"Hohhot is a transliteration of the Mongolian 'ᠬᠥᠬᠡᠬᠣᠲᠠ,' meaning 'the blue city,' a name that symbolizes warmth, simplicity, and hope."
The television in the plane's little first-class suite was playing a promotional video for the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region. Foreigners might have found its contents novel and interesting, but for Shoichi Kano, it was nothing more than a refresher on what he had learned in geography class in his previous life.
Consequently, he kept yawning as he listened.
As for the Slit-Mouthed Woman in another seat nearby, she had long since slumped into a deep sleep to digest the negative emotions she had absorbed at the Forbidden City.
"Our aircraft has begun its descent. Cabin service in business and economy class has ended, and the lavatories are temporarily unavailable. Please remain seated with your seat belts fastened and wait patiently."
"We will shortly arrive at Hohhot Baita International Airport. The ground temperature is 31°C, and the local weather is cloudy."
The sudden cabin announcement brought Shoichi Kano a measure of relief-they were finally almost there.
This time, they had learned their lesson in Beijing and avoided dealing with the authorities as much as possible. Instead, they had found a way to use Kenjaku's-or rather, Kaori Itadori's-overseas connections to hire a bounty hunter who operated throughout China as their guide.
Sure enough, shortly after they got off the plane, they found a black Toyota Crown already parked in the airport's waiting-area parking lot, with a middle-aged man in sunglasses standing beside it.
The man was holding a sign bearing a huge "Kano," as though he were there to pick up some celebrity, so Kano and his companion spotted him immediately.
"Hello," Shoichi Kano said, approaching with a smile. "Are you Boss Zhao?"
"That's right," Boss Zhao replied, all smiles. He glanced at the Slit-Mouthed Woman beside Shoichi Kano, then looked back at Kano himself. "I'm Zhao Qingshan."
His distinctly Cantonese accent added a touch of comedy, making him seem like a character who had wandered out of a Stephen Chow film.
Once they had confirmed one another's identities, Zhao Qingshan put away his sign and prepared to usher the pair into the car.
"You know we're here to find something, right, Boss Zhao?" Rather than getting into the car, the Slit-Mouthed Woman immediately asked, "Do you have any leads?"
Zhao Qingshan stared blankly at the young woman before him. Only after Shoichi Kano translated for him did he understand. "Oh, oh! Well, if you're asking about leads, I do have something."
"The information I've got says that thing once turned up on Hui Muslim Street. I don't know what happened after that."
"Let's drop our luggage off at the hotel first, then go have a look at Hui Muslim Street," Shoichi Kano suggested.
"Fine." The Slit-Mouthed Woman thought that sounded like a good plan.
Since Zhao Qingshan had already taken their money, he naturally had no objections. He stepped on the gas and drove them to the hotel he had arranged beforehand, then stepped on it again to take them to Hui Muslim Street.
The place had an intensely Islamic atmosphere; the entire street was practically steeped in Islam. To avoid attracting the great god of censorship, there would be no detailed description of the local sights. Anyone interested could take the keywords to Baidu, where plenty of relevant written material and photographs were available.
"Do you know which shop it was, Boss Zhao?" Seeing how easily Zhao Qingshan navigated Hui Muslim Street, Shoichi Kano naturally grew curious.
The Slit-Mouthed Woman had already realized that she and their guide did not speak the same language, so she chose to remain silent, only passing a few words to Zhao Qingshan through Shoichi Kano when necessary.
"Right here," Zhao Qingshan said, stopping in front of an antique shop so dilapidated that the urban development authorities might spray-paint "Demolish" on it at any moment. "Last month, I saw someone carry a clock out of here with my own eyes."
"Was it the thing we're looking for?" Kano pressed.
Zhao Qingshan sounded fairly certain. "There's a better than eighty percent chance."
Boss Zhao knocked on the antique shop's door before pushing it open and entering.
Nothing happened when he and Shoichi Kano entered. But the instant the Slit-Mouthed Woman stepped inside, the wind chimes hanging over the door began rattling wildly. Then all the somewhat decorative Five Emperor Coins charms hanging on the inside of the door snapped apart, scattering copper coins across the floor with a clatter.
The commotion naturally drew out the shopkeeper-a stocky, heavyset Mongolian man with a round face, a full beard, and long hair tied into dreadlocks.
A Mongolian on Hui Muslim Street... uh, that had a touch of black humor to it.
"You, Zhao!" the man barked in Chinese with a harsh, heavy Mongolian accent. "Nothing good ever happens when you show up! What do you want this time? Bringing something unclean here to wreck my shop?"
