The event at the Wallis Annenberg Performing Arts Center ended late at night United States Pacific Ocean Time. The cheerful laughter of couples returning from the Hollywood Bowl filled the streets of Los Angeles, while in the shadowy corners, staggering drunks and heavily made-up prostitutes could always be seen.
This is a time of both romance and filth, the perfect opportunity for lovers' rendezvous and drug deals.
After leaving Beverly Hills, Hou Biao nervously stared at the road ahead, listening to the safety warnings coming through his earpiece.
A drunk man suddenly rushed out and lunged at the hood of Hou Biao's Cadillac. Hou Biao didn't brake, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel the whole time. The front of the car slammed into the drunk man with a bang, the car only shook slightly, and then continued to drive forward smoothly.
Two men in black emerged from the darkness and dragged the drunk man who had been hit by a car onto the roadside into the shadows of a street corner. These were men sent by a Los Angeles gang; without them, Hou Biao's journey would never have been so easy.
Mei Yiqiu was indeed exhausted. Back in the presidential suite of the Hilton Hotel, he soaked in the Jacuzzi. The fragrant rose scent reminded him of his pipe. He had underestimated the comfort of the presidential suite's bathtub, thinking he would be out soon, so he casually left his pipe on the table outside.
He heard a knock on the door, and Mei Ziqing called from outside, "Professor, are you alright?"
"I'm fine!" the professor said lazily. "I just miss my pipe a little!"
Not long after, Mei Ziqing pushed open the bathroom door, carrying a pipe that had been refilled with tobacco. She placed the matches and pipe together on the shelf beside the bathtub and smiled:
"I thought you were asleep! You've never taken such a long bath before!"
When Mei Yiqiu saw the pipe, he perked up, dried his hands with a towel, put the pipe in his mouth, and said:
"I'm so exhausted! I've never been this tired before. The minds of these rich people and politicians are more unpredictable than the positions of electrons!"
The professor struck a match, lit the flame, and took a leisurely puff of his pipe.
Mei Ziqing walked behind the professor, squatted down, placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently massaged them.
The professor gave a soft hum and exhaled a long puff of white smoke. "Ah, that feels good!" It was unclear whether he meant the smoke felt good or the Mei Ziqing felt good to squeeze.
Mei Ziqing smiled and said, "Teacher, please get up. Let me give you a good massage. You're really exhausted!"
"Oh?" Mei Yiqiu suddenly remembered that this was his student, not the masseur he had hired, and quickly waved his hand, saying, "Never mind, you're tired too, no need."
"Teacher, do you think my technique is unprofessional?"
"No, your hands aren't for this."
"But you are my teacher, and it's an honor for a student to do something for you. I'll do anything you're willing to..."
Mei Yiqiu suddenly interrupted her rudely, "Stop talking! No matter who I am, your hands shouldn't be doing this! A scientist's hands are precious, noble, and irreplaceable! You should use them to grasp the stars, manipulate atoms, and dispel the cosmic clouds that obscure our vision, not to massage some old geezer!"
Mei Ziqing had never seen the professor so stern before, and was so frightened that she didn't know what to do. "Professor... I..."
Mei Yiqiu his hand, "I'm probably really too tired... You can go out now." He felt that his shoulders and Tushu were indeed a bit sore, so he added, "If you're going to give me a massage, find someone professional, oh, preferably a man. Also, it would be best if they knew a little about traditional Chinese medicine, oh, preferably cupping, I guess I've been smoking too much!"
Mei Ziqing asked, puzzled, "What does smoking have to do with cupping?"
Mei Yiqiu said, "The lungs govern the skin and hair, and cupping can clear the turbid air from the lungs... Oh, you don't need to understand this. Everyone has their own expertise. Don't be like this old man who tries to learn a little bit of everything. If I specialize in one thing, perhaps..."
He glanced at the ceiling, sighed, and said nothing more.
Mei Ziqing left, and not long after, Hou Biao came in and asked, "Professor, did you call the doctor?"
"A doctor? Oh, yes, yes, you're here so soon?" Mei Yiqiu felt she had indeed been soaking in the bathtub for a while, so she stood up, putting on her bathrobe as she asked, "Is it a man or a woman? Do you know cupping and acupuncture?"
Hou Biao said, "I don't know if he's a man or if he knows cupping. I need to verify his background to ensure your safety."
Mei Yiqiu said, "Don't be so nervous. You can just stand to the side. I just want a massage and cupping."
Hou Biao said, "Professor, you can't let your guard down. Today's art exhibition is clearly a conspiracy. Why won't you let me investigate them?"
Mei Yiqiu had already Hou Biao about what happened at the art exhibition. "There's nothing to investigate. These paintings are Ronald Cohen's private collection. Since Cohen isn't showing up, he's obviously taken precautions. We don't need to confront them head-on; that would only put us on the defensive. Qingmu and Professor Su aren't here, and our forces are too weak—you, me, Ziqing..."
Hou Biao said, "There are also people from Chinese gangs in Los Angeles."
"Oh yes, I should thank them properly." Mei Yiqiu dressing and walked out of the bathroom. "Could you arrange for me to visit Mr. Wolf before I go back? Oh, I heard he's not feeling well, so I'll see his son, Xiao Wolf."
Hou Biao noted down the professor's instructions, then opened the door for him and accompanied the professor to the bedroom, where Mei Ziqing was waiting.
At that moment, his subordinate's voice came through the earpiece. "The person has been verified; their background is fine."
Hou Biao nodded to Mei Ziqing, Mei Ziqing then asked the professor, "Shall we invite that traditional Chinese medicine doctor in now?"
Mei Yiqiu said, "Okay, let him in. Oh, how did you find him so quickly?"
Mei Ziqing said, "It was recommended by a friend of mine in Los Angeles. Although he is Japan, he really likes traditional Chinese medicine and often goes for massage and acupuncture."
Mei Yiqiu nodded and said, "I hope your Japan friend shares the same understanding of Traditional Chinese Medicine as I do."
Mei Ziqing smiled and said, "You'll know once you try it."
After she finished speaking, she went out and brought the doctor who was waiting in the living room in.
The man, in his thirties or forties, walked in and stood there smiling. The weathered look on his face suggested he was a man of many experiences. His hair was cut short, with a few strands of gray at his temples. He wore a crisp cashmere overcoat and a clean scarf around his neck. Overall, he looked very energetic and approachable, giving off a sense of stability and trustworthiness.
He said, "Hello, Professor, I've long admired your name!"
Mei Yiqiu said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. Where did you study traditional Chinese medicine? What are your skills?"
The man said, "To be honest, sir, I am self-taught."
"Self-taught?" The professor was somewhat surprised, but also appreciative. "Few people are willing to admit they are self-taught; they usually say they learned it from a famous traditional Chinese medicine doctor, or simply that it's a family tradition."
"Yes, sir." The man's reply was concise, as reliable as his appearance.
"So what did you do before? Why did you choose to study Traditional Chinese Medicine?"
"I am a surgeon and a graduate of Erasmus University Rotterdam. I studied Traditional Chinese Medicine to verify how different methods and concepts can lead to the same goal in scientific practice."
"And the results?"
"Very good, sir."
"Well, my gut feeling tells me you're more reliable than those self-proclaimed generations of healers," Mei Yiqiu tapped his pipe. "What's your name?"
"My Huang Liang, sir."