Chapter 53

Chapter 53

“Say what you want.” Fu Xun lifted his chin slightly, glancing at her from the side.

Qu Yixian instinctively clicked her knuckles a few times, then brushed her nose with her fingertip: “I wanted to ask what the Gou Yun jade pendant looks like…”

Fu Xun seemed to suddenly remember he hadn’t yet described the patterns on the Gou Yun jade pendant to her. His gaze swept around, resting on the squared practice notebook and pencil on the table, pausing for a moment before gesturing to Qu Yixian: “Go get them.”

Qu Yixian responded with an “oh” and obediently went to fetch the paper and pencil.

She had her back to Fu Xun, so she didn’t notice him raising an eyebrow and looking thoughtful just as she stood up.

When Qu Yixian handed the paper and pencil to him, she felt a little uneasy: “This looks like a kid’s homework notebook.”

Fu Xun took it, flipping through the pages carelessly: “Yeah.”

“Isn’t this a bit… inappropriate?” Qu Yixian hesitated. “Should I go ask Uncle Fu for some proper paper and pencil?”

“No need.” Fu Xun raised his eyes, staring at her without blinking: “Feeling guilty about something?”

Qu Yixian instinctively shook her head, countering: “No.”

Fu Xun chuckled softly, spinning the pencil across his fingertips. Finally, he tapped the pencil cap lightly on the squared notebook and began giving examples: “Normally, if I asked you to fetch paper and pencil for me, your reaction would be one of two: either reluctantly toss it over, or sit in your chair without moving and ask me, ‘Did your two hands grow just for show?’”

After his reasoning, he mischievously asked: “Am I right?”

Qu Yixian: “……”

She was silent for a few seconds, then plopped back into the chair: “So are you going to draw or not?”

Fu Xun thought for a moment and asked, “If I draw, will you have dinner with me tonight?”

Qu Yixian stared at him expressionlessly for a while, then grabbed the notebook and pencil from his hands, pressing them under her palm: “No, no, no.”

Fu Xun half-smiled, unhurriedly watching her.

…

A few minutes later, after intense internal struggle, Qu Yixian resigned herself and handed the notebook back to him: “Fine, draw, I’ll eat with you!”

Fu Xun, lightly scraping the floating tea leaves with the lid, didn’t drink, holding the teacup in one hand and swirling the tea with the other, as if killing time or waiting for something.

Hearing her words, he remained calm, emotionless, and placed the notebook she forced onto the table, smoothing it down with his wrist.

That accommodating expression seemed to suggest he had anticipated Qu Yixian would eventually give in.

Qu Yixian felt inexplicably deflated.

She was used to getting her way, but this was the first time encountering someone like Fu Xun who neither yielded nor yielded, as if everything were already in his control. She couldn’t bully him, so she had to yield… and wasn’t it always her compromise in the end?

Even this one face she normally didn’t care about had some effect on Fu Xun… was it sad or what?

Fu Xun lifted his pencil, drawing lines on the blank page.

Glancing at Qu Yixian out of the corner of his eye, he saw she had calmed down, resting her chin in her hand, intently watching him draw the jade pendant.

She watched seriously, her eyes glimmering, gathering light like a flowing river, like a shimmering galaxy.

It was hard for Fu Xun not to be distracted.

Halfway through drawing the auspicious cloud pattern, he stopped abruptly.

The pencil tip ended with darker lines than elsewhere, like a cliff; below it lay an empty abyss.

Qu Yixian’s gaze halted with it, looking up at him: “Why did you stop?”

“Forgot the details,” Fu Xun said carelessly. “I’ll check the detailed images tonight when I get back to the hotel.”

“Tonight?” Qu Yixian immediately shifted her focus: “Not this afternoon? Yuan Ye and Jiang Yun are coming too.”

“Not that soon.” Fu Xun glanced at his wristwatch, estimating: “Someone must be keeping an eye on them in Da Chaidan. No one can be certain. Yuan Ye’s car, from tire repair to starting out, will be at least noon. You know better than I do how many kilometers it is from Da Chaidan, and how long it will take.”

Qu Yixian did know.

Excluding time spent stopping at scenic spots, Yuan Ye wouldn’t arrive in Dunhuang until at least the evening. Arriving at dusk, who knows where those eyes would be waiting for them.

“What’s the plan for the afternoon?” she asked.

Fu Xun curved his lips: “I’ll take you to meet someone from Nanjiang.”

Someone from Nanjiang?

Qu Yixian’s mind spun.

People from Nanjiang had long-term residence in Dunhuang; she basically knew all of them. The only one who required Fu Xun’s guidance… she knew just one.

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, showing interest: “You mean the loan shark from Nanjiang?”

——

After leaving Fu Tai at the North City Antique Appraisal Office, Fu Xun drove, taking Qu Yixian into Dunhuang’s most luxurious five-star hotel—the Dunhuang Grand Hotel.

After getting out of the car, Qu Yixian looked back at the magnificent, golden lobby, sighing slightly: “Being rich is nice.”

Fu Xun leaned over and pressed the elevator button, glancing at her: “I’m rich too. Not interested?”

Qu Yixian scoffed, countering: “If it’s not your own money, can you spend it in peace?”

