The child Ren San dragged Lin Feng back to the yacht by his hair. At this point, Director Lin had no strength left to resist—his body curled up like a ball as Ren San tossed him onto the deck. I was still wary of him escaping. Normal ropes wouldn't hold him, so I was debating whether to sever his Achilles tendons or just chop off both feet. Unexpectedly, Ren San noticed what I was thinking. He made a face at me and said, "Dummy, I don't care if you chop off his feet. Just don't get blood on my boat. I just bought this thing, haven't had my fun yet—staining it with some dead guy's blood would ruin it."
Then Ren San flashed that mischievous, childlike grin and said, "You just want to keep him from moving, right? That's easy." As he spoke, he squatted beside Lin Feng and casually grabbed his ankles with his chubby little hands. With a light squeeze, Lin Feng's body jolted as if he'd been electrocuted, twitching violently. A moment later, Ren San let go. I looked and saw that Lin Feng's lower legs had collapsed at the ankles, with a palm-sized flap of flesh dangling loosely. It was only then I realized—Ren San had yanked the bones clean out of his ankles.
Seeing Lin Feng still convulsing, Ren San spat on the deck and muttered, "Damn stiff bones! Already half-dead and still know how to feel pain." Then he ignored both the twitching Lin Feng and my gaping expression, hopping back up to the railing to swing around like nothing had happened.
Once things calmed down a bit, Yang Xiao finally made his way over to the yacht—dragging his feet the whole way. In front of this old man and child, he didn't dare act up, not even taking the main stair. Only when one of the foreigners behind Gui Bu Gui lowered the rope ladder did Yang Xiao cautiously climb up.
After boarding, he didn't even glance at Gui Bu Gui. Eyes forward, he walked straight toward Ren San. As he passed me, he treated me like air. When he got to Ren San, he dropped to his knees, kowtowed respectfully, then stood and bowed again. "Grandpa San," he said with reverence, "may you enjoy eternal fortune."
His tone was deeply respectful, completely devoid of insincerity or flattery. Even I was blushing just watching this—didn't he just call the old man "Second Uncle"? Now he's calling the kid "Grandpa"? What kind of generational mess is this?
Ren San, still rocking on the rail, lazily replied, "Good boy. Go play with that old fart. Grandpa San will give you candy later." Yang Xiao kowtowed again before walking over to Gui Bu Gui. This time he didn't kneel—just gave a proper bow and said with a smile, "Second Uncle Gui, it's been nearly three hundred years since we last saw each other in the sixth year of Yongzheng. I heard you and Grandpa San went overseas. Thought I'd never see you again. Who'd have thought fate would let me meet you both again in this lifetime…"
Is this really the same Yang Xiao I knew? The same man who once vowed to slaughter the world to resurrect his lover? Watching him now with his groveling tone and obsequious grin—if you gave him a Republican-era outfit and a Mauser pistol, you'd think we'd time-traveled back 70 years. Damn it, I'm embarrassed just thinking about it.
Gui Bu Gui looked at him with a half-smile and spent a good while catching his breath before replying, "How many times do I have to tell you? You and Ren San's ranks are aligned—don't lump me in. Every time you mess up the hierarchy, he takes it out on me. From now on, just call me Mister Gui, or Old Gui—hell, even Gui Bu Gui is fine."
Before Yang Xiao could respond, Ren San cut in with a glare. "Why should he? He's been calling us that for hundreds of years, why change now? Listen up, Yang brat—if you call me Grandpa, then you have to call him Second Uncle." Then he shouted at Gui Bu Gui, "Old fart! You're second-born, right? Would you rather he call you 'second brother'? If you're okay with that, then fine by me!"
Gui Bu Gui didn't bother replying—just gave Yang Xiao a weary look and said, "Call me whatever you want…"
While the old man and the child were bickering, Yang Xiao stood straight as a rod in front of Gui Bu Gui, respectfully silent with an expression of solemn reverence, though his eyes darted left and right. When Gui Bu Gui finally finished, Yang Xiao's expression relaxed a bit and he smiled, saying, "I've heard that the two of you were old friends of Director Wu. Now that you're back, does Director Wu know? Would you like me to contact him, have him come and reunite with old friends?"
