Chapter 919: Going to the Bar to Find Someone

He Yuzhu lit a cigarette unhurriedly, took a deep drag, and then spoke: "Besides Shouhouzi, are there any other suspicious characters in your renovation team?"

Qin Tianzhen shook her head, her brows knitted: "We haven't found anyone else yet. Shouhouzi usually loves to drink and brag; he and Lao Li were birds of a feather, but ever since Lao Li died, he hasn't had any friends on the construction team."

He Yuzhu narrowed his eyes and flicked the ash lightly: "If he really was the one who dismantled the scaffolding, then he's ruthless enough to even harm his own friend!"

He Jia, who had been silent until now, was spinning a pen in her hand; she suddenly pressed it onto the table with a "clack" and interjected: "Dad, this man is rotten to the core... Someone told me that Shouhouzi has been running to Sanlitun a lot lately, often going to a bar called 'Yexiang'. The renovation team leader, Ma Zhanggui, told me that."

"Have you gone to scout it out?"

He Jia nodded, her gaze darkening: "I went. The bar's Boss goes by the nickname Black Cannon; he's a prominent figure in the underworld who specializes in acting as a go-between for desperate criminals. He has very wild connections."

She paused, lowering her voice a few notches: "That monkey—don't let his thin, small frame fool you; he looks like a bamboo pole, but his Kung Fu is nothing to sneeze at."

"Then why did you keep him on in the first place?"

"He works efficiently! While it takes others two days to set up scaffolding, he can finish it in one." He Jia said, curling her lip.

He Yuzhu stubbed out his cigarette, stood up, and threw his jacket over his shoulders: "I'll go check out that bar tonight."

At ten o'clock at night, the neon lights of Sanlitun were burning brightly.

He Yuzhu changed into an inconspicuous jacket and jeans, hailed a taxi, and found the place.

Yexiang Bar was hidden inside an old factory building. The exterior was still mottled red brick walls, with rusted exhaust pipes crawling all over the wall like the vines of an old tree. Above the iron door hung a neon sign; the two characters for "Yexiang" flickered on and off, the pinkish-purple light pulsing as if telling others how unique this place was.

Pushing the door open and walking in, He Yuzhu was taken aback—the interior was unexpectedly spacious, with ceilings at least seven or eight meters high. In the center was a circular stage, surrounded by scarlet booth sofas. The leather surfaces were polished to a shine, glowing with an ambiguous luster under the dim lights, looking enough to make one feel feverish all over.

A show was currently playing on stage; several foreign women with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing the absolute minimum amount of fabric, were flying up and down around several stainless steel poles.

They spun around with the poles clamped between their thighs, swinging back and forth. The customers below were whistling, shaking their wine glasses, and bobbing their heads; the atmosphere was heated like a boiling pot.

He Yuzhu had no interest in watching the performance. He picked a booth in the corner and sat down, but his eyes had long since drifted to the distance—there was a hidden door over there. It wasn't large and looked inconspicuous, but he noticed that everyone who entered or exited held a card in their hand, flashing it before being allowed through. It seemed that those without connections couldn't get in.

Just as he was pondering this, a woman in a short skirt walked over, clicking her high heels. She bowed slightly in front of him, her neckline dipping down to reveal two bulging mounds.

"Sir, what would you like to drink?" Her voice was as soft as honey.

"Whiskey." He Yuzhu smiled without even lifting his eyelids.

The woman curled her lips, her gaze circling his face: "You haven't been here before, have you, sir?"

He Yuzhu nodded and gestured with his chin toward the hidden door: "To go over there, I need a card, right?"

The woman smiled with deeper meaning: "A VIP Card, fifty thousand each, with a forty percent discount on consumption."

He Yuzhu didn't say a word; he pulled five thick stacks of bills from his bag and slapped them onto the table with a "clack." "I want to go in right now. How long until the card is ready?"

The woman's eyes lit up, and she couldn't stop grinning. "Right away! Right away!" Her body leaned in almost against him, the scent of her perfume drilling straight into He Yuzhu's nose.

He Yuzhu shifted to the side calmly and waved his hand: "Go get it done quickly."

"Alright, you're quite impatient," the woman teased, then swayed her waist as she walked away.

In less than a minute, a glass of whiskey was brought over. The amber liquid sloshed in the short, stout glass, and the ice cubes clinked against the walls—a sound that was quite refreshing.

He Yuzhu picked it up, took a small sip, lifted his eyelids, and looked toward the stage.

