Chapter Twenty-Three: The Sect of Nine Chrysanthemums

From Gangding to Victoria Plaza was less than a five-minute drive, but since it was rush hour and the roads were jammed, even without traffic, the sheer number of cars meant it took nearly ten minutes. Victoria Plaza itself was not large; across from it stood Tianhe City Mall, and beside it, a book center. The "Tianhong Building," a tower over forty stories tall in Victoria Plaza, housed the main headquarters of the Hongmen society.

Hongmen occupied the top three floors of this building. Before entering, I called the community office, then went straight up. Wang Tingting accompanied me into the office. Inside hung a large plaque inscribed with four golden characters: "Righteousness Under Heaven and Earth."

Besides the old chief, there were two guests present—Li Feng and Long Hongtao, whom I had met at the airport. I nodded and smiled to greet them, and they both stood and nodded back, though their faces were clouded with worry. I glanced at the old chief, who, for once, was silent. The atmosphere grew heavy, so much so that even lively Wang Tingting sensed something unusual.

It wasn't that they didn't want to speak; they simply didn't know where to begin. After about a minute, I broke the silence. "Chief, a coffee, please," I said, trying to lighten the mood. Wang Tingting burst into laughter. Who else would dare treat the old chief as a waiter, asking him to serve coffee? Li Feng and Long Hongtao also relaxed a little at my joke.

I hadn't intended for the chief to actually make the coffee; I just wanted to break the tension. But he dutifully brewed me a cup, making me feel a bit embarrassed. Still, since he'd already done it, I couldn't refuse and lose face, so I pretended to enjoy it.

But I knew this cup of coffee would come at a price—not because the coffee wasn't good, but because it meant something serious was about to be asked of me. Sure enough, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, the old chief spoke: "Brother Changfeng, we've run into trouble."

I kept silent, weighing the situation; for someone of his stature to be in trouble, it must be something thorny indeed. My silence signaled that they should tell me what was going on and how I could help.

Wang Tingting, however, spoke up for me. She asked in surprise, "Even the head of Hongmen has trouble? I wonder if we're even capable of helping."

She had a point. Hongmen's reach and resources were vast; even prominent officials sought the chief's favor. Compared to him, I was a mere civilian. If anyone needed help, it was usually me.

The old chief, perceptive as always, chuckled and scratched his head. "You're joking, Miss Wang. If it were an ordinary thing, I'd never dare trouble Brother Changfeng."

Li Feng then added, "A friend of mine is in trouble. I hope Brother Changfeng can lend a hand."

I had a good impression of Li Feng, though I didn't know him well. If someone like the old chief would meet him personally, and the president of Xinghua Society in America would go out of his way to provide him protection, he was certainly no ordinary man. Whether it was the old chief or President Huang, either could shake the city with a word. Li Feng appeared shrewd yet upright; when I met him at the airport, I felt an instant camaraderie.

They looked a bit disappointed at my silence, so I spoke up: "If both Brother Li and Brother Long ask for my help, how could I refuse? Besides, with the chief here, even if it's a pit of fire, I have to jump in."

The old chief laughed heartily. "I knew Brother Changfeng wouldn't stand by. But this time, it's even scarier than a pit of fire." He shot a glance at Long Hongtao.

Long Hongtao hesitated, then handed me an object he had with him. I took it and saw it was a silver medallion, shaped like a flower—more precisely, nine chrysanthemums: one large, surrounded by eight smaller ones forming the petals. It seemed familiar but I couldn't quite place it.

Wang Tingting leaned in, puzzled. "Why a chrysanthemum?"

At the mention of chrysanthemums, Wang Tingting and I exchanged glances. At the scene of Academician Zhang's death in Xi'an, there had also been a chrysanthemum petal. I had discussed the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect with Gu Jing; now, the same symbol appeared again.

Li Feng, seeing our surprise, explained, "To be precise, there are nine chrysanthemums, with eight finely crafted inside."

The old chief took a deep breath. "Nine Chrysanthemums... Nine Chrysanthemums..." His voice was heavy. Wang Tingting turned her bright eyes on him and asked, "What does Nine Chrysanthemums mean?"

