Chapter 52

Chapter 52

The next morning, Qu Yixian got up very early to feed Diao Chan.

Fu Xun really was full of schemes. Perhaps he feared that after she closed the door, she’d turn hostile and not recognize him, so he had quietly sent an undercover, sneaking onto her bed in the middle of the night.

Normally, she and this snow ferret would be mutually annoyed, neither liking the other.

But people are strange sometimes. Maybe feeding it chicken breast had built some bond—last night Qu Yixian and Diao Chan, one lying horizontally on the pillow, the other crouched by the pillow with all four legs, had stared each other down for a long time, then each stepped back—she wouldn’t allow it into the blanket, but if it insisted on the pillow, fine.

Strangely, the ferret seemed almost enlightened. Qu Yixian said nothing; just by tacit consent, it comfortably settled on the pillow.

To avoid being pushed off, it curled its tail and arched its body…

After feeding Diao Chan, Qu Yixian called Yuan Ye, far away in Dachaidan, to check that everything was normal last night, reminded him to be careful, then hung up, ready to knock on the next door.

Fu Xun was ahead of her. Before the sunlight reached the horizon in Dunhuang, he had already pressed the doorbell for quite a while under the pretext of “picking up Diao Chan.”

Qu Yixian opened the door for him: “Diao Chan is sunbathing. If you want it, go to the windowsill.”

“I’m here for you.” Fu Xun lightly tapped on the doorframe. Qu Yixian looked over; he then closed the door behind him and gestured for her to come see his phone: “There’s been a change.”

As people get older, they particularly fear changes.

Hearing the key phrase, Qu Yixian got goosebumps. She didn’t bother keeping her composure, carrying her water cup as she walked over: “What happened?”

Fu Xun handed her the phone: “See for yourself.”

What? Still teasing.

Qu Yixian’s eyes glanced at it—and immediately her scalp tingled.

Fu Xun was showing her a picture.

The picture showed a brightly colored redwood coffin, aged and worn, the wood decayed and even rotting in places.

At this moment, the coffin, heavy with history, had its lid pried open, the interior walls and lid smeared with dried blood. Inside lay a woman, wearing a decayed, tattered cotton garment, lying atop the decayed skeleton of the original coffin owner, her expression frozen in the final, gasping struggle for breath.

Her skull nearly twisted, resting against the seam between the coffin and lid; her fingers were bloodied beyond recognition. Through her disheveled hair, her eyes, unwilling to close in death, could still faintly be seen.

The victim’s death was so brutal that even Qu Yixian, who had seen life and death many times, couldn’t bear a second look.

She looked away, her glass cup creaking in her hand. After a few seconds, she asked, “Shen Zhizhi?”

Fu Xun was not surprised that she guessed immediately and nodded slightly: “But it can’t be confirmed yet.”

Qu Yixian recalled the tomb-robbing team last night who risked everything to keep her safe and shuddered: “They did this?”

Fu Xun only had limited confirmed information and didn’t answer immediately: “Still under investigation.”

Qu Yixian asked again: “Where did the news come from?”

“Fu Tai sent it to me,” Fu Xun explained. “After Quan Xiao left last night, I contacted Fu Tai and arranged to meet at the North City Appraisal Office this morning. The photo was sent to me this morning—it’s one of the tomb chambers in the Dulan ancient tomb. Fu Tai hasn’t seen Shen Zhizhi; the victim’s face is obscured by hair in the photo, so features can’t be identified. Confirmation will likely require Qinghai police appraisal.”

Shen Zhizhi missing; Dulan ancient tomb; the relentless tomb-robbing team.

There seemed to be an invisible thread connecting these three, gradually weaving together.

Qu Yixian, usually fearless, didn’t dare make assumptions now. The impact of the Gou Yun jade pendant had far exceeded her expectations, making everything uncontrollable and dangerous.

She sipped the cooling water in her glass and asked Fu Xun: “What do we do next?”

“First, the North City Appraisal Office.” Fu Xun decided. “Fu Tai knows Quan Xiao better than any of us. Any flaws we can’t see, he knows.”

Qu Yixian looked at him for a long moment and nodded: “Okay.”

First, to the North City antique appraisal office.

—

Qu Yixian had no appetite for breakfast. She asked the front desk for a packet of oatmeal, didn’t even boil water, tore it open, and ate a few spoonfuls dry.

Fu Xun frowned but, knowing Qu Yixian wasn’t the type to listen, didn’t press it. On the way past the Golden Arch, he got out and bought two meal sets.

By the time they reached North City, the sun was just rising.

Without the dust, Dunhuang was bright under the morning sun. The streets gradually filled with the sounds of cars and people, the whole scene flowing with life.

