Hibiskus als Gemälde

Kapitel 90

"..." There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, then the director cautiously asked, "Is the 'Ghost Pot' really the 'ancient Xun' that Ji Xiaolan mentioned?"

“No, it is the head of Feng Hou,” Master Jia replied.

"A head?" The director seemed quite surprised.

"Indeed, Feng Hou was the progenitor of the 'Zhuyou Technique' in the Central Plains. My master once said that there was a long-lost 'Zhuyou Bone Shrinking Technique'. Ancient Zhuyou shamans would use this technique to shrink their skulls and lock their six souls before their death, which was extremely miraculous. Ji Xiaolan recorded in his 'Notes from the Thatched Cottage of Close Observation' that the 'Ghost Pot' that could produce six sounds was buried with Feng Hou in his tomb. Later generations thought it was an 'ancient Xun', but they were all wrong. The 'Ghost Pot' was Feng Hou shrinking his own head. It had six holes, but it was somewhat similar to an ancient Xun."

"I see..." the director said thoughtfully, "Are you currently in Sanmenxia, Henan?"

“Yes, I am preparing to go to the capital. However, Director, as we agreed last time, once the ‘Ghost Pot’ is handed over to you, I will retire and the organization should never look for me again,” Master Jia said solemnly.

"Of course, but you shouldn't go to the capital for now. The capital is a mixed bag, and to avoid any leaks, just stay in Sanmenxia and wait for orders. I will send someone to retrieve it immediately. Where are you staying in Sanmenxia right now?" the director asked.

"Yuxi Inn," Master Jia said, revealing the name of the small inn.

"Just wait there, understand?" the director instructed.

"I understand," Master Jia replied.

With a click, the call ended on the other end.

Master Jia let out a long sigh of relief, returned to the dining table, and smiled slightly at Nizi, saying, "Nizi, we don't need to go to the capital."

"Then can I go find my mother?" Nizi asked happily.

Master Jia poured himself a full cup of wine, drank it in one gulp, and replied, "Alright, we'll head south in a couple of days."

At this moment, he was unaware that Song Diweng, Hakka Granny, and others, led by Shen Caihua, were tracking him all the way. At dusk, in a quiet corner by the window of the "Xiao Fengxian Restaurant" in Shitou Hutong, one of the eight major hutongs in front of Qianmen in Beijing, sat the leader and the white-haired but youthful-looking Master Qiao. On the table were the same three dishes as always: fried dough sticks, stinky tofu hot pot, and Erguotou liquor.

Outside the window, Lou Yi stood in the shadow of the lamppost, his wary eyes watching the hurried passersby.

"How about it, Lou Yi is quite competent, isn't he?" Old Master Qiao said, chewing on stinky tofu, his nose twitching occasionally as he inhaled the faint, exotic aroma.

"This kid is good. He's efficient and decisive, and he keeps his mouth shut," the leader said approvingly.

"Sir, you're in such a hurry to call me here tonight, is there something important?" Old Master Qiao asked directly.

"Oh..." the leader hesitated and said, "There's a troublesome matter in the martial arts world that needs to be dealt with, but I don't want to use my own people. Does Master Qiao have any reliable apprentices like Lou Yi? I'd like to borrow a couple."

"Is it still that Burmese assassin we talked about last time?" Old Master Qiao asked the chief.

"No, there's something else," the leader replied.

Mr. Qiao took a sip of Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) and asked softly, "Is the matter very troublesome?"

"It's not too difficult. I already have two people there, but I'm afraid they might not be able to handle it, so I'd like to have another expert keeping an eye on things from the shadows, just in case. These days, it's always good to be cautious." The leader also picked up a piece of fried dough sticks and ate as he spoke.

"How many people are on the other side?" Master Qiao asked.

“One,” the commander replied.

"Hmm... In that case, this person's martial arts skills are quite formidable," said Master Qiao.

"Yes, this person's 'innate qigong' has reached a state of perfection." The leader's expression was very solemn.

