My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 54

Lin Jiqiu got out of the car, and Cheng Ran followed behind. A Zuo parked the car on the side of the road opposite the building, with the engine still running, ready to leave at any time.

“Yuantong Freight’s shipping records show that Mingyuan Consulting’s goods are delivered here every Wednesday. The recipient’s signature is ‘Liu Wei’.” Cheng Ran looked at the records on the tablet. “This address doesn’t have a company name, only a room number—301.”

Lin Jiqiu looked up at the third floor of the building. The windows were closed, and the curtains were drawn tightly, so she couldn’t see what was happening inside. The door downstairs was glass and closed; a card was required to enter. She went around to the side of the building and found an open window. The windowsill wasn’t high off the ground, but the window was too small to squeeze through.

“Bluebird,” she commanded in her mind.

A bluebird flew out of the backpack, its gray feathers almost transparent in the overcast light. It flapped its wings and silently flew towards the window, squeezing through the gap between the frame and the glass.

Lin Jiqiu closed his eyes.

The bluebird’s vision slowly unfolded in the dimly lit corridor. The corridor wasn’t long, with white walls on both sides, where fire hydrants and extinguishers hung. A gray carpet covered the floor, so quiet it should be silent underfoot. At the end of the corridor was a staircase leading upstairs. The bluebird flew along the corridor for a while and found the elevator—it was closed and required a card. It didn’t take the elevator but flew up the stairwell. Third floor. The stairwell door was closed, and the bluebird squeezed through the crack. The corridor was the same as downstairs, with rooms on both sides, all with closed doors. Room 301 was in the middle of the corridor.

A bluebird landed on the doorknob and peeked through the crack in the door. The room wasn’t large, about thirty square meters, with a few desks and chairs. File boxes and cardboard boxes were piled on the desks, and several metal cabinets stood against the wall. Two people were sitting at the desks, one typing on a keyboard, the other on the phone.

“…The goods have been received. The quantity matches. They will be shipped out tomorrow. Yes, one copy for each of the three locations.”

Lin Jiqiu’s fingers tightened slightly in his pocket. Three places. All matching the delivery address on the shipping record. The person on the phone was still talking, their voice low, and Qingque couldn’t hear them clearly. Lin Jiqiu focused his attention, sharpening Qingque’s hearing.

“…Echo said the shipment volume will double next week. Tell the warehouse to prepare.”

“Double? Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s an order from above. Just follow it.”

Okay. Got it.

The call ended. The person typing looked up. “Echo said the shipment volume will double next week?”

“Okay. Have the warehouse stock up on more packaging materials.”

“The warehouse is almost full. If we bring in twice as many, we won’t be able to fit them all.”

“You have to let go, whether you like it or not. Aren’t you going to listen to Echo?”

The person typing on the keyboard fell silent. He lowered his head and continued typing. The person on the phone stood up, walked to the window, and peeked out from behind a corner of the curtain. Lin Jiqiu saw his profile through Qingque’s vision—a middle-aged man with short hair, wearing frameless glasses, and a slightly downturned mouth. His gaze swept across the park outside the window, lingering for a second in the direction Lin Jiqiu had parked, before he lowered the curtain, turned, and walked back to the table.

There are cars outside. I’ve never seen them before.

“It’s probably from the industrial park.”

“There are no other companies in the park right now. That car either got lost or came looking for us.”

Lin Jiqiu’s fingers tightened slightly. Her heartbeat quickened.

The person on the phone walked to the door, opened it, and glanced into the hallway. The hallway was empty. Qingque huddled motionless in the shadow of the doorknob. The person stood there for a few seconds, then closed the door.

“Nobody’s here.”

“You’re too nervous.”

“It’s not nervousness. It’s the echo that says someone is investigating.”

The person typing paused for a moment. “Inquire about what?”

“Investigate the funding chain. We’ve already traced it back to the mailroom floor.”

“Then what should we do?”

“Operating as usual. The higher-ups will handle it.”

Lin Jiqiu took a deep breath. Above. Wenqu. Or Jumen? Perhaps both. She asked Qingque to continue observing for a while. The two people didn’t speak again, each busy with their own tasks. The person typing was filling out forms, the person on the phone was flipping through documents. The office quieted down, save for the sounds of keyboards and paper turning. There was no new information.

She let Qingque squeeze through the crack in the door and return along the same route. Once outside the building, they got back into the car.

“Room 301. Two people. They mentioned Echo, saying that Echo arranged to double the shipment volume next week. They know someone is investigating, but they don’t know it’s us.” Lin Jiqiu opened her eyes. “The person who made the call just glanced in our direction. He noticed the car.”

Cheng Ran looked at the building. “Did he see you?”

“No. He was just checking the vehicles outside.”

“So he knows someone’s here. But he might not know who it is.” Cheng Ran pulled up a map on his tablet. “There are no other companies around here, so our car is definitely conspicuous. Next time we should park further away.”

“Next time? Not going in today?”

“Don’t go in. Going in now would be like telling them who we are. Wait. Wait until they get off work, then follow them.”

Lin Jiqiu thought for a moment. “Okay.”

A-Zuo drove the car into a small alley outside the park and turned off the engine. The park gate was visible from here, but it was far enough away that it wouldn’t be easily spotted. The three of them waited in the car. Time passed slowly. Lin Jiqiu leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. The sky was still overcast, the clouds low, as if it were about to rain. She thought of the man’s profile from earlier—a middle-aged man with short hair and frameless glasses. His eyes were alert; he didn’t seem like an ordinary warehouse manager. He seemed more like a mid-level manager from some branch office.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“Tell me, do the middle managers of Beichen Court even know who they are working for?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “They might know some things, but not everything. Like Zhao Heng, he knows he’s serving Wenqu, but he doesn’t know who Wenqu is. The telescope knows it’s serving Pojun, but it doesn’t know who Pojun is. The middle-level staff only know their superiors’ code names, not their identities. They don’t even know about the existence of the Seven Stars.”

