Chapter 5 Unexpected Gain: She Appears in My Dreams

The two mismatched men, startled awake by the sound of police sirens, scrambled in a panic as a towering figure barreled toward them. In their haste, they fled erratically, but Jo Mu-Ting caught up swiftly, kicking the fat one to the ground. Two steel rods on the ground pinned his ample belly, prompting him to shout, “Boss, Brother Shan, run! Don’t worry about me!”

Jo Mu-Ting stepped over his hefty form and lunged forward to seize “Shan.” The man tried to fight back, but Jo executed a perfect suplex, throwing him down. In an instant, police officers surged in from outside and surrounded them.

Amid the chaos, Qian Lai quietly slipped toward their hideout and opened the burlap sack lying on the ground. What she saw made her gasp—these weren’t just fugitives, but a gang of ruthless thieves who stole artifacts without batting an eye.

She was about to examine the sack’s contents more closely when a voice suddenly shouted, “Fourth, run!” Looking up, she caught a glimpse of a shadow darting past. With no time to hesitate, Qian Lai vaulted through the window and chased after the fleeing figure. The wound on her foot, sliced open by a long nail, had already started to clot, but the force of her leap reopened it, soaking her sock with blood.

Under the moonlight, two limping figures—one fleeing, one pursuing—hobbled down the street. After weaving through two blocks, “Fourth” ran into a scrapyard near the steel factory.

Qian Lai stayed hidden, waiting in the shadows. The man knocked on the door of a small shack.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Fourth.”

“Oh, got goods? Drop them in the usual spot.”

Fourth glanced around cautiously, dragging his injured leg as he moved deeper into the scrapyard.

At that moment, the shack door opened, surprising Qian Lai—was this really something she should be witnessing for free?

The scrapyard’s owner, Fat Old Wang, cradled a woman in his arms. The woman playfully kissed his balding head, her tone coy.

“This is everything we own. Make sure you keep it safe,” she said, handing him a wooden box.

Fat Old Wang kissed her amidst her wrinkles, replying, “I’ll hide it in the cellar. No one will find it!”

Qian Lai drew a sharp breath. Qin Hongxiang—what a sly game she played. So the rumors about her and Old Wang next door were true. And Wang’s face—why did it look so familiar?

“You go hide it yourself. I’ll go check on Fourth,” Qin Hongxiang said.

Qian Lai watched as Qin Hongxiang placed the wooden box into the cellar, then swayed her hips back into the shack. She closed the door, and singing from the radio filled the night.

Time was of the essence.

Qian Lai crept down into the cellar. It was a small, rectangular space. One wall held shelves crowded with bottles and jars Fat Old Wang had collected. At the far end stood a barrel used for pickling vegetables.

She knew Qin Hongxiang well; she always hid things either in a barrel or behind bricks.

As expected!

It took no effort at all to find the wooden box in the pickling barrel.

Inside, she found cash, ration coupons, necklaces, and watches...

She swiftly stowed the valuables in her secret space and returned the box to its original spot.

Turning around—wait, what was that?

Beside the barrel lay a triangular rough stone, its surface tightly packed with dried mud. At first glance, it looked perfectly ordinary, but one exposed corner revealed the deep green luster of jade, reminiscent of Xiuyan jade.

It was strikingly similar to ritual jade artifacts unearthed from the Neolithic era in later years.

Having grown up attending countless appraisal events with her grandfather, Qian Lai could almost certainly judge this was a priceless treasure.

An unexpected find!

She tucked the artifact away in her space, planning to offer it to the country at the right moment.

Qian Lai quickly hid behind a tree, just as Fourth hobbled out with Fat Old Wang. After a brief exchange, Fourth turned and hurried toward the residential district.

Something wasn’t right.

Qian Lai felt an uneasy premonition. This man was clever—after trailing him through four or five alleys, it seemed he was leading her in circles.

Where was he headed?

Qian Lai grew impatient, not least because her ankle wound throbbed ever more painfully.

As she fretted, Fourth ahead ducked into yet another alley. Qian Lai hadn’t caught up when she heard a sharp female cry, “Ah! Help!”

She rushed forward, turning the corner to find Fourth gripping a young woman tightly, a sharp blade pressed against her throat.