Her question prompted the three men to exchange glances. I recalled what Gu Jing had told me and ventured, "Could it be the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect?"

"So Brother Changfeng knows that sect too?" Li Feng said, emphasizing "too," which meant they also knew something about it. Wang Tingting stared at me, baffled.

I had no choice but to relay what I had heard from Gu Jing about the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect.

Wang Tingting was so shocked her mouth could have fit a bun. I couldn't help but laugh and tap her on the head. "Silly girl, where's your courage from fighting the Japanese? It's just the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect; no need to be so scared."

"I'm not scared," she replied, "I'd fight them if they came. It's just you all make them sound so mysterious, like that Li Baoguo. I'd like to see what they really look like." Then, with a flip of her eyelids, she asked, "Where did this come from?"

I was about to ask the same; she saved me the trouble.

The old chief sighed, his voice grave. "Gangzi was clutching this when he had his accident. He's in the hospital now."

"Gangzi!" I was stunned to hear Gangzi was in trouble, and that this object came from him. "How is he?" I asked anxiously.

"That's why I called you here," the chief replied helplessly.

Li Feng apologized, "If Gangzi hadn't been helping me gather information, he wouldn't be in this state. Now he's in the hospital, and we're at a loss. I feel terrible—it's all my fault."

Previously, I had wanted to find Gangzi at Shangxiajiu with Wang Tingting. Now, hearing he was in the hospital, I grew even more anxious.

Suddenly, the old chief's face darkened with rage. "Those damned Japanese... If anything happens to Gangzi, I'll make them pay with their lives. Yamaguchi-gumi, Higashikawa-kai—I’ll make them Yamaguchi-pigs and Higashikawa-dogs!"

At the mention of the Japanese, Li Feng and Long Hongtao grew even angrier. Li Feng said coldly, "Inukai, I'll make you pay a hundredfold for what you've done."

Now I understood why the old chief was so close to Li Feng—he was a typical patriot, passionate to the point of obsession. For example, a recent major project could have earned him tens of millions if he'd partnered with the Japanese, but upon hearing they were involved, he lost all interest and used every means to edge them out, calling it "modern patriotic methods." Whenever the Japanese tried to establish themselves in Guangzhou, he would spare no expense to drive them out.

Li Feng, it seemed, shared this sentiment. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together.

I promised to do all I could to help, which moved them deeply. If I had known Gangzi was in trouble, I would have helped even without being asked.

The five of us hurried downstairs and headed straight for the hospital, accompanied by bodyguards in two cars before and after us.

In the car, I learned the cause of Gangzi's trouble. Long Hongtao was Li Feng's personal bodyguard, a former special forces soldier who had willingly followed Li Feng after witnessing his character. Before coming to Guangzhou, Li Feng had contacted Gangzi for help investigating Yamaguchi-gumi's activities in the city.

President Huang of Xinghua Society knew that Li Feng had cost the Inukai family hundreds of millions in Japan, and in retaliation, they had sent Yamaguchi-gumi's top assassins after him. But those assassins were beaten back by Xinghua Society in America, and in Beijing, Li Feng’s old man ensured his safety. Shanghai was his hometown, and with Long Hongtao as security, there was little risk. But this time, he was stopping in Guangzhou en route to Japan to gather information on Inukai and meet up with Gangzi.

Of all the people I knew, only a few truly impressed me: Gu Jing, the old chief, and Gangzi. Gangzi lacked Gu Jing's skills and the chief's power, but he was unique. His profession, as old as time—he sold information.

Gangzi was nicknamed "Mangy Gangzi." Only a few old friends dared call him that now; even the deputy chief of the Public Security Bureau addressed him respectfully as Gangzi or Brother Gang. No one knew where he learned his craft, but if you wanted information and could pay, he would find it, and it would always be reliable. Years ago, during the Shenyang serial killer case, where a madman had killed twenty-one people, the police had offered half a million for his whereabouts for over a decade with no result. When a new officer took charge, Gangzi contacted him, saying that for a million, he'd find the killer in half a day.

