Histoires de fantômes

Chapitre 181

Actually, I don't need to teach him; he would have made arrangements long ago. After the money enters the Swiss bank, we can use the bank's hidden security system to trace the flow of every penny in that mysterious account until we catch the mastermind behind it all.

Swiss banks claim they will do everything in their power to protect client privacy, but that depends on who they're dealing with. The tycoon, after closing a thousand paths, will unhesitatingly forge the thousand and first one until he gets what he wants. And now there's an advantage: the world-class hacker Xiao Yan is getting along very well with the tycoon. With her around, no information flowing through the internet can escape his control. As for how the tycoon got Xiao Yan to submit, that's something for later.

The tycoon leaned back and looked up at the chandelier on the ceiling.

The fire in the fireplace had completely died down, and the air conditioner in the corner turned on automatically, sending a strong, warm breeze blowing silently. In late winter and early spring, the cold is most likely to hurt one's bones, and I have to thank Xiao Keleng for her thoughtfulness; no matter what changes I make to the villa, she considers every aspect for me.

A tycoon's silence often occurs before he makes a major decision.

I made myself a second cup of coffee. In the long night, coffee is the best pick-me-up, capable of reviving even the most drowsy person. It was quiet outside; everyone was probably asleep except for the sentries on the watchtower.

The night flight from Japan to Hong Kong Island has tickets that can be discounted by as much as 30%. In another half hour, Gu Qingcheng should arrive at the airport. Will Gu Zhijin be so happy that he forgets everything else after getting his guqin back without lifting a finger?

“Feng, I want to remind you of something—” The tycoon sat up straight again, his eyes flashing with a sharp, menacing light, like two angry swords piercing through everything. That was the true nature of his underworld tycoon persona, which had been exaggerated and spread countless times by small figures in the underworld.

I smiled but didn't answer. What he was thinking and what he was about to say was probably within my expectations.

“Baoling likes you. This is the first time she has taken the initiative to like someone. Before you, among her nearly one hundred secret suitors, none of them approached her willingly. Since she returned to my side at the age of eleven, this is the first time she has seriously expressed her liking for someone other than me. Feng, you are very lucky.”

I smiled and nodded. Indeed, meeting Guan Baoling in Hokkaido was the luckiest turning point in my life.

"You're willing to tear down the villa for her, which proves you love her very much too, right? Seeing you two in love makes me genuinely happy. So, I will do my best to create the best future for you, even if it means using any means necessary. Do you understand?" The tycoon's voice suddenly rose, a murderous glint flashing in his eyes.

I understand what he means. From now on, he can only love Guan Baoling and must cut off all contact with other girls to avoid hurting her.

“I hurt Baoling’s mother, filling her childhood with sorrow and hardship. So, I must give her the most secure future, free from worries, betrayal by men, and other women vying for her love. Feng, you’re a smart young man. You must have heard about many of the things I’ve done before, right? If anyone gets in my way, even if they escape to the ends of the earth, I will dig them up and tear them to pieces—think it over carefully and give me a satisfactory answer!” He stood up, forcefully expanding his chest, his gaze fixed on me.

This was a threat with an extremely clear intent. Back in front of Fengge Temple, he had instructed Helen to use the same methods to deal with Wang Jiangnan, but this time the level of importance was upgraded, and he was personally involved.

"Mr. Ye, are you threatening me?" I sipped my coffee and smiled as I met his piercing gaze.

“Yes, I admit it. Let’s be frank from the start. If you really accept Baoling, from the very first second you said ‘I love her,’ she belongs to you alone. And all the other girls you meet after that will have to disappear from your heart—” He forcefully swung his strong arm, as if he were pushing over and smashing a pile of porcelain.

I laughed: "Now you're the one asking for my help, and you're threatening me instead? To break the 'black magic' curse, the villa must be demolished. You understand? I can sell it to Watanabe Shiro, who has ties to the Yamaguchi-gumi, and transfer the power to break the curse to someone else. You know better than I how big the Japanese appetite is—"

His actions of "smashing everything" made me very uncomfortable. Even if he liked Guan Baoling and married her, he wouldn't abandon Su Lun, after all, he had promised the surgeon that he would take care of Su Lun for the rest of his life.

“Feng, you’re threatening me too, aren’t you?” The tycoon took a step forward, like a lion about to unleash its fury.

I shook my head: "No, I'm just analyzing the absolute facts. Fifteen billion can save Miss Guan's life, but ten fifteen billion might not be enough to break the 'black magic'. If you want everyone to stand on the same side, you should be humble."