Qu Yixian waited through a red light, then turned left at the end of the street, driving into the alley where the North City Antique Appraisal Office was located.

Fu Tai was already waiting at the entrance, one hand behind his back, the other holding a long smoking pipe, puffing on old tobacco. From a distance, seeing Tu Le drive into the alley, he walked out a few steps to meet them, gesturing for Qu Yixian to drive the car into the courtyard parking lot.

Once the car was in, he personally closed the gate and invited Fu Xun and Qu Yixian inside.

Fu Tai was nearly sixty but still combed his hair into a slicked-back style, gel applied from roots to tips, each strand obediently in place.

He wore a retro light gray Zhongshan suit, buttons meticulously fastened from the collar hugging the neck down to the hem.

Qu Yixian deliberately glanced at Fu Tai’s elbows and joints. Not only was the suit perfectly smooth, not a crease in sight—it was flawless.

People like this either had obsessive-compulsive tendencies or were extremely meticulous.

As Qu Yixian studied Fu Tai, Fu Tai was likewise studying her.

“Little Qu Ye” had a formidable reputation in the northwest, even surpassing Peng Shen back in the day. Especially in recent years, with Peng Shen stepping back, Qu Yixian had been at her peak.

Fu Tai had heard plenty about Qu Yixian—from “Peng Shen’s successor” to leader of the Starshine Rescue Team—at banquets and drinking tables, someone would always mention this young woman.

But today, meeting her for the first time, Fu Tai truly grasped her presence in three dimensions.

Impressive, and beautiful enough.

She didn’t deliberately dress masculine; at first glance, her striking features stood out—delicate and radiant.

From getting out of the car to sitting inside, Fu Tai had never seen her smile. But it wasn’t a stiff, serious face—rather, polite and distant in her natural state.

If he didn’t know she was “Little Qu Ye” from the northwest circuit, he wouldn’t have recognized her at first glance. But looking closer, the assertiveness and decisiveness in her brow and eyes exuded a sharpness and agility uncommon to most women, every movement decisive and commanding.

Her entire aura was both rogue and competent.

Perhaps all of Dunhuang couldn’t find another woman with such a unique temperament.

—

After sitting, Fu Tai first exchanged pleasantries with Fu Xun: “Elder Fu, how have you been lately? Last month, I heard from our correspondence that your health wasn’t very good?”

“Quite well,” Fu Xun replied concisely. “People get older, and there are always minor health issues, or some indicator isn’t up to standard.”

Fu Tai smiled, then looked at Qu Yixian: “This must be Little Qu Ye?”

Fu Xun lifted the tea lid and answered for her: “Just call her Yixian.”

Qu Yixian let out two dry laughs and nodded in agreement, but her eyes shot a glance at Fu Xun, silently complaining: Who allowed him to answer for her? Meddlesome!

Fu Xun seemed entirely unaware of her discontent, handing her the breakfast he bought on the way: “Eat it.”

Qu Yixian’s smile grew drier.

He did it on purpose, didn’t he? Didn’t give it to her early, didn’t give it late, making sure that with an outsider present, she wouldn’t offend him and wouldn’t bother arguing.

He really knew her well.

Qu Yixian quietly took the breakfast, just intending to place it beside her, but Fu Xun noticed and gently asked, “Not hungry?”

Before she could answer, he turned to Fu Tai and explained: “We were in a hurry, and I didn’t have time to eat breakfast on the road. Since Uncle Fu isn’t a stranger, he probably won’t mind.”

Fu Tai naturally said “doesn’t mind,” looking kindly at Qu Yixian, signaling her not to be polite.

Qu Yixian kept her words polite, but in her mind, she thought: if I weren’t polite, I’d throw this breakfast in Fu Xun’s face right now.

Still, as it was Fu Xun’s good intention, she appreciated it and quickly finished the breakfast while listening to the two of them talk.

Fu Xun kept an eye on her movements. Seeing her finish, he subtly raised the corners of his mouth and smoothly shifted the topic to Quan Xiao: “Last night I met Yixian and Quan Xiao. Some questions are inconvenient to ask him directly, so I thought to consult you, Uncle Fu.”

Fu Tai, having navigated the antique world for decades, was sharp; he didn’t miss the fleeting expression on Fu Xun’s face. Smiling politely, he said, “Quan Xiao often helps clients pick up items from me. I deal with him frequently. I may not know everything, but what I do know, I’ll share.”

Fu Xun sipped his eight-treasure tea, perhaps finding it too sweet, furrowed slightly: “Two months ago, Quan Xiao learned from Dongjia Shop that Pei Yuliang intended to sell the Gou Yun jade pendant. He tried to bypass Dongjia Shop to contact Pei Yuliang directly. Eventually, he succeeded and got Pei Yuliang’s contact from Shen Zhizhi. But I think… isn’t that a bit too coincidental? Uncle Fu, what do you know about the past between Shen Zhizhi and Quan Xiao?”