The elevator dinged as it stopped at the first-floor lobby. Fu Xun entered first, pressed the floor button, then casually mentioned: “Yuan Ye said your wish for a year was to marry a money-printing machine.”

Qu Yixian: “……”

Could he not bring up such old, trivial nonsense? Couldn’t she have one unrealistic, juvenile phase?

Through the smooth mirrored walls of the elevator, she stole a glance at Fu Xun, then deliberately shifted the topic: “We came in so openly. Won’t the explorers notice us?”

“No.” Fu Xun leaned against the handrail, turning to her: “Although that photo hasn’t been definitively verified, both Fu Tai and I think the deceased is likely Shen Zhizhi. She’s in a coffin, clearly couldn’t have taken her own life. And with rumors spreading of the Dulan tomb being robbed again, there are already plenty of eyes on it. A death has occurred—do you think this matter could stay small?”

Qu Yixian thought his reasoning made sense.

Wasn’t it just last night that Fu Xun speculated that the triangular nails puncturing Yuan Ye’s tires were actually recent artifacts from the Dulan tomb? And these artifacts were indeed personally delivered by the tomb-robbing exploration team.

Their hands weren’t clean. During the Dunhuang lockdown, they probably wouldn’t dare act recklessly.

Fu Xun spoke little but handled matters reliably.

Qu Yixian had never heard him analyze the situation or immediate response strategies; he always acted first, and only later would she have the chance to verify whether his judgment and choices were correct.

She didn’t reply, her gaze fixed on the elevator display climbing floor by floor.

After a while, she couldn’t suppress her curiosity and asked: “Why didn’t you ask me how I realized Yuan Ye was dishonest? Before verifying with Fu Tai, his words were flawless, without any loopholes.”

The elevator dinged, signaling arrival.

Fu Xun and she stepped out side by side. His voice was low and steady: “No need to ask. I can roughly guess.”

So certain?

Qu Yixian looked suspicious: “Then tell me.”

“Judging by how you suspected him of deceiving you after he left, your first doubt was because you felt he had many tricks up his sleeve.” Fu Xun glanced at her sideways, silently asking with his eyes, “Am I right?”

Qu Yixian found that gaze oddly familiar…

Hadn’t she often looked at Fu Xun like that herself?

Thinking of this, she coughed lightly, signaling him: “Go on.”

This time Fu Xun thought for a moment, seeming to search for the right words: “His opening approach was like mine—not fully honest, somewhat reserved. And there’s another issue, quite crucial…” He paused, adding: “Twice, he avoided discussing the interactions between him and Xiang Xiaolong when you asked.”

Qu Yixian shot him a skeptical glance. She thought she was usually good at staying composed, so how was it that in his eyes she seemed completely exposed, not even her thoughts escaping his notice?

Her suspicion of Yuan Ye was indeed justified for these two reasons Fu Xun mentioned.

First, Yuan Ye’s opening words, like Fu Xun’s, waited for her to ask questions instead of proactively explaining. This indicated Yuan Ye feared saying something he couldn’t retract; otherwise, he could have simply repeated what he told Yuan Ye—what’s the harm?

Second, Yuan Ye avoided answering her questions about his conversations with Xiang Xiaolong and their relationship, even deliberately twisting his responses with seemingly related but evasive answers.

He didn’t even try to investigate further; even an old fox like Fu Xun had to eventually reveal some information. And he dared try to dodge her?

The thick carpet in the corridor muffled their footsteps. From an unknown room, a door quietly opened and closed, the lock clicking.

Qu Yixian was about to look around when Fu Xun stopped in front of a room door, reaching out to knock.

He was dressed a bit formally today—a white shirt with a snow-mountain-style casual jacket over it.

At this moment, the half-rolled-up sleeves of his shirt shrank slightly as he raised his hand to knock, revealing the tattoo on his arm.

Qu Yixian, bored, took an extra glance.

“That tattoo on your arm… it’s not just a pattern, right?”

Fu Xun lifted his arm, glanced at his tattooed arm, and nodded: “Interested?”

Footsteps came from inside the room, someone walking on the wooden floor to open the door.

He held his arm out in front of Qu Yixian under the dim wall light and asked, “Take a good look—what does it look like to you?”

Qu Yixian leaned in and looked closely.

She remembered that when she met him at Hukou in Yan’an, he didn’t have a tattoo yet.

That day, after she finished bathing in the communal bath on the first floor of the big dormitory and came back with wet hair, she borrowed his hairdryer. When he handed it to her, both of his arms had been clean and bare.

“Like characters?” Qu Yixian wasn’t quite sure; she didn’t even know how many characters were in the tattoo. It was like those art classes in school where you’d study paintings—at first glance it looks like a complete landscape, but on closer inspection, it’s composed of countless human faces.

The pattern on Fu Xun’s arm wasn’t faces, but the principle was similar—at first glance it seemed like an intricate totem, but on closer inspection, the design was composed of characters from some unknown script. The lines were elegant, brush strokes flowing like clouds and water… anyway, she couldn’t understand it.

Qu Yixian pursed her lips but didn’t say she couldn’t make sense of it.

She said, “You’re a man… why give yourself so many secrets?”