At that, Gui Bu Gui gave a strange little smile, glanced at Yang Xiao, and said, "Director Wu… hehehe. Since when did Wu Mian's name get dressed up with a title? I heard he joined some kind of bureau thirty years ago. Ren San and I even thought about coming back to see who had the guts to put Wu Mian in a cage. If it weren't for that little incident right before we left, we might have returned sooner. And then you wouldn't dare be using Wu Mian's name to try and one-up me."
After speaking, he gave a dry, eerie laugh—one that made Yang Xiao shudder, despite the blazing sunlight.
After Gui Bugui finished speaking, Ren San jumped down from the railing and landed on a chair, half-lounging as he looked at Yang Xiao. "Listen up, Yang brat. Here's a little tip for you," he said. "This time it was Wu Mian who called the two of us back—to clean up your mess. Otherwise, what do you think? That we'd leave our comfy lives behind just to come out here and sniff sea breeze?"
At these words, Yang Xiao was completely speechless. His already pale face had turned nearly translucent.
I hadn't been able to get a word in during their reunion, but by now, I'd pieced together most of their relationship. This old man and the child clearly knew Wu Rendi, and they seemed to have a pretty close bond—possibly even lived together for a long time. Gui Bugui, the old man, was clearly the same kind of being as Wu Rendi. The main reason I didn't recognize him at first was because he was almost completely bald.
As for the child, Ren San—I just couldn't figure him out. His aura was unlike anything I'd ever encountered. When we first met, I couldn't sense him at all; it was like he didn't exist. But after spending some time together, I began to detect a presence from him—crystalline and clear, like living crystal. It wasn't quite human; it was like flower and grass, bird and beast—everything and yet nothing like a person.
And then there was Yang Xiao and his relationship with the two of them. Apparently, they'd met centuries ago, and Yang Xiao had clearly suffered a major loss at their hands. So much so that even after all this time, his first instinct upon seeing them was to kneel and grovel. He knew Wu Rendi was connected to this old-and-young pair, but he didn't understand the depth of their bond. That's why he made the mistake of trying to use Wu Rendi's name to keep them in check—only to end up hoisted by his own petard.
Still, since Yang Xiao had called Wu Rendi "Director," Gui Bugui and Ren San weren't planning to make things too hard on him. The real priority now was Lin Feng. He was a fish already in the net, and there was no way we could let him slip away again. I glanced at the still-twitching former Director Lin on the deck, hesitated for a moment, then stepped around Ren San and addressed Gui Bugui.
"Mr. Gui," I said, "since Director Wu was the one who asked you to deal with Lin Feng, and now that he's been caught, could you bring us over to that ship on the other side? I'll contact Director Wu and ask how he'd like to thank you both properly."
"Don't bother. You don't 'invite' Wu Mian to anything," Gui Bugui said with an oddly uneasy look on his face at the mention of Wu Rendi. He glanced at Ren San, then turned back to me. "Dummy, you've known Wu Mian long enough. Have you ever heard him say 'thank you'?"
He paused, then added, "To tell you the truth, I've seen it once. And that person… ended up with their head and body separated within the time it takes to drink a cup of tea."
Yeah… he says he'll spare someone, or not kill them, and that person always ends up worse than dead. I added that silently in my mind, filling in the unspoken truth of it all.
"That's why I don't dare accept any 'thanks' from him." Gui Bugui took a breath, then turned and said something in a language I didn't understand to the row of foreign men standing behind him. One of them, a brown-skinned man, bowed to Gui Bugui and led two others into the cabin.
Gui Bugui looked back at me. "Dummy, there's one and a half more people for you to take back. Our job here is done…" He hadn't even finished the sentence before Ren San cut in, shouting, "And make sure to tell Wu Mian that he owes me. That favor better be repaid!"
Just as Ren San finished speaking, the brown-skinned man re-emerged from the cabin with the two others, carrying someone between them. The man they carried looked sluggish and hollow-eyed, listlessly gazing at the world around him.
He wasn't a stranger—he was Hao Zhengyi, the man who, just a few days ago, had been stabbed by his own younger brother.