By this hour, the kitchen had long since shut down. Only a scattering of night-shift workers remained to clean up the mess, heads drooping and eyes heavy with sleep, going about their work lazily. None of them noticed a figure silently slipping into the pantry and making off with a large bottle of cucumber-lemon water.
Yan Xiaodao was meticulous by nature. He pinched a little salt from the nearby bottles and jars of oil, salt, sauces, and seasonings, then added a small pinch of sugar and dissolved both into the lemon water.
Master Qi had said to keep the man alive. He wanted him brought back breathing.
Yan Xiaodao was only afraid the man would not last much longer.
Soaking in seawater without food or drink, hunger was the lesser problem. He had to be desperately thirsty and dehydrated by now.
The wind over the sea drove the waves straight at him, and flying spray quickly soaked through the tight black night clothes wrapped around his body. The closer he descended toward the water, the more violently he felt the ship pitching. The cruise liner rose and fell in an almost steady rhythm as it forged ahead, making it practically impossible to keep his balance against the side of the hull.
Yan Xiaodao suspended himself beside the ship with a climbing rope and lowered himself through the wind and waves until he was only about two meters above the top of the iron cage. He planted one foot against a wrist-thick steel cable on the side facing the incoming waves, meeting force with force and using that foot as a brace to hold himself against the cable above the cage.
Seen from far out at sea, a human silhouette would have appeared to be hanging outside the ship, swaying in the wind—a perilous sight.
Yan Xiaodao narrowed his eyes and looked down. Everything was shaking violently, but with the help of the two perfectly angled beams of light, he managed to spot the big fish inside the suspended cage. By now he knew there was no way he could rescue the man tonight. It was simply too difficult!
He figured that because of the angle of the light, the man inside the cage would actually have trouble seeing him while looking from the illuminated area into darkness. Yan Xiaodao’s body happened to be concealed in the blind patch of shadow beyond the lights.
A safety rope was secured around his waist, freeing both his hands to prepare what he had brought. When he looked down again, he found himself staring directly into those eyes in the cage for the second time!
The other man was staring back without blinking. Even as he struggled and drifted amid the raging waves, he kept his head raised high, black hair spilling wantonly across the water like the phantom of some water demon tossed through a whirlpool. His two piercing beams of sight seemed capable of cleaving through the waves themselves, stripping aside layer after layer of mist and white foam to scrutinize Yan Xiaodao’s every movement.
Yan Xiaodao had just stepped onto the steel cable to brace himself. The moment he put weight on it, the man below had felt the slight vibration and sensed the presence of that heavy patch of darkness above him.
This time, there was no thick porthole separating their gazes.
The two crossing beams of light created a scene both uncanny and breathtakingly beautiful. For the first time in his life, Yan Xiaodao saw the man’s face clearly.
From this angle, the man’s face seemed to burst straight out of the dark, breaking waves and into Yan Xiaodao’s vision…. His features were as exquisite as paper-thin fine bone china, sharply defined, his brows and eyes picturesque. His torn-open collar exposed both collarbones and a glimpse of honey-toned chest beneath. The man had long phoenix eyes, their outer corners slightly raised, with both brows and eyes sweeping toward his temples. His lips were parted not because he meant to speak, but because he was seizing the precious gaps between waves to drag in a few rough breaths of air. Yet there was no trace of exhaustion or fear on his face. He merely watched Yan Xiaodao coldly, assessing what he intended to do.
A sentence his godfather had once told him inexplicably echoed through Yan Xiaodao’s mind.
The moment you see that person, you’ll know it’s him. There’s no way you’ll mistake him.
＊
Yan Xiaodao tied a bag of lemon water to a thin cord. On such short notice, this extremely crude method was the only thing he could think of.
He slowly lowered the cord toward the man’s head and threaded it through the bars of the iron cage. Along the way, the waves battered the bag until it was nearly knocked apart.
The man below was no fool either. He immediately understood what Yan Xiaodao was trying to do, and just as the bag of lemon water neared his head, he suddenly swung himself upward and bit it open.
The crude water pouch had been made from a clear plastic kitchen bag. One bite was enough to split it.
