Chapter 24: I Take Action

The residential complex offered some comfort to Thirteen Fei and introduced her to us, including Li Feng, who was meeting her for the first time as well. With such a beauty before me, I was naturally eager to get acquainted, and the complex’s introduction of me was full of praise. Thirteen Fei scrutinized me carefully, and as I shook her delicate hand, I was reluctant to let go—though Wang Tingting’s wolfish gaze bore into me, and she pinched me hard from behind.

When the complex spoke about me, Wang Tingting sneered and said, “Chang Feng has a very distinct trait that Fei sister should watch out for in the future.”

“What trait?” the complex and Thirteen Fei asked in unison, while Long Hongtao and Li Feng grew interested.

“The absolute number one playboy of the twenty-first century!”

Everyone burst into laughter, and the solemn air of the hospital ward dissipated entirely.

Perhaps our commotion triggered a response in Gangzi, whose pulse suddenly began to race, causing us all to worry. The complex anxiously explained, “We’ve called in the best doctors, but they can’t find where he’s hurt. He’s like a vegetative patient, but without those symptoms. Experts say it’s a transient coma, but I doubt it—those bastards from the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect wouldn’t use such mild methods. It’s been a whole day with no change, and I’m afraid of complications, so I asked Brother Chang Feng to come take a look.”

“Alright, let me see. Prepare a magnifying glass,” I said, lifting Gangzi’s shirt. Long Hongtao assisted, helping remove Gangzi’s upper garments, revealing his fair skin.

I asked Longtao to sit him up, and I examined his body as everyone watched my hands closely.

My forefinger traced from his neck down to his navel, examining both front and back. Using my finger as a guide, I searched for minute wounds, so everyone’s gaze followed my movements—if my eyesight failed, surely someone would spot something amiss.

Aside from using my finger to search for marks, I also employed a technique I’d learned as a child in Tibet from Darbu Lama—a tantric method called “Crossing Acupoints.” It’s akin to the martial arts technique of probing a body’s meridians with internal energy, though less potent, as those are fictional. The “Crossing Acupoints” method uses the sensitivity of the forefinger, channeling internal energy to its tip to sense the flow of blood beneath the skin, covering very small areas, requiring a thorough search across the body.

In truth, it’s not mysterious—similar to cupping or acupuncture, just with a different form. In winter, when your fingers touch your skin, you sometimes feel a static-like tingle; “Crossing Acupoints” focuses this sensation in the forefinger for easy use.

Aside from some old scars on Gangzi’s chest and back, everything felt normal. Unable to find anything, I straightened up and sighed, wondering what tricks the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect had played on Gangzi. Tang Xin had just had an accident, now Gangzi was in this state, and the issues in Xi’an remained unresolved—a string of troubles landing squarely on my shoulders.

Everyone remained silent, not wanting to disturb my thoughts. Perhaps Gangzi’s injury wasn’t visible, or maybe it was lower on his body—or perhaps there was no wound at all.

If there’s a wound, at least that’s something. If not, it’s much trickier.

“Has the magnifying glass arrived yet?” I asked the complex, feeling anxious.

“It’s on its way,” the complex replied.

I nodded, grabbed my phone, and stepped aside to call Old Ren to check on his situation.

Thirteen Fei and Wang Tingting stayed by Gangzi’s side, still searching for clues on his body.

When Old Ren answered, he sounded pleased to hear from me, though his tone carried heavy stress. Li Baoguo had left the institute soon after my departure, but his visit had provided Old Ren with valuable leads, making things easier for him. He was reassured that, after his report, higher-ups had sent a member of the Dragon Fang to assist him—a man Old Ren called Old Xu. Last year, when the national treasure “Transport Stone” was displayed in Hong Kong, Old Xu served as one of its bodyguards. During the exhibition, several countries’ spies and even the mafia tried to make a move, only to be “invited” away single-handedly by Old Xu.

Old Ren’s willingness to share this story showed his deep trust in me, for which I was grateful. I told him about the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect, as well as the events in Guangzhou, to see if their appearance there was related to the situation in Xi’an. At Academician Zhang’s death scene, there was a chrysanthemum petal, which made me suspect the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect, so I alerted Old Ren in advance so he could prepare.

The Nine Chrysanthemum Sect was generally considered a branch of the Yamaguchi-gumi, but in reality, it was quite different, though both served the Japanese right-wing Inuyama family. The Nine Chrysanthemum Sect was that family’s secret weapon, with very few members, but all were terrifying. Thankfully, they didn’t like to stir up trouble among ordinary people, or the world would be in chaos.

Ren Tianxing was stunned when he heard about the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect, then erupted in anger: “These Japanese are outrageous! Last time, Old Xu beat them back, but they haven’t learned. If they dare cause trouble in Xi’an, we’ll show them what’s what.”

From Old Ren’s tone, they’d clashed with the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect before. He warned me to be cautious of someone called “Yamamoto Takeshiro” if it really was the Nine Chrysanthemum Sect.

