Chapter Ninety-Seven: The King of Hell Is Easy to Meet, but the Little Ghosts Are Hard to Handle

“The Way that can be spoken is not the eternal Way. The name that can be named is not the eternal name,” the weathered old man said, his voice unexpectedly deep.

It was the same as always, like the fortune-tellers of the past had spoken before. But what was he to do? Do nothing all day, stay in one place, and wait it out in the hope of safety? Yet where did this calamity come from? If he could not evade it, then only one road lay ahead.

At that thought, Mo Shaoxing shivered involuntarily. A chill of sweat broke over him. As soon as he fully woke, the old man’s figure was already gone. He searched everywhere in disbelief. How could a person vanish without a trace in such a short time?

* * * * *

At the airport, the crowd surged like a restless tide. Shen Yanlie, in large dark sunglasses, had pulled Mai Xijun from the car and kept dragging her all the way to the terminal.

“How can you do whatever comes to mind whenever you feel like it? I still have so much to do,” Mai Xijun tried to pull away.

A man is stronger than a woman by nature. When a man wants something done, even if a woman tries to stop him, she may not succeed. Escape is often just a word.

“I’m right here beside you. What else do you expect to do?” Shen Yanlie said with a slight curl of his lip. The icy, steel-hearted man people knew from the mall seemed to vanish in an instant.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d go with you to the ends of the earth?” he added, his tone flat. He loosened his grip on her wrist, then lifted her into his arms. His long arms encircled her waist from behind. Mai Xijun stiffened. In broad daylight, before all these eyes—

That only drew from Shen Yanlie a lazy, predatory smile. “It’s not the first time you’ve been touched, and not the first time you’ve been held.”

At that moment Mai Xijing sat there as if she had swallowed a bitter remedy, unable to utter a single extra word.

She had barely just woken up, and he had dragged her straight to the airport. She hadn’t even eaten. But Shen Yanlie did not worry over that. There is always something to eat once on a plane. Besides, in his idea of love, the preciousness is in waking and sleeping together, day after day. He had no taste for the trick of drifting apart and pretending nothing happened; that was not his way.

So he cherished every second with her. In plain, manly terms, he claimed every inch of her. Such good time as this—how could he squander it? What nonsense.

* * * * *

By the time Mo Shaoxing arrived at Mai Xijun’s residence, he was much later than he had expected. He knocked on her door. No answer came.

A heavy, unguarded sorrow rushed over him. For an instant his heart felt hollow, as if something had been torn out of him. The lingering dread stayed on, bold and merciless, as if it had a life of its own and was tormenting his helpless hands.

He hurriedly rushed down the stairs. At this point he was nearly at a loss, restless like a frightened child, scanning every corner. But he no longer knew any third way to reach her.

Her apartment. Her phone. Both unreachable.

“Young man, who are you looking for?” the woman from the corner shop at the entrance asked, watching him approach. She looked as if she were thinking over something—or waiting for something. Her brow was tight with concern.

“We haven’t had a new face around here for ages, but recently every time someone appears, there are always a few at once. And all of them are handsome in an unbearable way.”

“Ah, ma’am… I’m a friend of Mai Xijun, who stays here. I have urgent business with her. Do you know where she went?”

Mo Shaoxing spoke politely, smiling.

At the sound of him calling her “aunt,” the shopkeeper smiled broadly and came out from the back room. “Oh my, since Little Mai moved in here, this building has truly become a place of brightness and fortune.” With a half-raised hand, she pretended to hide a smile, then gave Mo Shaoxing another good look.

“Never mind,” he said quietly, trying to appear steady, blinking once and then opening his eyes slowly, forcing down the unease stirring inside him. Beneath his striking looks there was an air of uncommon composure.

This was no idle comment from her. Even if handsome Xue Lizan was one exception, Shen Yanlie had been dropping by frequently in recent days. Yuwen Si and Shen Qian had also come, and an elegant woman as well.

