Chapter 368: Uninvited Guest

The following events are not really necessary to record, but since they are somewhat related to what happened later, I'll mention them as well.

Second Uncle left five days later. I don't know if they found anything else there; in any case, he told me nothing but agreed to have a good talk once we returned to Hangzhou.

Fatty and Poker-face weren't seriously injured. After receiving treatment, they were discharged within two weeks. We didn't return to Hangzhou immediately but went to Banai again. Fatty was certain that Poker-face had some connection to that place, and until we got more clues, we might have to stay there long-term.

Four days later, we went to that lake again, paid respects to the bones at the center of the lake, and erected a mound of earth.

Pan Ma never showed up again, which made me feel very guilty, but thinking of his sinful path, I felt it was also a kind of fate. Using my professional salvage equipment, I continued detailed dredging, hoping to get more clues. More items were brought up one after another, but nothing particularly critical was found.

Next, we planned to enter the ancient village and carefully examine the Zhang family building. But at that critical moment, all the oxygen tanks were depleted and had to be replaced.

As luck would have it, on the last day after finishing our dive, just as we were about to go ashore and head back, something unexpected happened by the lakeside.

We were still in the middle of the lake. As soon as we surfaced, Fatty called out, wiped his face, and pointed to the shore. I looked toward the shore and saw that besides Yuncai and the others, there were many more people, and they were actually setting up tents.

"Holy shit! What's going on?" Fatty said in surprise. "Did this place become a tourist attraction? Why are there more people?"

I gasped for breath and observed carefully. Among the new arrivals, many were villagers from the stockade; Yuncai was chatting with them. There were also some people dressed very urbanely, their origins unknown. More people were coming down the path we had taken, leading many mules loaded with bundles.

I didn't know any of these people. Fortunately, it wasn't Second Uncle coming back again.

Swimming slowly back to shore, I felt increasingly that things were strange. Those people had many mules loaded with large bundles. Several big tents had already been set up, and the rocky beach was bustling. A few people glanced over with slight surprise, but no one paid much attention to these guys in shorts coming out of the water.

We had no idea how to react. As we walked over to Yuncai and Agui, I suddenly spotted a person — the short, stocky guy with a full Beijing accent whom we had met at Old Pan Ma's place. He was shouting orders at the villagers acting as porters, looking arrogant and domineering.

I'd seen plenty of this type in the trade. Recalling what I'd heard earlier, he must be here with a Beijing boss, so these people were probably all brought by that boss. Could they have also extracted Old Pan Ma's story and come here to look for something? There were way too many people! He saw us and, since we had met before, greeted us. I couldn't be bothered to think more, returned the greeting, passed by him, and went to Yuncai to ask what was going on.

She said softly that she had heard from some villagers that a big boss had hired them to carry things here. Even those villagers didn't know the specifics.

This situation was rather awkward. I didn't want things to develop this way, but the lake was public property, so you couldn't tell others not to come. These people's target was that iron block. I didn't know if they knew the truth about the iron block or if they were simply here for salvage. I couldn't formulate a countermeasure.

Their people kept arriving; six or seven tents were pitched. Everyone spoke with a Beijing accent, making me feel for a moment like I was at Houhai.

We sat down, resting while warily watching them work. It was actually quite depressing, like playing on a basketball court when suddenly a bunch of people show up, all tall and strong and outnumbering you several times over. At that point, you can only obediently get off the court and rest.

Cursing inwardly, I carefully examined the things they had brought, trying to see if I could find any clues. Ignorance was bliss; when I saw, my heart sank. Among those large bundles, there were actually several scuba sets, and many supplies looked like diving equipment.

"They came prepared," Fatty snorted. "They know there's something underwater."

I thought for a moment and said to Fatty, "Could it be some old boss from Beijing coming here to hunt for goods? Do you recognize any of those people?"

Fatty said, "Beijing's full of middlemen and dealers. Hardly anyone in Panjiayuan actually goes underground themselves. I think it's unlikely. These people aren't from the old Beijing circles. I reckon they might be people we don't know. These days, new powers are popping up everywhere."

"You have a wide network in Beijing. Do you recognize even one or two?" I pressed.

Fatty shook his head. "I don't see a single familiar face. Let me take another look. But their Beijing accent sounds a bit off. Wait a moment, your Fatty here will do some snooping and see if I can find out who their boss is."

Fatty walked toward the busy camp, greeting one of them in Beijing dialect, but the guy ignored him. Who does Fatty think he is? He immediately followed him, and they walked off into the distance.

I wondered what I could do. Maybe wander around their camp to see what there was, or just go find their boss?

In the end, I did nothing, because the intense pain after diving made it hard to stand. My eyes and ears were also very uncomfortable, especially my ears—itchy and painful. Even hearing sounds felt strange. It seemed that this kind of diving was very harmful to the body.

Just as I was thinking about what to do, suddenly Poker-face behind me pinched my shoulder.

