Chapter 57: I Have a Technique: The Loudspeaker

“What?”

Chu Tianshu doubted he had misheard.

“You mean the Western Poison from the wuxia movie?”

Hong Ying explained: “Of course it’s not really that person—just that the intruder claimed to be the Western Poison.”

As he spoke, the black-clad man brought over a file folder containing their investigated materials.

A subtle shift occurred in Chu Tianshu’s thoughts.

He had experienced crossing worlds himself, so he could not be certain whether the worlds depicted in fantasy works truly existed.

He had almost suspected just now that someone had truly crossed over from a wuxia world.

Only after reviewing the documents did Chu Tianshu understand.

The man who took Kong Wenju was originally named Zhu Heng.

Many years ago, Zhu Heng and his older brother came to the Macau region, starting nearly from nothing.

His older brother had exceptional business acumen, and within just twenty years became a prominent merchant with influence across the three regions.

In his early years, Zhu Heng worked alongside his brother and held substantial shares.

But as the company expanded and attracted investors, his shareholding was steadily diluted.

A few years ago, when his brother fell gravely ill, Zhu Heng conceived a wicked plan.

Though outsiders found no concrete evidence, his brother’s shares were transferred not to his wife and children, but to Zhu Heng.

Not long after, rumors spread that Zhu Heng had driven his nephew—the already-appointed general manager—to death in his office.

But soon after, Zhu Heng learned from his sister-in-law that the nephew he had driven to death was, in fact, his own biological son.

His sister-in-law then jumped to her death before his eyes.

And then… Zhu Heng went mad!

Many entrepreneurs across the three regions are wuxia enthusiasts, harboring a deep wuxia sentiment.

After going mad, Zhu Heng accidentally immersed himself in a wuxia story.

He was confined to a psychiatric hospital, where he firmly believed he was one of the Five Greats—the Western Poison—and the lord of the White Camel Manor.

He also believed he had a paralyzed, still-living nephew—actually his own biological son.

“So there really are such absurd real-life events.”

After reading the documents, Chu Tianshu murmured in disbelief.

Hong Ying nodded beside him: “I also think Zhu Heng is utterly bizarre.”

“He killed his own brother—what’s one more son?”

“He spent more time with his brother. After their parents died, he couldn’t gain another brother—brothers are rare, therefore precious. But sons? He could always have more.”

Chu Tianshu glanced at Hong Ying.

He and this Hong man were certainly not reflecting on the same thing.

Fang Jun took the documents and reviewed the entire sequence of events.

Hong Yong possessed a magical fan passed down from the Ming Dynasty.

Legend says the fan was meticulously crafted by Tang Bohu, its surface painted with a peach grove drawn by Tang Bohu himself, and inscribed with his own poetry.

Hong Yong had a flamboyant personality and often unfurled the folding fan when out in public.

It was likely because of this that Kong Wenju targeted him.

Kong Wenju used a trick to make him drowsy for a moment and stole the fan, but Hong Yong woke quickly and summoned his bodyguards to pursue.

A fierce battle erupted in the warehouse, and Hong Yong’s bodyguards had gained the upper hand.

Then Zhu Heng suddenly appeared, severely injuring all the bodyguards and taking Kong Wenju away.

“Wait a minute—when did Zhu Heng escape from the psychiatric hospital?”

Fang Jun raised a question: “And his strength has increased significantly since before he was admitted. Is the psychiatric hospital some kind of cultivation haven?”

Hong Ying said: “For the mentally ill, perhaps the hospital really is a good place for ascetic practice.”

“The deeper he cultivates, the worse his madness becomes—until the hospital can no longer contain or control him, he naturally walks out.”

Hong Ying lifted his teacup and took a sip: “As far as I know, he’s been out for over half a month.”

“At least four young men have been kidnapped, their legs broken, and abandoned shortly after—treated as his sons.”

“Probably because he realized that even with broken legs, they weren’t the son he imagined.”

Fang Jun questioned: “How come we haven’t received any reports about such a heinous case?”

“The Western Poison’s son is, after all, a pampered nobleman. Do you think the young men Zhu Heng targeted came from ordinary families?”

Hong Ying said slowly: “They don’t want Zhu Heng caught by you—they want him captured privately, brought home, and tortured to their heart’s content, to restore their honor.”

“Besides their own people, many others have recently been hired to join the search.”

Fang Jun snorted: “So you were planning the same thing all along.”

Hong Ying merely replied: “But now I’ve told you everything.”

Fang Jun asked again: “Where have these hired people gone?”

“With so many people active, if they were operating within Macau, we’d definitely notice.”

Hong Ying was frank: “They went to Hengqindao. It’s said Zhu Heng is there.”

Hengqindao does not belong to Macau, but lies just across a river from Macau’s three islands.

Moreover, ninety percent of Hengqindao’s land remains undeveloped.

A few years ago, rumors spread that Hengqindao would undergo massive development, prompting many to claim land and build there.

But soon after, the news of Elder Nie’s brain tumor triggered dramatic shifts in Macau’s gambling and business circles.

Many who tried to exploit the chaos went bankrupt—or vanished entirely—leaving their land transfers unresolved, with no clear timeline for future development.

Now, Hengqindao is littered with abandoned construction sites.

The sports car pulled up outside a vast stretch of abandoned development.

According to Hong Ying’s information, Zhu Heng was very likely nearby.

Chu Tianshu stared at the silver needles inside the plastic box.

The needles spun aimlessly, unable to determine direction.

Fang Jun said: “Looks like we’ll have to notify the police and bring in more personnel for a sweep.”

“Regular cops would be too vulnerable facing Zhu Heng.”

Chu Tianshu said: “Besides, Hong Ying said the hired men include several well-known figures—they’ve surely already scoured the area and found nothing.”

Fang Jun pulled out another cigarette: “Then what do we do?”

“Hmm…”

Chu Tianshu pondered for a moment, then suddenly said: “From the documents, this Zhu Heng is deeply immersed in his role.”

Fang Jun’s eyes lit up: “You mean, pretend to be his son to lure him out?”

Chu Tianshu shook his head: “His son’s traits—noble appearance, lecherous, able to summon snakes, broken legs?”

“Even if we mimicked these, it would be hard to express them strongly enough to attract his attention.”

Fang Jun frowned: “Then what’s your plan?”

Chu Tianshu rubbed his chin and looked up at the sky.

The sun slanted westward; the heavens stretched vast and empty.

Lone detectives, hired mercenaries, thugs, and bodyguards around the site munched on their instant meals, patrolling everywhere.

Another day was slipping away.

The bright moon hung high; the sound of ocean waves drifted faintly.

Suddenly, everyone heard a deep, majestic voice echoing from the top of the abandoned building.

“Old Poison!”

Someone was shouting through a loudspeaker.

“The time for the Mount Hua Sword Duel has come—I’ve arrived as promised. Where are you?”

Where are you?!

Where are you!!

(End of Chapter)