Chapter 27: Falsehood, Myself, and Reality

As the moonlight outlined the streets, Jiang Wan stood outside, yawning widely. The night air had grown a bit chilly. Usually, for the sake of convenience when changing in and out of her uniform, she wore her own clothes underneath, which were naturally much thinner than the uniform itself.

But no matter how cool the night wind was, it still felt more comfortable than the air conditioning inside the car.

She propped her arm up, tilting her head against the edge of the car window, hoping the night breeze would help dispel the drowsiness that kept creeping over her.

“This is really hard to endure… Having to stake out and watch him in the middle of the night,” Jiang Wan muttered through gritted teeth, bitterness in her voice. “If he doesn't want to talk, he could just tell me tomorrow…”

She whispered her complaints, when suddenly, the iron gate not far away creaked open.

In the quiet of the night, the sound was exceptionally clear, mingling with distant barking dogs and the chattering of birds in some unseen tree.

His departure was obvious—he carried a large plastic bag, and the way he turned back to close the door was calm and unhurried.

He walked down to the garbage collection point, threw the bag away, pulled out a tissue to wipe his hands, and then began strolling along the street.

“Got you now…” she murmured softly. Only after Chen Qing’s figure disappeared around the corner did she start the car and follow slowly from behind.

Tailing someone by car is difficult, especially on these empty streets.

But in the middle of the night, following on foot would be even harder. There were only two people on the entire street. Given what she knew about Chen Qing, she chose to wait until he had gone far enough before tailing him by car.

And just as she had expected, after following for about four hundred meters, Jiang Wan had to pull over.

She couldn't tell if Chen Qing had noticed he was being followed, or if he had simply reached his destination. He turned into a narrow alley at the end of the street—just wide enough for two people to pass side by side, and if someone came the other way, they would have to turn sideways.

Jiang Wan slipped out of the car, hurrying to the alley entrance.

Inside, the alley was dark as pitch. There was not a single street lamp, and the moon gave no light to the path beneath her feet.

She craned her neck to peer inside, but could barely make out the scene at the other end of the alley, never mind—

Wait.

Her expression changed instantly. Eyes wide, she pulled a high-powered flashlight from her waist, and with a click, the entire alley was suddenly flooded with light.

But where was the man?

There was no one in the alley!

Startled, she rushed forward a few steps.

“He was just here…” Jiang Wan tried to recall. Could she have been mistaken?

She bit her lip and returned to the car. Yet the in-car surveillance had clearly recorded it all.

So where did he go?

She looked up at the camera at the mouth of the alley. It seemed a little crooked, offering no view of the interior.

Frowning, Jiang Wan sighed.

“What a wasted day off. Time to go home.”

…

And Chen Qing?

At this moment, Chen Qing stood in the city’s most bustling center—the place that drew crowds of tourists and locals even past midnight. It was a district where the commercial zone merged with the night market.

He had already left the residential area long ago—ever since Jiang Wan had gotten into her car to follow him.

As soon as she drove off, he hailed a motorbike taxi heading north.

By the time he reached the intersection of Northwest Road, the throngs of pedestrians helped him relax considerably.

With so many people, no one would pay attention to a student walking by.

He bent down, pretending to adjust his shoe, while searching for the tree mentioned in the letter. Glancing around, he quickly spotted the mark about ten meters away.

There was a clear indentation on the trunk, two or three centimeters wide, at about chest height.

He squatted at the corner, hesitating.

Would knocking on it directly expose him? Could he wait for someone else to do it and then follow?

After a moment’s thought, he stood and made his way toward the tree.

But after just a couple of steps, several people briskly overtook him.

“Huh?”

They were fashionably dressed, but their bodies were unnaturally thin, their exposed skin stretched tight over bone. Their expressions were more than just excited—they were manic.

Even after sleeping six hours, Chen Qing couldn't muster that kind of energy.

He muttered quietly, his hearing sharper than most, and overheard the group’s conversation.

Or perhaps they simply didn’t care to keep their voices down.

They were boasting to one another, showing off.

Frowning, he slowed his pace.