"The Quanzhen School's 'Innate Qi Gong'?" Master Qiao asked in surprise.

"Exactly." The leader nodded.

"Well, I've long heard that the Quanzhen School's 'Primordial Qi Gong' is the pinnacle of Taoism in the Central Plains, but I, Master Qiao, have never had the chance to see it, which is a lifelong regret..." Master Qiao slurped down the Erguotou in his cup, then put down the cup and asked, "Chief, do you trust me, Master Qiao?"

The leader paused for a moment, then said, "Of course."

"Then let me go. If I can witness the world's number one Taoist Qigong, I will have no regrets in this life," Mr. Qiao said with bright eyes.

The leader, beaming with delight, reached out and gently patted the back of Mr. Qiao's hand, chuckling, "Mr. Qiao's qigong is unparalleled in the world. With you by my side, what do I have to worry about?"

"What, is the commander going to personally take charge?" Old Master Qiao asked in surprise.

The leader nodded, smiling but saying nothing.

"Okay, when and where?" Old Master Qiao asked, rubbing his hands together eagerly, his body brimming with the energy of a young man.

"Leave tonight, to the Yuxi Hotel in Sanmenxia, Henan," the leader replied.

Just this evening, an informant planted by the leader next to the director secretly passed on an urgent message to the leader, saying that Master Jia had found the "Feng Hou Mausoleum" and obtained the "Ghost Pot," and was currently staying at the Yu Xi Hotel in Sanmenxia City, Henan Province, waiting for the director to send someone to make contact with him.

The leader immediately called to meet with Master Qiao, and then hurriedly drove a Toyota Jeep with Lou Yi to "Xiao Fengxian Restaurant". Because the matter was of great importance, he did not want to use his own people. The director had his own spies, and it was hard to guarantee that he did not have the director's mole under him.

Lou Yi stood silently outside the restaurant. His eyesight was excellent; no passerby in the alley could escape his notice. But Lou Yi never expected that outside the shopping mall across from the entrance of Shitou Hutong, a dark gray Shanghai-brand sedan was parked, with several pairs of eyes secretly watching them from inside.

Inside the Shanghai sedan, the driver was a thin, dark-skinned young man. In the back seat sat Ao Lao and Huang Jianguo, who had been following the leader for several days, essentially understanding his routines and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Now, the opportunity had finally arrived. Tonight, the leader went out with only a driver. The car stopped at the entrance of Shitou Hutong, and he entered the "Xiao Fengxian Restaurant" alone. The driver remained hidden in the shadows of a lamppost, appearing extremely alert.

"It seems the target is to meet someone," the driver, Maung Tin Lwin, whispered. He was a Burmese Chinese and a liaison officer for the Burmese Communist Party in Beijing.

"Never mind him, we'll make our move when the target leaves the restaurant and gets into the car at the alley entrance. When that happens, you start the car, and Comrade Huang Mingyue and I will pretend to be passersby. After the assassination is successful, you quickly drive the car over. Do you understand?" Old Ao instructed Mao Dinglun.

“Yes, Elder Ao,” Mao Dinglun replied.

After a while, the number of pedestrians on the road gradually decreased, and the "ding-a-ling" of bicycles disappeared. Only the old man selling roasted sweet potatoes at the entrance of Shitou Hutong was still hoarsely calling out to the occasional passerby, but no one stopped to buy. Old Ao looked at his watch; it was already past eight o'clock in the evening.

"Dad, I'm hungry," Huang Jianguo mumbled, having not eaten a single grain of rice all evening.

"Hang in there a little longer. Once things are done, Dad will take you to eat hot pot," Old Man Ao coaxed him.

"Elder Ao, the target has appeared!" Mao Dinglun suddenly said.

At the entrance of Shitou Hutong, the leader and a tall, fat old man with a youthful face and white hair walked out of the alley and continued to talk. The driver came to the Toyota Jeep, opened the door, and looked around warily.

