Chapter 63 Departure

This seemed to be the local red-light district. Many gaudily dressed women stood at the entrances of the alleys; as soon as someone approached, they would press close with enthusiasm. I sidestepped a middle-aged woman reeking of perfume, frowned, and asked the man in dark sunglasses, “Can’t we pick somewhere else?”

Before the man in sunglasses could answer, a matronly woman nearby interjected with displeasure, “Young man, why go somewhere else? This place is famous for its beautiful women and fair prices. Come on, let me take care of you.”

I was growing impatient and about to lose my temper when the man in sunglasses quickly said, “My young brother here is still a virgin. Don’t scare him off.” He then pulled the middle-aged woman aside. I saw him slip her two large bills and mutter something under his breath. The woman immediately brightened and led both of us deeper into the alley. When we reached a small courtyard, the man in sunglasses told me we’d be staying here for now.

It was a rather quiet courtyard, with pink lanterns hanging from the surrounding houses. The man in sunglasses assured me that despite the apparent chaos, the place was actually very safe—no one would expect us to hide out here. When I asked how he knew this area so well, he replied with a smile, “No matter where you are, first get to know the lay of the land. That way, you always have an escape route. Learn from this, young man—don’t think you can conquer the world just because you can handle yourself in a fight. In these times, you need both brains and brawn, or you’ll never know what hit you.”

This time, I didn’t argue. Instead, I fell silent, realizing he had a point. When it came to making my way in the world, I was still green. The man in sunglasses, though, was clearly a seasoned veteran who had seen much.

Inside, the room reeked of pungent perfume. I opened the window to air it out, lay down on the bed, and quickly drifted into sleep. Early the next morning, I got up and noticed the door to the man’s room was open; he was nowhere to be seen.

After a while, he returned, carrying a steaming bag of buns. When I asked where he’d been, he replied, “Eat first. Nothing’s more important than a full stomach.”

As I ate, he continued, “I went out early to gather some news. Apparently, a group came here recently, bought a lot of equipment and supplies, and departed northwest during the night. Their exact destination is unclear, but I suspect they’re headed toward Shenmu City. I’ve asked a few friends to look into it, and we should hear something by tonight. For now, all we can do is gather information and try to get closer to them. But things are tense around here—another group has come, too. Be cautious.”

I didn’t offer any thoughts. I was a stranger here, inexperienced in these matters. Near noon, my phone rang. Without even checking, I answered—it was Li Ling. She told me their route had been determined. While not exact, they’d narrowed down the location as much as possible and would fax me a map. There was only one print shop in this small county town, so I didn’t hide anything from the man in sunglasses and took him with me.

In less than half an hour, the map arrived—a clear, detailed layout. It looked unfamiliar, and I was considering comparing it with a local map when the man in sunglasses snatched it from my hands. Oblivious to my reaction, he studied it briefly and said, “Well, well, you’re more useful than I thought. I have a good idea where this is.”

I asked how he could recognize it so quickly. He told me it was simply habit—wherever he went, he’d first commit the routes and maps to memory. Truly a seasoned operator.

Afterward, the man in sunglasses took me to the local used car market. The town was small, and the market was even smaller—nearly desolate, with only one dealership and four or five ramshackle cars in the lot. He told me it was better to drive ourselves, more convenient that way. He picked out an aging minivan that cost less than ten thousand yuan. According to him, it was fuel-efficient, sturdy, and spacious—not that we had much to carry anyway.

I could drive; we’d had a small car at home, and my father had taught me. But it had been so long, I was a bit rusty. The man in sunglasses, however, was a skilled driver, fast and confident.

He took me around the market for supplies and gear, loaded them into the back, and then we headed northwest. Along the way, he boasted endlessly about his past—how formidable he’d been, all the expensive cars he’d driven and so on. I let his words drift by and gazed out the window. The landscape was bleak, dominated by yellow earth. I knew this area was rich in mineral resources, and many local tycoons had made their fortunes from coal. Mines, large and small, dotted the region. According to the man in sunglasses, law and order here was poor—sometimes even chaotic. So many mines attracted all sorts: fugitives, local gangs, and the like, tangled together in a mess. With the complicated terrain, if someone ran into the mountains, the police could barely catch them—a true den of wolves and dragons.

He kept his foot nearly flat to the floor, the minivan rattling as if it might fall apart. I urged him to slow down, but he didn’t respond. Just as I was about to light a cigarette, he slammed on the brakes so suddenly I nearly smashed my head on the windscreen.

“Hey, what are you doing? I asked you to slow down, not slam the brakes!” I snapped.

He gestured for me to look ahead. I saw a gas station where six imported Mitsubishi SUVs were lined up for fuel. The men standing nearby didn’t look like ordinary folks—they were all burly types. The license plates weren’t local, either—some from Heilongjiang, some from Jilin.

The man in sunglasses motioned for me to lower my head as he eased the van forward. As we passed the line of SUVs, he said quickly, “Look at the front passenger seat in the first car.”

Instinctively, I glanced over and was startled—it was Old Ghost. How could it be him? What a coincidence, running into him here. “Why don’t you go say hello?” I asked. “I thought you two were on good terms. Honestly, I always thought you worked for him.”

He kept his eyes on the road but scoffed, “Me, work for that old bastard? Don’t insult me. Besides, if I went over now, they’d probably tie me up. They’ve got the numbers—we’d better keep our distance.”

I joked, “What did you do to cross him? Don’t tell me you stole his money and ran?”

The man ignored me and kept driving, but this time he slowed down, as if waiting for something. Soon, the SUV convoy caught up and he steered aside, letting them pass. It seemed he intended to follow them.

“I thought you didn’t want to get involved with those people,” I said, “Aren’t you afraid they’ll notice us if we tail them like this?”

“Not at all. We’re in a beat-up minivan with local plates. Who would suspect anything? Sometimes, young man, don’t overthink things.”

So he kept glancing at the map while I closed my eyes and rested. By evening, the convoy stopped in a small town, likely to rest for the night. The man in sunglasses also pulled over. After some inquiries, we learned there was only one guesthouse in town—the same place Old Ghost’s group was staying. Naturally, we wouldn’t dare sleep there, so the man in sunglasses said we’d make do in the van.

I asked why we were following Old Ghost. He explained that, while Li Ling’s information was accurate, it wasn’t enough to pinpoint the exact location. Finding a tomb’s coordinates wasn’t simple—it involved feng shui and other complex knowledge. He wasn’t an expert in that field, so the best bet was to follow Old Ghost’s group. Those people were seasoned tomb robbers, adept at finding burial sites, and their destination was likely the same as ours.

We’d barely settled in when two burly men in black coats started walking straight toward our van. I turned to the man in sunglasses, “Didn’t you say they wouldn’t notice us? What now?”

He gave an awkward laugh. “What else? We run!”

But just then, the van refused to start. That’s what you get for being cheap, I thought. The damn thing broke down at the worst moment. As I was cursing our luck, the two men reached the door and knocked on the window. The man in sunglasses rolled it down and asked, “What’s up, brothers?”

“What are you doing here?” one of them demanded.

The man in sunglasses smiled, “We’re just resting. It’s late, we wanted a break. Besides, what we do is none of your damn business.”

He spat out the last words, his tone growing colder with each syllable. The men’s faces darkened.