The girl trembled in terror. “Don’t hurt me. I—I can give you money… Just don’t hurt me, please…”

Fourth ignored her pleas, glaring at Qian Lai. “Let me go! Or I’ll kill her.”

“Ah! Please… Sir… don’t kill me!” the girl pleaded, her voice quivering.

Qian Lai’s eyes darted. “Don’t be afraid, Fourth. I’m Brother Shan’s girlfriend; he sent me to find you.”

“Shan’s girlfriend? You’re not a cop?”

“Cop? No, not at all,” Qian Lai replied with a bright smile, slowly edging closer.

“Brother Shan was supposed to introduce us today. Who knew you’d keep me waiting so long? Then the police showed up. They helped me escape and told me to find you to discuss how to save them…”

With each sentence, she stepped closer.

Fourth’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, his grip on the blade loosening as he wavered.

“Fourth, I’ve heard so much about you. Look, this is Brother Shan’s token for me.” Qian Lai formed her left hand into a fist, pretending to offer something.

Fourth instinctively reached out. Seizing the moment, she spun agilely, slipped past his arm, and in one fluid motion drew her stun baton from her sleeve, jabbing it directly at Fourth’s neck.

A crackling burst of electricity, and Fourth dropped unconscious without even a struggle.

The girl, released from his hold, nearly collapsed in relief. Qian Lai caught her just in time.

“You…?” the girl sobbed, still shaken. “I really thought you were with them… Comrade, what’s your name? I want to write a commendation letter for you.”

Please don’t!

Qian Lai wished for nothing more than to remain unknown. The nighttime capture of a tomb-robbing gang in the abandoned factory would surely make the news. If Qian Jian-Gang and Qin Hongxiang discovered she’d been there, her entire plan would be ruined.

“That’s not important! Go call the police!” she urged.

Qian Lai told the girl where Fourth had hidden the stolen goods and escorted her to the hotel’s phone booth. By the time the girl finished her call, Qian Lai had vanished.

Elsewhere, Captain Xiao from the Criminal Police was gripping Jo Mu-Ting’s hand, thanking him repeatedly.

“Comrade Jo, if not for your vigilance—spotting a wanted criminal while buying a newspaper—we might never have caught this gang so easily. Thank you, thank you!”

Jo Mu-Ting’s mind was elsewhere. He only wanted to return and find the “little white rabbit,” his heart full of questions.

What was her name?

Where was she from?

Why had she come here alone on such a dark night?

He’d seen her limping—where was she hurt?

He searched all around but found no sign of her. He regretted not following her when she chased after the fugitive. One wrong decision, and she could have been in danger.

Later, he heard a girl had called the police, giving information on Fourth and the stolen goods. He rushed over, only to find it wasn’t the person he’d hoped for.

He listened as the girl recounted the whole story, feeling ever more anxious.

It had been so perilous! She was truly brave.

Raising his hand to his nose, he could still catch the lingering scent of gardenia that clung to her.

By the time he returned to his hotel room, it was already late. He took off his shirt, which still carried her faint fragrance. Draping it over his head, he closed his eyes, pretending she was beside him.

He greedily inhaled her scent, his body trembling slightly.

Damn it! He was seriously ill!

He cursed himself, but his moral boundaries could not restrain his will. In his haze, she entered his dreams.

In his dream, that soft, boneless form pressed tightly to his strong chest. Her hair brushed gently against his lips, her nose touched his throat. Her pale, slender fingers, carrying the scent of gardenia, lightly caressed his face.

The girl glanced up, as if inviting him.

His large hands grasped her mischievous, delicate ones, pulling her arms behind her back and drawing her close. Her hands were pinned behind her, yet she neither struggled nor fled. She gazed deeply into his eyes, her look full of desire matching his own.

Every dormant cell in his body came alive.

His willpower waged a desperate battle. When he tried to let go, her slender arms wrapped around his neck, and her soft, moist lips locked onto his without waiting for permission.

Her beads of sweat touched his skin. For him, it was no longer poison, but a blessing.

His throat swallowed involuntarily.

Where was his rationality?

“Ah!” He jolted awake, finding his shirt crumpled in his arms.

Damn it! That was the hotel bedsheet!

He panted heavily, not daring to close his eyes again.

Clutching the shirt with its unique scent to his chest, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

Ugh, it was starting again…

Sleep was impossible. He resolved that, at dawn, he would finally attend to serious matters.