When Old Ren was in charge of the “Transport Stone” security in Hong Kong, he found not only spies from other countries targeting it, but also the infamous Yamaguchi-gumi and the mafia. To secure the exhibition, Old Ren used Interpol’s resources to focus on the Yamaguchi-gumi, discovering within it the mysterious Nine Chrysanthemum Sect. Interpol records indicated only one leader: Yamamoto Takeshiro.

After exchanging views with Old Ren, I hung up. A bodyguard delivered the magnifying glass.

I began examining Gangzi’s eyes. Eyes are the window to a person—I hoped to find some clue there. Aside from some bloodshot veins, his pupils were normal, with no abnormal dilation or contraction. Clearly, Gangzi’s condition was serious.

My expression suddenly grew grave; Thirteen Fei noticed and anxiously asked, “How is Gangzi?”

I shook my head, not answering, and continued checking his body with the magnifying glass. Thirteen Fei wanted to ask more, but the complex stopped her.

The magnifying glass was a medical-grade instrument, so its magnification was much higher than those sold in stores. After examining the front, I found nothing. Wang Tingting followed, her gaze as focused as mine on the lens. When I moved to the back, at the base of the neck, I finally found a faint mark. Wang Tingting couldn’t help but exclaim, drawing everyone over to look. Long Hongtao, true to his special forces background, showed remarkable patience, supporting Gangzi for over ten minutes, his hands aching and sweating, yet he persisted. Seeing Wang’s excitement, he too became animated.

Without the magnifying glass, the mark at the base of Gangzi’s neck would have been impossible to spot—almost the color of flesh, only discernible under careful inspection as a coin-sized circular mark, slightly lighter than the surrounding skin. Clearly, this was related to Gangzi’s problem.

I asked them to prepare a pot of hot water, a fire cup, and a bowl of saline made with table salt, not medical salt. Then, I requested a piece of red cloth. All sources of light in the special ward were covered with red cloth, making the room feel like a darkroom.

Fortunately, we were in the city, with vehicles and easy access to supplies. Within minutes, everything was ready. The bodyguards swiftly draped the windows and doors with cloth. I instructed them to guard outside, allowing no one to enter without our orders.

The complex and I had known each other for a while; he was used to my eccentric discussions with Old Gu, so he wasn’t surprised. Li Feng and Long Hongtao, new acquaintances, had questions but were too polite to ask. Wang Tingting, knowing my ways, trusted I’d explain what I could. Thirteen Fei, meeting me for the first time, was smart enough to watch quietly, seeing how the others respected me.

I asked Long Hongtao to lay Gangzi face-down on the bed. Taking the fire cup, I crumpled a sheet of paper. Wang Tingting watched intently, her bright eyes fixed on me. I smiled slightly and said, “Let me show you our Chinese martial arts—Azure Dragon Drinking Water.”

In the martial arts novels of Jin Yong, the “Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms” includes a move called “Twin Dragons Drinking Water,” but mine was the Azure Dragon Drinking Water.

I crumpled the paper in my fingers, forming a secret hand seal, concentrated my mind, and uttered the word “ignite.” The paper flared up without a flame. I tossed it into the fire cup.

Everyone was amazed—the paper had ignited without any external fire, something only magicians could do, they thought.

Wang Tingting exclaimed, “Heart Fire!” I nodded; it was a rare technique I’d just learned from Old Gu. Her mention of “Heart Fire” drew everyone’s attention, making her quite pleased. But perhaps my “Azure Dragon Drinking Water” was even more intriguing to them.

After the paper burned, I placed my right palm over the fire cup’s mouth, moving it back and forth. The smoke generated by the burning paper was held firmly inside by a force from my palm, unable to escape. The fire cup was inverted, its mouth uncovered, yet the vapor stayed inside, astonishing everyone even more.

When the timing was right, I lifted my hand, pressed my left wrist firmly, mentally forming a solar seal and silently reciting the Great Sun Tathagata mantra.

Suddenly, a force surged into the fire cup’s mouth, and the white smoke inside spun like a whirlpool, forming a wind eye and spinning rapidly. The smoke darkened as it whirled. The fire cup’s mouth faced the kettle of hot water, and a powerful suction burst forth.

The hot water in the kettle condensed into a column and was drawn into the fire cup. The cup, barely palm-sized, absorbed more water than its volume by tenfold. The swirling smoke resembled a dragon opening its mouth and swallowing the water.

Everyone gasped in awe. I ignored their reactions. In the final moment of “Azure Dragon Drinking Water,” as the last drop was sucked in, I immediately steadied Gangzi. Then, with a forceful motion, I “covered” the fire cup onto the center of Gangzi’s back, between the shoulder blades.

The cup adhered tightly to his skin, reddening the surrounding area. The hot water inside worked through the skin, permeating every inch of his back, turning the skin flush with energy. The circular mark at the base of the neck was now clearly revealed.

The mark appeared like an ancient coin, round with a square hole in the center. I was taken aback—it was the “Coin Curse.”

From the first moment I saw Gangzi in this ward, I suspected he was wounded by the Coin Curse, but as I’d only heard of it and never seen it, I dared not assume. Step by step, I confirmed my suspicion—now, at last, I could be certain.