The instant the pouch burst, the water poured all over the man’s face, drenching him from head to toe. Who knew how much made it into his mouth and how much he inhaled into his lungs. When the next wave struck, even that proud face was helplessly forced beneath the water again. Yan Xiaodao realized then that the man could not use his lower body at all. Those conspicuously long legs simply floated there like two useless pieces of deadwood getting in his way. He could only try to grip the iron chains with his hands and haul himself upward, but how could he possibly climb?
Yan Xiaodao lowered another piece of cake and another bag of lemon water. However much the man managed to eat or drink would have to do. Yan Xiaodao truly had done everything he could.
This time even more of it spilled, and the man was forced to swallow a mouthful of salty seawater as well, coughing so violently he nearly hacked up a lung. The veins along his forehead and neck visibly tightened and bulged. He really did look rather pitiful.
Yan Xiaodao casually made an apologetic gesture that said there was nothing more he could do. The man below glared up at him with a mixture of anger, resentment, and wounded indignation, as though complaining outright: If you’re this useless, you might as well not have come!
That glare had quite a force behind it. Yan Xiaodao’s bracing foot slipped immediately, throwing him out of control. The tremendous centrifugal force of the rope flung him outward before swinging him back again, his back slamming into the steel hull hard enough to send an entire ring of bright arcs dancing across his vision in the darkness….
Now it was the man below watching the man above struggle and gasp for breath. The handsome prisoner gave a slight shake of his head and bestowed an enormous eye roll upon Mr. Yan.
Climbing cliffs, scaling walls, and scrambling up and down ropes really were not among Mr. Yan’s specialties. Every trade had its expertise, and everyone had strengths and weaknesses. If what he needed to do was cut through the steel cables beneath his feet and send the whole iron cage plunging to the seabed to feed the fish, that would have been easy—one rise and fall of the blade. But rescuing the man inside the cage and hauling him aboard? Impossible. Yan Xiaodao did not have three heads and six arms.
Yan Xiaodao did not do good deeds in hopes of repayment. He was only trying to keep this man breathing; there was no deeper compassion for all suffering creatures involved. And the person he was dealing with did not seem likely to be the warm, pleasant sort who gratefully repaid kindness. Perhaps captivity had simply left him in a foul mood, because he had not given Yan Xiaodao a single friendly look.
That gaze was as pitch-black and icy as the seawater. His thin lips carried hints of disdain and cutting sharpness, and even through the mist he radiated an arrogance that refused to be beaten down.
Beautiful and fierce. Yan Xiaodao was inexplicably shaken for a moment.
Under the lights, the man’s brows and eyes seemed to flash with a greenish jade glow. Yan Xiaodao figured his eyes were playing tricks on him. It should have been the seawater under the fishing lamps that was reflecting that deep green color.
＊
By the next day, the cruise deck had returned to a peaceful atmosphere of drinking and singing. From close to noon onward, music, laughter, and flirtatious voices slowly drifted upward past ten floors of guest rooms, blending into the pleasant violin music of the open-air café.
Yan Xiaodao yawned repeatedly as he walked, shaking the gold watch on his wrist and flicking out the legs of his suit trousers while complaining to Liang Youhui that the theater upstairs had been so noisy the night before he had barely slept. “Sounded like a whole damn crowd firing cannons together!”
“They were firing cannons together!” Liang Youhui replied suggestively.
A faint smile rested on Yan Xiaodao’s lips, his gaze unreadable. “You spend the whole night fooling around with that tagged Mount Fuji Song-and-Dance Troupe? All that ding-ding-dong-dong singing and dancing in the theater over my head—were you in there too?”
“Huh? Noooo—” Liang Youhui was too embarrassed to admit that the little demon named Dick Junichiro had kept him occupied in his room the night before. He instinctively knew Yan Xiaodao disliked Watanabe Yangshan’s army of little demons. Yan Xiaodao somehow inspired respect, affection, and fear in him all at once. The man was right there within reach, yet Liang could never seem to find a shortcut that would let him get any closer.
