Chapter 390: Reunion

2022-05-20

They say every encounter in life is just a long-awaited reunion.

As I slowly regained consciousness, the first thing I saw was a familiar face.

Wu Zui, still wearing his mask, was sitting right in front of me. Next to him stood a young man I recognized immediately—Jesse. He was the one who pretended to be a detective during the Liu Yinyan case. I had no idea where his two assistants had gone—Moriko and the mixed-race girl, Vivian.

Jesse came over and gently checked my neck. I was awake but still couldn’t move my body much; the anesthetic definitely hadn’t worn off yet. Finishing his examination, Jesse glanced back at Wu Zui and said, “He’ll be fine. Not dying, at least.”

Wu Zui nodded, his fingers drifting over his mask as he replied, “Not only can he not die, I want him to be perfectly unharmed. Otherwise, our plan falls apart.”

“Got it,” Jesse replied. Without even glancing my way, he continued, “Scarface is making preparations. Lai San went to talk things over with Liu Jian. Everything’s ready to kick off whenever we need. Yin Zi has already started hacking into Dongxing City’s network. That’ll take some time. Old Zhang and the others are keeping watch together so we don’t get exposed. Vivian went to scout the site and Moriko is with Guan Zengbin.”

Jesse spoke with the calm assurance of someone reading off a checklist. Wu Zui seemed thoroughly entertained, nodding along in rhythm while absentmindedly touching his mask. When Jesse finally finished, Wu Zui let out an approving hum. “Very nice. All those months of planning weren’t wasted.”

“What about the three key targets?” Wu Zui asked, cocking his head at Jesse.

“All three are in position. No issues,” Jesse answered.

“Everyone has a weakness,” Wu Zui mused. “Once you find it, you can use anyone. Tell the team: once we’re finished here, everyone gets at least ten million. As for the lower ranks, split it however you see fit.”

Jesse grinned, running a fingernail along a canine tooth. “Big payout. Including all the groundwork and Liu Jian’s cut, it’s looking close to a hundred million by now. I wonder who your backer is. Just on this guy, you’ve already blown through a couple hundred million, haven’t you?”

Wu Zui stood, meeting Jesse’s gaze. “You need to realize something. I have all the money I could ever want, and I need it the least. At some point, money is just a string of numbers. It can’t save you. Any of us could die at any moment, so what’s the point of hoarding it? All I want is to watch the world fall apart, see a life snuffed out in a blink—that’s the meaning of my life.”

Jesse pouted, then shrugged. “I still don’t get you, but I don’t need to. We’re here for our own reasons. Still, this time feels more dangerous than ever.”

With that, Jesse turned and left without looking back.

Wu Zui let out a cold snort.

I forced myself to try to stand, but my limbs were so numb that only my head could move a little. The room was small and cramped, lit only by a dim yellow bulb that cast everything into dull shadow. It felt suffocating.

Aside from the narrow bed I was lying on and the sofa where Wu Zui sat, the space was empty.

I managed to speak. “So Xiao Liu was working for you all along?”

Wu Zui nodded. “You already guessed, didn’t you? I paid Liu Jian fifty million to get him on board. Have you ever noticed? Every afternoon, Liu Jian goes out and buys a lottery ticket. He’s done it for years. But the most he’s ever won is five bucks.”

Looking at Wu Zui, I replied, “I know Xiao Liu cares a lot about status and money. Otherwise, when the Liu Yinyan case ended, he’d have left Dongxing City with us. But instead he stayed and joined Captain Li’s team. He’s made it this far so young, that’s impressive—even if his methods are dirty.”

Wu Zui burst out laughing. “This world was filthy from the start. Every pile of wealth is built on filth and exploitation. Survival is a dog-eat-dog game—completely normal. Liu Jian needs money, so he keeps clawing his way up. But none of you ever understood him.”

“Understood?” I questioned.

With a shrug, Wu Zui asked, “Did you know Liu Jian has a little sister?”

“Little sister?” I shot back. “I looked through Liu Jian’s records. He’s an only child. How could he have a sister?”

