
Except for the initial organs, the other three had been fully displayed before his eyes yesterday.
Escaping this tether was simple enough—just don’t gamble.
Could they choose not to gamble?
Certainly.
Meng Fushan thought about how yesterday, when Chen Jiashu didn’t want to gamble, Mr. Liu didn’t even try to persuade him.
But everyone—the vast majority—would eventually gamble.
Those who came here were people who knew exactly what they were doing: preying on the organs of others.
Once they arrived, they were immersed in this noisy, spacious environment, accompanied by beauties, hidden behind red velvet curtains that obscured all windows—regardless of whether it was day or night, windy or raining, nothing could be seen from within.
All the bosses could see were women, chips, intense gambling matches, and blood-curdling executions.
Gambling, women, killing.
As long as you stayed here.
Nobody could escape.
By the time Meng Fushan and A-Bin entered Chen Jiashu’s suite, Chen Jiashu was already up, wearing a hotel bathrobe, sitting on the balcony.
Meng Fushan noticed that the woman sent to Chen Jiashu yesterday, Chen-Chen, was there too.
She sat inside the room, with the glass balcony door behind her and the double whirlpool tub in front. She had changed out of the ornate, unrecognizable dress from yesterday and was wearing a loose white cotton dress. She dipped her hands into the water-filled tub, her slender, pale fingers stirring ripples—she looked just like an ordinary girl playing with water next door.
If only she hadn’t appeared here.
If only her eyes hadn’t been blindfolded.
Behind that thin silk ribbon, what was hidden? Were they a pair of hateful, malicious eyes like the ones in his nightmare?
For a moment, Meng Fushan felt an urge to rip that ribbon off.
Impulse only ruins things.
Meng Fushan looked straight ahead, walking past Chen-Chen and onto the balcony to stand beside Chen Jiashu.
Chen Jiashu retracted his gaze from the distance. “Have you had breakfast?”
“No.”
“Sit down and join me.”
The table on the balcony was already set with various delicacies. Though not as plentiful as last night’s buffet, they were far more refined.
Chen Jiashu moved his chopsticks slightly, not seeming to have much of an appetite. He pressed a napkin to the corner of his mouth and asked Meng Fushan: “Where did you run into A-Bin?”
“Downstairs.”
“Did you hear the explanation about the black dais and the chips?”
“Yes.” Meng Fushan relayed the waiter’s response accurately. It was true that there was an element of coincidence that led to him, rather than A-Bin, relaying this to Chen Jiashu. But more importantly—A-Bin was Chen Jiashu’s shield, and shields do not need autonomous thought. Chen Jiashu, however, now needed a brain with autonomous thought to analyze problems for him.
Sure enough, after listening, Chen Jiashu opened his mouth to ask:
“Mr. Liu said yesterday he had business to do with me. What do you think?”
All communication devices were confiscated.
Only A-Bin and I are by Chen Jiashu’s side.
He trusts A-Bin absolutely, but A-Bin won’t offer opinions. Therefore, my opinion is a reference to him—the only reference. Meng Fushan deliberated.
“Mr. Liu wants to gain a foothold in Ning City,” Meng Fushan said.
“Mr. Liu already has power in Ning City,” Chen Jiashu countered.
“He did before, but probably not now.”
Chen Jiashu’s gaze locked onto Meng Fushan’s face.
“Police,” Meng Fushan said.
“Right, police… our Mr. Liu is having a little trouble in Ning City. His forces there are being monitored by the police or have already been gutted. Regardless of which it is, he needs to cooperate with me to rebuild the underground bridge to Ning City.” Chen Jiashu tapped his fingers on the table. “Times have changed; even legendary figures at home and abroad have to be cautious.”
In the dark world, Mr. Liu was certainly worthy of the title “legendary figure at home and abroad.”
Meng Fushan was silent for a moment before saying: “Perhaps not just Ning City…”
He thought of Qin City.
Chen Jiashu had sent him to Qin City to kidnap Fu Baoxin to test him. He had put effort into researching Fu Baoxin and knew she had an elder sister, Fu Baoling, who had gone missing years ago.
Judging by the traces, Fu Baoling’s disappearance was Mr. Liu’s handiwork, and now Fu Baoling’s kidney was in Chen Jiashu’s belly.
Ji Xun had come into contact with Fu Baoxin. Would Ji Xun discover the suspicious points in her home?
Ji Xun would.
Because he was Ji Xun.
Connecting this to the port explosion case in Qin City that made the news… perhaps… it was very likely… Mr. Liu had already been tailed by the police, and the police were searching for this giant ship of his in the dark with a searchlight.
This giant cruise ship, sailing on the ocean like a palace, was not as indestructible as it seemed.
Chen Jiashu frowned slightly at first, then gave a mocking laugh: “Unlikely. If it really came to that, could Mr. Liu still be throwing parties as usual? Would he still be in the mood to watch the casino?”
Meng Fushan glanced at Chen Jiashu and said nothing.
Chen Jiashu was cautious, but also arrogant. His words were a reference, but not a mandatory one. Saying too much or being too proactive would only arouse Chen Jiashu’s suspicion.
Their conversation ended, and since he had finished his breakfast, he put down his utensils, stood up, and bid Chen Jiashu farewell.
Chen Jiashu didn’t urge him to stay.
As Meng Fushan left, he took a look toward the tub. Chen-Chen was gone; only a tub of stagnant water remained, motionless.
He left the room and stood in the corridor.
There was no one in the corridor; only the paintings and animal heads on the walls followed him with stiff, hollow eyes, watching him.
He replayed his conversation with Chen Jiashu in his mind.
My guess must be right.
As long as Ji Xun is there, he won’t let the criminal get away so easily.
But it doesn’t make sense…
Since Mr. Liu is already being watched, why doesn’t he lie low for a while? Why initiate contact with Chen Jiashu and seek cooperation?
Business deals are all for money.
Is Mr. Liu short on money?
No, he isn’t.
He doesn’t lack money, nor does he lack power.
He is the uncrowned king of this ship. Everyone who boards is under his control. That hall with the small entrance and wide belly is like a pouch. Mr. Liu, standing at the entrance, that dim shadow, is the drawstring of this pouch…
Pull the string tight, and they die; loosen the string, and they go mad…
A flash of inspiration shot through the back of Meng Fushan’s head like an electric current!
Being tailed by the police, any normal person with normal logic would choose to lie low.
Of course, Mr. Liu had normal logic.
Then the reason he was so desperate to cooperate with Chen Jiashu was likely—
To divert the disaster and escape like a cicada shedding its skin!
He wanted his influence rooted in Ning City, and Chen Jiashu, who also dabbled in smuggling, would be his scapegoat!
