The young man let out a muffled grunt, but instead of doing anything else, he turned his head back and slammed the back of his head into the blue-robed Tibetan’s head. The blue-robed Tibetan shouted loudly, meeting the impact with his forehead. There was a loud “bang,” and the fat man had never heard two people collide heads so loudly; it was as if an ordinary person’s brains would spill out from their nostrils.

Both of them recoiled; the blue-robed Tibetan took two steps back to steady himself, while the young man fell directly to the ground. The blue-robed man approached, took a look at the young man’s unusually long fingers, and with a swift motion, cut off two of them without hesitation. He then shook them clean and placed them into a leather pouch at his waist.

The fat man came over, somewhat reluctant to watch, but the blue-robed man’s actions were too quick for him to stop. He squatted down to examine the unconscious young man and gave a thumbs-up to the blue-robed man.

One thing brings down another. This man was the only one in the world who could match the young master, and he was also the most powerful force in Wu Xie’s entire scheme. It was as if a shepherd was being hunted by sheep; even the smallest details were enough to leave the shepherd puzzled.

Of course, this was not the ultimate goal. The fat man hoisted the young man onto his shoulders, and the three of them hurriedly vanished into the night. Everyone’s objective was the seal belonging to the Jie family. With this unique seal, they could withdraw the antiques stored by the Jie family from banks around the world. Jie Yuchen’s business philosophy was quite similar to that of jade trading; cash was not important. In today’s booming antique auction market, controlling the quantity at the source and managing the auction houses to hoard quality items was the core of the business.

Unlike those provincial bumpkins, Jie Yuchen was the greatest contributor to preventing China’s national treasures from flowing abroad. A large number of undisclosed national treasures were kept in vacuum safes, maintained at constant temperature and humidity, and sealed off from the air under the Jie name. Jie Yuchen was also the pioneer of the concept of hiding treasures among the people; he did not trust the existing cultural relics protection system and preferred to distribute these national treasures among the populace. The first treasure-hiding club in Beijing, managed in a fund-like manner, was also founded by Jie Yuchen.

A child who could manipulate a vast commercial empire and control these ruthless people did so because they monopolized all major transactions through belief.

Huo Xiuxiu understood this theory. The specially made seal, which changed patterns with precision down to the second, corresponded with the database systems of those banks and could not be replicated; there was only one in the world. It was now hanging around Huo Xiuxiu’s neck.

As they walked towards the fat man’s Polo, Huo Xiuxiu pulled down the seal and tossed it into the storm drain by the roadside. As the water washed over it, the seal was carried deep into the drain. Three months later, after the backup battery ran out, the seal would stop changing. The wealth valued at nearly 30 billion would turn into a dead asset, forever sealed within the bank.

But no one knew that they would still regard these three individuals as the key holders of that wealth. Not long ago, Jie Yuchen had sat in front of her and said, “To muddy the waters, you need to hand the greatest value to an absolute weakling, and then throw her into the jungle of wolves and tigers. At that moment, you will surely see everyone’s true colors.”

This was how the Buddha had taught Tang Seng back in the day, of course, the Monkey King had to be there too.

The fat man started the car. The space in the Polo was too small, and several people were squeezed together uncomfortably. “Didn’t you know we were going to kidnap someone? Couldn’t you have taken a bigger car?”

“I’m not doing so well financially lately,” the fat man replied, starting the car and awkwardly stepping on the gas. “Only two minutes left; keep an eye on the red lights for me.”

The first to join them was Zhu Bajie. Huo Xiuxiu sighed as the small car drove out of the alley and onto the main street, heading straight for Shunyi. Just as they reached the first intersection, a bus came roaring towards them. The fat man jerked the steering wheel wildly, narrowly avoiding the bus, then slammed on the gas. The little Polo accelerated instantly, running three red lights in a row. Amid the flashing lights, they began to race down the wrong side of the road.

Huo Xiuxiu was tossed around, banging her head three times, shouting, “What are you doing?” The fat man replied, “They’ve used this trick before; I was prepared. This car’s engine has been modified.”

He found a gap and turned back onto the correct lane, but cars were already chasing them from behind.

“You can’t film a car chase in Beijing!” the fat man shouted out the window. In front of them was a red light, and he slammed on the brakes. The pursuing car rushed up beside him, and the fat man grabbed a detonator, lit it, and threw it into the other car’s window.

In an instant, all four doors of the car flew open, and the people inside scrambled out.

The fat man stepped on the gas, squeezing past the two cars in front, and sped through the red light. Huo Xiuxiu yelled, “You could hurt someone else!”

“Don’t worry, the two I threw were real; the rest are all fake. Where am I going to get so many detonators? This is Beijing,” the fat man said, making a sharp turn. In Beijing, the difference between a red light could be the difference between being seen and unseen. They sped onto the airport expressway, zooming past the third ring road and heading straight up to the Jingcheng Expressway.

After getting off at Houshayu and onto Huosha Road, they entered a small road and arrived at a villa area, stopping in front of one of the villas.

The fat man dragged the young man out of the car and kicked the door open. Huo Xiuxiu asked, “Is this your house?”

“My buddy’s house.”

“Is this how you treat your buddy’s door?”

“They’re on vacation. It’s fine; this guy has money.” The fat man kicked open the living room door, tossed the young man onto a chair, and turned to pour himself some liquor from the coffee table, taking a couple of swigs and spraying it onto the young man’s face.

“Stop pretending; this is vodka,” the fat man said, lighting a cigarette. He poured the remaining liquor into a line on the coffee table and struck a match. It ignited. “If you don’t open your eyes, I’ll set you on fire; I can do it.”

The young man opened his eyes, and the fat man asked, “What’s your name?”

“Chen Haisheng.”

“I mean your clan name,” the fat man said.

The young man looked at him and was silent for a moment. “Wang Can.”

He spoke with a Beijing accent, sounding quite relaxed.

The fat man nodded. “According to clan rules, you can’t say anything, and no one will come to save you. If there’s a chance, they’d prefer you to die quickly, right?”

The young man smiled slightly, seemingly unconcerned.

“But there’s another rule in the clan: when you encounter certain people, you must obey unconditionally, right?” the fat man said.

The young man’s smile froze. “Who exactly are you?”

The fat man stepped back, and a blue-robed Tibetan approached the young man, removing the bandages wrapped around his hands.

“On the back of his hand, there was a tattoo of a phoenix. Its tail feathers were raised, extending into the sleeve of the Tibetan person.

The fat man said from behind, ‘We need you to do something for us, and you must comply; otherwise, you know the consequences.'”