“Damn. That idiot who ran out from that place…” Chen Qing muttered under his breath. As he expected, further down the street, police officers had also noticed the group.

The officers moved to intercept them, but barely had they done so when the leading youth suddenly slapped the officer across the face.

Chen Qing paused in shock, staring at the group.

“What are you looking at? Mind your own business before you get yourself killed!” One of the lackeys threatened, as if to charge at Chen Qing. He nodded and stepped aside, only to turn his head and watch covertly.

But within a matter of seconds, the group was subdued and pinned to the ground with practiced ease.

Yet the leader showed little sign of fear.

Chen Qing stepped closer, curiosity in his eyes. After a few glances, he began to turn away.

But the youths, noticing Chen Qing still nearby, seemed to take it as a challenge. They gritted their teeth and let out strange yells.

The leader, pinned to the ground, suddenly glared with savage intensity.

He addressed the officers in a bizarrely negotiatory tone: “Let me go! I can’t take it anymore. He has to die here tonight!”

Their muttering made little sense, but they showed no fear.

After a brief lull, the leader suddenly struggled and broke free, tugging at his tight pants and charging madly at Chen Qing.

“Wow.” Chen Qing gave a low exclamation, shaking his head. “These days… It’s rare to see a genuine lunatic.”

He sidestepped, and the youth collapsed right where Chen Qing had been standing a moment before, quickly restrained again by the officers.

Chen Qing shook his head in amusement and walked toward the tree.

Now, at least, he could use the spectacle as cover to check out the tree.

He surveyed the area as he approached. Many people stared at him—some were passersby, others perhaps accomplices.

But as soon as he entered a certain range around the tree, all eyes drifted away.

Their gazes shifted to corners and other directions, fixing on anything but him.

“Oh? That’s considerate,” he mused, frowning slightly. “But why?”

He stepped forward and rapped quietly three times on the tree’s hidden panel. A light flashed on beneath the tree.

“Welcome~ You are number twelve. Please proceed to the underground passage and enter the club between the thirteenth and fifteenth minute.”

Chen Qing paused, feeling a sense of oddness. Not only was there a line, but the process was highly modernized—a queuing system, no less.

He hesitated, then turned and left the street corner, following the letter’s instructions to the club's location.

Glancing around, he decided it would be awkward to just wait idly, so after a quick consideration, he chose the cheapest milk tea shop nearby.

After ordering and collecting his late-night snack, he sat down to wait.

After four or five minutes, a few familiar faces reappeared—the same manic youths, hands in pockets, wandering the street.

They scanned the pedestrians, searching for something or someone.

After a few minutes of being glared at by annoyed passersby, they finally waved at each other and ducked into a stairwell that sloped downward.

Chen Qing realized, with a frown, that it was the very place he was headed.

He sighed, thinking it all felt a bit undignified.

After waiting another six or seven minutes, he checked his phone. The time had come.

Across the way, only three people had entered.

“Your number is up, sir.”

A deep male voice sounded beside him. Chen Qing’s fingers stiffened, though he hid it well.

He gripped his cup, nodded, and said, “Let’s go.”

The man bowed politely, gesturing forward; once Chen Qing stood up, the man quickened his pace to lead the way.

He was sharply dressed, his suit crisp with a pocket square at the collar—a rare detail these days. He wore a hat, yet his hair remained unruffled. A monocle perched low on his face, almost at cheek level, its purpose unclear.

If one got close, there was a faint scent of cologne.

Chen Qing, clutching his cheap milk tea, felt little nervousness.

Casually, he followed. It was only after they left that the other customers began to gossip.

“Hey… did you see that guy? So over the top! Are rich people these days really that extravagant?”

“Bringing a servant just to have a midnight snack?”

“That just shows you don’t get it! Us rich folks always have the butler queue for us! Who wants to line up themselves? If foreigners saw, they’d think I couldn’t afford it!”

“You’re hilarious, man. If you’re really rich, just have someone come make it at home. Besides, that guy… his outfit was so plain. Must be a low-profile tycoon.”

“You’re right… That outfit definitely wasn’t designer.”

…

As Chen Qing left the shop, the rumors about him only grew.