Chapter Seventeen: The People from Dragon Fang Have Arrived

Page 1/3

Old Liu, at least, knew when to be tactful; seeing that I was somewhat indisposed, he took his leave. For him, this trip was not in vain—he had uncovered clues and formed some preliminary conclusions.

But Wang Tingting was not so easy to deal with. She saw me answer the phone and knew something exciting was happening—how could she let herself miss out? I used all my strength to push her out the door but failed, ending up drenched in sweat. She made it clear: if I didn’t tell her what was going on, she simply wouldn’t leave and would stay here all night.

Left with no other choice, I instead invited her in to sit. I locked the door, took off my clothes and trousers, pretending I was about to take a shower. If she insisted on staying, then she could sleep here tonight. After all, back in Guangzhou, she and Mrs. Wang had told people she was my girlfriend.

I had barely taken off my trousers when she shrieked “Pervert!” and bolted faster than anyone I’d ever seen. With a bang, the door slammed behind her—so quickly I didn’t even see how she’d opened it.

After a sleepless night, I filled the tub with hot water, soaking as I relaxed and thought things through. I never missed a chance to unwind. After a full day on the plane and another dozen hours of running around, I was exhausted.

The warmth of the water and the steam released every cell in my body, and my tense mind finally relaxed. Thoughts drifted to Academician Zhang. Suppose, for a moment, that his death was the work of an assassin. Such a killer would have to be experienced—someone who could evade Ren’s men and kill without leaving a trace. What was their motive? To inflict three kinds of death—broken neck, electric shock, and fright—within less than a second? Unless there was deep hatred, why such cruelty?

Moreover, the ability to slip past the guards and kill without a trace—killers of that caliber are exceedingly rare. Then, there was the chrysanthemum petal left on the windowsill and the lingering scent of flowers in the room. Could it have been a woman? Only women tend to love flowers. If the killer was female, the suspect pool would be halved.

I picked up the phone by the bathtub, called the front desk, and asked them to transfer me to Ren’s cell. I shared my thoughts with him, suggesting he use Interpol’s resources to sift through internationally known assassins and see if any clues turned up.

Ren agreed with my assessment and thanked me profusely, then added, “If it truly is a top-tier assassin, Interpol’s information will be limited. They may be able to identify the individual, but detailed background files are rare.”

I completely agreed. The more formidable someone is, the less likely they are to reveal their true identity. Many so-called famous assassins are manufactured by their organizations for self-promotion or to mislead the police. The real masters remain hidden in the shadows.

Gu Jing’s phone call during my relaxation made me worry for Tang Xin. It seemed the institute’s business wouldn’t be resolved quickly, so I told Ren I’d need to return to Guangzhou for a while.

I didn’t specify why I needed to return, but after this collaboration, Ren no longer saw me as a hollow reputation. He trusted me, much like Old Liu did. As for my reasons, he didn’t inquire—he knew I wouldn’t leave unless it was urgent.

Before hanging up, he told me that, if possible, I should wait until the afternoon to leave. In the morning, a certain individual would arrive who might offer new insight into Academician Zhang’s death.

From his tone, it was clear he admired and perhaps even feared this visitor. When he finally revealed the name—Li Baoguo—I was taken aback.

Li Baoguo was not a famous figure; in fact, he was virtually unknown to the public, not a legendary detective. But for people like me, his name was well known. He was considered a national treasure—born with special abilities, though not invulnerability, nor could he generate electricity with his hands or see through walls. Rather, his intuition—his sixth sense—was extraordinary.

It was said that as a child, he once stood up before the end of class and told his teacher to bring hemostatic medicine upon leaving. The teacher thought he was crazy, but sure enough, leaving school that day, the teacher was struck by falling construction debris nearby. Bleeding heavily, and unable to stop it in time, he died. From then on, everything Li Baoguo predicted came true.

