Having seen Sun Junfu off, Liao Zihui had to get down to some real business.
Chu Huaijun was dead. That had caught Liao Zihui completely off guard. In all his years as Garrison Commissioner, he had run into plenty of unexpected situations, but having a proxy power he had personally fostered lose his life outright—such madness was a first.
Uncovering the cause of Chu Huaijun's death had not been difficult. The Second Miss of the Chu family had returned; not only had she rejected the deal for the Paramount, but she had also taken over the Chu family's businesses. In all probability, Chu Huaijun had died at her hands.
Yet how should he handle this woman now?
Get rid of her?
Eliminating her would not solve a single problem. On the contrary, it would stir up a massive turmoil, leaving the situation far more tense than it was now.
Liao Zihui summoned his secretary, Ling Sujun. "Draft a report. Put the acquisition of the Paramount on hold, and suspend all operations targeting He Yuxiu."
Ling Sujun noted this down in a small notebook, while offering her own suggestion. "Director-General, the task checklist we received earlier had clear deadlines for both the Paramount and He Yuxiu. If we propose a delay now, I'm afraid..."
Liao Zihui shook his head. "As long as I sit in this seat as Garrison Director-General, this matter must be slowed down, or it will lead to irreversible consequences."
"Should the actions targeting Li the Seventh also be slowed down?"
Liao Zihui hesitated for a good while, rubbing his chin. "Actions targeting Li the Seventh must continue, but our strategy needs to change."
***
At Miaosheng Gramophone Shop, Li Banfeng bought over a hundred boxes of film reels, nearly emptying Ling Miaosheng's stockroom.
Ling Miaosheng was somewhat puzzled. "Mr. Li, as far as I know, you have a film company under your wing. Reason dictates you wouldn't need to purchase film from me. Price-wise, I don't have the slightest advantage."
Li Banfeng shook his head. "What I care about isn't the price. It's art."
Ling Miaosheng's shop dealt primarily in gramophones and records, but he also sold movie projectors and film reels. He had strict quality standards for his goods, and from his hands one could acquire top-grade film rarely seen in Puluo Province.
Such film was ideal as compensation for the projector.
Aside from the film, Li Banfeng also purchased two clockwork gramophones. Both had been manufactured in Amikan, and their parts were interchangeable with the wife's.
The craftsmanship on these two gramophones was exceptionally refined, bearing a certain resemblance to the wife in how several details had been handled.
Li Banfeng admired them for a moment, then a few questions occurred to him.
Exquisite craftsmanship, interchangeable parts, and distinct technological features.
This definitely was not an individual's handmade product, nor did it look like something a small workshop could produce.
These two gramophones had to be the work of an industrial enterprise.
In the Outer States, electronic devices ran rampant, and electromagnetic players were already obsolete. Did ancient gramophones relying on acoustic principles still have any market in the Outer States?
If there was no longer a market in the Outer States, would any company in Amikan specialize in producing such gramophones?
Could it be that they existed solely to do business with Puluo Province?
Even if an Amikan company catered exclusively to Puluo Province, what about Cheman? Ingrid? Autrili?
The market in Puluo Province shouldn't hold that much appeal.
Li Banfeng asked Ling Miaosheng, "Is the Amikan you talk about the same place as the Amikan spoken of in the Outer States?"
Ling Miaosheng frequently imported goods from Amikan, so he naturally grasped Li Banfeng's meaning.
"That question is rather difficult to answer. There are two theories. I don't know which one you'd prefer to believe.
"The first is that there is only one Amikan. You can travel directly from the Outer States to Amikan, and the goods they manufacture are transported through the Outer States into Puluo Province."
"And the other?"
"The other is that there is an Outer Amikan and an Inner Amikan, and their relationship is just like that between Puluo Province and the Outer States."
Inner Amikan.
Did Amikan have its own Puluo Province too?
Li Banfeng asked, "You've dealt with the outside world quite a bit. You should know which rumor is true."
"Mr. Li, you misunderstand. In truth, I don't have many opportunities to deal with the outside. Whether Inner Amikan or Outer Amikan, as long as an item comes from out there, it has to pass through the Outer States before reaching Puluo Province, so I can only source goods from the Outer States.
"As for the official explanation, there is only one: all these things come from Amikan, without any concept of inner or outer.
"However, if you want the truth, I can tell you in all seriousness that Inner Amikan truly exists, and the Amikan gramophones here all hail from Inner Amikan."
Li Banfeng believed Ling Miaosheng, but he had to know the reason. "How do you know the truth?"
Ling Miaosheng looked at Li Banfeng. After staring for a moment, he told the truth. "In my youth, to pursue art, I once traveled to Amikan."
"Outer Amikan?"
