Chapter 19: The First Call

April 30, morning.

The kidnapping had drawn serious attention from HL. By now, Li Wei's mansion was packed with members of the task force sent by the local branch, and even the equipment brought in for the investigation was military grade. Leading the task force was Ji Cheng, thirty-four, a Normal-rank ability user who held the rank of captain. He was one of the Beijing HL branch's finest officers, with an exceptional talent for criminal investigation.

Now, let's talk about two key figures in this case. First, Li Wei.

Li Wei's father was a nobleman with real power and held an important position in Tiandu. (There were also fallen nobles with nothing left but their titles. For one reason or another, a generation would come along in which no one in the family held a senior imperial post. Without political backing, their unsound business ventures collapsed. They lost their means of amassing wealth but refused to do productive work, so within a few generations they ate through their fortunes.) Li Wei, meanwhile, was one of the Dragon Commandery's most eligible wealthy bachelors. At twenty-eight, he was hailed as a brilliant young entrepreneur, with businesses in virtually every field that could turn a profit.

Food, pharmaceuticals, electronics, communications, medical equipment, transportation, even municipal construction, and on and on… He seemed able to make a business of anything, and he never failed.

Mention the name Li Wei, and people pictured a successful man who drove a luxury car, lived in a luxury villa, and wore nothing that hadn't been created by the very finest designers, right down to his underwear and socks. Even his sunglasses and fountain pens had to be custom-made to ensure they were one of a kind.

He was synonymous with intelligence and wealth, the very model of a modern Prince Charming. Countless middle-aged women had told their primary-school children something along the lines of, “He's the kind of man you should grow up to be. Don't be a good-for-nothing like your dad.”

A man like this could move stock prices with a single public remark. Let a rumor link him to some actress, and she became an instant star. It was as though even his farts smelled sweet, and were pink into the bargain. As for his shit… oh no, he didn't shit. He only farted pink.

Next, Jiang Yun. Before describing her circumstances, we first need to discuss the concept of “imperial kin.”

The biggest difference between imperial kin and nobles was that one lot were relatives and the other were outsiders. Titles and distinguished family status could both be inherited, but nobles who wanted to remain wealthy from generation to generation could never stray too far from the center of power. This was a very pragmatic world. Power and money were as inseparable as a cold and a fever. Even if your family had supplied the highest ministers for four generations, if the little bastard in the fourth generation couldn't even land a deputy bureau chief's job, congratulations. Within three generations, you were guaranteed to be as poor as the commoners. It didn't matter how much money you had. Sooner or later, it would all end up in someone else's pockets.

Still, fallen nobles had one trick left, which was to marry off their daughters. It was a poor way to restore the family fortunes, but people had been doing it since ancient times, one after another. When a nobleman's comfortable life slipped away, the terror in his heart was immense. He had seen too much of what happened to commoners. A nobleman would rather die than accept that life. And so the practice became something people despised yet apparently also found worthy of sympathy.

We've wandered off the subject. Back to imperial kin. They had none of those problems to worry about, because they were the emperor's relatives. However distant a relative might be, a relative was still a relative. If you shared so much as a drop of blood with any officially recognized princess consort, it didn't matter how many years had passed. As long as your family hadn't died out, the Empire guaranteed you food and warm clothing. You'd leave modest prosperity in the dust, sail past extravagant prosperity, and wallow in the bitter suffering of capitalism, unable to drag yourself free.

You never heard of imperial kin marrying off daughters to restore their fortunes. Noble houses rich enough to rival a nation coming forward with money to secure a match, on the other hand, were a common sight. Such marriages amounted to power wedding money. The nobles gained the status of imperial kin, and the imperial kin gained the nobles' wealth. A win for both sides.

In a sense, Jiang Yun was unfortunate. Her mother had died early, and in his youth her father had been a playboy devoted to drink and women. Drug abuse and repeated bouts of certain less-than-respectable diseases had left him with a few physical problems by the age of thirty. To make a long story short, that year, with two seven-year-old sons and a two-year-old daughter already to his name, an important organ of his stopped working.