Naturally, the new officer was skeptical; a million was a huge sum for the police, and Gangzi wasn't yet famous. So the officer agreed to pay only after he delivered. Less than half a day later, Gangzi provided the killer's address and appearance. The officer caught the killer based on this information and only then remembered the million, breaking out in a cold sweat. When he tried to renege, Gangzi sent him a file detailing every key event in his life—including his first time with his girlfriend, her name, and current whereabouts.

Gangzi had sent the file not for the money, but to scare the officer and build his own reputation. In the end, the officer didn't have to pay, but announced at a press conference that the information came from Gangzi.

With coverage in newspapers and magazines, Gangzi’s fame soared. More and more people sought his help, and his prices rose accordingly. But his information was always worth the cost—anyone who paid was satisfied.

As business flourished, so did the number of his enemies. Both the underworld and the authorities wanted to find him, but after more than ten years, not a trace had been seen. I had wanted to find him myself, to help me investigate Tang Xin.

Gangzi was in a special hospital room—one not just anyone could afford, with a five-thousand-a-day rate enough to scare most people off. This was nothing to the old chief. It was the best room—quiet and private. When we saw Gangzi, he was lying in bed, wearing an oxygen mask.

Li Feng sat quietly by the bed and said in a low voice, "Gangzi’s illness is strange. The doctors can't find a cause, but he’s unresponsive, like a vegetative state."

I went over and checked his pulse. It was normal, just a bit weaker than usual. The others stayed silent, not wanting to disturb me.

The pulse was a little light, but otherwise normal. As I checked, I called out, "Gangzi, Gangzi, it's me, Changfeng. Can you hear me?"

If he had any awareness, he'd react. Sure enough, as soon as I spoke, his pulse quickened. I was excited—any response meant he wasn’t in mortal danger.

"Chief, take off his shirt. I need to check him for injuries," I said. I wanted to look for any marks on his body.

Just as I finished speaking, the door suddenly swung open. In walked a striking woman—sunglasses, leather vest, and a well-endowed figure tightly clad. Stylish, yes, but she also held a bouquet of flowers.

Perhaps our presence surprised her. "Who are you? Oh, Chief, you’re here too!"

"Thirteen Fei, your news is fast," the chief joked, eyes locked on her chest.

So her name was Thirteen Fei, though I'd never heard Gangzi mention her. I gave her another look. Her beauty was different from Wang Tingting's—Tingting was the gentle type, lively in character; Thirteen Fei was cold, tall, and striking.

She said coldly, "If something happens to Brother Gang, how could I not come? Whoever dared lay a hand on him, I’ll cut off their hands and feet." She ignored us, went straight to Gangzi, and tried to rouse him, "Brother Gang, are you alright?"

"He won't wake up for now," I said quietly.

"Won't wake up?" she snapped, furious. "Are all the doctors here useless? We paid good money! The chief doctor yesterday boasted so much—I'll carve him up."

I hadn't expected such a beauty to speak so roughly; she was clearly not to be trifled with. The old chief quickly stopped her, "Alright, alright, calm down. If the doctor really was at fault, do you think I’d still be standing here?"

Thirteen Fei thought it over—if the chief was still around, things must not be that bad. She calmed down and asked, "Who did it? Was it Scarface from Baiyun? I should have chopped him up when I had the chance."

"The Nine Chrysanthemum Sect," Long Hongtao said succinctly.

"The Nine Chrysanthemum Sect?" Thirteen Fei was surprised. "When did that sect appear?"

"Never heard of the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect? But you must have heard of Yamaguchi-gumi," I offered.

The old chief's face turned grim. "Yamaguchi-gumi has been trying to find Gangzi for years, but I’ve always blocked them. They must have a secret base in Guangzhou—I can’t find it yet, or they wouldn’t be so bold."

At the mention of Yamaguchi-gumi, Thirteen Fei calmed down. That syndicate was infamous worldwide, a right-wing Japanese organization notorious for assassination. Even other criminal organizations avoided them due to their ruthless tactics and vast resources.

"Chief, when you move, count me in," Thirteen Fei said coldly, like a female harbinger of doom.