Chapter Nineteen: University Town

The young monk led Yang Jiekai through the back door of the Sutra Depository into a small, secluded courtyard. He opened a nondescript little door within the courtyard and politely said, “This way, please.”

Jiekai looked at the door, now ajar; its paint was peeling, and a musty odor wafted out, as if it hadn’t been opened in a long time.

Sensing Jiekai’s thoughts, the young monk explained apologetically, “Please don’t mind, sir. Most visitors here select a few Buddhist scriptures; very few are interested in ancient texts. So, over time, the old books were moved here, and after all this time, some have grown a bit moldy.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Jiekai waved his hand dismissively and stepped inside.

The room was quite small, perhaps only a dozen square meters. The only lighting was a round ceiling lamp casting a dim yellow glow. It was clear that this place saw little foot traffic and had escaped the attention of the temple’s caretakers.

But Jiekai paid no heed to that. Once inside, he hurried to browse the long, dusty bookshelves. The shelves were lined with ancient tomes, and in one corner lay a few bamboo scrolls—artifacts in their own right.

After a while, Jiekai’s gaze landed on the spine of a particularly thick book. Brush-written characters, though faded, could still be made out: “Records of Ancient Anomalies.”

Jiekai cautiously pulled the volume out, dusted off the cover, and opened the yellowed pages. The paper was so old it felt as soft as cloth.

“This book dates back to the late Qing dynasty,” the young monk explained earnestly. “It contains accounts of strange and curious happenings from ancient times, though most are unfounded tales. The author is untraceable, and the contents are much like today’s tabloids—full of unverifiable oddities, just from a different era.”

Jiekai chuckled. “I’m surprised you know about tabloids, living in a temple all this time.”

The young monk scratched his head sheepishly and replied, “Sometimes, when my master is away, I sneak a look at things from the outside world, just to learn a bit about it.”

Jiekai flipped through the “Records of Ancient Anomalies,” and suddenly, his eyes fixed on a particular page. There, on the yellowed paper, was the heading: “On Zombies, from the Records of Ancient Anomalies.”

Zombies? The word instantly caught Jiekai’s attention!

He took a deep breath, composed himself, closed the book, and, feigning indifference, waved it in his hand. “This is interesting stuff. How much for the book?”

At these words, the young monk immediately transformed into a street vendor, pulling a pocket calculator from his robe. With a few swift taps, he declared solemnly, “This is a rare and extraordinary work from the late Qing dynasty—a priceless treasure, the temple’s very own heirloom. Really, it’s not for sale. But today, seeing our fated connection, I’ll make an exception and sell it to you.”

Jiekai nearly laughed out loud at the monk’s straight-faced performance. The temple’s treasure? Left here to gather dust and mold? If this monk went into business, he’d be a natural.

“Just tell me the price,” Jiekai said, struggling to contain his amusement.

The young monk maintained his earnest demeanor. “As I said, this book is priceless. It can’t be valued in money—”

“Oh, then I won’t buy it.” Jiekai made as if to return the book. He saw right through the monk’s act; all this talk was just to make him pay more.

“Wait, wait!” the monk exclaimed, worried his deal was about to slip through his fingers. “Let me finish! Didn’t I just say, since we’re so fated, I’ll sell you this unparalleled ancient book at a bargain price—just a token for incense, 9,999!”

“Any discounts?” Jiekai asked, pretending to hand the book back.

The monk waved his hands quickly. “Fine, fine. Since we’re so destined to meet, I’ll give you a 20% discount!”

Jiekai shook his head and held up one finger.

“Ten percent?” The monk was startled, then protested, “Sir, you’re trying to take advantage of me. This is the most extraordinary book of the late Qing dynasty, with immense archaeological and market value. In a few years, it might be priceless!”

Suppressing a laugh, Jiekai set the book aside and walked off without a word.

“Hey, don’t go! Ten percent it is. For the sake of our extraordinary fate, I’ll give you a clearance sale price!” the young monk called after him.

Without turning back, Jiekai raised a finger and said coolly, “Forget it, I meant one percent.”

“One percent!” The monk’s eyes widened. Was this really how people bargained these days?

Seeing Jiekai’s departing figure, the young monk gritted his teeth, snatched up the book, and chased after him. “Sir, wait! For the sake of our truly, truly extraordinary fate, I’ll give you a super, unbeatable, tear-inducing, loss-making final sale price—one percent it is. Ninety-nine, the book is yours!”

