Pan Yicheng had always been good at bluffing. His words were filled with a protective tone of “they’re just kids,” refusing to admit that Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing were officially on the payroll (which, to be fair, they weren’t). He even tried to use a one-time whistleblower reward to completely sever ties between the two parties!
If they were on-staff personnel, they wouldn’t have been eligible for the whistleblower reward—it would’ve just been part of their job responsibilities. But since Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing did receive the reward, it officially confirmed that they were not employed as formal staff.
Pan Yicheng said, “You all don’t really understand our department. These two students haven’t even graduated from college. Look at how extravagantly they spend—how could they be anything but enthusiastic citizens? It’s clearly not in line with protocol…”
“Many countries’ intelligence agencies have dual identities—on the surface, they’re wealthy elites, but secretly, they carry out missions.”
“That’s because their national conditions are different. Our country doesn’t do that kind of thing!”
Pan Yicheng, speaking with solemn conviction, insisted that in a socialist country, public officials wouldn’t be driving sports cars, sailing yachts, or flying private jets. They’re completely different from foreign intelligence agencies.
Lin and the others now truly saw through Chu Qianli’s cunning. Back when she asked Monderson to transfer a billion U.S. dollars using an offshore account, she knew China had no jurisdiction to trace the flow of funds in foreign accounts and therefore couldn’t interfere—so justice would never be served.
Chu Qianli countered by reporting a spy, then distanced herself from the Chinese authorities—this was what you’d call getting money from both sides and making sure no one had the power to control her.
What? Why did Monderson transfer funds to her?
Well, if you’re so eager to wire money, go ahead. How could we, the officials, possibly understand how you foreigners think?
This is just a cross-border transfer between you and an ordinary citizen. We’ll take care of domestic matters—can’t just meddle in foreign affairs irresponsibly!
Pan Yicheng’s words were full of moral righteousness, cleanly and firmly cutting off further questioning.
Lin’s face alternated between pale and livid. The situation had played out exactly as Q had anticipated. Now was no longer the time to argue about right or wrong. The room quickly fell into an awkward and tense deadlock.
Outside the briefing hall, Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing weren’t allowed to sit in on the meeting, yet oddly enough, they received a notification of the incoming payment. A staff member came over to ask them which account the whistleblower reward should be deposited into.
Chu Qianli grinned, “Professor Pan really knows how to write reports. The meeting isn’t even over, and they’re already sending the money.”
After confirming the account with the national security officer, she patiently hinted, “Students, thank you for your support in our work. With that, this case is now officially closed. As for some of the strange rumors…”
Chu Qianli replied sweetly, “I understand, I understand. We’re just regular patriotic youths!”
Tan Muxing murmured, “…We really don’t have any ties to the national security bureau.”
The officer nodded in satisfaction, looking at them with an expression that said “promising youth,” then added, “Professor Pan asked you both to wait a moment—he’d like to have a word with you.”
Chu Qianli joked, “We just scammed—uh, I mean, just finished writing the report, and now we’re meeting again?”
“That’s alright. Professor Pan isn’t actually from our department. He’s also a university professor.”
So, there was no issue with Chu Qianli and the others meeting Pan Yicheng. University-bound students having a chat with a future professor wasn’t against any laws.
Even if they later joined the “Infant Stone” project, it could still be spun as the state team recruiting new members. After all, they weren’t official personnel when they reported the spy.
Inside the meeting room, Chu Qianli, Tan Muxing, and Mei Rujing all received the notice and quietly waited for Pan Yicheng to finish his report.
Mei Rujing remarked, “We went through such a big loop—whether or not we’re officially employed, they’ve already figured out where we stand.”
“This whole loop is just to ensure proper procedures. No matter what you do, you can’t mess up the order,” Chu Qianli said, happily holding her phone as she looked at the account balance. “All that time we endured—totally worth it.”