Those with such abilities are always monitored by the state. They are called “national treasures,” raised from childhood to be patriotic and serve the people, while their abilities are continually studied and refined. These individuals are managed by the Dragon Fang organization. Not just our country—America, Britain, Russia, Japan—had begun similar research after World War II. In Japan’s notorious criminal syndicate, the Yamaguchi-gumi, it was said that several such gifted individuals were deliberately embedded.

I didn’t know Li Baoguo’s exact role in Dragon Fang, but his presence here was certainly significant.

I was intrigued to finally meet this legendary man and see what he was capable of.

Unwittingly, I fell asleep in the bathtub. It was past nine in the morning when Wang Tingting came looking for me. Not finding me in bed, she called out a few times and, upon seeing me motionless in the tub, she panicked—given Academician Zhang’s mysterious murder, she thought I might be the next target. Her scream startled me from my dreams.

That scream was truly terrifying—I can still hear the echo in my ears. I thought I was waking up in my bed, dazed. When Wang Tingting saw me stand up naked, she blushed furiously, shrieked again, and bolted from the room.

Page 2/3

The second scream made me realize just how “open” I’d been with her. Fortunately, the hot water kept me from catching a cold. After rinsing off, I put on a new suit and made a point of dressing well.

The new suit was an Apple brand I’d bought on Beijing Road before coming to Xi’an. It was expensive, but since I didn’t pay for it myself, I hardly cared. You get what you pay for—brand name clothes really do feel different.

I wore the suit, but instead of a dress shirt, I had on a simple white T-shirt underneath. It was less formal but still presentable, a touch solemn yet mostly comfortable.

Wang Tingting was in Xi’an as my assistant. Presumably, she’d already been informed about Li Baoguo’s arrival, hence she came looking for me.

After tidying up, I went across the hall to fetch her. When she opened the door and saw me, she hesitated, remembering she’d just seen all of me. Her pretty face flushed crimson, and she said nothing.

Stepping inside, I teased, “You got a good look today—next time, I’ll have to settle the score.”

“People keep dying—why isn’t it you?” she retorted, feigning annoyance before changing the subject. “Surprised to see you actually look half-human today.”

“What do you mean, ‘half-human’?” I replied, proud of myself. “I’ve always been this handsome.”

She rolled her big eyes and pouted, “Really? Maybe my nearsightedness is a blessing—I’ve saved a lot on phone bills.”

I was puzzled. “What does that have to do with phone bills?”

“If my eyesight were good, I’d be calling the zoo every day to have them pick up the escaped orangutan.”

“You—” Her jibe left me speechless. After a pause, I conceded, “Fine, a gentleman doesn’t argue with a lady. Pack up, we’re heading back to Guangzhou this afternoon.”

“Back to Guangzhou?” Wang Tingting was surprised at the sudden decision. “Huang Feng just called—there’s an important guest. If we have time, we could go meet him. They’re at Academician Zhang’s scene now.”

Since we were here, we might as well see for ourselves. I led Wang Tingting toward Zhang’s residence.

The security guards at the door were the same as yesterday, so they recognized me. After radioing Ren, they let us in with great courtesy, though their eyes lingered on Wang Tingting.

Women always love to be admired—vanity is powerful. Wang Tingting was clearly pleased, even glancing smugly at me. I snorted, “Vain!”

Inside, Ren introduced us to the assembled group. The others were the same as yesterday. Old Liu looked tired, with bloodshot eyes. I was especially curious about Li Baoguo, so I studied him closely.

Li Baoguo looked the quintessential Chinese man: a broad, square face, clean-shaven, fair-skinned, in a traditional Zhongshan suit—very proper. His thick, neat eyebrows gave him an air of maturity. After exchanging polite greetings, I kept my eyes on him.

He returned my gaze. Before our handshake, he seemed unremarkable—just an educated man of some culture and refinement. But after we shook hands, he changed entirely: his eyes grew deep and penetrating, offering no reflection of myself, but instead a gaze that made me uneasy. It was like a father staring at a child who had stolen money, saying nothing but making him squirm with guilt.