"I've been to both Inner and Outer Amikan." Ling Miaosheng's tone carried a hint of melancholy. "I paid a grievous price for it. Part of my memory was taken from me—the memories concerning Inner Amikan.
"Yet some things could not be taken away: the art from Inner Amikan. It is carved into my mind, never to fade."
"What kind of art is it?"
Ling Miaosheng shook his head. "I cannot describe it, for I don't know what form of expression to use, and the process of expressing it is agonizingly painful."
"Then don't force yourself." To have spoken this far, Ling Miaosheng had already been candid enough.
Ling Miaosheng urged, "Mr. Li, what I told you today, I hope you will not share with anyone."
Li Banfeng nodded, pulled the brim of his hat low, and had men deliver the film reels and gramophones to his outer residence.
After moving the goods into the Portable Abode, Li Banfeng returned to Xiaoyaowu. Ma the Fifth brought over an invitation. "The Garrison Director-General invited you to dinner. The night after tomorrow, at the Garrison Office."
Li Banfeng glanced at the invitation and shoved it back into Ma the Fifth's hands. "Not going."
"Old Seven, Liao Zihui invited you in person, and you won't even give him face?"
"It's not about giving face. If I go to the Garrison Office, I'll kill him."
Ma the Fifth laughed. "Don't talk in anger. Our future business still relies on the Garrison Commissioner."
Li Banfeng didn't laugh. "It's not anger. If I go to the Garrison Office, he might kill me. Rather than waiting for him to kill me, I'd rather kill him first."
That was Li Banfeng's logic, and Ma the Fifth couldn't find a single logical flaw in it.
"How about this: I'll invite Liao Zihui to Xiaoyaowu. If he's willing to come, you can meet him."
"Fine."
Ma the Fifth produced another invitation. "Boss Li of Furong Zhai invited us to gather at his home. He also asked for the night after tomorrow, but when I told him we had other business, he wanted to make it tomorrow instead. Are we going?"
Li Banfeng nodded. "We can go to that one."
Ma the Fifth sighed. "I really have to hand it to you. In your eyes, Li Haoyun has more face than Liao Zihui?"
"Furong Zhai is a fine place, isn't it?"
Ma the Fifth nodded repeatedly. "A fine place. Once you go, you never want to leave."
"When there's a fine place to go, why would I want to go to the Garrison Office?"
Ma the Fifth blinked, finding Li Banfeng's reasoning remarkably sound.
***
At midnight, Li Banfeng went to Xiaoyaowu's rear building. Reaching the third floor, he entered his private suite, hid the key, and returned to the Portable Abode.
In high spirits today, Li Banfeng carried his oil can and headed straight for the wife.
The gramophone wavered tremulously, "Husband, dear Husband, listen to me first... your humble servant has urgent matters..."
"Urgent indeed!" Li Banfeng embraced the gramophone from behind. "Come, my wife, speak slowly."
***
Two o'clock in the morning.
The suite door opened.
Li Banfeng's door and lock were custom-made. Breaking through with brute force was difficult enough, let alone picking it silently like this.
The lockpicker wore a ring on his index finger—a treasure specifically meant for lockpicking.
Dressed in a suit of black, the person entered without the slightest footfall. Even if a high-tier Scrying Cultivator had been present, not a sound could have been heard.
This was not merely because of his high cultivation; his shoes and clothing were treasures as well. The soles made no sound against the floor, and the fabric produced no rustle when rubbing together.
Scanning the room and finding it empty, the figure in black pulled a multicolored feather from his sleeve and flicked it into the air.
Thief Cultivator technique: No Treasure Missed.
This was a method Thief Cultivators used to locate treasure. The higher the cultivation, the more exquisite the tracking technique.
Given this black-clad man's cultivation, if he were searching a person for treasures, a pinch of dust would suffice; observing where it settled would tell him the treasure's location.
However, Li Banfeng's suite was large. To pinpoint treasures within such a spacious room required some external assistance.
This feather was a custom-made Thief Cultivator tool. After fluttering through the air for a moment, the feather landed on the safe beside the bed.
Grasping the dial, the figure in black spun it twice, cracked the combination, and effortlessly popped the safe open with his thimble-ring. Inside, he saw checks, gold bars, and silver dollars packed to the brim.
Were these treasures?
To a Thief Cultivator, they were definitely treasures. But they were not his objective. Anything outside his target, he wouldn't touch at all, so as not to cause unnecessary complications.
Closing the safe, the black-clad figure tossed the feather into the air once more. The feather drifted for a moment, then flew toward the underside of the bed.
Under the bed lay a supreme treasure.
The black-clad man bent down and reached beneath the bed, feeling along the crack between floorboards until his fingers found a key.