A server carrying a tray spun theatrically past them across the deck, and Yan Xiaodao casually took a glass of freshly mixed iced cucumber-and-lemon water.
Only after taking it did he realize what it was…. Something stirred inside him, and he quickly took a sip. Bland as hell. It really did not taste like much.
Far away at the rail near the very stern, two dark-skinned Southeast Asian island workers had dragged out one of the hoses used for washing the deck. They pulled it all the way over the side, aimed it downward at something, and burst into unrestrained laughter.
Guests who knew nothing about the situation would never pay particular attention to the object being towed in the water behind the ship.
Yan Xiaodao knew what those workers were spraying with the hose. Their laughter was full of humiliation and malicious delight.
Although he was displeased, Yan Xiaodao did nothing in the middle of the crowd. At least the cool water from the hose could keep the man alert, and he might manage to swallow a few mouthfuls so he would not die of thirst under the punishing midday sun….
Before long, at noon that day, they finally arrived at the farthest stop on the route: Yilulifu Island, a place of paradise-like beauty veiled in breathtaking splendor.
Most of the surrounding islands had already been overdeveloped and overrun by bustling tour groups from home. They were as crowded as Jiuzhaigou during the seven-day National Day holiday, essentially nothing more than exceptionally scenic open-air markets and therefore thoroughly uninteresting. Yilulifu Island alone had been sectioned off separately, preserving as much of its quiet, untouched island appearance as possible while taking luxury and extravagance in its resort facilities to the utmost extreme.
The island was privately developed and reserved exclusively for distinguished guests. Ordinary tourists were shut out yet again. Only that way could the place maintain its pretentious level of exclusivity and attract the special attention of the upper classes.
Because Yan Xiaodao had been watching for one particular thing, he naturally noticed immediately when dock workers, under the direction of several staff members, began unloading cargo and brought the cage crudely covered in torn black cloth ashore.
Mr. Yan strode easily forward. As he stepped across the gangway, he plucked a tourism brochure from the hand of a young greeter on the pier who wore a round-collared white shirt with embroidery around the neckline. He flipped past all the colorful, useless entertainment advertisements until he reached the crucial information on the final page: the name of the company that had developed the island.
Yan Xiaodao knew very little English and guessed that his subordinate Yang Xifeng was even less educated than he was, but he was not rigid-minded. He searched a few key terms on his phone and quickly turned up the shipping company owned by Watanabe Yangshan.
The man behind this island was that fake Japanese bastard.
Yan Xiaodao had not thought to investigate that angle when gathering intelligence earlier. Now it appeared that Yilu Island was another node in Watanabe’s network of territory.
In the blink of an eye, the Cloudtop had emptied. Male and female guests paired off hand in hand and eagerly ran onto Yilu Island’s beaches of fine white sand. The enchanting view where sea met sky seemed to possess a kind of magic, lending everyone immersed in it an air of purity and cleanliness completely unlike the little demons and painted beauties they had been during the previous two nights.
Handsome young men and beautiful women rode Jet Skis across the sea, surfing and playing in the waves.
Veteran gamblers who had been itching for action took seats at the tables in the hotel casino, throwing away fortunes amid clinking glasses and flowing liquor.
After changing clothes, Yan Xiaodao passed through the hotel lobby and happened to run into exactly the man he had wanted to “run into”: Jian Mingjue.
Jian Mingjue seemed almost to be inviting him deliberately, his broad smile loosening his long jaw. “Old Yan, want to come practice at the range with us?”
“Sure.” Yan Xiaodao looked perfectly relaxed and cheerful. He had lost track of where the fish had been hidden anyway, and this was the other side’s territory. He was completely blind here.
Jian Mingjue familiarly threw an arm over Yan Xiaodao’s shoulder. “Watanabe’s there too. His family owns the range!”
Yan Xiaodao felt that Jian Mingjue somehow knew everything, yet somehow everything he said also sounded accidental. He smiled lightly and nodded. “Lead the way, Brother Jian.”
The afternoon was mild and sunny, seabirds flying alongside clouds at the horizon. Yan Xiaodao wore only a pure-linen white round-neck shirt on top, smoke-gray riding breeches below, and tall riding boots as he strode across the white sand.
