The phone suddenly vibrated.
Huo Ranyin’s body stiffened slightly. His gaze locked onto the screen, watching a familiar name manifest upon it.
Ji Xun was calling.
His finger rested right beside the answer button. With a microscopic, imperceptible movement, he could connect the call. He had absolutely no logical reason to refuse it, either.
He was simply afraid that the moment the line connected, habit would take over, and he would instinctively seek answers from Ji Xun.
He constantly projected an aura of suspicion toward Ji Xun when they were together. Yet in the dead of night, when he woke from his dreams, his mind never recalled that dark, night-like suspicion. Instead, it clung to a single pinpoint of light—the lamp that represented the trust and safety of home.
Ji Xun possessed the power to persuade him.
That was a deeply blissful realization.
It was also an incredibly dangerous one.
Huo Ranyin set the phone down and walked to the window. Turning his back to the room, he stared outside, allowing his mind to settle into the stillness of the night… He waited until the buzzing behind him gradually grew faint and finally died away before returning to his desk. Glancing at the screen, he saw that Ji Xun hadn’t called back, but he had left a text message.
Huo Ranyin skimmed through it rapidly.
The text detailed matters regarding the Huo family—specifically, his mother’s older sister, Huo Qiying.
He had never met this aunt, but the bizarre, shivering dread Ji Xun had felt when confronting Zhang Chunhua and her daughter, “Yingying,” seemed to bleed through the characters, transmitting itself directly into Huo Ranyin’s heart.
He tapped his knuckles lightly against the desktop. Amidst the chaotic, free-floating thoughts that threatened to cloud his judgment, Huo Ranyin picked up his phone.
He dialed Yu Cisheng.
This call did not suffer the same fate as the last. It rang through and was answered immediately. Yu Cisheng’s voice floated over the line: “A rare guest.”
“What’s the progress?” Huo Ranyin asked bluntly.
“I have a lead.”
Both men stripped away the meaningless pleasantries and small talk, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. Yet the same bluntness carried entirely different undercurrents depending on the speaker.
Huo Ranyin’s directness often came across as overly aggressive, leaving people wondering if he secretly disdained them too much to bother with civilities. Yu Cisheng, however—perhaps due to his striking appearance or his measured, gentle cadence—always maintained an aura of warmth and approachability. Even when he spoke with absolute directness, it never registered as rude; instead, it induced a subtle, internalized sense of guilt in the listener:
He must be rushing strictly on my account. It’s because of me; it’s my fault.
“Let’s start with Boss Chen’s vessels,” Yu Cisheng began, showing no haste to bring up Ji Xun. The favor Huo Ranyin had asked of him extended beyond Ji Xun’s affairs alone. The “Boss Chen” he referred to was, without a doubt, Chen Jashu. “Every time Boss Chen’s smuggling ships cross the national border, they make one or two brief layovers at sea. During these stops, he frequently interfaces with a businessman surnamed Li…”
Huo Ranyin listened intently.
The reason he had entrusted Yu Cisheng with investigating Chen Jashu was because the smuggling routes crossed into Southeast Asia. Southeast Asia was where Yu Cisheng spent the majority of his time abroad, and it was precisely where Yu Cisheng had saved his life years ago.
In the grand scheme of things, fate always ran in tight circles.
“Surnamed Li?” Huo Ranyin asked. “What is his full name? What kind of business does he run?”
“Li Xingxing. He deals in pharmaceuticals. Though the name is highly likely a pseudonym.”
Pharmaceuticals, Huo Ranyin noted internally. He recalled the only piece of information Chen Jiahe had readily confessed to: My brother is smuggling pharmaceuticals.
“This Mr. Li maintains an exceptionally vast social circle,” Yu Cisheng continued. He was a meticulous man; since he believed ‘Li Xingxing’ to be fake, he consistently referred to him as the businessman surnamed Li. “When a man associates with so many circles, certain whispers inevitably begin to leak out…”
“What whispers?”
“A ship.”
“A ship?” Huo Ranyin murmured to himself.
“A highly miraculous ship. A ship that possesses endless oceans of wealth, a collection of breathtaking beauties, and a sea of starry opportunities. It is a treasure ship. It remains anchored deep within the boundless ocean; only those touched by fate may walk its decks. Only those with the right destiny can obtain the bountiful treasures within her hull—treasures that rival the abyss of the deep sea. And only those with the right destiny can obtain something utterly precious, something that cannot be acquired anywhere else on Earth.”
“What thing?” Huo Ranyin pressed immediately.
“Life.”
“…”
“The ship can extend your life,” Yu Cisheng chuckled softly. “A ship of mystery, a ship of abundance, a ship of life.”