Holding the key, he pondered for a long while, trying to deduce its purpose.
Since this key was a supreme treasure, its value certainly didn't lie in the key itself, but rather in whatever it was linked to.
This key could open a door—perhaps a room door, a cabinet door, or a chest. The true treasure lay behind that door.
But where was that door?
The figure in black used the No Treasure Missed technique again, checking every corner of the suite, but found no treasure.
He searched through all the trunks and cabinets, yet still found nothing he was looking for.
This required further investigation. Until things were clear, he couldn't disturb this key recklessly; it had to be put back where it belonged.
Not just the key—everything in this room had to be restored to its original state.
Standing in the room, the black-clad man gave his sleeve a gentle wave. A whirlwind kicked up, erasing every trace within the room; even the dust he had brought in from outside was swept into his sleeve.
Thief Cultivator technique: Wild Goose Leaves No Trace.
With everything properly set right, the figure in black left Li Banfeng's suite, returned to a room downstairs, changed clothes, and went to sleep first, planning to look for clues from Li Banfeng tomorrow.
***
At three in the morning, the gramophone was weeping inside the Portable Abode. "Shameless madman! You ate joy soil again and messed with your humble servant for three whole hours!"
Stroking her horn gently, Li Banfeng beamed. "My wife, wait while your husband goes to the outhouse. I'll be right back."
"What, you still want more?" Watching Li Banfeng's receding back, the gramophone trembled all over.
She turned and snatched Hong Ying in a tight grip. Hong Ying struggled frantically.
"Vicious woman, that's your man! Why are you tormenting me?"
"Bitch, didn't you grow an entrance? Leaving it unused is just as much of a waste!"
Li Banfeng returned to the suite and went to the bathroom to take a piss.
The glove floated around the room, then said to Li Banfeng, "Master, someone was in here."
Li Banfeng gave a start and hurriedly crawled under the bed to check the key.
The key was still in its spot. Li Banfeng let out a long sigh of relief.
The glove wagged its index finger. "No. The key isn't in its original spot. Someone moved it."
Li Banfeng considered his own observational skills quite sharp, and he hadn't noticed any difference, but he trusted the glove.
"Master, come take a walk with me."
Li Banfeng took the key and followed the glove out the door.
The glove searched along the corridor for a moment, then reached the stairwell.
Following the stairs down to the second floor, the glove signaled Li Banfeng to keep quiet. It moved down the hallway for a short while, then slipped into a room.
Two minutes later, the glove returned to Li Banfeng's pocket, and Li Banfeng brought the glove back up to his suite.
The glove said to Li Banfeng, "I've sorted that old rascal out. Master, you can rest easy."
Li Banfeng worried it might not be entirely safe, so he went back into the Portable Abode to notify the wife that he wouldn't be sleeping at home tonight.
The wife exhaled a long breath of relief and released Hong Ying.
Hong Ying sneered, "He ate joy soil—aren't you afraid he'll crawl into someone else's covers?"
"I'm not afraid. Anything is better than being worn out by him!" The gramophone said with lingering dread. "Once I have an entrance, perhaps life will be a bit easier."
"Didn't you say you could grow an entrance?"
The gramophone sighed deeply. "That's what is said, but where on earth are we going to get that drop of blood?"
***
Li Banfeng pocketed the key and went off to sleep in Jiang Mengting's room for the night.
Afraid Li Banfeng might catch cold, Jiang Mengting took off her own clothes to drape over him, then wrapped her arms tightly around him.
In winter, two people sleeping together was truly warm.
***
Before dawn the next day, Xie Juncong, Chief of the Ghost Hand Gate, opened his eyes, ready to make his move.
He had very important business to attend to today.
What business was it again?
Xie Juncong sat by the edge of the bed, unable to recall for the longest time.
Where was this place?
It seemed to be Xiaoyaowu.
Why did I come to Xiaoyaowu?
Xie Juncong looked around. He couldn't remember why he had arrived here.
He seemed to be missing a chunk of his memories.
*Knock, knock, knock.*
Someone was knocking on the door outside.
Xie Juncong gave a start. Just as he was trying to deduce who could be outside, the cleaning lady in charge of housekeeping at Xiaoyaowu pushed the door straight open and stepped in.
"Aiya! Shameless old bastard!" Seeing that Xie Juncong wasn't wearing any clothes, the woman quickly slammed the door shut.
Xie Juncong froze, only now realizing he was stark naked.
Where were his clothes?
His shoes?
His ring?
His feather?
Where were all those precious treasures he carried on him?
The woman outside was still shouting curses, and Xie Juncong scrambled to find a solution.
Where were the bedsheets?
The quilt?
Even a towel would do—just let him wrap something around himself first!
Chapter 402