It made no sense. They all appeared in a sudden rush yesterday, and today Mo Shaoxing was back here again. Who was Mai Xijun, truly? She had ties—unclear, tangled—to all these rich young men in fine cars, each worth more than he could imagine. How had he never noticed this side of her before?

“It’s not really anything,” the shopkeeper said. “That man looked like one of Little Mai’s new boyfriends. They left together this morning. The car looked like… maybe... a Ferrari. No, no—wait...”
Her brows knotted, then she corrected herself again. She tilted her head and thought it through, but the car was not a Volkswagen. In the sudden rush, she could not remember the model at all.

“White Porsche Cayenne,” Mo Shaoxing finished for her.

The shopkeeper froze, astonished, then broke into a radiant smile as if an answer had finally come. “Yes, yes—exactly, a white Porsche Cayenne.”

“Still… how did you know?” she asked sharply, suspicion flashing in her eyes. “That kind of devilish face—what bad man are you? How could you know so clearly what car Mai’s boyfriend drives?”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Mo Shaoxing said politely, bowing his head in thanks. He turned, but she grabbed his arm instantly.

“What is this, auntie? A moment ago you called me ‘sister’ and now you’re so harsh?”

“Young man, what do you mean by that?” she hissed, lowering her voice. Though widowed for years, she was still one to smile at a handsome stranger; a few extra glances and a few extra words were no crime in her eyes.

But this man, so proper and proper-seeming, shifted so fast? “Sister” while using her, and then “auntie” when he leaves.

“Besides,” she went on, “Little Mai has lived here for a while. She is not someone you can just give away lightly. If this man is a villain, and if Mai gets hurt, I would be a sinner forever.”

“I...” Mo Shaoxing stammered, bewildered. He truly did not at once grasp what exactly she meant.

“So what does ‘nothing of that sort’ mean?” she snapped.

“It’s not—ma’am…” His tongue tied itself. At last he understood the issue and corrected himself. “Not auntie... I mean, Sister—no, I’m at fault for confusing you. But I truly have urgent business and must go now. Another day, when I have time, I will thank you properly, and also apologize.”

Every word from Mo Shaoxing sounded sincere. He had to get to the airport quickly. As he had feared, Shen Yanlie had taken her away to somewhere he did not even know.

He knew well that when Shen Yanlie wanted to do anything, he had no strength to oppose him. But that did not mean he had no way to hold on to his little darling. He had to believe, always, that she would be strongest: unyielding, faithful in her convictions, never one to hand over her soul or her beliefs lightly.

And it was by that belief that he dared to stand against Shen Yanlie at all. Otherwise he had no ground to quarrel with him.

Mo Shaoxing lifted his arm to pull it free from the old woman’s tight hold. The moment he freed himself from one bind, she, quicker than lightning, caught his arm again.

“No. Young man, you’ve asked me so much already. What are you to Little Mai? What is your intention in finding her?” She put on a stern expression like a magistrate in an old court, interrogating a culprit.

She had counted the time in her head. Mai had left in a hurry, saying she was going abroad for a few days. She had only just gone. If this man hurried, perhaps he could still intercept her. The shopkeeper did not want to be the one who caused regret for life by a single misstep. No excuse would do.

Mo Shaoxing felt his head ring. He went blank, even dazed. “The hell is easy to meet, but a little imp is hard to deal with,” he muttered, the saying proving true all at once.

“No, ma’am. I’m a childhood friend of Little Mai. We’ve only recently met again. And the man in the white Cayenne is also a friend of ours. I am not a bad man. So please, let me thank you properly another time. I must leave first, all right?”

Though he asked for the reverse of an earlier favor, he spoke in a way that could not be refused. The aunt hesitated twice, then softened a little.

“Fine then. If you do anything bad to Little Mai, I truly will not let you go.”

Even if she did not know whether she would ever see this handsome man again, she could not let her authority be lost.

Mo Shaoxing nodded gravely. Only then did the shopkeeper slowly release her grip on his arm.