He pinched just right, making me shrink my neck in comfort. I thought to myself, this guy finally had a conscience and wanted to give me a massage, but then I heard him say softly, "Look."

I redirected my attention to the camp, looking for anything unusual, but noticed another group arriving from the woods on the other side. One person was being helped down from a mule. The short, stocky guy quickly went over to greet him. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the man was quite elderly; after dismounting, he walked unsteadily, unable to straighten his back. He had several attendants around him, and they all walked toward us.

I stood up to go over, but Poker-face held me back. I turned and saw him crouching behind me, staring intently at the newcomers. He said to me, "Don't let them see me."

"What's going on?" I thought, straightening my body to block Poker-face, watching them approach. The one being supported, who seemed like a big shot, was a tall but extremely thin old man. It was clear that he must have been very sturdy in his youth. Surrounded by several people, I couldn't see his face clearly. I only felt that he was very aged, walking without any strength, probably in his twilight years.

The people around him included both men and women, making the group more mixed. The short, stocky guy seemed to be making introductions as they walked. They talked and walked, but didn't come up to us; instead, they turned into a tent.

Only after they entered the tent did Poker-face release his grip on my shoulder. My blood flow had been constricted by his pinch, so I rubbed it a few times and asked him, "What? Do you know this person?"

He nodded, his face ashen, and said, "Jude Kao."

"Jude Kao?" I was stunned. "This old man is Jude Kao?" Then I almost jumped. Damn! These people were also from A Ning's company. This old man actually came personally.

For a moment, I didn't know how to react. Jude Kao had a fixed image in my mind — both certain and uncertain. He was a missionary with a face like Sven Hedin, but also somewhat like the great swindler Marco Polo. In my childhood, in the stories my grandfather told me, Jude Kao was the worst villain. I had even imagined him as a monster with a big head and wolf face. I never expected that he himself would be such a withered old man.

This preconception made me feel very strange, totally unreal. My grandfather's stories were like my childhood fairy tale books. Now, a character from those fairy tales had suddenly stepped out of my grandfather's notebook. For a moment, it felt very disorienting.

What was he here for? Judging by the setup, he knew about the things under the lake. After the Snake Swamp, he, like

Think about it again, it doesn't seem right. If they were following us, they couldn't have made more thorough preparations than we did. We completely didn't think we'd need diving equipment here, but they brought it, so they must know more, at least they knew earlier. I'm both excited and scared. This old man appearing here in person is definitely no small matter. At his age, long journeys are not suitable, so showing up now must mean it's a last-ditch effort.

What the hell is down there? Then I thought, the situation is troublesome now, our relationship with them is too complicated. My grandfather and Jude Kao were sworn enemies. Although I have no thoughts of revenge now, this relationship makes it impossible for me to have any goodwill toward them. And the grudges between Third Uncle and Jude Kao are even more tangled and messy.

Even if there is no hostility between our two sides, there is still a strong competitive relationship. With the enemy strong and us weak, I need to think carefully about how to handle the relationship.

Just take it one step at a time.

I suppressed my wildly pounding heart and thought of another thing—didn't Poker-face lose his memory? How could he know Jude Kao? And what is he hiding from? I turned around and asked him. He was still looking in the direction of the tent and replied, "I saw him once when I was in the hospital."

"Hospital? In Beijing or Golmud?" We were picked up by Jude Kao's people from the Qaidam Basin, but I don't remember running into him. He should have been hit harder than us at the time.

"Beijing," he replied. "Just the month before last."

That was when he was being treated in Beijing. Damn! Jude Kao had seen Poker-face? Why didn't Fatty tell me?

Then I thought again, that damn Fatty is absolutely loyal when it comes to brotherhood, but when it comes to taking care of people, he's definitely unreliable. When I was in Hangzhou, I had him watch over Poker-face, and he must have been half-assed about it. And with someone like Poker-face, it's tough for him to get along with anyone on his own. Without me there to joke around and smooth things over, Fatty's careless personality would have had them staring at each other in awkward silence. When Poker-face met Jude Kao, Fatty probably didn't know because he was off wandering somewhere.

Thinking of this, I wanted to curse. Poker-face was a major card in our hand—how could we not know that he had met Jude Kao? That meant if Jude Kao had been ruthless, he could have taken Poker-face away, and we would have been screwed. Fatty was too careless! And Poker-face too—he never says anything.

"What did he want from you?" I asked Poker-face. "Why didn't you tell me? Boss?"

He didn't answer, but slipped back behind me.

Looking back, I saw Jude Kao being helped out of the tent by someone. He looked around, put on his hat, and walked toward the shade of a tree.

"What are you hiding from?" I asked again. "What does it matter if he sees you? He probably already knows you're here."

Poker-face shook his head and said to me, "We can't let them get ahead. We have to beat them by timing."

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

He pointed to the pile of diving equipment. "We'll go steal the scuba gear."