Chen Jashu smuggled pharmaceuticals; Li Xingxing dealt in pharmaceuticals. Their contact was logical.
Li Xingxing dropped mentions of a ship during his social interactions…
Chen Jashu had recently undergone a kidney transplant…
Huo Ranyin’s thoughts branched out for a split second before snapping tightly back to attention. He asserted firmly, “When did you first hear about this ship? It certainly wasn’t after I asked you to look into Chen Jashu’s overseas dealings.”
“A businessman intercepts a great deal of information.”
“A businessman?” Huo Ranyin countered. “You look much more like an academic.”
“An academic wouldn’t make any money,” Yu Cisheng replied smoothly. “Money is a wonderful thing.”
“Money is indeed a wonderful thing. So is life,” Huo Ranyin said. “So, did you board that ship?”
“Is this a case of burning the bridge after crossing it? We haven’t even fully waded across the river yet, and you are already suspecting that the wooden planks beneath your feet are full of holes and traps?”
“My apologies.”
“That didn’t sound particularly sincere.”
“I do have many flaws,” Huo Ranyin admitted. “Paranoia happens to be one of them.”
“That particular trait can indeed be rather difficult to tolerate, but everyone has their little quirks,” Yu Cisheng said. “What you want to know, I can tell you—to you.”
Huo Ranyin instantly understood the subtext:
Yu Cisheng could disclose the details to “Huo Ranyin,” but he could not provide them to “Captain Huo.”
Did this imply that beyond mere hearsay, Yu Cisheng held solid, actionable leads regarding the “ship”—evidence substantial enough for the police to trace the entire network?
“The police can protect their witnesses,” Huo Ranyin stated immediately.
“There are things I keep to myself, and it isn’t because I fear danger,” Yu Cisheng laughed.
“Then why?”
“A businessman who gets too cozy with the police will find it very difficult to conduct business.”
“Only criminals worry about the police,” Huo Ranyin said, each word sharp and distinct.
“Fair enough, I can cooperate with the police,” Yu Cisheng did not push back further, offering only a counter-question. “But if I give the police what they want, what can the police give me in return?”
“No profit, no entry?” Huo Ranyin mocked.
“Merely the fundamental literacy of an excellent businessman. A transaction requires both a buyer and a seller; that is how business works.” Yu Cisheng added, “As for whether I ever boarded that ship, you can rest easy.”
“Is that so?” Huo Ranyin whispered.
“You assume that because I have albinism and face the perpetual risk of organ failure, I would easily be tempted upon hearing such news? That regardless of whether I currently require a transplant, I would want to board the ship to see for myself?”
Organ transplantation. Huo Ranyin extracted the critical node from Yu Cisheng’s words. The so-called “extension of life” on the ship meant organ transplantation—which was precisely Chen Jashu’s crime.
“It’s a very straightforward deduction,” Huo Ranyin answered.
Yu Cisheng’s exterior was pristine, utterly devoid of color. But was the man’s heart as unblemished as his appearance?
Huo Ranyin had never believed so. It wasn’t because of today’s conversation; he had harbored this suspicion since the very day Yu Cisheng saved his life. Could a truly pure, blameless individual pull off a rescue right from under the noses of ruthless drug traffickers?
Yet over the years, throughout all their interactions, let alone concrete proof, he hadn’t found even a shred of suspicious circumstantial evidence. Coupled with the fact that Yu Cisheng spent very little time domestically, the suspicion had gradually faded over time.
Perhaps, just as Yu Cisheng presented himself, he was simply a “businessman.” A businessman who operated with his own shade-of-gray moral code.
He had once asked Yu Cisheng why he chose to save him. Back then, Yu Cisheng had pondered for a moment before replying, “Perform one good deed a day.”
“Perform one good deed a day, and make more friends.” The albino man had smiled faintly. Behind him, the magnificent, golden statue of Ganesha—representing wisdom and wealth—seemed to curve its trunk and flash its tusks in a mirroring smile. “Society is a network composed of human beings. Meaning, as long as you have enough friends at the right nodes, society becomes an open highway for you. Every place you visit, every person you meet, and every event you encounter will treat you with an extra measure of friendliness and warmth. I like a beautiful world like that, and I am working hard to step into it.”
“A deduction is not the truth.”
Yu Cisheng’s voice pulled Huo Ranyin back to reality.
“Albinism indeed brings various complications. The organs in my body are certainly threatened by disease. But I prefer cleaner alternatives.”
“Cleaner?”
“Artificial organs, for instance.”
“That sounds like something out of a science fiction story.”
“To the ancients, airplanes were science fiction, trains were science fiction, and even cameras were thought to be mirrors that captured souls. As time marches on, the things of science fiction inevitably manifest into the reality of our world. Because it was always the desire of mankind. And to realize mankind’s desire, it only takes a small, ordinary push.”