He had an excellent build. Seen from behind, his spine was perfectly straight, his waist never bending or swaying, with broad shoulders, a firm waist, and long legs.
Beautiful women in short skirts strolling gracefully across the beach all glanced toward him almost in unison.
It was rare to see a handsome man walking around this island completely alone, without a companion.
Jian Mingjue certainly had companions. Every time he stepped outside, he brought three at once—three temporary comrades who seemed to have materialized from nowhere, their faces different yet again from the women he had been with before.
Jian Mingjue watched Yan Xiaodao striding ahead of everyone and began chuckling. “Mr. Yan, that body of yours is top-grade merchandise too!”
Yan Xiaodao narrowed his eyes and looked back, the backlighting outlining his face and neck with a rim of gold.
The three women beside Jian Mingjue stared.
“I never should’ve walked beside you!” Jian Mingjue was the sort who could bend or straighten as needed, kneel when necessary, and flatter without shame. He waved toward the three women. “Quit pretending, quit pretending. Go on over! I’m telling you, our Mr. Yan is big where it counts and knows how to work it—he can take all three of you at once!”
Jian Mingjue was a professional broker who made his living dealing in this sort of thing and had seen every variety of “goods” there was. He liked to claim he could judge the substance from the form, so when he called Yan Xiaodao “top-grade,” there was a double meaning to it—and he sincerely meant the compliment.
Yan Xiaodao turned back with a cold expression and immediately returned fire. He said to the three women, “Let me tell you a joke. I used to go to the Red Square Nightclub in Linwan. There was a certain big boss there whose nickname was ‘Russian Sausage.’ They said you couldn’t steam it cooked, couldn’t boil it soft, and after three hours roasting in the furnace, it still wouldn’t go limp. In the end, it burned the damn furnace black instead. Guess who this ‘Russian Sausage’ was?”
The three women clapped and burst out laughing, all pointing at Jian Mingjue. It was the first time Jian Mingjue had ever heard Yan Xiaodao tell a dirty joke. He froze for a second, then roared with laughter himself.
The range presented a peaceful scene. All the prominent figures from Linwan had gathered there, seven or eight leading figures from various corporations and groups in total.
As the host, Watanabe Yangshan was naturally the center of attention, fussing attentively over his distinguished guests. He was short and squat, with thinning hair, his suit stubbornly stretched across a waist and belly that had already gone soft with age. Combined with his constant bowing and scraping, it made him look even more ridiculous.
This was not a firearms range. On a picturesque South Sea island, people generally did not bother with hunting rifles and the like. Instead, this was an understated but luxurious archery range. For some reason, this boring sport had suddenly become fashionable in their circles over the past two years.
You Haodong looked stern and was taciturn by temperament. He wore professional protective gear on his hand and wrist and practiced arrow after arrow, displaying considerable skill. Watanabe Yangshan stood beside him smiling pleasantly, nodding slightly. “This range was practically custom-built for you, President You!”
His enthusiasm and flattery were so excessive that he looked ready to run over and hold up the target himself, turning his own body into the target stand and inviting President You to draw the bow and shoot straight at his balding head.
Beneath You Haodong’s sunglasses, his arrogance and self-importance were impossible to conceal. He habitually wore a massive jadeite ring on the middle finger of his right hand, obviously a priceless piece of top-grade stone. The jade ring decorating the hand with which he drew his bow lent his posture a touch of leisurely, aristocratic elegance.
Jian Mingjue took a turn as well. His archery was average. He had clearly practiced several times but was no expert, scoring around seventy points over ten arrows.
Jian Mingjue gestured with his eyes. “Mr. Yan, give it a try!”
Yan Xiaodao shrugged. “Never shot before. Don’t know how!”
Jian Mingjue grinned maliciously. “You’re a grown man and you dare say you’ve never shot? Come on—have you shot before or haven’t you?”
“Fuck you!”
