Chapter 41 The Past Tales and Schemes of the Nine Gates

In the study of the Xie family's old mansion, the wooden bookshelves gleamed with a cold, aged light. A draft ruffled the corners of the thread-bound ancient books on the shelves, making a soft rustling sound, as if sighing for the silence that filled the room. On the rosewood desk lay a yellowed old photograph—the boy in the photo had bright eyes and wore an old-fashioned school uniform, bearing a striking resemblance to Wu Xie at this moment. Zhang Qiling's fingertips traced the edge of the photograph, his fingertips brushing against the boy's face, a gesture tinged with an inexplicable melancholy.

Wu Xie gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white, his eyes fixed on the photo: "Brother, who is this? Why... does he look so much like me?"

Zhang Qiling raised his eyes, his voice as flat as frost: "Qi Yu. He was sent by the Wu family during the Four Sisters Mountain Operation in 1956, and he disappeared later. Everything Wu Sansheng and Xie Lianhuan did was to mold you into their image."

"To become like him?" Wu Xie's voice trembled as he reached up and touched his face, as if to confirm if it was his own. "So I studied architecture, liked going to Panjiayuan, even the tone of my voice... were all taught by them? I'm not myself, just a substitute?"

Black Bear leaned against the wall beside Zhang Qiling, twirling a small bronze mirror in his hand. Upon hearing this, the mirror clattered against the wall. He took two steps forward and quietly patted Zhang Qiling's back—Zhang Qiling's back had tensed again when they recounted the past, the pain of being tricked by the Nine Gates. "It's not just about appearance. They want to use you as 'bait' to lure the Wang family out—the Wang family has been searching for Qi Yu, and your appearance is perfect for drawing them out; at the same time, you're also a 'pawn' to appease the other factions of the Nine Gates, making everyone believe that the Wu family still holds the lead on Qi Yu."

Xie Yuchen's hand, holding the teacup, suddenly froze. Scalding tea splashed onto his fingertips, but he didn't notice. His gaze fell on the bank statement on the table—the three characters "Xie Lianhuan" in the payee's column stung his eyes like red-hot needles. "Xie Lianhuan is still alive?" His voice tightened, his knuckles grinding against the teacup. "My dad said he died twenty years ago in the underwater tomb, and they never even found his ashes… He's been lying to me all along?"

No one spoke. Zhang Qiling took out a leather notebook from the drawer, opened it to a page, and saw Xie Lianhuan's handwriting: "Yu Chen is young, don't let him get involved in this." "He faked his death, firstly to hide from the Wang family, and secondly to avoid getting you involved. But he sends money to Wu Xie every month and keeps an eye on your activities in the capital; he's not really ignoring you."

Xie Yuchen took the notebook, his fingertips tracing the familiar handwriting. He suddenly laughed, a laugh tinged with bitterness: "Afraid I'll get involved? But I've been in there for a long time. From the day I took over the Xie family's gambling operations, I've never escaped the quagmire of the Nine Gates." He lowered his head and wiped his glasses. His eyes behind the lenses were red, but he didn't let the tears fall—the Xie family's pride wouldn't allow him to show weakness in front of others.

Fatty Wang picked up the household registration page from the ground, flipping through it noisily. The more he read, the angrier he became. He slammed the page on the table: "That old bastard Wu Sansheng is utterly despicable! He opened a separate account for Wuxie and sent him money every month, not because he was afraid Wuxie would run away, but because he was afraid Wuxie would be short of money! He treats people like objects, has he lost all his conscience?"

Zhang Qiling didn't reply, but picked up the map on the table and pointed to the mark of Mount Siguniang: "In the operation in 1956, all the leaders of the Nine Gates were trapped in quicksand, and I pulled them out. But then, Zhang Qishan joined forces with the other gates to send me to the Golmud Sanatorium—they wanted me to recall the route to the underground palace and to find clues about the Zhang family's longevity."