I felt just like that guilty child. Uncomfortable, I withdrew my hand, and he spoke: “Mr. Wanyan, you have quite a presence.”

The fact that he could immediately state my surname startled me. Only Wang Tingting, Ren, Old Liu, Dr. Wang, and Old Du knew it—Old Liu had only mentioned it in passing over drinks the night before.

As I stared in astonishment, Ren patted me on the shoulder. “With Master Li’s abilities, it’s not hard to know what you’re thinking.”

At his words, cold sweat broke out on my back. If Li Baoguo could learn anything he wanted from a mere handshake, then anyone he touched would have no secrets left.

Fortunately, there aren’t many like him—or the world would be in chaos.

But then, if there were many such people, he wouldn’t be a national treasure. With such abilities, he could be of immense help in solving cases.

Page 3/3

“Mr. Li, what are your thoughts on Academician Zhang’s death?” Since he had such abilities, and had arrived before me, I assumed he’d already discovered something.

Li Baoguo smiled lightly. “The killer is not human!”

His words caused an uproar among us. Not human—what was it? A ghost? A monster? A demon?

He went on, “Not an ordinary human.”

With that, everyone relaxed. “Not ordinary, but still human—that’s manageable,” Wang Tingting blurted out.

Everyone seemed to agree, nodding subtly at her words.

I asked, “Mr. Li, what exactly do you mean by ‘not ordinary’?”

Dr. Wang and Old Du glanced at me, as if my question was redundant. But Old Liu and Ren seemed to appreciate it—they probably had the same question, but I’d asked it first.

Li Baoguo modestly answered, “Not ordinary just means unusual—special. I’ll be relying on you, Mr. Wanyan, for what comes next.”

Feigning ignorance, I replied, “To kill Academician Zhang without anyone noticing, the murderer must be extraordinary. This is clearly Ren’s area of expertise.”

Wang Tingting and Old Liu realized I was deliberately changing the subject. Ren, sharp as ever, noticed as well but said nothing.

Li Baoguo, not wanting to embarrass me, continued, “The perpetrator moved lightly, almost weightlessly. Judging by the strength used and the scene itself, the killer was about 1.5 meters tall, male, but with the scent of chrysanthemums. So, if you find someone who smells of chrysanthemums, see if he uses that perfume.” He mused, “What kind of man, so short, would wear perfume?”

That seemed to be all the information Li Baoguo could provide on this visit. Yet, he had deduced the killer’s height, weight, and even preferences—quite impressive. I could only judge the assassin’s skill, but he could describe the perpetrator in detail.

Wang Tingting burst out laughing. “A man only 1.5 meters tall is basically severely disabled, and if he wears perfume, he must be a pervert. But Mr. Li, you said he was almost weightless—what do you mean by ‘almost’? Even a one-meter-tall child weighs something.”

Li Baoguo ignored her mockery, instead pondering her words and asking us, “Who can tell me what has no weight?”

Who has no weight? That was a strange question. The disabled? The elderly? Women, children, men—everyone has weight. Even a newborn is light but not weightless, and a baby couldn’t be a killer.

The question stumped us all. Everyone suggested possibilities but dismissed them immediately.

What kind of person has no weight?

Dr. Wang, with his broad knowledge, spoke up. He recalled that during archaeological research in Egypt, a foreign institution had unearthed the corpse of a dwarf. This dwarf was quite unusual—well-proportioned, apparently born that way, not stunted by malnutrition.

Such dwarfs were only described in fairy tales, like the Seven Dwarfs, but those were just stories. Even Dr. Wang dismissed his own suggestion.

Though Li Baoguo couldn’t provide more specifics, Ren was already satisfied. Having clues made things much easier—before I arrived, they had almost nothing to go on.

Li Baoguo’s unsettling abilities made me uneasy. I wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, lest I be left with no secrets. So, I took the opportunity to slip away, since I was leaving that afternoon.