Regarding the dismantling of Xunfuyuan, I have made a decision, partly out of public interest and partly out of personal interest. I do not want to make others owe me favors for no reason, and of course, I do not want to be threatened by anyone.

The atmosphere in the hall suddenly became tense, but before the tycoon could speak again, Xiao Keleng had already pushed the door open and rushed in, phone in hand, towards me, completely ignoring the tycoon's presence: "Mr. Feng, Mr. Feng—we just received a report from the police station that a strange traffic accident occurred on Highway 146 in the Xianling section. A taxi suddenly exploded and caught fire, burning to ashes. The license plate number is... '0191'."

Her short hair was a mess, and the buttons of her pajamas were haphazardly fastened, clearly indicating that she had been woken up by a phone call.

"0191" was the license plate number of the taxi Gu Qingcheng took when she left. I was stunned for a moment: "Is the license plate number correct? Where is the person in the car? Where is Guqin?" This blow was too cruel. I was just thinking about what she looked like a few minutes ago.

Xiao Ke rubbed his sleepy eyes and slumped down: "I've asked the traffic police repeatedly. The video footage from several checkpoints on Highway 146 shows that this taxi was heading to Muwanzhoushan tonight and returned five hours later when it suddenly exploded violently. The cause is unknown. All that's left at the scene is charred black, and you can't see anything."

The tycoon suddenly sneered from the side: "It's just an imaginable ending, what's the big deal? The Japanese are cunning and treacherous; they wouldn't let anyone leave with cultural relics so easily. Their many years of war history have long demonstrated that their modus operandi is exactly the same as that of the ancient Pacific pirates. They only know how to plunder and collect, continuously sending treasures from all over the world to this isolated island, but never allowing outsiders to take them away. Anyone who violates this rule is stepping on their tail and will incur extremely cruel retaliation."

The Truth of the Sixth Tomb of the Gods

— Chapter 2 - Bronze Warrior Statue —

A sudden chill ran down my spine as images of Japan's monstrous history over the past century flooded my mind. The tycoon was right; for the past hundred years, Japan has left the world with only the impression of rampant plunder and expansion—starting with the invasion of warships and cannons, followed by the onslaught of vulgar culture and electronic waste.

"Mr. Feng, what should we do?" Xiao Keleng had become much more awake.

"Xiao Xiao, ask the police station to provide a detailed on-site investigation report and pictures, hoping to find clues about the murderer." I began to feel a silent anger. If this was really orchestrated by a powerful figure, his actions were simply outrageous.

Xiao Ke sighed, "With such a violent explosion, both the person and the guqin are probably burned to ashes—it's a pity that Miss Gu was such a brilliant and outstanding girl..."

I'm the one who should be sighing. If Gu Zhijin investigates, I won't be able to escape suspicion either, especially the ending where I gave the zither to Gu Qingcheng without taking a penny, which is impossible to explain.

Just as Xiao Keleng was about to turn and leave, I blinked and gave her a look, signaling her to wait a moment. The strangeness of the samurai statue tonight was even more troubling to me. If the tycoon didn't come in, I might have to have a long, in-depth conversation with Su Lun on the overseas phone. With Xiao Keleng there, it would be easier for the three of us to discuss things.

After the car explosion, Gu Qingcheng is certain to die. But what about Teng Jia's soul, hidden within the guqin? Will it also vanish along with the guqin's destruction? If Teng Jia's second thousand-year imprisonment ends here, it would truly be a cause for lament.

The tycoon had finished speaking. He raised his right hand and extended his index finger: "Feng, there's another condition attached to what I just said. If you want what you want, you'd better consider my last sentence..."

His imposing aura had weakened considerably, a fact that even Xiao Keleng noticed, prompting a surprised expression on her face.

"What are the conditions?" My gaze fell on the fireplace, now just ashes, as I thought about how anxious I had been the night Guan Baoling disappeared. I had long sensed that this villa was unusual, but the change in the angle of the samurai statue just now still surprised me.

"I'm washing my hands of this business and retiring from the underworld," the tycoon said in eight words.

Xiao Keleng tactfully headed towards the restroom, not wanting to interrupt my conversation with the tycoon.

I exchanged a glance with the tycoon, smiled, and asked, "What do you mean? You want me to retire from the underworld?"

The tycoon stared at me intently, but then leaned back and gave a wry smile: "Feng, we're all smart people, why keep going until we've revealed our true intentions?"

I understood what he meant. If I wanted to be with Guan Baoling, I had to leave the dangerous and treacherous world of the martial arts world and ensure my own survival so I could stay with her. The martial arts world was extremely dangerous; today's heroes might be lying dead in the streets tomorrow. He was a powerful figure in the martial arts world who had risen through the ranks through bloodshed and turmoil, and he understood this principle better than anyone. Therefore, he was even more unwilling to let his daughter be with someone from the martial arts world.