"Start the operation!" Old Ao commanded, then opened the car door and got out of the car with Huang Jianguo. They took each other's arms and pretended to be pedestrians, then cut across the road and walked towards the alley entrance.

"Son, do you see that man in his fifties, with a square face and wearing a silver-gray Zhongshan suit? When we get close to him, I'll cough as a signal, and you immediately absorb all his vital energy, understand?" Old Master Ao lowered his voice and instructed again.

"Okay, Dad," Huang Jianguo replied nonchalantly.

As night fell, a rich, sweet aroma wafted through the air, filling Huang Jianguo's nostrils and whetting his appetite. Just as he passed the roasted sweet potato stall and was about to reach the alley entrance, the unexpected happened...

Huang Jianguo casually grabbed a fragrant sweet potato, happily opened his mouth and took a bite. Instantly, the sweet and refreshing taste filled his mouth. It was so delicious!

"Thief! You stole my sweet potatoes!" The old man spotted him immediately, rushed out from behind the stall, grabbed Huang Jianguo's collar, and shouted, "Give me the money..."

Huang Jianguo didn't have time to pay attention to him and hurriedly stuffed the sweet potato into his mouth in two or three bites.

Old Man Ao was taken aback. He hurriedly took out a ten-yuan note from his pocket, threw it to the old man, and grabbed Huang Jianguo and left.

"Looking for you, Lao Qian..." the old man quickly called out to him.

Old Ao waved his hand, indicating that he didn't want it.

By the time he turned back to look at the alley entrance, it was too late. The leader and the old man had already gotten into the car. Just as the door was closing, Old Man Ao heard the leader instruct the driver: "Go to Sanmenxia, Henan..." Then, the Toyota Jeep drove away.

Old Master Ao had no time to complain. He hurriedly waved for a Shanghai sedan, dragged Huang Jianguo into the car, and ordered Mao Dinglun to follow them.

Chapter 139

Youliang ran frantically, tears of humiliation streaming down his face. The world stretched endlessly, the night was deep, and he had no idea where to go. Only one thought occupied his mind: to get as far away from Chen Caihua as possible. He walked for a long time, the cold raindrops falling on his neck. He gradually came to his senses, gazing at the gloomy night sky, a surge of hatred welling up within him… He silently vowed that he would find Nizi with his own strength, then hide far, far away, so that no one could find him, not even Chen Caihua, whose nose was as sensitive as a dog's.

The rain intensified, and Youliang was soaked to the bone, shivering from the cold.

At this moment, he noticed a dilapidated ancestral hall ahead, with crumbling walls and ruins, but there was a broken house with a roof that had not yet collapsed, which should provide shelter from the rain. So he quickly stepped through the puddles and rushed in.

Inside the dilapidated house, a fire burned, its warmth particularly comforting in the gloomy, rainy night. Beside the fire sat a disheveled, blind old man, roasting two ears of dry, hard corn, which emitted a fragrant aroma.

"Who!" the old blind man asked warily, stretching his hands out to the campfire as if to protect his food.

“I…” Youliang’s stomach rumbled, he swallowed and said softly, “I came here to take shelter from the rain.”

"It's so late, why aren't you home, child? Why are you here to take shelter from the rain? Isn't that strange?" The old blind man asked, puzzled, recognizing Youliang's childish voice.

Youliang said in a low voice, "I have no home anymore..."

"Oh, so you're a homeless man too," the old blind man frowned and sighed. "Then sit down and warm yourself by the fire; you'll get sick if you get wet in the rain."

Youliang plopped down beside the campfire, which was lit by scraps of wood he had picked up from the dilapidated house. The fire was burning brightly, and wisps of white steam rose from Youliang's wet clothes. He felt much warmer and more comfortable all over, but then his stomach started rumbling again.

"Child, are you hungry? The corn is roasted. Take one and eat it, just one." The blind old man felt a pang of pity, but still urged him on.

Youliang glanced at him gratefully, quickly grabbed a corn cob, and hurriedly started eating it, ignoring how hot it was.

