"Hmph!" Xiao Heshang sneered. "Hao Wenming, huh? Back then he was just a little follower trailing behind Gao Fatty's ass. Every time he opened his mouth, it was 'not me, not me.' Even if he turned to ash, I could still recognize his bones."
"Then why did you pretend not to know him? Old Xiao, you can't act so high and mighty," Sun Fatty teased with a sly grin.
"That's the mildest thing. Do you think there are good people around Gao Fatty?" Xiao Heshang said with some indignation.
"Enough, enough," I interrupted, afraid Xiao Heshang would start scolding Gao Liang right at the front gate. "Let's get down to business. With so much stuff here, we should find a place to store it first."
"Everything's ready," Sun Fatty chimed in. "Last night I contacted Ouyang Pianzuo. He arranged for us to use a warehouse on the second basement level to stash the stuff temporarily. I'll find buyers soon — hope to sell it off quickly."
"Really selling? These are national treasure-level items; aren't you keeping a few for ourselves?" I looked at those big crates feeling a bit reluctant. I thought maybe we could pick some to keep as family heirlooms for the Old Shen family.
"Keeping these things won't do any good." This time, Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang surprisingly agreed to get rid of the treasures quickly. Sun Fatty said, "Lazi, holding onto them is too risky. Like you said, these are national treasures. It's not thieves we fear stealing them, but those who have their eyes on them. The two thieves in Ma Xiaolin's family are a perfect example. Guarding these things every day — it's a miracle no one's gone crazy yet."
Xiao Heshang nodded in agreement. "Yeah, better to deal with it sooner. The earlier, the sooner we can clear our minds."
After putting Ma Xiaolin's collection into the warehouse on the second basement level, Xiao Heshang had nothing better to do and stayed there to count the haul from our Hong Kong trip.
Sun Fatty and I waited in a room until Hao Wenming came out from Gao Liang's office. It wasn't anything major — just asking about the details of the Hong Kong trip. Apart from not mentioning the "materials" Ma Xiaolin donated to Lingyun Temple at the end, we told Hao Wenming everything else, including the Misfortune Deity and the portrait of Wu Rendi.
"I'm not saying anything, but I don't know if it's your luck or bad luck. You've barely been with the Bureau of Paranormal Investigation for a few days and you've already seen the Misfortune Deity. Even if it's a niche deity, it's still a deity," Hao Wenming said, sighing repeatedly. I wasn't sure if he was envious or mocking our bad luck.
"Director Hao, if you're really jealous, you should go see Director Wu of the Sixth Division. He might grant your wish," Sun Fatty joked.
"Sun Fatty, how many times have I told you? Don't imitate me when there's nothing going on!" Hao Wenming seemed a bit annoyed. But from where I stood, it was clear he had no comeback for Sun Fatty.
As soon as Wu Rendi was mentioned, Hao Wenming lost his temper. He wanted to argue but didn't want to mention Wu Rendi — so he just gave up. I found it amusing and suddenly had a thought: Wu Rendi seemed to have no friends at the Bureau. The only person he could really talk to was Gao Fatty, the director.
"Sun Fatty, I find it hard to get along with you. Forget it, I'm not chatting with you anymore. Anyway, there's nothing important. You two don't need to hang around here — go rest early. If you have time these days, remember to see the finance department and pay the construction fund. Don't forget," I suspected that Gao Liang had called Hao Wenming over just to remind us about this.
As soon as we left the room, Sun Fatty started making calls. After nearly a hundred calls, surprisingly, there was news quickly. Through friends of friends, we actually found a channel to sell these treasures.
"Big Saint, is it reliable? Don't let anyone fool us again," I said, still a bit skeptical that a buyer could be found so quickly. It felt too good to be true.
Sun Fatty smirked at me. "Lazi, if someone can fool my people, they haven't been born yet."
Still uneasy, I said, "I'm coming with you."
"Forget it. I'm not saying this to offend you, Lazi, you're good at fighting, but when it comes to business, you're miles behind."
After he said that, I suggested, "How about you bring Xiao Heshang along?"
Sun Fatty didn't object, and Xiao Heshang immediately agreed without hesitation. Their instincts and awareness in situations like this were remarkably alike.
These things are better done sooner than later. Sun Fatty contacted the buyer and set the viewing for the next day. If everything was fine, the buyer would pay in full within a week.
