Chapter Twenty: Blood Jade

When I awoke again, it was already two days later.

I opened my eyes in a daze and found myself dressed in hospital clothes, lying in a pristine white hospital room. On the table beside me were several cans of yellow peaches, a big box of assorted biscuits, and a few shriveled apples.

My throat burned unbearably, as if scorched by fire. I forced myself to call out several times, only to realize the pain was worse and no sound would come from my lips.

After a while, a nurse entered, saw I was awake, checked my eyelids with her hand, and hurried out to call the doctor. Jin Yitiao appeared with the doctor, standing at the door until my examination was finished before he came in. He looked at me and grinned, saying nothing.

I figured Jin Zhenbang must have already received news of my return. Judging from Jin Yitiao’s injuries, he had kept his promise—though some facial wounds had yet to heal, his spirits were clearly better than mine.

I could barely speak at the time, so I just listened as Jin Yitiao sat beside me and said he had come after receiving a call from Old Rong. Old Rong had stayed with me here for a whole day and night and left after Jin Yitiao arrived, telling him to pass on that he wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened. He had also kept something for me, and said I should call him after I was discharged and he would return it.

I had no clue what he meant by “something,” but suspected it must be related to my narrow escape from death at the hands of the drowned woman in the river.

As Jin Yitiao talked, I reached for the raisins on the table, chewed one, and grimaced. “What is this? I don’t like raisins.”

Jin Yitiao grinned. “I bought them when they were still grapes.”

I recuperated in the hospital for several more days, feeling much better. There was no news from Jin Zhenbang. I asked Jin Yitiao how he got out, and he told me that a doctor checked his injuries the night I left, and he was released the next day.

It seemed what I delivered to Hezi Village wasn’t particularly important. It was what happened inside that left a lasting impression, and I couldn’t untangle it all yet.

Back at the shop, Jin Yitiao wanted to hire a caregiver for me, but I refused. He said he would arrange staff for the supermarket and come see me as soon as possible.

Jin Yitiao ran a small supermarket on Old Street, the kind you find at the entrance to a residential area—you couldn’t even buy cigarettes over fifty a pack there. He traveled the country for goods, but in Tianjin he just watched over the supermarket, hoping it would provide steady income regardless of the weather.

After Jin Yitiao left, I called Old Rong from the landline. I didn’t mention the item; I just told him I was out of the hospital and invited him to the shop, determined to thank my savior properly.

Before all this, I never imagined Old Rong would actually come to my rescue, let alone find me in such circumstances. There were things I couldn’t remember after I lost consciousness, so I needed to ask him for details.

Old Rong looked like a simple, honest middle-aged man, somewhat like a big boss, but everyone in the trade feared him. Why? Because he was ruthless—never left anything behind. He could handle matters others couldn’t settle openly; even murder and arson, though he wouldn’t do it himself, he’d find the right people for the job.

I always felt uneasy dealing with him, unsure of his temperament, but when people in Hezi Village forced me to the brink, I had no other choice.

After the call, Old Rong soon appeared at the shop door in his black Santana, dressed in a black suit and sunglasses, a briefcase tucked under his arm. No sooner had he stepped inside than he reached out to me. “Hey, Master Bai, you’re up! Why not stay a couple more days? I’ve paid your medical bills through next month!”

I greeted him with a smile and extended my hand. “If you paid for ten years, I’d end up a vegetable.”

Old Rong chuckled. I invited him in and poured him a cup of Xinyang Maojian tea. Before I could speak, he opened his briefcase and took out a palm-sized piece of black cloth. “This is your item, keep it safe.”

I looked at him in confusion, and he smiled. “I found it in your hand. You were unconscious on the riverbank, but you clutched this as if it were your lifeblood. I figured, after everything you went through, you couldn’t leave it behind. So I kept it for you—now it’s back where it belongs!”

I took the black cloth, felt the hard object inside, smaller than a palm, but didn’t open it in front of him. I played it cool and slipped it into my pocket. “Someone else’s item—can’t let it go, no matter what.”

Old Rong removed his sunglasses, squinting at me. “That person’s?”

I gave him a meaningful look, and he nodded knowingly, savoring the Maojian tea.

He couldn’t clarify what happened while I was unconscious. After receiving my text, he rushed from Tianjin to Hezi Village, but couldn’t enter the village because of the river. He and his men searched along the riverbank and finally found me in the latter half of the night, nearly ten miles from the village. Luckily, Old Rong was persistent. I doubt anyone else would have found me so far away—I’d have stayed unconscious on the riverbank, waiting for some passerby to collect my corpse.

From his words, I could tell Old Rong was very interested in my deal with Jin Zhenbang. People like him admired figures like Jin Zhenbang, always seeking to get close but never play second fiddle. Seeing me associate with Jin Zhenbang, he wanted to forge a good relationship—a kind of risk investment.

We chatted in the shop, and I asked if he’d seen an old man or a girl crossing the river from Hezi Village that night. Without hesitation, Old Rong said no. He had people watching every crossing; that night, Hezi Village was unusually quiet—not even a dog barked. It was as if no one had crossed.

I gently rubbed my teacup. Professor Gu and Tong Xiaomeng, being prominent figures from Beijing—Tong Xiaomeng was a three-time swimming champion—probably wouldn’t be in much trouble. I didn’t need to worry about them. But the girl, Wu Xiaomei, nearly sacrificed to the river, weighed on my mind.

Truth be told, if not for her, I wouldn’t have gone to the riverbank. If not for her, I wouldn’t have been dragged into the coffin by the drowned woman, nearly dying twice in the river. Yet she simply ran off with the drowned woman’s item, leaving me almost a model of self-sacrifice. The more I thought about it, the more cheated I felt.

Wu Xiaomei, when she left, must have taken the blood jade from the blue-veiled corpse—a piece raised in a coffin with corpses since the Ming Dynasty. Even if its quality was poor, it would fetch a fortune on the market, and if sold, would stir up both the antique and jade worlds. But as an inexperienced girl, she’d have trouble finding a buyer and would certainly seek help from someone knowledgeable.

I asked Old Rong to keep an eye out for any news about blood jade on the market, especially those over four hundred years old, and to inform me immediately. I’d pay double for any information, insisting on getting the first report.

Old Rong readily agreed, saying he didn’t need payment—it was just a small favor. But I insisted on compensating him; any debt could be owed, but favors in this world must never go unpaid, lest one run out of time to settle it.

After Old Rong left, it was still early. I figured Jin Yitiao wouldn’t arrive until dinner, so I closed the shop’s doors, checked the windows, sat behind the counter, took out the black cloth from my pocket, and unfolded it on the counter.

A teardrop-shaped blood-red jade!

Slightly larger than a palm, the jade was entirely crimson, as if filled with blood, lying on the table. When I touched it, a warm energy seeped from my palm into my skin, coursing through my arm and flooding my entire body. My spirit soared, feeling far stronger than any nutrient infusion in the hospital.

I stared in awe—this was clearly the item given to me by the red-robed corpse in the river that night. Though I was half-conscious, nothing else was nearby. But hadn’t I lost this while wrestling with the blue-veiled corpse? How did it return to my hands?

I hurriedly switched on the desk lamp, holding the blood jade up to the light. Inside the jade, streaks and threads of blood-like brilliance flowed, making it seem less like jade and more like a living heart, pumping blood.

My own heart began to pound. I stood, turned the jade over in the light, and saw a line of characters inscribed on its surface:

A year from now, save a life in Shadow City!