The four foreign women on stage had already changed the music and were dancing a Latin routine, their skirts flying like butterfly wings. The people below were all mesmerized, whistling one after another; the whole place was filled with the scent of hormones.

The woman from before came back, handed a card to He Yuzhu, and let her fingertips brush against the back of his hand inadvertently: "Sir, would you like some company? I can introduce someone to you..."

He Yuzhu looked at her and smiled: "I think you're quite nice; let it be you. Keep me company for a couple of drinks."

The woman was stunned for a moment, the smile on her face receding, replaced by a bit of reserve: "Sir, I'm not a hostess; you can't..."

He Yuzhu waved his hand, smiling lightheartedly: "You're overthinking it. I'm just looking for someone to talk to. By the way, what's your name?"

"Nana." The woman finally relaxed and started smiling again.

He Yuzhu ordered a bottle of Rémy Martin. Nana's steps were noticeably lighter, and she soon returned holding a bottle of wine. She didn't stop talking while pouring: "This wine is fifty years old..."

He Yuzhu didn't wait for her to finish; he reached out to take the glass, swirled it, brought it to his nose to sniff, and smiled: "Don't listen to those liquor peddlers' nonsense. This stuff is all blended; I know."

Nana blushed, bit her lip in embarrassment, and said: "You know... then I won't say anything. I was just afraid the guest wouldn't know and would feel cheated."

The two clinked glasses and downed them in one gulp. As the liquid slid down his throat, He Yuzhu smacked his lips and shook his head: "This wine of yours is fake."

Nana was stunned on the spot, her eyes wide as saucers, and she hurriedly waved her hands: "Impossible! The person who sells us the wine is a genuine Frenchman, through proper channels!"

He Yuzhu smiled nonchalantly: "Don't worry, I'm not asking for a refund. But you have to tell me, has your Boss met any foreigners lately? Or people from Hong Kong or Taiwan?"

Nana rolled her eyes and shook her head repeatedly: "No, really no. Actually, I don't know; I'm just a server. People come and go in this place all the time; it's not my place to worry about who comes and who goes."

He Yuzhu set his glass on the table, his smile fading: "Alright then, return the card and the wine. You aren't willing to say anything useful anyway."

Upon hearing this, Nana grew anxious. She bit her lip, twisting the edge of her apron with her fingers, and finally squeezed out: "Well... the Boss recently met an American-born Chinese woman. That woman is so arrogant; she looks at everyone as if they owe her eight million and haven't paid it back. She's the one I find most annoying."

When He Yuzhu heard this, the corners of his mouth curled up again. He slowly pulled a photo from his pocket and pushed it across the table: "Then do you recognize someone called Shouhouzi?"

Nana looked down and let out a snort of laughter: "Oh, I know this guy all too well! He doesn't come often, but whenever he does, he tells dirty jokes to us servers, making us feel ashamed and angry. But let me tell you, he's poorer than a church mouse; he can sit there all night with just one beer, and he always carries a sour stench on him, like he's been pickled."

"When was the last time you saw him?" He Yuzhu's gaze inadvertently darkened.

Nana tilted her head to think, her eyes lighting up: "The day before yesterday, the night before last, right around closing time. I don't know why, but he actually ordered some very expensive wine. He drank a bit too much that night and even pulled me aside, asking me to keep him company, offering two thousand."

As she spoke, she suddenly stopped smiling, stared at He Yuzhu with vigilance, and lowered her voice: "You... you aren't with the police, are you?"

He Yuzhu was taken aback, then grinned and pointed at himself: "Police? Look at me—do I look like someone on the government payroll?"

Nana glanced at him and couldn't help but laugh: "I've really never seen a policeman who spends money like you."

He Yuzhu didn't take the bait and changed the subject: "Do you know where your Boss is tonight?"

Nana shook her head.

He Yuzhu was unhurried; he pulled another fifty thousand from his bag and slapped it onto the table beside Nana's hand. His voice wasn't loud, but it made her heart jump: "This money is yours."

Nana stared at the stack of money, then looked up at He Yuzhu, then back at the money, several times over. Her throat moved before she whispered: "He recently hooked up with a minor singer; he should be at an apartment building near Yangguang Square..."

He Yuzhu stood up and straightened his collar. As he reached the door, he looked back at Nana, his gaze as cold as a blade: "It's best if the fact that you saw me tonight rots in your stomach. Otherwise, you won't live past this month."

Nana's face turned white as a sheet, and she nodded like a chick pecking at rice, her breathing becoming shallow.

He Yuzhu pushed the door open and slipped into the night, disappearing around the street corner like an ordinary customer who had just finished drinking.