"I didn't deliberately get involved in the affairs of the martial arts world; those things just came to me, and my goal wasn't fame, fortune, or power at all. So, since I'm not in the martial arts world, there's no question of me leaving it. I'll keep going until I finish what I'm doing, and no one can hold me back or stop me." I was telling the truth, and my words were sincere.

The tycoon wore an extremely complicated expression: "Feng, I'm doing this for your own good—"

I interrupted him: "Senior Ye, don't worry about me. The most important thing to do now is to agree to the blackmailer's conditions, hand over 1.5 billion, and let them lift Miss Guan's curse." With no clue what to do, Guan Baoling's life was the most important thing. It was better to make a mistake than to miss the opportunity. Every hour that was delayed, the tooth pupa would penetrate deeper into her body. Who knew what the final result would be?

The Wind, Forest, Fire, and Mountain spells no longer appear, and there is currently no better way to deal with the Fang Demon's curse.

The tycoon hesitated before standing up: "I will think about it some more, and please give me a definite answer."

I smiled and said, "What I just said is the most certain answer, and it cannot be changed."

He gave a cold "humph," said nothing more, and strode out.

Knowing Guan Baoling's secret background beforehand filled me with both joy and turmoil; it was difficult to explain this to Su Lun. The scalpel's will stipulated that I take care of her for life, and before meeting Guan Baoling, I had indeed intended to do so. Now, the tycoon is no longer an obstacle between Guan Baoling and me, and with the Fang Demon's curse broken, there are no hindrances between us whatsoever; we can naturally begin a relationship.

"What about Suren? Should we just give up?"

Xiao Keleng walked out of the restroom, his face full of gloom: "Mr. Feng, Miss Gu's matter is a bit troublesome. She was suddenly attacked after leaving Xunfuyuan Villa. The police suspect that we tampered with her car and will search the villa within 48 hours. This matter will be very difficult to explain. We will all become suspects and be thoroughly investigated and questioned repeatedly. We will not be able to do anything from now on and can only obediently listen to the police."

I didn't have time to discuss it. I went to the fireplace, reached out and lifted the bronze statue, using both arms to pull it down. It weighed about fifteen kilograms and felt quite heavy. I placed it on the dining table in the hall and circled it, trying to find the source of the white light.

The light I just saw could be interpreted as electro-optical light or laser light; if it were either of those, it would definitely require a triggering device. When I forcefully tapped the bronze statue's exterior, it emitted a dull, muffled "thump," clearly indicating that its interior was completely solid. The box it held in its hands showed no signs of burning.

I looked at Xiao Keleng: "Xiao, the angle at which the warrior statue upstairs is standing has changed. Do you want to go up and take a look?"

She paused, then asked, "What?" But she was always quick-witted, and had already rushed up the stairs to the second floor. Just past the corner, she exclaimed in horror, "Huh? It really has changed! It has changed again. Could it be that this time, it's because of the melting of the Greenland ice sheet?"

I was about to sit down and close my eyes to meditate for a while when I heard her call and couldn't help but open my eyes.

Xiao Keleng's exclamations continued, and she pounded on the warrior statue, making loud "bang bang bang" sounds. Her mention of the "Greenland ice sheet" really struck me.

Last year, while in Italy, I watched a lengthy television special produced by an international environmental organization on "Global Warming Winter Causes Arctic Ice Melting." It used extensive data and visual aids to demonstrate that Arctic ice and snow are melting at an accelerated rate, with the volume lost in the past five years exceeding the total loss over the previous fifty years. The world-famous Greenland ice sheet is also affected by the warm winter, with its edges continuously melting and breaking off into the sea.

I got up and went upstairs, hoping Xiao Keleng could provide further explanation. Her use of the word "again" indicated that she had experienced something similar before this strange incident.

Xiao Keleng stood in front of the warrior statue, shaking his head and stamping his feet repeatedly, his emotions running high.

The samurai statue stood still and silent, gleaming under the fluorescent lights, but I now felt that its presence in this villa was a very strange thing.

"Two and a half years ago, in September 2003, Mr. Scalpel told me that monitoring instruments had detected that the statue of the warrior had rotated three and a half degrees to due north. This minute difference is imperceptible to the naked eye, but during his detailed search of the villa, he recorded the location and orientation of every decorative item, making the change easily noticeable through comparison. Within 24 hours, television news reported that a block of ice, approximately four square kilometers in size, had broken off in northeastern Greenland and fallen into the sea, causing a minor underwater earthquake. He inadvertently connected the two events and asked me to follow up on this matter, investigating whether the rotation of the warrior statue was directly related to the melting of the Arctic ice cap—"

Xiao Keleng's words were long and quite unbelievable.