"Hiss—" Fatty Wang gasped, "Those people are awful! We saved them, and they turn around and bite us?"

Hei Xiazi took out a cigarette but didn't light it, just twirled it between his fingers: "Later, the Zhang family from overseas found the sanatorium and rescued him. The Zhang family from overseas is still in Beijing, guarding the alley entrance. The Wang family and the Nine Gates don't dare to come over easily, so it's very safe."

These words were like a reassuring pill, easing the tension in the study. Zhang Qiling glanced at Hei Xiazi, the coldness in his eyes softening slightly—over the years, whether in the darkness of the sanatorium or the later hardships, Hei Xiazi had always been able to offer him some comfort when he needed it.

"Alright, stop standing there." Black Bear put his cigarette back in his pocket and patted Zhang Qiling on the shoulder. "You must be tired after talking for so long. The Xie family has spare rooms, so stay here tonight and we can discuss anything else tomorrow. The Zhang family overseas will be keeping an eye on things, so no one will dare to cause trouble."

Xie Yuchen nodded, got up and walked towards the door: "I'll go tidy up two rooms. Wuxie, if you want to be alone for a while, the study is for you." He walked quickly, as if afraid that if he stayed any longer, he would lose control of his emotions—he needed to find a place to think carefully about Xie Lianhuan's matter, and to think about how many secrets the Xie family was still hiding.

Fatty Wang tugged at Wu Xie's arm, his tone softening: "Stop obsessing over it, let's eat first. I just saw some food in the kitchen, I'll show off my skills and make you some braised pork to help you recover."

Wu Xie didn't move, but just stared at the old photos on the table. After a long time, she said softly, "I want to be alone for a while."

Fatty Wang sighed, stopped trying to persuade him, and followed Xie Yuchen out of the study.

Only Zhang Qiling and Hei Xiazi remained in the study. Hei Xiazi walked to Wu Xie's side and placed a glass of warm water in front of him: "If you can't figure it out, take your time to think about it. No one is forcing you. But you must know that you are not Qi Yu's substitute—you are Wu Xie, a brother who has fought alongside us and risked his life. This is more important than anything else."

Zhang Qiling leaned against the bookshelf, watching Wu Xie's retreating figure, and added, "Wu Sansheng's plan and Jie Lianhuan's feigned death were not your fault. You can choose the path you want to take."

Wu Xie didn't speak, but simply picked up the water glass and gently rubbed his fingertips against the glass.

Hei Xiazi walked to Zhang Qiling's side and naturally took his hand. The coolness from his fingertips made Zhang Qiling's heart tighten: "Are you tired? I'll take you to your room to rest for a while."

Zhang Qiling nodded, without letting go of Hei Xiazi's hand. As the two walked out, Hei Xiazi glanced back at Wu Xie, then gently closed the door—some things you have to figure out yourself; no one else can help you.

The corridor was quiet, with only the sound of their footsteps. Hei Xiazi suddenly stopped, took a small medicine bottle out of his pocket, and handed it to Zhang Qiling: "Does your back still hurt? Apply this medicine; it should help a bit."

Zhang Qiling took the medicine bottle, touched Hei Xiazi's hand with his fingertips, and whispered, "It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Don't force yourself." Hei Xiazi smiled and leaned close to his ear. "The Zhang family from overseas said they'll be here tomorrow, bringing some medicinal herbs from Changbai Mountain. They'll help you recover."

Zhang Qiling's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't speak. Instead, he gripped Hei Xiazi's hand even tighter.

Moonlight streamed through the corridor window, casting long shadows on the two figures. Outside, the Zhang family members from overseas, hidden in the shadows of the trees, watched the alley entrance warily, guarding this temporary peace. In the study, Wu Xie was still staring blankly at the old photograph; from outside the kitchen, Wang Pangzi's voice drifted in, tinged with a boisterous laugh; at the end of the corridor, Xie Yuchen was on the phone, his tone uncertain as he asked, "Is Xie Lianhuan really still alive?"