Generally speaking, people who suffered this sort of misfortune responded in one of two extreme ways. The first was to reflect on the painful experience and channel their energies into some earthshaking enterprise. Who knew? Perhaps the martial world would gain another peerless master who fought with an embroidery needle…

But Jiang Yun's father fell into the second category. Once deprived of “women,” he could only pour his feelings into “drink.” Of course, we can't rule out the possibility that deep down he merely wanted to master some heaven-defying technique like “God of Wine.” In any event, after developing gastritis, ulcers, heart disease, and cirrhosis in succession, he died with his supreme art still unmastered.

In a sense, Jiang Yun had become the head of the family at five, though she understood nothing about it. She was not particularly close to her two older brothers, for a simple reason. They might have been older, but they were born to secondary wives. Under imperial law, the emperor, and only the emperor, could enjoy the privilege of one wife and multiple concubines. Everyone else, however closely related to the emperor, even his father's second-eldest brother, could legally have only one wife.

As the legitimate child, Jiang Yun had the legal right to inherit the entire estate. Her two illegitimate older brothers were merely two “accidents” from their father's youth. After receiving settlements sufficient to keep them fed and clothed for the rest of their lives, they had all but severed contact with the Jiang family.

Now in her early twenties, Jiang Yun could hardly remain ignorant of everything. If anyone in the world especially cherished her, it was Li Wei. They hadn't known each other long, and at this stage they were close to becoming more than friends. At this decidedly crucial moment, Gu Wen had very inconveniently grabbed a random member of the imperial kin, who happened to be Jiang Yun.

Li Wei had expected the case to cause quite a stir. Who was he, after all? The eldest young master of the Li family, a noble house at the height of its influence. The father wielded enormous power at court, the son was one of the richest men in the region, and the kidnapped woman was a young lady of the imperial kin. Mobilizing a great many people was only natural.

Yet less than five hours after watching the replay of last night's video call, Ji Cheng had suddenly contacted Li Wei again to say that the seventh prince, Krause Wittstock, would arrive in person within three days to take overall command.

What was going on? Wasn't this well beyond mobilizing people? This was practically the emperor marching off to war himself, wasn't it? Who on earth was this kidnapper? Why would a prince come in person? Could it be… this fellow called Tea Immortal was interested in Jiang Yun too? Impossible. She'd never mentioned anyone like that…

Li Wei's thoughts were a tangled mess. From the moment news of Jiang Yun's disappearance reached him, he had been frantic with worry and sunk in gloom. Yesterday's call had enraged him, but at least it had brought news of her.

The kidnapper hadn't explicitly said why he had approached Li Wei for money. He and Jiang Yun were merely friends, legally, nominally, and in fact. Nothing more. Judging by the kidnapper's words and attitude, he had absolutely no fear of HL. If Jiang Yun had no immediate relatives he could extort money from, he could simply have gone straight to the government. By ordinary reasoning, then, Jiang Yun must have given the kidnapper Li Wei's name. She was asking for help. He was the only person she could think of to turn to.

That brought Li Wei a little joy amid his distress. Once he played the hero and rescued the beauty, this woman would be his for the taking. The problem now was the kidnapper's bizarre statements and demands.

Assuming the prince wasn't coming because he and Jiang Yun were old acquaintances, he must be coming because of the kidnapper in the video. Taking that together with the man's behavior and performance, Li Wei concluded that he must be an extremely dangerous and deranged member of a resistance organization, at least a minor leader.

…

At eight in the morning, Li Wei sat on the sofa in his living room, his palms slick with cold sweat.

The phone found inside the base of the coffee machine lay on the coffee table. HL had fitted it with a listening device, and an entire surveillance team was stationed around it, ready to trace the signal the instant a call connected and locate the kidnapper.

