Section 3: A Case of Mistaken Identity

Indoor camping had become a habit for Sima ever since he started working. Initially, he rented a duplex shell apartment at Feihong Apartments, which was completely bare, so he had to buy a tent just to get by for a few days. Life is full of surprises; after enduring that for a while, he found himself "opening a new world," getting hooked, and it became a normal part of his daily life. Since then, Sima had moved several times, deliberately choosing poorly laid-out shell apartments to rent, turning up his nose at fully furnished, high-end decorated ones. Living in a tent might sound shabby, but the expenses were actually considerable. The full set of gear included a backpack, tent, sleeping bag, moisture-proof mat, firewood stove, frying pan, cooking pot, kettle, camping lantern, folding stool, and many other small items. Altogether, they cost about as much as renovating an apartment. Sima earned a good side income and was willing to spend generously on this, though his personal attire remained plain, giving no hint of his financial means.

On the thirty-third floor, the wind howled fiercely, making the tent flap and crackle, evoking a vivid sense of sleeping outdoors. What he sought was precisely this feeling, not a wholesale imitation. Sima had no aversion to modern appliances. In fact, after moving into Ditang Elegant Residence, he gradually added an electric water heater, washing machine, refrigerator, microwave, and dishwasher—and used them frequently. These appliances provided comfort and convenience, complementing his "camping" lifestyle rather than contradicting it. Thirsty and parched after drinking, Sima downed two 500ml bottles of mineral water, took a shower, brushed his teeth and washed his face, tossed his clothes into the washing machine, pressed start, and didn’t give it another thought. Wearing just a tank top and shorts, he entered the living room, crawled into his tent, switched on the camping lantern, lay flat on his sleeping bag, exhaled deeply, and thought about contacting Lu Yu before drifting off into a light sleep.

In the middle of the night, Sima suddenly convulsed as if startled awake from a dream, but his eyelids seemed glued shut; no matter how hard he tried, he could not open them. Gritting his teeth, his whole body trembled, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, veins bulged at his temples, and beneath his skin, it felt as though something was crawling erratically, uneven and jagged. Waves of excruciating pain tore through him, yet he couldn’t move an inch and could only endure it silently. Just as one wave subsided, another surged forth. This inhuman torment lasted for several minutes that felt interminable to Sima. He lost all sense of time, thinking he had lived a lifetime and reached its end.

The pain came swiftly and left as quickly. Sima gradually calmed down, gasping heavily, drenched as if soaked in water. The camping lantern flickered dimly inside the tent. Without opening his eyes, he slipped back into a deep sleep, awakening only the next morning to a gloomy sky without sun. A plane roared overhead, slicing through the long stretch of sky. He rubbed his face, feeling refreshed and full of energy. The ordeal of the previous night had left no hidden injuries—a good omen. Since they were all in the same boat, mutual understanding and peaceful coexistence were the only lasting solutions.

Sima crawled out of the tent and headed to the bathroom, relieving himself with a long, urgent stream that left him satisfied. After a quick wash-up, he went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Quick and efficient, he steamed thousand-layer buns in the electric steamer, heated milk with the microwave, and fried steak on the gas stove. Within fifteen minutes, everything was ready and eaten right there in the kitchen. Sima loved the traditional Wu Xing delicacy, thousand-layer buns, which his hometown called “Hundred-layer Meat Wraps.” His family’s version couldn’t compare to Wu Xing’s, where the fillings were carefully selected, including dried shrimp and scallops, offering a unique flavor.

The camping lantern had been on all night, draining most of the battery. Before leaving, Sima found the charger and plugged it in for a full day’s recharge.

Even after the morning rush hour, traffic in Beizhi City remained heavy. Sima took the subway to meet Lu Yu near the company where Lu Yu worked, at Market Café. Sima didn’t drink coffee and ordered a hot cocoa with rum and cinnamon powder, which smelled delightful. The café was nearly empty during work hours. Lu Yu and Sima sat by the window, leisurely watching the street scene outside—a stark contrast to their serious conversation. Having recommended Sima to an old friend, Lu Yu did not intend to remain uninvolved. Although Lin Zixuan was in venture capital, his temperament wasn’t steady enough, and his understanding of Beizhi’s business district was superficial, which explained his current predicament.

Lu Yu handed Sima the prepared materials—a thin folder containing just a few A4 pages in large font, concise and clear. The documents detailed the relationships and shareholdings of Xie Tingshu, Chen Su’e, Sihai Group, and Kamikaze Communications, all laid out plainly and transparently.

Sima saw Xie Tingshu’s family situation: he had a eldest daughter named Xie Lian with his ex-wife; after their divorce, she lived with Chen Su’e and even changed her surname to Chen for a time before reverting to Xie. The woman who had supplanted the ex-wife was named Xue Yun, with a young daughter called Xie Anqi. The chaotic family drama made Sima chuckle silently. Noticing his change in expression, Lu Yu curiously asked. Sima closed the folder, patted it lightly, and said that, logically speaking, the two daughters were the “Achilles’ heel” of this ex-husband and ex-wife pair. Lu Yu’s heart skipped a beat, worried that Sima’s methods might be too extreme and hard to clean up afterward. Out of caution, he subtly advised him a few words.

Sima smiled and said, “Don’t worry. When you gain wealth from someone, you also take away their troubles. It’s like cutting tofu—smooth on both sides. This matter won’t involve outsiders…”

High-level corporate battles were always plain and unpretentious. Lu Yu’s confidence in Sima had been built through repeated successes. Since Sima was willing to take on Lin Zixuan’s case, he would surely resolve it properly. Professional matters were best left to professionals. Lu Yu said no more and slowly sipped his coffee. Sima glanced at him and asked, “You’re so eager to connect us just to help an old classmate? If Lin Zixuan’s venture capital firm gains control over Kamikaze Communications, what’s in it for you?”

Lu Yu twirled his pinkie and scratched his temple, revealing a bit of insider information. Their family business was a downstream supplier to Kamikaze Communications. Helping Kamikaze get listed and grow into an industry leader was crucial to their commercial strategy. He also suggested that after Kamikaze Communications went public, Sima and others buy some new shares and hold onto them. According to his judgment, doubling the investment was not unlikely. Sima paid no heed; he had no interest in stock trading or any form of investment. The money he earned simply sat in his bank account on a demand deposit, a long string of digits. His monthly transactions were frequent, and he had been repeatedly bothered by bank calls asking this and that, which annoyed him greatly. He warned them that if they called again to harass him, he would switch banks—and that was the end of it.

After leaving Market Café, Sima took the subway to Beizhi University. At the campus gate, he found a public phone booth and called Chen Lian. The call was cut off quickly. He dialed again, and after ringing for a long time, someone finally answered. Hearing Chen Lian’s long-missed voice, Sima felt dazed for a moment. Just as she thought it was a prank and was about to hang up, Sima’s hoarse voice urged, “I’m at the campus gate. Come out for a moment. Let’s meet.”