“Like money?” Huo Ranyin remarked.
“Is it not?” Yu Cisheng countered. “Is money not the universal equivalent, integrating both the necessities of human life and the absolute heights of human dreams?”
“I can’t outtalk you,” Huo Ranyin massaged his temples. “I should have Ji Xun here to talk nonsense with you instead.”
“I highly look forward to sitting down and having a chat with him,” Yu Cisheng said pleasantly.
“So,” Huo Ranyin paused, “what about him?”
In his previous request to Yu Cisheng, alongside Chen Jashu’s affairs, lay the most vital objective: intelligence on Ji Xun.
“Speaking of which, I hired local private investigators to shadow your boyfriend. As a side note,” Yu Cisheng remarked, “in this country, operations like private investigators are illegal, aren’t they?”
“…”
“Furthermore, your boyfriend is ‘highly alert and possesses incredibly formidable counter-surveillance skills; this job is impossible.’ That is what the investigator I hired told me,” Yu Cisheng relayed.
“So they lost him?” Huo Ranyin felt a faint urge to smile.
“They kept up,” Yu Cisheng countered. “That phrase is simply jargon used to ask for a premium. If one person can’t keep up, five will. If five can’t do it, ten people can form a complete perimeter. The expense simply exceeded my initial budget, that’s all.”
“You sound rather amused by it.”
“It’s a little surprise in life,” Yu Cisheng laughed. “Therefore, I won’t be asking you to reimburse the extra costs.”
Following that, Yu Cisheng relayed the various pieces of intelligence he had gathered regarding Ji Xun—specifically, the locations Ji Xun had visited.
Huo Ranyin listened in absolute silence. The vast majority of the information, especially the details concerning Huo Qiying, aligned perfectly with the text message Ji Xun had sent him moments ago.
Except for one detail.
Before heading to Fu Province, Ji Xun had first gone to the village hidden behind Juan Mountain.
That village again.
Ji Xun had gone to that village alone and even paid a visit to the local waste management station. What exactly had he been doing there?
“In any case,” Yu Cisheng concluded, “I’ve told you all the news. Did you get what you wanted?”
“Thank you.” Huo Ranyin deflected the question, offering only his gratitude.
“I hope what I brought you is good news,” Yu Cisheng sighed with philosophical weight. “Many things we take for granted and keep on the tips of our tongues—like love, happiness, or even trust—we assume they are littered across the streets, easily found everywhere. In reality, they are the absolute luxury goods of human existence. Unfortunately, too many people live their lives in a complete haze, utterly lacking the capacity to appreciate or distinguish the genuine article. They buy cheap, counterfeit imitations off the streets, boasting and showing them off to everyone. Then, the day they discover the truth, it hits them like a bolt from the blue, and they turn around to blame love, happiness, and trust itself.”
“…Indeed,” Huo Ranyin smiled faintly. “This luxury item is something I have carried with me for a very long time, and it remains as pristine as the day I got it.”
That wasn’t a lie. Deep within his heart, there would always be a sanctuary that believed in Ji Xun. Always.
They exchanged a few brief words before Huo Ranyin hung up the phone.
Afterward, he sat at his desk, immersed in deep thought for a long time as his deductions gradually fell into a precise sequence.
He had discovered a missing persons victim hidden inside the adult films on Chen Jiahe’s phone. In his previous cases, the only link connecting back to adult film production was Chen Jianying—the photographer who used Fuxing Education as a front to lure underage girls into cosplay and private modeling sessions.
Meanwhile, Sun Fujing, who held actual control over Fuxing Education, had maintained a devout habit of worshipping Mazu for decades. When he and Ji Xun captured Sun Fujing, they had deduced that there was a shadow figure pulling the strings from behind. However, because Sun Fujing kept his mouth shut, that “mastermind” remained a baseless theory, yielding no further leads.
And most critically of all:
If he completely extracted Ji Xun from the equation and looked strictly at the “clues” like the gambling den and the abandoned surgical factory, it proved beyond a doubt that a hidden hand had been meticulously orchestrating the case against Chen Jashu for kidnapping and organ trafficking. If that was true, were those eyes lurking in the dark constantly monitoring the police’s investigative movements?
Trace it backwards, Huo Ranyin thought. Start the investigation anew, beginning with Chen Jianying and Sun Fujing.
But this branch of the investigation had to remain strictly confidential. It had to be kept hidden from many people—including Ji Xun.
Deep within his heart, there would always be a sanctuary that trusted Ji Xun completely. Yet, there would always exist another domain—one that suspected Ji Xun, and suspected everything else in the world.