No matter how much Chu Qianli wanted to snatch the key directly, she could never break the law or be the one to defy the rules. But if someone else broke the law first, then she couldn’t be blamed for taking advantage of the loophole.
Tan Muxing thought back to the food and lodging in the villa area, the unearned billion dollars, and the whistleblower reward. It all felt a little too far off from the hardship he imagined when he’d heard the phrase “endure in silence.”
A short while later, Pan Yicheng finally wrapped up the official briefing. Having learned of the full progress of the Infant Stone project, he rushed over to meet the others in the conference room.
Since Chu Qianli and the others had a good relationship with Mei Rujing, the authorities wanted Pan Yicheng to speak with them personally and discuss the issue of the Sanqing Bell.
Everyone assumed they only had the peachwood sword and the Sanqing Bell, but Pan Yicheng knew that Chu Qianli also had the key!
Pan Yicheng had once been close friends with Chu Yilie. The two of them had traveled across the southern and northern mountains in search of other artifacts. In the end, they found nothing and went their separate ways—only to now uncover the truth.
“I really didn’t expect these old relics to be keys. Your grandfather and I studied them for so long, puzzled as to why we couldn’t pinpoint where his master had ventured. Who would’ve thought the location was overseas!” Pan Yicheng sighed deeply. “Back then, we said it wasn’t the right time, and now I see that we were right.”
Back in Chu Yilie’s era, going abroad was simply too far-fetched—especially to a remote place like Country H. Just like many things in life, knowing something isn’t the same as having the means to act. You have to wait for the right time.
“They want me to try and persuade the person who holds the Sanqing Bell.” Pan Yicheng looked at Mei Rujing kindly. “But I also know that you all have the key. I understand you’ve made your own decisions all along, and the final choice rests with you.”
Chu Qianli immediately replied, “Then of course we’ll side with the organization…”
Pan Yicheng solemnly shook his head. “No, actually, I’m not here to ask your opinion this time. I want to hear the thoughts of the other two.”
Chu Qianli froze. Her expression stiffened slightly, then she looked down and said, “Ah… right.”
Mei Rujing was puzzled. “What do you mean? I thought they needed the key from us?”
“Yes, we definitely need the key,” Pan Yicheng said seriously, “but we also need people who can use the key. I have no doubt about your sincerity, but handing over the key and going to Country H are two different things. Based on the current situation, negotiations will likely lead to a joint exploration. But you must understand, once you’re abroad, a lot of things become unpredictable—especially since you’ll be on foreign soil.”
“You’re free to hand over the key without joining the mission to Country H. We’ll provide compensation and rewards accordingly. Of course, we do value your abilities, but everyone makes different choices. This isn’t something you’re obligated to do, and we won’t use moral pressure.”
The three of them could very well hand over the key and walk away with a fortune. As long as they stayed in China, the Monderson Group wouldn’t be able to touch them.
But if they went to Country H, the situation would become murky. Country H didn’t ban guns—and that was dangerous.
Mei Rujing glanced at Chu Qianli, confused. “But why say you need to ask our opinions…”
Did that mean Chu Qianli’s opinion wasn’t needed?
Pan Yicheng remained silent. He knew Chu Qianli’s fate—he understood she had no choice but to go.
Tan Muxing began, “I’m with—”
Pan Yicheng gently cut in, “Muxing, this is exactly why I wanted to say this. I know the three of you have built strong bonds, but life isn’t about having someone accompany you all the way to the end. Even your friends, family, or partner may not be able to walk the entire road with you.”
“I had many friends in my youth, and we shared a lot of joyful moments,” Pan Yicheng’s face softened with nostalgia as he continued quietly, “But there comes a point in life when you have to say goodbye. It’s not because we’ve forgotten the past—it’s because we have to keep moving forward.”
“Don’t place your will upon someone else—it would be too heavy a burden for that person. Last time you were injured in the Gobi, perhaps you felt it was nothing, but others might have felt terrible—maybe your family, or maybe that person.”
