Chapter Thirty-Six: Hidden Depths

Bai Juncai led Lin Hai and Lin Fan on a winding journey: first a few stops on the subway, then several transfers by bus, until they got off at a small station straddling the edge of city and countryside. The moment they stepped off, Bai Juncai glanced around furtively, motioned for the uncle and nephew to follow, and without a word, hopped onto a shared bicycle and plunged headlong into a shadowy alley beside the station.

Lin Hai had no time to second-guess; he grabbed a bicycle, tossed another to Lin Fan, and leapt onto the back seat. “Ride!” he bellowed. Lin Fan, accepting his command, put all his strength into pedaling, and they sped off in hot pursuit.

The trio raced madly through the alley, pedaling with a feverish urgency. By the time Lin Hai and Lin Fan were utterly exhausted—on the verge of collapse—a sudden crack, loud as thunder, echoed from somewhere ahead. A flash blazed before them. Their guide, Bai Juncai, finally halted before a tall, crumbling wall.

Glancing back with a sly look, he abandoned his bike, slipped toward a dog-sized hole overgrown with weeds at the base of the wall, and wriggled inside.

Lin Hai and Lin Fan stood stunned, at a loss.

“Dammit, Pretty Boy, are you playing games with us?”

“Yeah, Old Bai, is it really necessary to debase yourself like this?”

Bai Juncai seemed to hear their complaints and, glancing back to see they hadn’t followed, urged, “Hurry up, you two! Once the entrance closes, you won’t get another chance!”

The entrance would close? Did this doghole have some sort of self-repairing function? Lin Fan thought it absurd, looking down to see stains and a pungent odor wafting from the wall’s base. He recoiled at the indignity, glanced up at the towering wall, and said, “Uncle, why don’t we just jump over?”

“You think I don’t want to? But what’s on the other side is a different world entirely! You wouldn’t understand even if I explained. A true man knows when to bend and when to stand tall. Let’s go!” Lin Hai gritted his teeth. For the sake of business, he’d endure.

Reluctant as they were, the two swallowed their pride and crawled in after Bai Juncai.

After much wriggling and scraping, Bai Juncai led the dazed Lin Hai and Lin Fan into the basement of a building within the walled compound.

The moment they entered, a musty smell greeted them.

Lin Fan looked around. The space was neither large nor small, akin to an ordinary classroom, though the ceiling was low and there were no windows—no wonder the air was so damp.

Still, the room was impeccably tidy. A simple bed stood in the corner, the floor was paved with earthen bricks, and not a speck of dust was in sight.

Furnishings were sparse, the place nearly bare, but what little there was consisted of bizarre, archaic antiques.

A round wooden bed, a pyramid-shaped desk, each tier of the desk crowded with curious trinkets. Most striking of all were the rows of ancient bronze-colored wooden doors embedded in the surrounding walls, each carved with strange and intricate patterns.

“Old Bai, are you out of your mind? Every time I need something from you, it’s like surviving a heavenly tribulation! Are we filming a spy movie here? All this secrecy and humiliation, only to end up in your sunless dump! Is this really necessary? If you didn’t go to such lengths, I’d still find your den! Ah—choo!” Lin Hai, already short of breath, pinched his nose and sneezed, continuing, “You’re such a clean freak—how do you stand living here? How did things get so bad for you? Are you planning to take all your skills to the grave?”

He dragged over a high stool, sprang onto it, and began scanning every nook and cranny as if searching for something.

“People change! Men like us, do we still care about such things? Besides, didn’t you just bring me a business opportunity? Ha!” Bai Juncai sprawled unceremoniously on his spartan bed.

Lin Fan ignored their banter, drawn instead to one of the strange wooden doors. He ran his fingers over the exquisite carvings, marveling at the craftsmanship. What master had created such a thing? Could it be Bai Juncai? But he resembled neither a carpenter nor a craftsman. Perhaps these doors were portals to heaven or hell?

Curiosity compelled him; Lin Fan opened the door before him. As expected, behind it was a wall of concrete, identical to the other walls.

There was nothing unusual about it, yet Lin Fan felt a strange pang of disappointment.

Unwilling to give up, he moved from door to door, opening each in the hope of discovering something unusual. Each time, he was greeted only by a smooth expanse of concrete.

Lin Fan realized the room was full of false doors.

Unable to hold back, he asked, “Old Bai! Why do you have so many fake doors at home? Trying to confuse burglars?”

Bai Juncai, reading his thoughts, replied with a mysterious smile, “You have no idea! Behind these doors are tunnels through time, leading to the past and the future. Be careful not to mess around—if you’re accidentally sucked in, that wouldn’t be fun.”

“Bah! Who are you trying to fool? If I could really travel back, I’d go save my parents!” Lin Fan wandered to the pyramid table, idly fiddling with its many trinkets. Though he spoke offhandedly, his words betrayed a surge of buried emotion.

“Watch it, brat! Those things aren’t cheap. If you break anything, your uncle and you could work for ten years and still not pay it off!” Bai Juncai saw the sorrow hidden deep within Lin Fan and, with a cheeky grin, said, “Didn’t expect you to be so sentimental. You really want to try time travel?…”

Lin Hai jumped in, teasing, “Hey, Old Bai, am I invisible? Don’t tease the kid. Can we get down to business? Are you taking the job or not?”

Lin Fan glanced at Bai Juncai but said nothing, turning back to absentmindedly watch the sand trickling through an hourglass.