“Quan Xiao isn’t very discreet in personal matters. I haven’t followed his gossip closely, but I’ve heard rumors,” Fu Tai thought for a moment: “Quan Xiao married early. The year his wife was pregnant, he was out chasing women. As karma would have it, his wife went to catch him once, was shocked, lost the child, and later they divorced. I only heard… that the woman with him that time was Shen Zhizhi.”

Qu Yixian fell into thought.

So it seems Quan Xiao did have a past with Shen Zhizhi. Regardless of how immoral the thought might be, Qu Yixian couldn’t help but speculate: since the marriage was already over, if Quan Xiao wanted to marry Shen Zhizhi, wouldn’t that be a “slut with a dog, forever and ever”? Why couldn’t he marry her?

What Quan Xiao showed in front of her didn’t match the facts Fu Tai described.

“Earlier, there was another matter,” Fu Tai sipped his tea and said slowly, “Shen Zhizhi, that woman, was in the world of pleasure but her heart was with the gutter. She loved Quan Xiao deeply and obeyed him completely. Quan Xiao was a small player. He’s managed to get by, but privately, he’s done plenty of underhanded things.”

“There used to be a pawnshop in Dunhuang’s West City. About two years ago, Quan Xiao had just divorced his ex-wife. Apparently, he promised Shen Zhizhi some benefits, tricking her into a honey trap, which completely disrupted the West City pawnshop—chaos ensued, and the shop had to close. At the time, I worked closely with Quan Xiao, and many in the circle thought I had a narrow vision and couldn’t tolerate people, so they claimed I had instructed Quan Xiao to ruin the pawnshop with unscrupulous methods.”

“That year, it was the Qianlong period of the Qing dynasty when the Jin’Ou Yonggu Cup emerged. And the West City pawnshop at the time held this treasure. To avoid suspicion, I didn’t know much about the matter, but later I heard that the Jin’Ou Yonggu Cup passed through Quan Xiao’s hands and ended up with a collector in Hong Kong.”

Qu Yixian raised her eyebrows, lifted the tea cup, and sipped. The temperature and sweetness of the tea slightly eased the nausea rising in her chest.

She held the tea cup, absentmindedly watching the steam swirl above it.

If what Fu Tai said was true, then Quan Xiao really had been treating her like a fool.

Or maybe not just her.

A client arrived, and a staff member lifted the curtain to call Fu Tai to check on them.

Fu Tai excused himself, asking Fu Xun and Qu Yixian to sit for a moment; he would be right back.

Once he left, Qu Yixian looked at Fu Xun straight on: “Is this Uncle Fu reliable?”

Fu Xun, not very interested in replying, lowered his gaze and played with the tea cup, finally saying, “Uncle Fu is like a failed rice seedling my father once planted; there’s a master-disciple connection. Don’t be fooled by his age—he’s actually my peer.”

Failed rice seedling?

Qu Yixian thought to herself: Only Fu Xun would dare say this in front of her. Imagine if it were in front of Fu Tai—let’s see if he’d dare mention it!

Fu Xun didn’t explicitly clarify, but that one sentence was enough for Qu Yixian to make a judgment.

Fu Tai’s credibility was obviously far higher than Quan Xiao, who talked nonsense all the time.

Originally, Qu Yixian thought that meeting Quan Xiao would allow her to learn more about Xiang Xiaolong, and retrieving the Gou Yun jade pendant was just a matter of time.

But now, the clues were tangled and confusing. There was a tomb-robbing convoy relentlessly chasing, Quan Xiao watching like a predator, and now Shen Zhizhi, whose whereabouts were unknown and likely already in danger.

Qu Yixian sighed, leaning back against the chair.

As she moved, the hard object in her pocket jabbed precisely into her buttock.

She froze, and strangely recalled the dream from the night before, as if it had been a premonition.

Qu Yixian turned to look at Fu Xun.

A few seconds later, she nervously shot a side glance at him again.

Fu Xun pretended not to notice.

Three minutes later.

Just as Qu Yixian hesitated, trying to find the right moment to bring up the jade pendant, Fu Xun turned, catching her unknown-number-of-times sneaky glance precisely.

Qu Yixian’s breath hitched, her heartbeat slowing for a fraction of a second.

Her ears flushed, her cheeks tinged pink. Just the exchange of glances with Fu Xun made her feel like she was on a thrilling battlefield.

At that moment, she felt like a failed prisoner, fully exposed under his gaze.

Author’s note: Last chapter had a bug—Xiang Xiaolong didn’t actually go to West City, because the West City pawnshop had already closed…