Tan Muxing froze, suddenly understanding why Professor Pan said that. He lowered his eyes and asked softly, “You’re afraid I haven’t thought it through?”
Professor Pan smiled kindly. “After all, this isn’t a small matter. You should discuss it with your families—you can’t just agree on a sudden impulse. Why don’t we take a short break? You can give me your answer a little later.”
“I’ll say what I always say: don’t consider it from the national interest level—that’s our responsibility. You are free to make your own choices, and that’s precisely what we’ve worked so hard for.” Pan Yicheng said, “The people are not subjects of the state. The state is the creation of the people.”
Pan Yicheng left first, giving the three of them space in the conference room.
Mei Rujing stood up and said, “I’ve worked hard to earn money just so I can do what I want. Plus, I’m the only one in my family still studying the Plum Blossom Divination Method. Emotionally and logically, I should go. I’ll probably follow them there.”
“But I’ve been in society for quite a few years. You two are still young. Think carefully—he’s not wrong.” Seeing the tension between the two, she also walked out of the room, leaving them the space.
The door closed softly, leaving only Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing.
They both knew that Pan Yicheng’s words were meant for one of them.
The air was still for several seconds.
Chu Qianli was the first to break the silence. With a smile, she suggested, “Xingxing has helped me so many times already. From now on, I should work hard on my own. Plus, school starts right after summer break. It’s not good to fall behind in the first semester. How about I go with Professor Pan and the others, and once I’ve resolved this, I’ll head back to school and meet you there?”
Tan Muxing was quiet for a few seconds, then asked in a soft voice, “…Is that really what you want to say?”
Facing his calm tone, Chu Qianli couldn’t keep her smile. The curve of her lips slowly faded, replaced by a trace of helplessness. “Professor Pan was right. Xingxing, you really don’t have to go. This was never something you had to do. Your family will worry about you, and I can’t bear to see what happened in the Gobi happen again…”
“I might’ve said a lot of bold things before, about astrology or fortune-telling, but the truth is, even I can’t foresee everything.”
Chu Qianli’s voice grew soft. “I don’t know what will happen in H Country, but I do know that your future is smooth and bright. That’s the one thing I’ve seen the clearest.”
To this day, she couldn’t divine her own future. But she knew the journey to H Country would be full of hardship.
“So don’t go. Let’s end it here.”
Tan Muxing’s eyelashes trembled slightly. He said calmly, “You’re afraid I’ll get hurt again?”
Chu Qianli nodded. She perked up and tried to sound cheerful. “So let’s just meet up at school. Maybe I’ll wrap things up quickly on my end. Besides, you’ve never been that into mysticism. You’ll just find the ruins boring!”
Tan Muxing replied, “Every time you lie, you either laugh it off or act all upbeat.”
Chu Qianli was taken aback.
Tan Muxing, hearing her trying to talk him into staying, swallowed his disappointment and asked quietly, “Do you think I shouldn’t go because it’s dangerous—or because you think I’d be useless there?”
He had even wondered—if he had magic too, would people stop hesitating?
If he could divine fate, or was like Xu Zaiyuan, perhaps this conversation wouldn’t even be necessary.
“Of course it’s because I’m afraid you’ll get hurt!” Chu Qianli rushed to explain. She paused for a few seconds, then lowered her eyes. “Even if you don’t end up hurt, asking you to take risks when I know the danger ahead—that’s too selfish. I shouldn’t do that.”
Tan Muxing took a deep breath and asked, “What if we don’t talk about what’s right or wrong?”
Chu Qianli looked at him, confused.
“You say it’s selfish to ask me to take risks—but what if I said, you could be selfish for once? What would you think then?”
He raised his eyes. “I just want to know—have you ever wanted something selfishly when it comes to me?”
I am just a novice translator and Chinese is not my native language. I try my best to translate the chapters as accurate as possible.
If there are any mistakes then kindly comment and remind me. Your support means a lot.
