Perhaps because he had used Caloni and the Hercules Super Nitrogen Pump too often recently, Fang Linyan hadn't been sleeping well.
That night, he went to bed at ten thirty. But after getting up to use the bathroom at two in the morning, he couldn't fall asleep again, so he had no choice but to get up and stroll around the yard.
Moonlight flowed like water. Beneath the grape trellis, clusters of green grapes hung low, looking as if they'd been carved from jade. Cicadas chirped in the night, while the crickets and katydids in the vegetable garden joined in, filling the air with a lively clamor.
The air carried the fresh, damp scent of the countryside. It made Fang Linyan, whose respiratory system had been badly damaged, feel quite comfortable. He narrowed his eyes slightly and considered where to go next.
By now, he had learned just how powerful the Anmoreya Corporation was. It would be difficult for them not to discover the things he had done behind their backs, so it was clear that a free port like Tai City was no longer a suitable place to stay.
Fang Linyan decided his next destination should be the mainland, a vibrant place with an exceptionally safe environment. After making up his mind, he picked up a glass of water, sighed helplessly, frowned, and drank it down.
Then he heard a faint buzzing sound coming from somewhere. It left him confused for a moment. He froze for at least two seconds before identifying the direction it came from. Turning around, he went inside and found the source.
In that instant, Fang Linyan held his breath. It took him a long while to calm himself before he pulled the source of the sound from his travel bag—the mysterious old-fashioned candy-bar phone that had appeared out of nowhere. It seemed not to need charging at all; its battery was always full.
It had been a text message on this old phone that had led him to the life-saving medicine he now had, though there had been a small misunderstanding along the way.
What kind of information would the phone's latest vibration bring?
Sweat had made the phone's black plastic casing slick, and Fang Linyan almost felt it slipping from his hand. When he pressed the confirm button, the black-and-white screen lit up. This time, it showed three new text messages.
If you carefully read the information I left you earlier and followed the instructions, you should have escaped the agonizing pain of late-stage cancer by now. However! I have to warn you about one thing: the retroviral vector injections you received were formulated for pancreatic cancer.
Yes, they were created by the Anmoreya Corporation to threaten—or, you might say, buy off—Randall. So they won't be particularly effective against late-stage lung cancer. They can only keep your symptoms under control for a while, and that's all. Eight retroviral vector injections will extend your life by two months at most, though they'll also greatly improve your quality of life.
So you'll need to do something new if you want to prolong your life. At ten thirty this Friday morning, go to Keith Cafe at No. 3 Baisheng Road. Take the black wallet on the counter and have a cup of coffee. Of course, the usual rules apply: don't arrive early, and don't be late.
Finally, good luck.
Reading the three new messages, Fang Linyan fell silent. He studied the instructions carefully, then fixed his gaze on the words "eight retroviral vector injections."
There was one clear detail that stood out: Fang Linyan had only received five retroviral vector injections. So why did the message say eight? Was it a typo, or was there some other reason?
The information that followed irritated Fang Linyan just as much. Another vague set of instructions! It included all three essential elements—time, place, and event—yet revealed nothing about what would actually happen.
Being kept in the dark like this made Fang Linyan deeply uncomfortable. He was a controlling person by nature, and keeping everything firmly in his own hands was almost instinctive. Yet under the mysterious person's arrangements, he had no choice but to face this deeply awkward situation.
With a sigh, Fang Linyan could only accept reality. His energy was still too limited to spare for thinking about anything else.
After a quick search online, Fang Linyan realized he was still in a hurry. It was already Wednesday, and Baisheng Road was nearly a hundred kilometers away. According to the electronic map, it was inside a famous tourist spot that had become popular online, a full sixty kilometers from the center of Tai City.
"So?" Fang Linyan glanced at the sky and murmured calmly to himself. "Time to set out?"
***
A day later, Fang Linyan appeared on Baisheng Road.
He had already changed his appearance. Sunglasses and a one-piece hooded outfit were standard, and he wore at least a dozen heavy-metal pendants. Add the baggy jeans, and he looked just like a young hip-hop fan. As for lodging, he had simply rented a camping tent. Camping under the stars was one of the main attractions of this scenic area.
He walked up and down the road six times. With crowds of people everywhere, Fang Linyan attracted no one's attention. But he didn't enter the cafe. Unlike the desolate wharf from before, this cafe had people on-site. If he went in without thinking, he might trigger a chain reaction—and that was the last thing he wanted.
Then he could only prepare and wait.
Taking the lesson from last time to heart, Fang Linyan got up nearly three hours early from the tent he'd rented. He took his medicine and ate breakfast. By the time he reached Baisheng Road, it was only seven thirty, clearly far too early. Wandering around an empty street that early in the morning would also make him stand out too much.
So Fang Linyan had no choice but to return to the tent and sit on his sleeping mat, staring into space.
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