Chapter Thirty-Five: The Master Diviner

The city is crowded and noisy, yet the men and women immersed daily in its sea of people do not necessarily possess equally vibrant hearts.

Amid the thriving metropolis, the heart is locked in a cage. The so-called loneliness amid crowds often mirrors the mood of urban dwellers.

Though each day is spent shuttling between subways and throngs, all is but a hurried journey; faces pass by in countless numbers, yet all remain strangers.

Such city life seems to promise endless encounters, but in reality, it is illusory and elusive; the pain of being lost can strike at any moment.

And you will never know when this city will erase, without a trace, any evidence you ever lived here.

Human society, in its evolution, has been transformed beyond recognition by a monster called the city…

In the central district of Zhongzhou, skyscrapers rise, traffic flows ceaselessly, and the air is filled with bustling noise—a scene of prosperity.

Leaving the police station, Zhang Yang drove Lin Hai and Lin Fan through the city, flamboyantly as Lin Hai instructed, finally dropping them off at the central train station before returning to the company alone.

The station square was teeming with people, lively and bustling.

Lin Hai weaved through the crowd, occasionally standing on tiptoe to look around. Lin Fan followed behind, bewildered, trailing aimlessly.

They circled the square time and again.

At this moment, a shifty young man suddenly blocked their path, speaking in a conspiratorial tone, “Gentlemen, interested in secondhand phones? I’ve got all the major brands!” As he spoke, he opened his coat, revealing an array of phones hanging inside.

“Get lost! I have no money!” Lin Hai waved his hand dismissively, rudely sending away this mobile phone vendor.

Lin Fan watched the young man’s retreating figure, sighing, “It’s not easy for young people starting a business.”

Lin Hai turned to sneer, “That fool? Shifty eyes and a rat’s face—business? Let’s hope his eyesight is sharp, or he’ll run into undercover cops and find himself in a real bind!”

Less than two minutes later, a woman carrying a child intercepted them, speaking in coded language, “Gentlemen, I have some beautiful girls, interested?”

“Scram! Do I look like a john?” Lin Hai wore an air of lofty indifference, but couldn’t hold out ten seconds before asking, “How old? Good figure?”

Lin Fan’s mouth dropped open, his eyes nearly popping out.

“Quality guaranteed, very exciting,” the woman leered, winking at Lin Hai.

“Uncle, how old are you? Have some dignity! At your age, still thinking about hookups? Can’t you behave yourself?” Lin Fan, seeing Lin Hai about to fall for it, pushed the woman away in a hurry.

“Ahem, just kidding! You have no sense of humor,” Lin Hai suppressed his wicked thoughts, saying, “Go on, we have things to do. But madam, leave me a card for future contact, eh?”

“Get lost, you pair of paupers,” the woman shot them a disdainful look, spat thickly, and walked away with her child.

Lin Hai muttered at her disappearing back, “Bah! What trash, not a shred of professional ethics! Looking down on people! Even if I had money, I wouldn’t patronize you.”

Lin Fan grew impatient as Lin Hai wandered about like a headless fly, nothing resembling a proper investigation. He finally grabbed Lin Hai, “Uncle, are you walking the dog? Can you tell me what we’re actually looking for?”

“A person—a master. To solve this case, we must find him first!” Lin Hai dragged Lin Fan and plunged once more into the throng.

Lin Fan could only follow Lin Hai helplessly.

After circulating among the crowd for a while, Lin Hai set his sights on a middle-aged man with an honest face, signaling Lin Fan to grab him. Without giving him a chance, they seized the man, taking him to a quiet corner of the square.

The middle-aged man, mistaking them for station police, trembled and pleaded, “Brothers, it’s my first time scalping tickets, I have family to provide for. Please be merciful, treat me as nothing, let me go…”

Lin Hai fixed him with a stern look and barked, “Behave yourself. That depends on your answers. I’ll ask you something, answer truthfully!”

“Ask, ask, I promise I’ll tell all I know,” the man replied, bowing repeatedly, pulling out cigarettes and offering them.

Lin Hai slapped the cigarettes away, demanding, “Don’t play games! In your ticket scalping business, there’s someone called 'God of Wealth.' Don’t tell me you don’t know him?”

“I know, I know,” the man relaxed, realizing they were seeking someone, picked up the cigarettes, wiped them off, and put them back in his pocket.

Lin Hai grabbed the man’s collar, pressing further, “Where is he?”

“Uh—loosen up—I’ll talk…” The man was nearly suffocated.

“Uncle, you’re choking him, how can he speak?” Lin Fan quickly pried Lin Hai’s hand away.

“Thank you, young man!” The middle-aged man now understood these two weren’t police, but still dangerous. “Don’t worry, the God of Wealth has been low on cash lately. Heard he caught something nasty while moonlighting at night, needs lots of money for treatment. He thinks ticket scalping doesn’t pay, so he quit and started fortune-telling! Apparently conned quite a few people, made loads of money! Well, he got what he deserved—live fast, die young! At this time, you’ll find him at the overpass.”

Eager to send these two harbingers of misfortune away, the man embellished everything he knew and didn’t know.

Lin Hai gestured for Lin Fan to hold the man’s hands, then rummaged through his pockets, finally retrieving several bills from a hidden pocket, nodding with satisfaction before pushing the man away. “Illegal earnings, confiscated! Get lost!”

“Thank you, gentlemen, hope we never meet again!” The man cared little about the money, turning on his heel to flee.

Lin Fan stared at the disappearing figure, then at the faded tickets in his hand, complaining, “Uncle! Why didn’t we bring him to justice?”

