1754 Chapter 23 – The Heavenly Net of Tibet

The first thing I did was isolate myself because I recalled all the events leading to my trip to Motuo and realized that a few people around me played a significant role in this matter. I am someone who lacks strong opinions and ideas; during my time running a small shop, I never thought to take the initiative when business was slow. On one hand, this might be because I didn’t really enjoy this line of work, and on the other hand, it has a lot to do with my personality. So when those few kids suggested they wanted to go to Motuo for a walk, I casually agreed without thinking much about it, as I was indeed quite tired and not particularly eager to return to the coastal areas. The scenery here is still quite captivating.

I can’t remember which kid brought it up first. I decided to keep my distance from them. Although these people were good leverage for me here, if they had already been compromised, having them close would be like having a ticking time bomb. That night, I didn’t return to the temple but wandered around Motuo, not noticing anyone following me.

However, Motuo is a place that is very difficult to enter or exit, so that doesn’t mean much. If they wanted to control me, they just needed to place people at a few intersections. Someone like me stands out quite a bit here. It wasn’t until dark that I checked into a guesthouse, found a room, and then called the waiter to help me buy some things.

The items included rubber gloves, some clothes hangers, a lot of rubber bands, four lighters, two of the best cigarettes available in Motuo, tape, chewing gum, instant noodles, and long iron nails. That night, I tied all the rubber bands together in bed, hid them on my belt, and placed a half-used pack of cigarettes under the mattress of the guesthouse.

The next morning, I returned to the lama temple with the items, pretending that nothing had happened, and went back to my room. As soon as I entered, I closed all the doors and windows, then pulled out some of my hair and rubbed it on the tape to make it sticky, placing a piece on each window seam. I then fashioned a slingshot using the clothes hangers and rubber bands.

From what I could see at the post office, those who were plotting against me were certainly very skilled, not just a bunch of amateurs, so they must be using high-tech equipment to monitor me. Perhaps there are hidden cameras in this lama’s room, and they would see all my actions. I first needed to test how closely I was being monitored and controlled.

I stepped out of the room; they couldn’t possibly monitor the entire lama temple. I started wandering around, and when I confirmed there was no one nearby, I began to observe the terrain, hiding all my belongings, including the slingshot, in many corners of the lama temple. Then I returned to my room and checked the hair on the window seams; I found all the hair was still there. No one had entered through the window, but that still didn’t prove anything for now.

I started to continue reading the notes written by the “Mysterious Oil Bottle” until evening, when I finally went out to greet some people and have dinner. At that moment, I noticed a few porters hired by the group of Hong Kongers smoking at the entrance. They were smoking the best cigarettes from Motuo, the same kind I had bought yesterday. I glanced at the Hong Kongers and then at the porters, realizing that my first trap had worked.

Following them on the streets of Motuo was not easy, as non-locals stood out significantly. The porters here loved to smoke, so I pretended to have lost half a pack of cigarettes in the guesthouse. If they weren’t a very professional team, they would definitely pick them up and smoke them. I quietly sat down next to the Hong Kongers. They didn’t show any unusual behavior and continued to chat naturally. Here, people’s demeanor was quite relaxed, so I casually took some of their food to eat and listened to what they were talking about.

It was hard to understand Cantonese when the conversation picked up speed, and I soon gave up. However, during that time, I counted their heads and observed each person for the first time. I quickly felt embarrassed about my earlier carelessness. I noticed that at least three of them seemed to be quite capable and showed signs of professional training, while all the others looked very strong and healthy. In a typical tourist group, there are usually people with excellent physical fitness as well as some who are absurdly inexperienced, but the physical quality of these Hong Kongers appeared too good and too uniform.

When I looked at the group again, I found that one of the three capable individuals I had identified was a woman. I only noticed her feminine curves when she moved, but her face was always obscured by her clothing, making it hard to see. I lit a cigarette and walked over to her. In a team, the most capable person usually doesn’t hold a high status, and I thought that flirting with a girl wouldn’t raise too many suspicions. “Hey, beautiful,” I said with a smile as I approached her, “I have instant noodles here. Since you’ve eaten their food, would you like a bowl?” The girl looked up at me, glanced at the noodles in my hand, then at my face, and suddenly snatched the cigarette from my mouth, putting it in her own. She said, “You can keep your noodles; I’ll gladly take this cigarette.”