Of everyone present, only Ji Cheng, the officer in charge, knew that the culprit in this case was classified as “danger level six.” Everyone else, including the HL staff, the combat personnel on standby, and Li Wei, had learned only the name “Tian Yi” from him. As for the man's background, to be honest, it wasn't being deliberately kept secret. Ji Cheng didn't know either.

The phone rang, and everyone present felt as though a string had pulled taut inside their head.

Li Wei watched Ji Cheng's hand signals. Once the surveillance team was ready, Ji Cheng nodded. Li Wei set the phone on the coffee table and pressed the speakerphone button. Leaning closer, he said, “This is Li Wei.”

Tian Yi's voice reached everyone in the room. His opening words were, “Listen carefully to your first proposition. Your life is worth only one can of food.”

Li Wei was silent for several seconds, partly thinking over Tian Yi's words, partly buying time for the people tracing the call. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what it says,” Tian Yi replied. “Now… I'll leave you to prove whether that proposition is true or false.” He raised his voice slightly. “Captain Ji, please have a helicopter ready for Young Master Li within twenty minutes. Reach the location indicated in the text message and land within one hour.”

Tian Yi sounded as though he was about to hang up. While everyone else was still stunned that he even knew the surname of the officer in charge, Ji Cheng was the first to react. He cut in. “Mr. Tian, we need to confirm that the hostage is still alive and safe.” Partly, he wanted to confront the man directly and exert a little pressure. He also wanted to stall for as much time as possible.

Instead, the very next second, a smack came from the other end of the line, followed by a woman's brief cry.

Anyone could tell that the hostage had been slapped.

Li Wei's rage meter instantly maxed out. Snatching up the phone, he roared, “You son of a bitch! I'll…”

Tian Yi interrupted him. “Remember, you have no right to question me. When I say the hostage is alive, she's alive. Keep bothering me with trivialities and you'll only make things unpleasant for yourselves. Follow the rules of the game and my instructions, and you will eventually get a satisfactory result. But if you insist on asking for confirmation that the hostage is safe every time we speak, or try to bargain with me and waste my time with that hostage-negotiator routine, even I don't know what I might do next.” With that, he hung up.

Li Wei wanted to smash the phone to pieces, but he couldn't. He could only vent his anger by viciously kicking the sofa a few times.

One member of the surveillance team spoke up. “Sir, we can't trace the signal. He must have used some special technology to block us.”

Li Wei turned and glared at them. “What did you say? What the hell do you people get paid for?!”

“Please calm down, Young Master Li.” Ji Cheng stepped in front of him, stopping him before he could say anything nastier.

Ji Cheng always gave an impression of composure. He was a dependable man who could bring a room under control as soon as he spoke. “This is quite normal. Since he explicitly told us he wasn't afraid of being traced, he clearly came prepared.”

Li Wei was, after all, a man of standing. Anyone who cared at all about saving face had to at least pretend to have some manners, even if he had none. Since Captain Ji had spoken, and what he said was reasonable enough, Li Wei took the offered way out. He straightened his clothes and told the surveillance staff, “I'm sorry. I lost my temper.”

An old hand at handling people, Ji Cheng added, “A natural reaction. Quite understandable.” He smoothly changed the subject, telling his subordinates, “Arrange the helicopter. Check the number that sent the text. Send a nearby team to scout the location in the message immediately. Make sure you don't alert him.”

He turned back to Li Wei. “Young Master Li, take a short rest. We'll leave when the helicopter arrives. This kidnapper is unpredictable, but judging by the counter-surveillance methods often used in cases like this, he may well ask you to proceed alone later. We can't say whether you'll be in danger. I'll have my men prepare a bulletproof vest fitted with a tracker and listening equipment. You'd best put it on under your clothes before we leave.”

The sound of that slap was still echoing in Li Wei's head. Distracted and uneasy, he merely nodded without speaking.