Yan Xiaodao strode up, took his stance, drew the bow, and loosed the arrow. His posture was extraordinarily handsome and carefree, his back and waist perfectly straight. The bowstring cracked like tearing silk, startling the seabirds into flight—because the arrow itself had sailed straight into the treetop to hunt birds.
His second arrow landed on the neighboring target.
His third sent the women sitting beneath the shade canopy eating fruit scattering for safety. None of them dared remain nearby.
The spectators burst into laughter, even the loose flesh of Watanabe Yangshan’s face trembling with it. Yan Xiaodao shook the bow self-deprecatingly. “Something wrong with this thing? Ow, my fingers and palm hurt like hell. Scraped me up!”
“You idiot, you forgot a finger tab and arm guard!” Jian Mingjue shouted.
Yan Xiaodao grimaced, frowned, and put two fingers into his mouth, sucking in his breath with great exaggeration.
＊
After sending plenty of arrows wide, Yan Xiaodao patiently asked several instructors at Watanabe’s range for pointers. By the time the sun was nearing the horizon, he was finally putting a few arrows into the eight-point ring.
Watanabe Yangshan came over smiling. “Mr. Yan certainly seems very interested. You’re enjoying yourself!”
Yan Xiaodao said, “Every trade is its own mountain. I’ve learned something today.”
Watanabe Yangshan narrowed his eyes until all that remained were two puffy bags beneath them. “Your hand didn’t bleed, did it?”
“A little. Tsk. I sucked it all dry myself.” Yan Xiaodao rubbed his fingers.
Not far away, You Haodong watched the two of them from the corner of his eye, a sharp gleam in his gaze.
Yan Xiaodao smiled. “President Watanabe, we’re both coming and going through the same port all the time. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of chances to meet in the future. I hope you’ll look after me and offer your guidance.”
Watanabe Yangshan raised his brows and hurried to return the courtesy. “Our business is small and the journey is long. In the future, I hope Mr. Yan will put in a good word for us with Chairman Qi. We’re all on the same side, after all…. Oh, and after dinner tonight, I hope Mr. Yan will also honor us with your presence.”
Yan Xiaodao looked at him calmly. “For what?”
Watanabe Yangshan bowed his head deeply. “I’ve arranged another program at the hotel casino aquarium to entertain several distinguished guests with a little fish-viewing. If Mr. Yan could attend, it would be my great honor.”
Fish-viewing.
“Of course. The honor’s mine. I’ll definitely be there.” Yan Xiaodao smiled.
Yan Xiaodao’s hand did not hurt at all.
How could it possibly bleed?
The skin on his hands was thicker than sheet metal. If he reached out and rubbed those hands across the sagging flesh of Watanabe Yangshan’s face, he could probably rub Watanabe’s entire face bloody.
The group began walking back toward the hotel, Jian Mingjue still chatting filthy nonsense with Yan Xiaodao.
Only You Haodong lagged behind alone, his face dark with displeasure as he watched Yan Xiaodao’s back from a distance, sunset colors gilding his silhouette.
Behind him, three bodyguards dressed in black carried a pile of expensive gift bags that Watanabe, the range owner, had presented to Young Master You, yet You Haodong still looked thoroughly irritated. The land around the range was open, with tall grass waving and orioles flying.
You Haodong murmured darkly, “Looks like we were right. Yan Xiao came for this fish too.”
He suddenly turned toward his men. “Did Pei Yi come this time or not? If both of those two are here, fuck it, there’s no point fighting over anything. We might as well turn around and go home.”
One bodyguard reported quietly, “Definitely not. We’ve checked the ship several times. It’s just him.”
You Haodong shook his head. “Yan Xiao came alone? One man, one weapon—he’s got balls. So what, he plans to come straight at us? He actually intends to grab it openly? And that old bastard Watanabe still has the fucking nerve to hedge both sides. We had a deal already. Son of a bitch—does he plan to eat from two tables and sell the same goods twice?!”
You Haodong and the three black-clad bodyguards looked at one another and began calculating whether three against one sounded feasible.
They considered it for only a moment before shaking their heads. Even three against one probably would not be enough to take Yan Xiaodao down. They would lose both face and substance in the process. None of them dared try it head-on.
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