When he said "something unclean," he casually glanced at the Slit-Mouthed Woman beside Kano. But since she did not understand Chinese, she had no idea he was talking about her, and her gaze remained utterly untroubled.
"Brother Baoruri," Zhao Qingshan said, raising his hands in a clasped-fist salute. "I'm not here to wreck your shop today. I'm representing these two wealthy clients from abroad, and we'd like to discuss a deal."
The Mongolian man called Baoruri waved his hands repeatedly. "I've got no business to discuss with you. I sell antiques and things for dealing with demons and evil spirits. Their kind has no use for those."
"We're only buying information," Zhao Qingshan said rapidly, afraid Baoruri would back out.
"That's right," Shoichi Kano added. "Mr. Baoruri, we're only here to ask... where a certain item from your shop went. You can name your price."
Only then did Baoruri take a proper look at Shoichi Kano. Finding that he was merely a boy who looked like a high school student, his eyes took on a trace of contempt. "Someone your age shouldn't be coming to a place like this. You should get back to school and study. That's where you belong, isn't it?"
"This woman's your guardian, right? Let her talk to me. You don't qualify!"
"I don't qualify?" Shoichi Kano produced the Black Card Toji Fushiguro had given him earlier. "There should still be nearly twenty million yen in here. That ought to give me enough financial standing to negotiate with you."
Fortunately, Toji Fushiguro had forgotten to reclaim the Black Card he had used as bait after the Star Plasma Vessel Incident. Now, it made an excellent prop for Shoichi Kano to show off with.
"You think you can fool me with some fake bank card?" Baoruri remained dismissive, though his tone had softened considerably.
Smack! Shoichi Kano flicked the card onto the counter.
"You can verify the funds."
Baoruri gritted his teeth, then actually turned around and fetched a laptop. In front of everyone, he logged into online banking-with Shoichi Kano entering the password-and clicked on the balance inquiry. There really were over nineteen million yen left in the account. At the exchange rate at the time, that was nearly 1.4 million yuan, clearly an enormous sum.
Baoruri's attitude softened completely. "What do you want to know?"
Zhao Qingshan had not expected Shoichi Kano to back him up. He had intended to persuade Baoruri himself, but Kano's move had saved him the trouble.
He took out his photograph, and Kano also produced the photograph from Kaori Itadori's-Kenjaku's-letter. Both photographs were placed before Baoruri.
Baoruri could tell at a glance that both photographs showed the same object: a Western-Style Wall Clock that had passed through his shop.
"You want to know about this clock?" he asked.
"Yes. We'd like to know where you acquired it and who you sold it to." Shoichi Kano nodded.
After hearing Kano's answer, he fell back on the usual black-market merchant routine. "By the rules of our trade, we can't disclose our customers' information to outsiders."
Zhao Qingshan gritted his teeth and held up two fingers. "Two hundred thousand!"
"Yen?" Baoruri did not even raise an eyebrow.
"Yuan!"
The Mongolian man produced a rag from somewhere and began wiping a small Bronze Ding on the counter. "Then you can all see yourselves out."
"Half the balance on my Black Card!" Shoichi Kano threw out that staggering offer without hesitation.
If those yen came to 1.4 million yuan, half would be seven hundred thousand-more than three times Zhao Qingshan's offer.
The moment he said it, however, Zhao Qingshan was stunned. The Slit-Mouthed Woman only escaped the same reaction because she did not understand Chinese. He had been racking his brains to bargain on his employer's behalf, only for his employer to go straight for a massive multiplier?
Shoichi Kano's reasoning was simple-it was not his money anyway, but Toji Fushiguro's. He already owed the man three hundred million US dollars for the Slit-Mouthed Woman's Wrongful Death Blade Cursed Tool, so he did not care about this little extra.
Kano figured that the more he owed, the less Toji Fushiguro could do to him-if he killed him, who would repay the debt?
Besides, he still had Kenjaku's backing. From what he knew of Kenjaku, as long as the objective remained unfulfilled and the script had yet to finish playing out, Kenjaku would be unwilling to lose any pawns. Having Hanami rescue Jogo after Satoru Gojo beat him down to nothing but a head in the original story was a perfect example.
Baoruri stopped wiping the Bronze Ding. He tossed aside the rag, slapped himself twice, then spoke with a face full of smiles. "My apologies, my apologies. I must have drunk some counterfeit Airag. It's left me a bit muddleheaded."
"Since the three of you gods of wealth are so sincere, everything is open to discussion!"
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