Bai Juncai raised his brows, pulled out a knockoff rainbow-screen phone, and waved it at Lin Hai. “You know the rules. No need for reminders—payment first, then work!”

“Come on, we’ve been brothers for years. Don’t you trust me yet? Have I ever stiffed you? Don’t be so mercenary,” Lin Hai pleaded, making a last-ditch effort to avoid paying up front.

Bai Juncai slicked a hand over his shining hair and sneered, “I know you too well. That’s why I have to insist! And remember the rare materials you swiped from me when you bought equipment last year, and the balance from the last job—pay those too! Don’t make me remind you how much you owe, eh?”

Lin Hai cursed inwardly, wishing he’d just transferred the money earlier. This bastard’s memory was too good—those were debts from who knows how many years ago! Forget it; if you want the wolf, you can’t be stingy with the bait. I’m not short on money—consider it a burnt offering.

He pulled out his phone and, grinding his teeth, transferred the funds, his fingers trembling as he hit send.

Beep beep! Bai Juncai opened the notification, nodded in satisfaction, and announced, “Dear client, how may I assist you?”

“Damn you, Pretty Boy!” Lin Hai growled, leaping from the stool to sit beside Bai Juncai. “Help me check: in this city, have any out-of-town gangs arrived in the past year or two?”

Bai Juncai, long used to Lin Hai’s temper, took no offense at the curses. Smiling as always, he said, “You know the rules—there’s information I can’t share. Tell me, what’s got you so worked up?”

“I know, I won’t make things difficult for you. It’s a matter that breaks the code—a series of missing girls. I’m sure it’s our own kind behind it. It’s got little to do with me, but for the sake of order—and with my, ahem, special status—why not earn a bit on the side?” He harbored a darker suspicion, though he kept it to himself, hoping he was simply overthinking.

Lin Fan was lost, unable to follow the coded exchanges.

“Ah, but you’re prying into others’ secrets. Dangerous business! This might be tough,” Bai Juncai said, feigning reluctance.

“Cut the nonsense. Do I look poor? Double the fee! How about that?” Lin Hai answered grandly.

Lin Fan, listening, easily read between the lines: I’ll reward you handsomely, but don’t hold your breath on when you’ll actually see it.

Yet Bai Juncai, as though he knew Lin Hai would always return, struck Lin Hai’s thigh with a hidden force and said, “Deal! Stand guard for me!” With that, he sat cross-legged, formed a hand seal, muttered incantations, and entered his unique secret method—brain cloud search mode.

Lin Hai winced, rubbing his leg and muttered, “Shameless Pretty Boy! Taking advantage of me! Dammit, you nearly broke my leg! Nephew, stand guard for your Uncle Bai’s soul!”

He beckoned Lin Fan to flank Bai Juncai and stand watch.

Lin Fan glanced at Bai Juncai in meditation, then at Lin Hai, who signaled him to keep watching.

“Brainstorm—Unlimited Search!”

Suddenly Bai Juncai’s eyes snapped open, shooting forth rays of colored light.

At his low cry, a three-dimensional miniature of the city’s streets projected from his body, filling the room.

Lin Fan stared in awe as the ever-shifting cityscape unfolded from a first-person perspective. “A 3D movie? How does he do that?”

Scenes flickered rapidly in Bai Juncai’s eyes. The room was silent, as if watching a silent film.

Lin Hai watched, eyes wide with excitement, while Lin Fan trembled with astonishment.

Finally, the shifting 3D panorama froze. Both leaned in, afraid to miss a single detail. The scene displayed a bar called “Alluring Night”—even the ants crawling by its entrance were rendered in vivid detail.

After a few seconds, the vision abruptly retracted into Bai Juncai’s body, and he closed his eyes.

Lin Fan, eyes shining as if he’d discovered a new continent, cried, “Old Bai! You have no idea how hot the film industry is right now! Why bother telling fortunes or being a gigolo? Why not open a cinema with me and put your talent to use?”

Exhausted, Bai Juncai nearly fell off the bed at Lin Fan’s words, barely catching his breath as he climbed back onto the mattress. “You rascal! You’ve learned all the wrong things from that old miser! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!”

Smack! Lin Hai cuffed Lin Fan on the back of the head. “Idiot! Didn’t you see the hair gel melting from his sweat? He’s so drained he can barely function. If he could do this 24/7, I’d have sold him off long ago!”

Bai Juncai hurled the wastebasket at them. “Get out, you two heartless scoundrels! I don’t want to see you again—I need to rest!” He felt dangerously dehydrated after the spell and, fearing the two would loot his belongings if he passed out, rushed to send them away while still conscious.

“Let’s get out of here!” Lin Hai dodged the flying wads of tissue, calling, “This place is bad luck—Old Bai, we’re leaving! Don’t miss us—till next time!”

Lin Fan followed, pausing at the door. “Old Bai, goodbye! If you ever want to change careers and make a comeback, find me!” He mused that Bai Juncai always spoke with an air of mystery and lived so unrestrained, yet with real skill, hiding away in such a place—if not an evildoer, then a man with secrets, nothing like his uncle. He resolved to visit again if the chance arose.

At that moment, Lin Fan’s curiosity about Bai Juncai was piqued.

Bai Juncai straightened, forcing out one last sentence: “Life is unpredictable, the world a chessboard—treasure each step. Be careful—the bar is their base! And don’t forget the rest of my fee! Now get out!”

Lin Hai shivered and bolted without looking back.

Lin Fan paused, turned, and smiled. “Thank you!” he said, then followed his uncle out.