Chapter Nine: So Close at Hand

The news that Ye Dong had acquired the True Samadhi Fire through a stroke of fortune soon reached Liang Lingzhi and the others.

When the two returned to the paper effigy shop, everyone was already there waiting for them.

As they entered, An Dachun flashed a mischievous grin, stretched out his hands, and asked, “Xiaobao, can you see the blazing Samadhi Fire burning in my hands?”

Before Ye Dong could reply, Mu Xiaobao gave a cold snort and, putting on a serious face, looked at An Dachun’s hands with disdain. “I see it clearly. It’s a raging inferno! And not just your hands—there’s fire in your eyes and burning beneath your belt as well!”

Instead of getting angry, An Dachun played along, lowering his head to examine his belt area and muttering, “This is no mere Samadhi Fire—this is my own Pure Yang Flame!”

Mu Xiaobao, hearing this, glanced downward himself, then clasped his hands in mock salute and laughed. “I must admit, Brother Dachun, your Pure Yang Flame seems even fiercer than my own Virgin’s Desire Fire!”

Dachun returned the gesture, grinning broadly. “Brother Xiaobao, you’re too modest! Far too modest! Ha! Hahaha!”

The two of them burst into hearty laughter, becoming so absorbed in their act that they genuinely took themselves for exalted masters.

Their antics lightened the mood, drawing smiles from everyone present and easing some of the tension and gloom that had built up over the past few days—a much-needed relief.

Some might wonder at this point: don’t Liang Lingzhi and the others need to work for a living?

It’s a fair question. Liang Lingzhi’s father is a well-known entrepreneur in the city, with businesses in finance and health industries. His mother is a formidable businesswoman in education and training. Liang Lingzhi himself never cared much for academics, preferring basketball and movies. Luckily, his parents didn’t force him down a conventional path—they invested some money for him, and he quickly started a special effects business with another partner. Though both seemed carefree in daily life, they worked seriously when it mattered, and before long, they advanced from managers to minor shareholders. Joint prosperity, one might say.

Ye Dong’s phone rang—it was a message from Officer Li: “Come quickly, Fang Qiang has been caught!”

Clutching his phone tightly, Ye Dong shouted to Xiaobao and the others, “Officer Li has captured Fang Qiang! We finally have a major breakthrough!”

...

Officer Li pushed open the door and entered, finding Fang Qiang tightly bound and wearing a sinister smile, his gaze fixed intently on the ceiling.

“Fang Qiang, we meet again.” Officer Li sat opposite him and asked, “What’s so fascinating about the ceiling?”

Fang Qiang kept his eyes on the ceiling, a sly grin on his lips. “I see my master tormenting the souls of Zhao Aotian and Lu Ye.”

Officer Li sneered. “Stop spreading your nonsense. My subordinate told me he apprehended you before you made the call.”

With a slow, mocking sneer, Fang Qiang let out a single word: “Childish.”

Seeing Fang Qiang’s stubbornness, Officer Li snapped, “Enough talk—give me the code to the safe.”

Fang Qiang glanced at him sideways. “Should I call you an idiot, or just say you’re sick? Once you open the safe and get the evidence, you’ll have me executed sooner or later. Why would I ever give you the code?”

Officer Li chuckled. “You make a good point. Without your confession, we can’t get the evidence to convict you.”

Fang Qiang eyed him warily. “As long as you understand, stop wasting everyone’s time and let me go.”

The standoff dragged on until a voice came from outside the interrogation room. “Chief, something’s up.”

Leaving Xiao Yang to watch Fang Qiang, Officer Li stepped outside to find Ye Dong and his friends had arrived. Confronted with the cunning and cautious Fang Qiang, Officer Li seemed to have a plan. After a whispered discussion with Ye Dong and the others, he smoked a cigarette alone, then returned to the interrogation room with a grim expression. “Xiao Yang, lock him up for twenty-four hours before you let him go.”

Xiao Yang was bewildered and said as much: “We went through all that trouble to catch him—why release him now?”

Officer Li fixed his gaze on Fang Qiang. “We searched his house and found nothing. He’s cocky, so let’s keep him in for a day.”

Fang Qiang, expecting as much, sneered, “Such fine police work—can’t solve a case, but know how to abuse your authority.”

Officer Li gritted his teeth and pointed at Fang Qiang. “Watch yourself! Don’t give me any handle to use against you!”

Twenty-four hours later, Officer Li released Fang Qiang as promised.

Stretching and rubbing his bleary eyes, Fang Qiang swaggered out of the station. “Thanks for the hospitality, Officer Li!”

Xiao Yang fumed. “Chief, what’s going on? Isn’t the handwriting analysis enough evidence?”

Officer Li shook his head. “It’s not enough. And if he gave us a fake code, all the evidence inside would be destroyed.”

Just as Fang Qiang reached the police station entrance, he noticed several burly men lurking in the corners of the street outside, all eyeing him with menacing intent. None looked friendly.

He steadied his nerves and took a few steps forward, only to see more men watching him from a van across the street, as if waiting for him to approach.

Fang Qiang’s anxiety grew. “Why are these guys watching me? Are they police sent to keep tabs on me?”

But a second thought crossed his mind. “No, from their demeanor and attire, they don’t look like cops. Could they be my master’s people?”

He stopped and turned to head back, but two burly men strode toward him. Fang Qiang recognized the tattoo on one of their necks instantly.

“That’s Lord Snake’s mark! They are my master’s men after all!” A surge of terror and dread welled up inside him. “Could Master suspect me? No, impossible! I’m loyal—he’d never doubt me!”

Suddenly, a heavy blow struck his head, and he lost consciousness.

Who knows how much time passed before Fang Qiang groggily opened his eyes to find himself imprisoned in a pitch-black, foul-smelling place.

He shook his head, trying to recall what had happened before he blacked out. “Where am I? How did I end up here? How long have I been locked up?”

A wave of pure terror surged up from within. “Was I captured by the tattooed men?”

“No, Master wouldn’t have had me taken—he wouldn’t!” He tried to convince himself, but the more he did, the heavier his unease became. The more he thought, the greater his fear, until finally, he shouted at the top of his lungs,

“Who are you? Let me out! Let me go!” Fang Qiang’s cries for help grew hoarse as he screamed,

“Help! Somebody help!”

He shrieked himself hoarse until a cold voice answered him from the darkness:

“There’s no point shouting. No one’s coming to save us.”