Xunfuyuan and Greenland are thousands of miles apart, and the possibility of them being related is extremely slim, but I still trust the scalpel's judgment, and I'd rather believe it exists than not.

I immediately used Xiao Keleng's phone to dial a number in Iceland, a small country in Northern Europe. On the other end of the line was my college friend, Sunston, who currently works for the European International Meteorological Union and whose main research topic is "warm winter ice melt".

Xiao Keleng strode into the study, and the sound of pages turning filled the air.

The bearded Senston's gruff voice remained unchanged: "Hello, who is this?"

The microphone was accompanied by the interplay of various instruments' beeps and claps, and of course, the screeching of a dot-matrix printer at high speed. While on the phone, he rapidly issued orders: "Connect machine number 15 to the press conference projector. Machines 16, 18, and 19 continue monitoring the Arctic sea level rise. Contact the maritime helicopter mapping team and report in detail the location, volume, and thickness of the ice break. Immediately draw a fault line diagram and send it back in ten minutes..."

I quickly introduced myself and then got straight to the point: "Senston, tell me, is there some trouble in Greenland?"

Without bothering with pleasantries, Senston replied succinctly, "Yes, fifteen minutes ago, a very serious ice break occurred in the northeastern part of the Greenland Old Ice Sheet. Preliminary estimates suggest that the area of the ice that broke into the sea exceeds 25 square kilometers, with an unknown thickness. An earthquake of magnitude 5 or higher occurred on the seabed, accompanied by the reactivation of a dormant volcano. I have to go now, we'll talk tomorrow."

He quickly hung up, indicating that he was in the midst of a highly intense work command.

I gasped, turning my gaze back to the warrior statue's face. Aside from the strange clock it held in its arms, its overall design was unremarkable. If it possessed some kind of magical sensory ability to foresee natural disasters in distant places, it would undoubtedly have immeasurable value.

Xiao Keleng was still in the study. I sat down on the sofa and gazed down at his feet. The boots, typical of ancient cavalry, had clear patterns, prominent details, and exquisite craftsmanship. Upon closer inspection, they were fundamentally different from those of the Terracotta Army, exuding a certain magical charm.

Almost every master sculptor in history has said: a sculpture should not be made with delicate brushstrokes, but rather with a rich artistic charm, so that visitors can understand what you are trying to express without having to read the label or description.

This warrior statue seems to have achieved just that. If I were to name it, I would choose words like "longing," "anxiety," "expectation," "gazing into the distance," or "reminiscence," because it gives the feeling of someone standing on a high place, full of anticipation, gazing into the distance.

So, what is the driving force behind its rotation? I slapped my forehead, puzzled, and put aside Gu Qingcheng's bombing case for the moment. Things always have an order of precedence; my pursuit of my elder brother Yang Tian outweighed all other distractions.

Xiao Keleng stopped browsing and quickly came out, waving a book at me from the study doorway: "Mr. Feng, here is a book that Mr. Scalpel ordered last September when he last came over. He had already returned to Cairo before the book was delivered. I've always felt that some of the plots in this book are related to the angle of the samurai statue's movement."

Suddenly, a searchlight flashed past the window from east to west, followed by two muffled "thuds" of a sniper rifle firing. I rushed to the window, flung it open, and ducked to the left, peering west. Since the searchlight was tracking westward, the sniper's target must also be to the west.

Xiao Keleng took a slender gray walkie-talkie from her belt and called out urgently in a low voice, "What is it?"

The walkie-talkie crackled with static a couple of times, and then someone reported: "Southeast lookout tower reports that someone was hiding outside a second-floor window. After being discovered, he fled west. Two shots were fired, wounding the target in the shoulder, but not fatally."

I peeked out the window; the wind was howling outside, and I couldn't see a soul in sight.

The distance from the watchtower to the window of the main building is less than 100 meters. If the sniper hadn't been suspicious and unwilling to shoot the enemy directly, there would definitely have been a dead body outside the window.

Xiao Ke shrugged, indicating his helplessness: "Mr. Feng, the other party's lightness skill is very high, and with the strong night wind, the people inside the house could not feel anyone approaching at all."