I wanted to go along to see, but they both refused stubbornly, saying more people means more trouble — just the two of them was perfect.
Early the next morning, Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang took all the antiques and paintings (I didn't understand this approach — they said it was to avoid prolonged trouble, one-time deal means less hassle) to the agreed place. They still hadn't returned by dinner. At first, I thought maybe it was because these were national treasure-level artifacts — verifying them one by one would take some time. But a few hours later, I realized I had been too naive.
After 3 AM, I was awakened by a ringing phone. It was Director Gao's secretary: "Report to the conference room within twenty minutes." Then he hung up before I could ask what meeting it was about.
Just as I was getting dressed, Po Jun gave me a call too, asking about the meeting. He was just as confused. According to him, unless something major had happened, it was extremely rare to hold a full meeting in the dead of night.
It really seemed like something big had gone down. I ran into Po Jun at the main gate, and we rushed to the conference room together—only to find that the room was nearly empty. Besides Hao Wenming, the only one seated at the head of the table was Director Gao Liang. Standing below were just two people: Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang.
Huh? When did Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang come back? And they didn't even bother to look for me first? I'm one of the stakeholders in the Hong Kong operation too, aren't I? But judging by their expressions, they didn't look like people who had just struck it rich. Sun Fatty had both hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded as he stared at the ground, clearly trying to regulate his breathing. Xiao Heshang had his arms crossed, eyes rolled toward the ceiling.
"We're all here. Director Hao, go ahead," said Fatty Gao. His expression gave away nothing. Hao Wenming, though, looked... interesting. His face was taut, upper teeth pressing into his lower lip, and his chin was trembling slightly—like he was barely holding back a laugh.
"Ahem! Around midnight last night, the Capital Police Department contacted Director Gao," Hao Wenming began. "They said that in the course of cracking a major cultural relics smuggling case, they arrested two suspects. According to the suspects' own statements, they claimed to be an investigator and a consultant from the Bureau of Folk Traditions and Affairs…"
Sun Fatty didn't react. He kept staring at the floor like he hadn't heard a word. But the one next to him wasn't having it. Xiao Heshang suddenly turned his head and snapped, putting on his senior airs as he barked at Hao Wenming, "Hao Wenming, watch your mouth! What do you mean suspects? You're the suspect—your whole damn family's full of suspects!"
"Consultant Xiao, please, calm down. I'm just reporting what was said. The police department phrased it that way, not me." Hao Wenming looked utterly innocent, clearly scared of crossing Xiao Heshang. In fact, judging by their tone, their roles had completely flipped—Hao had been reduced to the subordinate.
Xiao Heshang was clearly about to unload on him, probably looking to vent all his anger, when Director Gao intervened just in time. "Heshang, was he wrong? If I didn't still have some sway over at the Police Department, you and Sun Desheng would still be locked up. Do you even know how long the sentence is for trafficking state-level cultural relics? You're pushing seventy—trying to spend your golden years behind bars? You'd better think hard about your actions." Then he turned to Sun Fatty. "Sun Desheng, explain yourself. Start talking."
Sun Fatty kept his hands in his pockets and lowered his head. "I was wrong. I made an inexcusable mistake. The fact that I could commit such a mistake is a result of my failure to maintain strict standards for myself…" The whole thing sounded like he was reading a script—same pace from start to finish, no tone, no pauses, no emotion. It was like listening to someone chant sutras.
"Enough, Sun Desheng. Shut it." Gao Liang frowned. He had recruited both me and Sun Fatty personally into the Bureau. He knew Fatty's background better than anyone. Back in Narcotics, Sun Fatty was famous for being a hard case—which probably had something to do with why he later became an undercover agent. Over time, his self-criticisms had turned into a ritual, and he was basically immune to disciplinary meetings.
"Tell me where those antiques and paintings came from," Gao Liang changed tack, trying a new strategy.
"Found it."
"Inherited."
Two different answers, same deadpan delivery. The two of them exchanged a glance before upgrading their excuse to Version 2.0. Sun Fatty added, "Those items were passed down through my family for generations. Then we lost them somehow."
Xiao Heshang continued, "And I picked them up—purely by chance."
The muscles at the corner of Director Gao's eyes began to twitch. "You two need to give me a break."