"Uncle, don't you have a home either?" Youliang asked while taking a bite.

"Home? I was born an abandoned blind man. My fate was bad, and I can't blame anyone but myself. I'll just have to fend for myself." The old blind man blinked his withered eyelids and sighed.

"Then how do you make a living?" Youliang asked with sympathy.

"Fortune telling," the old blind man replied.

Fortune telling? Youliang's eyes suddenly lit up, and he stammered, "Uncle, if we're looking for someone, can you tell us?"

"Of course," the old blind man nodded, reaching out to pick up another ear of corn and slowly chewing it. Youliang noticed that he had very few teeth left.

"Can you tell my fortune? But I don't have any money..." Youliang asked in a low voice.

"It's fate that two homeless people can sit here together by the fire in this dilapidated temple during a rainy night. Since we're just idling around anyway, tell me, who are you looking for?" the old blind man chuckled and asked.

“Nizi,” Youliang quickly replied.

The blind old man remained silent, his ears carefully listening to the sounds around him, searching for any external signs...

Youliang dared not disturb them, but silently held the half-eaten corn and turned it over and over on the campfire, waiting quietly.

The old blind man stretched out one hand, counted on his fingers for a long time, and finally spoke with a solemn expression: "The night rain has stopped, but the dark clouds have not yet dispersed, and the damp fog is heavy. In addition, corn is roasting over a fire. Grains are associated with Kun (earth), and fire with Li (fire). All things are associated with the hexagram 'Earth over Fire,' which is the most profound and also the most mysterious of the sixty-four hexagrams in the Book of Changes..."

"Uncle, what do you mean?" Youliang asked anxiously.

"‘Earth over Fire, Ming Yi’, the upper trigram is Kun, representing the earth, and the lower trigram is Li, representing the sun. This is the image of the sun setting into the earth. With the sun gone, the world is dark, and the future is uncertain. ‘Yi’ means annihilation. Ming Yi means the retreat of sunlight. My child, you are currently in a very difficult situation, and the road ahead is unpredictable. You must maintain your integrity and bide your time to overcome this difficulty." The blind old man sighed sadly.

"Just tell me, are we going to find Nizi or not?" Youliang didn't understand those formal words and asked directly.

"The earth changes to the sky, fire transforms into water, the person being sought must be a wanderer. The inner trigram has three moving lines, so they won't go too far for now. Water represents concealment, so they are often found in places with water and are not easy to find. The body trigram is weak and the use trigram is drained, so this person named Nizi is not doing well and may suffer from being bullied," the blind old man explained.

When Youliang heard that Nizi was being bullied, he became extremely anxious and stood up abruptly.

"Don't worry, child. The ninth line of the third hexagram is moving, and the hexagram text says: 'Ming Yi in the southern hunt, obtaining its great head.' This person named Ni Zi will likely turn south soon," the blind old man comforted him.

"Uncle, I want to ask you, where is Nizi now?" Youliang said impatiently.

The blind old man fell silent again, his ears twitching slightly. After a while, several roosters crowed from a distant village. He smiled and nodded, then said, "The four or five crowings of roosters are the Zhen and Xun directions, which are east or southeast. Child, the person you are looking for is still there. As for distance, he must have crossed the Yellow River."

Children who grow up in the countryside develop a strong sense of direction because the vast wilderness lacks obvious landmarks, and they never get lost, even at night.

"I'll go find her now," Youliang said, his gaze fixed firmly on the old blind man.

"Child, go forth, you will receive the help of a benefactor in the East," the old blind man said, then lowered his head and went back to eating his corn.

Youliang said, "Thank you, old man, I'm leaving now." Then he resolutely stepped out of the dilapidated ancestral hall, looked eastward, and left without looking back.

At this moment, the night rain had stopped, and it was pitch black all around. Youliang had dried his clothes, and they were dry and warm. He finally knew where Nizi had gone, and he felt full of energy, a world apart from his previous disheveled state.