As I closed the window again, my mind cleared instantly: "If I'm determined to dismantle Xunfu Garden brick by brick, why waste so much brainpower tonight trying to figure out the secret of the warrior statue? Instead of just talking the talk and 'longing for the fish in the deep,' I should rest early, conserve my energy, and start solving this whole bunch of mysteries tomorrow." Just like the saying "A gentleman is quick to act but slow to speak," as advocated by a certain great Chinese leader, perhaps only by using both hands and brain, working in tandem, can one possess the heroic qualities of a master tomb raider.

What Xiao Keleng was holding wasn't strictly speaking a "book," but rather some kind of privately bound booklet. It had a lake-blue cover, was two inches thick, and was an A4 size; the pages inside were already yellowed.

I let out a soft "hmm," because it reminded me of a booklet I'd seen in a private library during my travels in Nanjing—at least from the outside, they were identical. Intuition rarely fails; even though I knew that such antique-looking booklets existed wherever there were Chinese people around the world, I could sense that it was identical to a treasure in that ancient library named "Thinking of Qin, Admiring Han, Revering Tang, and Honoring Song."

That library had another name, "Henwanju", and it was located on Liulifang Back Street, west of Yuhuatai in Nanjing.

Xiao Keleng placed the booklet on the coffee table and smiled apologetically: "Mr. Scalpel spent 150,000 US dollars to order this book, but he didn't read it himself and let me read it first. Even now, I still feel sorry for him."

She never mentioned her longing for the scalpel to me, but I could tell that her eyes would always well up with tears whenever the scalpel was mentioned.

Unlike the books in the "Henwanju" collection, the book's cover did not bear the eight characters "Si Qin Mu Han Yang Tang Zun Song" written in Wang Xizhi's "Lanting style"—it was blank. However, when I bent down and examined the paper at a 45-degree angle, I could clearly see slight traces of sandpaper on the right vertical position. I immediately realized that this was simply something that the later owner of the book deliberately sanded off to prevent outsiders from knowing that it belonged to the ancestors of Henwanju.

The owner of Henwanju was surnamed Xiang, and his given name was Hui. According to several senior figures in Nanjing's antique circles, Xiang Hui's ancestors were the largest collectors of Qin and Han artifacts during the late Ming and early Qing dynasties. His family owned eight libraries in the western part of Nanjing, and several Ming and Qing emperors were guests of the Xiang family. Their earliest collection included no fewer than a thousand pieces of calligraphy, plaques, couplets, and impromptu poems bestowed by Emperors Kangxi and Qianlong. However, just like the destruction of the Epang Palace by the Chu people, which left only scorched earth, the Xiang family suffered an even more tragic fate than recorded in history books after the Japanese invaded Nanjing. All their books were looted.

"Xiao Xiao, this is Chinese stuff, isn't it?" I gently stroked the cover, which was supposedly made from "Huzhou Lanting paper" through forty pulping processes. Perhaps behind this simple booklet lies the tragic history of the Chinese nation's destruction and ruin. A gentleman is innocent, but possessing a treasure is a crime. The Xiang family's glory did not fall under the iron heel of ethnic division and conflict on the Chinese mainland, but it vanished into nothingness amidst the powerful ships, cannons, and chrysanthemum swords of the Yamato people.

Xiao Keleng is a Korean, so he probably can't understand the special pain that Chinese people feel for the word "Nanjing".

"Perhaps so, Mr. Feng. It doesn't matter whose book it is; I'm only interested in its contents. It describes the detailed dissection and deconstruction of an ancient tool, and the book concludes that as long as a substance called 'love thread' is found, this tool called 'seismograph' can be made."

I paused for a moment, then quickly opened the cover. On the first page, a bronze vessel shaped like a wine vessel was drawn with a fine wolf-hair brush. At each of the eight directions of the vessel hung an upside-down golden dragon, each holding a bronze bead in its mouth. Projecting the dragons' mouths were eight toads with their mouths open upwards. Anyone who has studied Chinese history knows that this is the "Seismograph," developed by the Han Dynasty scientist Zhang Heng, one of China's greatest inventions.

Previously, I had only skimmed through the books in my study and hadn't paid attention to this booklet.

I quickly flipped through a few dozen pages. The book used numerous hand-drawn illustrations to describe the disassembly and reconstruction of the seismograph, and repeatedly mentioned the term "love thread." According to the book, the love thread was about one-eighth the diameter of a silkworm's silk and one-eighth the toughness of a spider's silk; it was extremely thin and very easy to break. Its existence allowed for the precise detection of seismic waves. If there was even a slight ground tremor within a thousand miles in a certain direction—the kind of tremor felt when more than a hundred warhorses leaped and stomped their feet simultaneously—the love thread would break, and the copper ball in the dragon's mouth would fall into the toad's mouth.