I didn't learn the full story until later. The so-called "friend of a friend of a friend" that Sun Fatty had reached out to for help was actually an undercover agent in the police—an unofficial peer from his days in Narcotics. Normally, with his experience, Sun Fatty would've seen through the guy immediately. But as they say, when you're too eager, you lose your edge. With a massive payday in sight—so huge they couldn't even find the right words to describe it—Fatty had gotten carried away. He never even considered the possibility.
The moment the experts started examining just the first two artifacts, one of them secretly gave the signal. Police officers who had been lying in wait burst in. A dozen guns were suddenly pointed straight at Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang's foreheads.
Once they were dragged to the police station and the experts completed the verification, everyone was shocked. Nearly every single item was a state-level cultural relic, and most of them were registered stolen property. This was enough to qualify as one of the top ten relic smuggling cases since the founding of the nation. And the two suspects? One old, one fat—both looking like seasoned tricksters. Were they the real-life Jack Sparrows of the tomb-raiding world?
Given the gravity of the case, the interrogators used some… persuasive methods. Since Xiao Heshang was elderly, they focused more on Sun Fatty.
But before they could do much, just a bit of intimidation really, Sun Fatty decided not to suffer in silence and name-dropped the Bureau's director.
By the time Gao Liang arrived, the two of them were handcuffed to a radiator. Sun Fatty was still yelling, "Comrades! This is all a misunderstanding! I'm one of you! I used to work in Narcotics—ask anyone in the department about Sun Fatty. We go way back. I'm still technically part of the Ministry! We're all one big family!"
Seeing them like this, Gao Liang was furious—but in the end, these two were still his people. Not to mention, he and Xiao Heshang had decades of history. Like it or not, he had to get them out.
Fortunately, the chief of the police department had at least heard of the Bureau of Folk Traditions and Affairs. While he hadn't dealt with Gao Liang directly, he also didn't want to embarrass a fellow department head. After all, anyone in law enforcement has run into something… strange at some point. And who's to say they wouldn't need help from this weird little bureau someday?
That said, he didn't buy Gao Liang's story one bit—that Sun Desheng and Xiao Heshang were using those relics as bait to uncover a major smuggling ring.
Gao Liang had no choice. In the middle of the night, he called the Minister of Police. After a long and painful explanation, the minister finally agreed—reluctantly—to order the release of the two men, with no records filed.
As a side note, a TV news crew caught wind of the incident and rushed to cover what they thought was a massive relic smuggling bust. But by then, Fatty and Heshang had already been taken away by Director Gao. With nothing else to show, the police department had no choice but to send out two undercover cops in civilian clothes, wearing ski masks—pretending to be Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang.
And that's how the meeting ended, wrapped in confusion. Internally, both of them were issued major demerits. No formal notice. Nothing on the record. I mean, really—how is that even a punishment?
When we left the meeting room, both Sun Fatty and Xiao Heshang looked like different people. Aside from the obvious fatigue on their faces, they were fuming with frustration.
Xiao Heshang glared and muttered, "In the end, it was still Ma Xiaolin who got the upper hand. Even with death looming, that old fox is still playing games—and playing them well. He really does value money more than his life."
Compared to him, Sun Fatty was more action-oriented. He snorted coldly. "Ma Xiaolin knew damn well those antiques were hot goods, and he still gave them to us? Is he out of his mind? I'm going back to Hong Kong. If he doesn't explain himself, I'll rip out his gallbladder."
Seeing how furious they were, I tried to smooth things over. "Come on, Old Xiao, Dasheng. It's not like Ma Xiaolin gave them to you willingly. At best, it was more of a passive thing. Besides, he's just some Hongkonger—what would he know about whether they're stolen goods or not?"
Neither of them said a word. After a while, Xiao Heshang finally muttered, "Lazi, you're just going to let this go? A third of that haul belonged to you too, you know."
I looked at Sun Fatty and replied, "Let it go. Are you seriously going back to Hong Kong to confront Ma Xiaolin? It's not worth it. Chasing wealth too recklessly never ends well. There'll be plenty of chances to make money later."
"That's easy for you two to say," Xiao Heshang added. "But what about me? How many more years do I have left? I need to save something for retirement—what if I can't even walk in a few years?"
I laughed. "Old Xiao, didn't your film company still have a bag of gold ingots? That should last you a while." He gave me a look and mumbled something I didn't catch. But from the look on his face, it seemed like he'd already accepted this round of bad luck.