“What about Echo? Is Echo a mid-level or high-level echo?”

“Echo should be the field agent of the Giant Gate. He’s on the same level as Zhao Heng, but their responsibilities are different. Zhao Heng is in charge of coordination, while Echo is in charge of funds. They may know of each other’s existence, but they don’t know each other’s true identities.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “So they are also pawns.”

“Everyone is a pawn. Including us.”

She leaned back in her seat, her eyes closed. The rain finally started, light and fine, the sound of raindrops hitting the roof like silkworms eating mulberry leaves. Listening to the sound, her consciousness began to blur.

“They’re out.” A-Zuo’s voice pulled her back to reality.

Lin Jiqiu opened her eyes and looked towards the park gate. A dark-colored sedan drove out, not going fast, with dark tinted windows that obscured the interior. She noted down the last digits of the license plate.

“Follow them,” she said.

A-Zuo started his car and followed at a distance. The car left the industrial park, turned onto the main road, and headed towards the city center. The buildings on both sides of the road changed from low-rise factories to residential buildings, and then to shopping malls. Traffic increased, and A-Zuo followed at a moderate distance, blending into the flow of traffic so as not to be easily noticed.

The car drove for about forty minutes before turning into an old residential area. The area was small, with only a few buildings, all six-story multi-story residential buildings. There was a security guard at the entrance, but he didn’t stop the car. The car drove in.

A-Zuo parked the car outside the residential area. Lin Jiqiu and Cheng Ran got out and walked in. The residential area was quiet, with average landscaping; a few old locust trees lined both sides of the road, most of their leaves already fallen. The car was parked downstairs at Building 4. Lin Jiqiu looked up; the light on the fourth floor was on.

“401,” Cheng Ran lowered his voice, “Can you find out who the homeowner is?”

“Yes.” Lin Jiqiu took out his phone and sent a message to A Zuo.

After a few minutes, A-Zuo replied. “The landlord’s name is ‘Liu Wei.’ He’s the person who signed for the shipment on the shipping record.”

“Liu Wei. A fake name?”

“Possibly. There are no bank statements or transaction records. Like the ‘Chen Li’ we found before, he’s just a figure on paper.”

Lin Jiqiu looked out the fourth-floor window. The curtains were drawn, but light was still filtering through. That person, whether his name was Liu Wei or something else, was inside.

“Cheng Ran, do you think he is an echo?”

“No. Echo doesn’t pick up goods from the mailroom, nor does it pack them in the warehouse. Echo is in a management position. This person should be in an execution position, reporting to Echo.”

“Then what’s above him is an echo?”

“Maybe. There might be another layer in between.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “We’re getting closer and closer to the echo.”

“Um.”

She turned and walked towards the entrance of the residential area. Cheng Ran followed behind. After getting into the car, A Zuo started the engine.

“Go back?” A-Zuo asked.

“go back.”

The car drove out of the residential compound, heading towards the firm. Lin Jiqiu leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. The streetlights receded one by one, their orange glow casting streaks of light across the car window. She closed her eyes, her mind replaying the events of the day—room 301, the person making the phone call, the fleeting glance he gave as the curtains were pulled back slightly. She knew what he was wary of. He was wary of her. Even though he didn’t know who she was.

Back at the office, it was already dark. Ayou was waiting at the door, holding an umbrella, but the rain had stopped. He watched the car pull up and came to greet him. “Boss, why are you so late today?”

“I’m with someone.” Lin Jiqiu got out of the car, changed his shoes, and walked into the office.

Ah You followed behind. “Did you catch up?”

“We’ve caught up with him. We know where he lives.”

Ayou didn’t ask any more questions and turned to go to the kitchen to get the dishes. Azuo went to park the car, and Chengran followed Lin Jiqiu in. Ayou brought the dishes to the table: stir-fried seasonal vegetables, braised fish, and a bowl of winter melon soup. Lin Jiqiu sat down and picked up her chopsticks.

“Chengran, check Liu Wei’s background tomorrow. Even though it’s a fake identity, there will always be clues. Paying property fees and utility bills will leave traces.”

“We’re already investigating.” Cheng Ran looked at the tablet. “The property management fee is paid in cash. The water and electricity bills are automatically deducted, and the account used for the deductions is a shell company. We can’t find the individual responsible.”

“Then investigate his neighbors. See who he usually contacts.”

“It will take time.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded and picked up a piece of fish. The fish was very fresh; Ayou’s cooking skills were getting better and better. “Ayou, the fish is delicious today.”

Ah You’s eyes lit up. “If the boss likes it, that’s good.”

After dinner, Lin Jiqiu went upstairs. She lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. That person from today—Liu Wei—had said on the phone, “Echo said next week’s shipments will double.” Double. This meant that Beichen Zhiting’s business was expanding, not shrinking. A portion of the outer network had been broken, but they were quickly replacing it with a new one.

She turned over and pulled the photograph from under her pillow. Her father’s face. If he were still alive, what would he do? Perhaps, like her, he would continue the investigation. Perhaps not; he had already done so. He had reached the end, and at the end was a star. Po Jun.

She put the photo back and closed her eyes. The ball on her wrist vibrated slightly. She ignored it, and her consciousness slowly sank away.