By the time the sun was setting, Han Ning, Mrs. Wang, and the others had finally finished their devout worship of every Buddha in the temple and stepped out. Jiekai had been napping in the parking lot by the entrance for ages.

“Sleeping at the temple gate—careful the Buddha won’t bless you!” Han Wei teased, dissatisfied, when she saw Jiekai dozing in the driver’s seat.

“I think it makes more sense to fill our stomachs first. You’ve spent all day praying, but the Buddha didn’t make sure you ate, did he?” Jiekai replied with a shrug, unfazed by Han Wei’s glare and Han Ning’s icy expression. Once everyone was in the car, he started the engine with a roar and sped off.

Most visitors merely burn incense for a few major Buddhas before leaving. Few, like Han Ning and the others, devote themselves to worshipping every single statue. The road down the mountain was thus unusually clear. Jiekai took the opportunity to unleash the full power of the Bentley, making Han Ning and Mrs. Wang’s hearts pound wildly again, while Han Wei, ever the wild child, snored in delight all the way home.

By the time they returned to Zhuzhu Villa, darkness had completely fallen.

“You go ahead; I have something to take care of. Don’t wait for me for dinner,” Jiekai said after parking the car.

“Tch, who cares where you go? Do whatever you like!” Han Wei didn’t bother to urge him to eat at home and disappeared into the parking garage elevator without looking back. Han Ning acted as if she hadn’t heard him at all, still treating him like air. At least Mrs. Wang offered a token parting word, telling him to come home early, which comforted him a little.

Jiekai shrugged helplessly. He was used to this attitude by now—if his ice-cold wife ever acted warm toward him, that would be the real surprise.

Though he had a thick skin, he wasn’t shameless enough to take the car out without Han Ning’s permission. After locking the car, he stretched his arms and strolled out at a leisurely pace.

It wasn’t that Jiekai was looking for trouble; it was just that, as he drove into the complex earlier, his keen senses had noticed several seemingly ordinary figures lingering near the entrance—something was off. After a little thought, he’d guessed the truth.

He’d given He Yuan a hard time last night, and that guy certainly wouldn’t let it go easily. But since the contract was signed, there was nothing they could do to Han Ning openly. The deal, though unfair, just meant less profit, and Han Ning’s powerful family made them cautious of crossing her openly.

Still, someone had to bear the brunt of their frustration. The “little driver” who’d turned the tide last night—Jiekai—was the perfect scapegoat. Since Han Ning had scored a windfall with the contract, causing some minor trouble for her driver wouldn’t have any serious consequences.

So, Jiekai decided to resolve the matter tonight. Such pests were just like buzzing flies to him—not a threat, but annoying. Best to swat them early rather than let them drone on.

As he left the complex, he acted as if he hadn’t noticed the watchers, whistling and ambling down the main road. On a summer night, a cool breeze was a welcome pleasure.

But He Yuan was excessively cautious. Though the villa was a long way from the bus stop and the area sparsely populated, the watchers made no move. They merely followed at a distance.

“With nerves like that, how do they expect to make it in this business?” Jiekai muttered as he reached the bus stop with nothing happening. Just then, a bus arrived. Without hesitation, he hopped on—no need to wait around and risk being seen by Han Ning, which might only add a brawling reputation to his name.

The bus’s final stop was University Town, surrounded by campuses of every kind. Jiekai chose to ride to the end, partly to put distance from the villa, but also because, ever since returning to China, he’d secretly yearned for the campus life led by other young people only a few years his junior.

He found a seat at an outdoor food stall near University Town, ordered some snacks and a bottle of baijiu, and sat alone, watching the stream of vibrant students as he drank. A wave of desolation washed over him.

At their age, he’d been living amid gunfire and bloodshed. Watching these bright, lively students, Jiekai felt a pang of envy, but even more, a sorrowful loneliness.

Had he not, in his heart, wished to be a regular, ordinary person? To be like these students—wandering campus, with a home, with parents, spending days talking about the trendiest clothes, the handsomest stars, the most popular guys and girls in each department.

“Sir, would you like to order some beer?”

A pleasant voice pulled Jiekai from his reverie. He looked up, and could not help but be dazzled by the sight before him.