I was taken aback for a moment, and the man next to her burst out laughing. I composed myself, thinking I couldn’t be intimidated by this initial blow, and said, “I’m Wu Xie. What’s your name, beautiful?” The girl looked at me and spat the smoke out onto the ground, saying, “I regret it; I shouldn’t have taken the cigarette. Give it back to you. Now get lost.” I had never felt so embarrassed in my life, but I wasn’t the naive young man I used to be who would feel ashamed and want to hide in a hole when faced with such situations—at that moment, I just found it amusing.

After she spat out the smoke, she brushed past me. I looked around at the onlookers and shrugged my shoulders, which made them laugh even harder. I asked one of them, “What’s her name?” “I wouldn’t dare tell you,” he replied, and everyone burst into laughter again. I laughed along, thinking that if you really were plotting against me, you wouldn’t be laughing for long. I picked up the cigarette from the ground, took a puff, and walked away from the group.

The purpose of my previous actions is quite simple. It’s a method I’ve discovered through my years of business experience, and perhaps only someone like me is suited for this approach, as I have enough energy to pay attention to so many details. In the past, my uncle used a centralized system to manage the entire chain with his authority and rules, but I definitely don’t fit that route, as I find it difficult to endure in particularly intense conditions and can’t stand too much cruelty and harshness.

I prefer everyone to be well, to earn the money they deserve, and to live harmoniously. That’s why my subordinates call me “Wu Xiao Fo Ye” (Little Buddha Wu). This nickname comes from my catchphrase at the time: “Amitabha, put down the butcher’s knife and earn money to become a Buddha.” It has nothing to do with Zhang Da Fo Ye (Master Zhang), but I find it quite ominous. However, just because I don’t like conflict doesn’t mean I’m not good at it. I have my own methods; for instance, I always negotiate with a dozen clients at once, coordinating the movement of numerous goods. While I’m still negotiating here, sales are already happening over there.

Therefore, others cannot compete with me at all, because for them, the amount of details and information is overwhelming, and they have no idea what I’m doing. Even if they manage to snatch one deal from me, they will definitely miss out on others. But all the orders and details I’m discussing are as clear to me as a web I’ve woven myself.

If you want your opponent to reveal any flaws, the best way is to unleash countless tactics at once. Suppose I believe someone has set a trap for me and lured me to this lama temple; that person must have a significant purpose and will inevitably monitor me. Some of my suspicious actions would certainly pique their interest, such as spending a night alone in a guesthouse after descending the mountain, or sticking hair in all the window cracks of my room, hiding things in various places within the lama temple, suddenly making a slingshot, or unexpectedly flirting with a woman in their group.

All these actions are quite bizarre. If they monitor all of them, they will think I must be plotting something. This kind of thinking can be tormenting; I used to often fall into this vicious cycle, and they would definitely investigate the places I’ve been. So, I left cigarette butts in the guesthouse and my belongings in the dustiest corners of the temple. In such places, as long as someone checks, there will definitely be traces left behind.

At the same time, the act of sticking hair in the window cracks can temporarily hinder their actions; at least they wouldn’t dare to easily enter my room. This also serves as a reminder to them that I seem to know something, making them act more cautiously. My strategy is akin to constantly scattering nails around me; as long as there are invisible monsters nearby, they will surely step on them. The most pitiful thing is that these monsters can’t turn against me; for now, they can only watch me from the sidelines.

The situation they are facing now is that I seem to know something, so they have to be very, very careful in their actions. However, I have also done a lot of strange things, so they need to check everything. I returned to my room, not continuing to read, but instead turned off the lights, moved my bed in the darkness, and curled up, preparing to go to sleep early. I have monitored others before and know that the most frustrating thing for those who are watching is when nothing happens all night, and then that thing only starts moving at five or six in the morning. That’s when people are the most tired and prone to making mistakes. So I need to get a good night’s sleep tonight.

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