Lin Hai pocketed the bills, scolding, “Mind your own business! Without them, how many people wouldn’t make it home? You want to interfere in everything—getting too deep into the act, aren’t you? We’re fake cops! Justice, my ass!”

“But he was selling fake tickets!” Lin Fan persisted.

“When fake becomes real, even real becomes fake! When you can’t get a ticket, just getting on the train is good enough. Come on, let’s get to work.”

With that, Lin Hai strode toward the overpass.

Lin Hai and Lin Fan crossed the square, ascending the overpass, which was filled mostly with travelers from out of town.

A variety of people hurried across the bridge, but on either side, the railings and steps were neatly occupied by those making a living by sheer performance. On the left, all were beggars; on the right, all fortune-tellers. As if by agreement, they kept to themselves, never interfering.

Lin Hai immediately spotted the man he sought, pointing him out to Lin Fan, “See that slick, powdered face, dressed to the nines, with a lecherous look? That’s our man, the God of Wealth—Bai Juncai, known in the business as the Master Diviner.”

Following Lin Hai’s finger, they saw a decadent young man, as if discarded after years of living off others, earnestly holding the hand of a fashionable middle-aged woman, reading her palm. Both wore expressions of pleasure, nauseating to all who watched.

“Really does look like a gigolo,” Lin Fan agreed.

Lin Hai saw Bai Juncai fishing for clients, reluctant to disrupt his business, so he endured, pulling Lin Fan to squat among the beggars and wait.

This instantly aroused the beggars’ ire: “Who are these two idiots?” “Trying to take our spot? Don’t know the rules?” “Should we teach them a lesson?” “Forget it! They didn’t even change clothes or powder their limbs, they won’t get any business anyway!”

The two endured the questioning and the curious stares of passersby, time dragging unbearably.

But twenty minutes later, Bai Juncai and the flashy woman were still flirting unabashedly.

Lin Hai’s patience snapped. He strode forward and forcibly pried their hands apart.

Who dared to ruin his business in broad daylight? Bai Juncai was startled, but upon seeing Lin Hai, he raised his brows and smiled silently, as if greeting an old friend, calmly sitting to watch the drama.

“You old man, don’t you know about taking turns? I wasn’t finished! Why are you so impatient?” The amorous woman was rudely interrupted, her mood soured, and she shouted angrily.

Lin Hai, not wanting to argue, retorted, “I’m his father-in-law! Want to keep rubbing hands with him?”

Caught in a compromising scene? Oh heavens! Would she be dragged through the streets in disgrace? With that thought, the woman hurriedly retreated, excusing herself, “Uh—this young man’s quite nice, was just praising his wife’s skills! You chat, I need to go home and cook for my grandson…”

Before she finished, the woman fled in disarray.

Bai Juncai, seeing his client scared off, laughed and cursed, “You’re still alive, you old bastard! Always ruining my business—nothing good ever comes from seeing you!” He glanced at Lin Fan, “This young man is?”

Lin Hai, unfazed by his old acquaintance, boasted, “My apprentice. Business is so good, one man can’t handle it. Come, nephew, say hello to Uncle Bai!”

Lin Fan stepped forward, nodding, “Hello, Uncle Bai!”

“Apprentice or nephew? That’s messy. Just call me Old Bai, it sounds better.” Bai Juncai chuckled, gesturing for them to sit, then turned to Lin Hai, “Well now, you’re doing well—taking apprentices already?”

Lin Hai sat opposite Bai Juncai, grinning, “Of course. But Old Bai, your tastes have gotten stranger. That woman’s no rich lady—dressed like a clown, scary! You really went for it—how long has it been since you had a real meal? Wait, didn’t you say you were partying every night and caught syphilis?”

Lin Fan, taking a stool, found himself oddly pressured by Bai Juncai’s gentle, amiable demeanor, so unlike Lin Hai. He’d never felt this even when facing the Messenger of Hell.

He couldn’t help but scrutinize Bai Juncai, “He looks simple and straightforward, but there’s an air of mystery about him—tight-lipped, hiding something deep!”

“Nonsense! Don’t listen to those stray dogs barking! Scalping tickets doesn’t pay, so I changed trades. Didn’t you see that black ruby ring on her finger? It’s vintage, worth a fortune. Judging by her getup, she doesn’t even know it. Why else would I bother? Just about to score, then you… sigh—what’s meant to be will be, what’s not can’t be forced! Money’s hard to make these days!”

Even switching trades hadn’t brought Bai Juncai much success; he still endured slander from rivals.

Lin Hai eyed the woman’s distant figure, hesitated, then gave up chasing her. He leaned in, “Hey, Old Bai, it’s perfect. I need some advice, paid service, more reliable than that woman, and can help you out. How’s that?” He glanced at Bai Juncai’s crotch.

Lin Fan looked down as well.

Bai Juncai, as if exposed, quickly covered his crotch and cursed, “Bah! All rumors—those idiots can’t stand my success, and you, old fool, believe it? Don’t pester me, I’m busy!”

Lin Hai dropped his playful facade, grabbed Bai Juncai’s hand, and said seriously, “Just a joke, Old Bai. But I have urgent business—if you help, I’ll make sure you’re well rewarded! Let’s find somewhere private to talk?”

“Really?” Bai Juncai immediately pulled his hand back, wiped it on his clothes, and eyed them suspiciously. Seeing Lin Fan’s honest face and Lin Hai’s earnest nod, he relented, “Heh, at least old friends are reliable! Come, let’s go to my place and talk!”

Bai Juncai packed up his stall and beckoned Lin Hai and Lin Fan down from the overpass.