Wu Zui snapped his fingers, gesturing at me. “That’s because you missed the details. Do you know why Liu Jian needs so much money?”

I fell silent. I’d never heard Liu Jian mention a sister, nor did Xiao Liu ever explain why he wanted money. I just assumed he loved cash, plain and simple.

Seeing I didn’t answer, Wu Zui pressed on. “See, Wu Meng, details matter. Why do you think someone buys lottery tickets obsessively, day after day? Do you really think Liu Jian is hoping for some grand prize for himself? Maybe you don’t notice, always wearing the same clothes, but if you’d paid attention you’d see—those shoes Liu Jian wears? He’s had them for almost a year now.”

“If he loved money for himself, he wouldn’t go a year without replacing his shoes. Doesn’t sound much like someone addicted to luxury, does it?” Wu Zui seemed almost disappointed, his tone dropping. “So I checked out his parents. Both healthy, no major illnesses. That made things suspicious.”

Wu Zui moved to sit beside me, lowering his voice. “I kept digging and finally figured out what Liu Jian was doing. Turns out it’s actually pretty interesting. When Liu Jian graduated, he was assigned to a small city. His roommate, who had excellent grades, was drafted to work undercover. But it’s a deadly job. Less than two years in, he was exposed and killed.”

“They were as close as brothers,” Wu Zui continued. “So afterward, Liu Jian took responsibility for his friend’s family. But that friend’s father suffered from melanoma—skin cancer. It’s a hereditary disease. Which means his friend or the friend’s little sister could also be at risk.”

Listening to Wu Zui, the picture started to come together.

“Melanoma usually shows up after adulthood, but treatment costs more than Liu Jian could ever afford. Before he died, Liu Jian’s friend told him: he’d taken a huge risk working undercover, and if anything happened to him, he wanted Liu Jian to look after his parents and sister. Liu Jian agreed.”

“Not long after, his friend’s father died of the same cancer. Not wanting his friend’s sister to suffer the same way, Liu Jian needed a fortune for treatment.”

Here Wu Zui suddenly burst out laughing. “Isn’t it wild? The hereditary chance is about two percent. When she grows up, most likely nothing will happen. But if those two percent odds turn against you, it’ll be too late to raise the money in time.”

“So from back then, Liu Jian started buying a lottery ticket every day.” Wu Zui laughed louder. “Isn’t that something?”

“But how’d you figure it out?” I asked. “None of us could track it down, so how did you?”

Wu Zui held up a finger. “I told you already. Isn’t it obvious?”

His tone grew sharp. “The details! Watch the little things. Every lottery ticket Liu Jian buys—the first six digits are always the same. The last one changes each day of the week, but those first six? Clear as day, they’re a date, set just a few years ago. Not a birthday, so…”

“An anniversary of a death,” I said.

“Finally, you figured it out.” Wu Zui nodded, clearly pleased. “That’s his friend’s death day. He’s never missed a single day. And the sister will come of age in a few years. How long do you think it’ll take him to save enough?”

“Everyone has a weakness. Find it, and you can control anyone.” Wu Zui’s tone was almost playful. “So Liu Jian’s weakness is that little sister. It’s funny, really. You all knew he wanted money, but none of you ever knew why.”

Wu Zui chuckled. “He’s willing to risk everything to raise money for a girl who isn’t even related by blood. Passing up bottled water for himself, but ready to give fifty million at once to a friend’s sister. People are such strange creatures, aren’t they?”

In that moment, Xiao Liu’s face floated up in my mind.

Suddenly I remembered something he told me: “If something happens to me in there, could you buy a lottery ticket for me?”

That was when he went in to rescue Liu Yinyan. Back then I thought it was pointless—he and Wu Zui were in it together, so he was never really in danger. But now I wonder if, at that moment, Xiao Liu hadn’t yet joined with Wu Zui. Maybe he really was putting his life on the line.

Even when Gu Chen and I mocked him, not once did Xiao Liu try to defend himself. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was helplessness. Maybe he just wanted to protect his friend’s family.

I remembered the look Xiao Liu gave me at the end—it was so lonely, and so terribly sad.