"What the eyes see is not necessarily true." – Chinese proverb
Hangzhou, China – October 10th, – 11:00 AM
Anna wakes up disoriented, a dull ache radiating through her body. She tries to move, but a firm hand holds hers down. Panic swells in her chest until she hears a familiar voice.
“Hey,” Hailee says softly, squeezing Anna’s hand.
“Hey,” Anna croaks, her throat raw from the yelling she did the night before. She coughs, and Hailee quickly brings a cup of water with a straw to her lips.
“Sip,” Hailee urges.
Anna obeys, taking slow sips until she feels strong enough to speak. “The girls... the girls are still—” Her voice breaks, rasping like sandpaper. Alarms from the heart monitor blare.
Hailee leans in, wrapping her arms around her sister. She rubs her back gently, her touch grounding Anna. “Shh, shh. They’re safe,” she whispers. “The police found them.”
Anna’s head swims with relief, but disbelief lingers. “What about—” she stutters, her thoughts darting to the injured girl.
Hailee anticipates her question. “She made it. She’s in the ICU, but the doctors are optimistic.”
The news finally sinks in. Anna relaxes against the pillow but keeps a firm grip on her sister’s hand. Letting go feels impossible right now.
“I’ll tell you everything,” Hailee begins, but a knock on the door interrupts her.
Man Zhu Bai steps into the room, carrying two bouquets of carnations mixed with wildflowers and greenery. Hailee gestures for him to come closer. He hands her both bouquets.
“For your sister and for you,” he says, his tone gentle.
“Thank you,” Hailee says, a shy smile curving her lips. She sniffs the flowers delicately and places them on the bedside table.
Anna observes the exchange, her thoughts tinged with dry humor. I get kidnapped, and my sister gets a date. At least something good came out of this.
“Hello, Miss Westcott,” Man Zhu Bai addresses Anna formally, his gaze respectful.
Hailee quickly steps in to make introductions. “This is Detective Man. He helped rescue you.” She turns to him. “Please, no need to be formal.”
Man Zhu Bai pulls out a chair for Hailee and then stands beside Anna’s bed. Before Anna can ask how he found her, another knock sounds at the door. A man enters, holding a simple vase with a vibrant red plum blossom sprig.
Anna’s heart rate monitor spikes wildly. She recognizes the man instantly.
“What the hell!” she exclaims, glaring at him. She turns to Man Zhu Bai, her voice sharp. “Arrest him.”
Iceberg stops mid-step at her outburst. Anna refuses to look away, daring him to make a move. He does, he places his foot down and then strolls into the room like he has every right to be there.
“He’s a police officer,” Hailee explains, her tone calm. “He came with you in the ambulance.”
Anna’s breathing slows, but her eyes remain locked on Kang. He steps forward and places the vase in her hands.
“Sorry,” he says, articulating the word carefully.
Anna shoves the vase back at him, “Sorry? Sorry isn’t going to cut it, asshole.” Her fists clench, her temper flaring.
“He’s the one who contacted the police,” Hailee interjects, her voice steady. “His name is Agent Kang Jia Zan. He was undercover.”
Anna’s jaw tightens as she processes this. Her glare doesn’t waver. “Then why did he tell me NOT to run away?” she snaps. Picking the first piece of evidence against him that came to her mind.
Hailee frowns, translating Anna’s accusation for Kang. He listens, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“Wǒ shuō: Táo chū chuāng wài,” Kang replies, his voice calm.
Hailee lips quirk up with mild amusement at the miscommunication. She turns to Anna. “He said, ‘Go out the window.’”
Anna scowls. “He could’ve just opened it.”
Kang’s eyes narrow slightly, but he says nothing. Anna crosses her arms, undeterred by his stare. With her sister and the detective in the room, she feels she doesn’t think he’ll try anything.
Kang pulls out his wallet and flips open his badge, holding it out for her to see. Anna's eyes narrow, “Is it real?” she challenges.
Hailee translates the question, though it feels unnecessary. Anna glances at Man Zhu Bai, seeking confirmation. He nods a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes.
Anna scrutinizes Kang. His expression is stoic, but she senses a faint trace of a smirk. Reluctantly, she mutters, “Thank you.”
Kang inclines his head slightly, acknowledging her thanks. Satisfied for now, he shifts his attention to Man Zhu Bai, his demeanor turning cold once more. He recognizes him from the night before. Detective Man Zhu Bai, graduated with honors from the academy and quickly rose through the ranks. The only smudge on his background is a divorce.
Man Zhu Bai meets his stare sensing the tension in the room. Kang notes the shift in the man’s posture, protective towards the sister instead of the victim. Then again, the spitfire can cut a man in half with her sharp green eyes.
He pulls up a chair from the empty side of the room and positions himself between Anna and anyone entering the room. He continues to study Man Zhu Bai. He can’t blame the detective for blowing his cover; it was his own decision to stay in the room with Anna instead of following Wu out.
Then again, the situation had been salvageable up until the shootout in the foyer. Now, a year’s worth of effort had been destroyed. Now it will be much harder to infiltrate the organization.
Anna and Hailee are grateful when a nurse comes in breaking the awkward silence in the room. The nurse, a no-nonsense woman in her fifties, wheels the portable table in front of Anna and places down her medications.
“The patient needs rest. Family only— doctor's orders,” the nurse says firmly eyeing the two men.
Man Zhu Bai takes the hint, offering a polite, “I’ll come back later”. Hailee sees him out.
Kang stands and waits for Anna to look at him. “Rest,” he commands. He knows she can’t understand the word, but she is smart enough to get the meaning.
Kang leans toward the nurse lowering his voice. “Please, bring some tea and honey for her throat.” Without waiting for a response, he returns the chair to its original place and leaves.
Anna watches his retreating figure and can’t help herself, she sticks her tongue out at his back.
Hailee crosses her arms and raises a brow at her sister’s antics, her lips twitching trying to hold down her mock frown.
Getting into the spirit Anna continues to indulge in her childishness. “He started it.” She says feigning innocence.
Hailee snickers, unable to keep a straight face.
Anna sinks down into the bed as Hailee adjusts her blankets.
“Did you tell Mom and Dad?” Anna asks.
Hailee sighs. “I told them you got stuck in customs because of your meds, your phone broke, mine died, and then jet lag hit. But Mom won’t let that excuse fly for long.”
Anna rubs her face. “I need to figure out how to tell them without making it sound…” She pauses, searching for the right word. “Dramatic.”
Hailee snorts, and then a giggle escapes, it is contagious.
“Oww,” Anna says between gasps “it hurts to laugh”
That only makes it worse. The sisters dissolve into helpless laughter, tears streaming down their faces. After more than twenty-four hours of fear and tension, the release is overwhelming. They laugh so hard they cry and cry so hard they laugh, clinging to each other as their emotions finally spill over.
***
Kang is satisfied to find Man Zhu Bai waiting for him outside the hospital; it saves him the trouble of calling. It’s time for the locals to step back. The fewer people involved, the less chance of someone getting hurt.
“Send me any reports and files. Thank you for your assistance, but this is now an ASB matter,” Kang states continuing to his vehicle. No surprise, the detective isn’t happy and follows him.
“That's bullshit. This is my case.” Man Zhu Bai says tersely.
Kang opens the door of his black SUV, but Man Zhu Bai shoves it closed. Kang doesn't flinch at the display. He turns to Man Zhu Bai and lays out the facts.
“A local station doesn't have the resources to handle a case like this.”
“If you could handle it, I wouldn't have a bunch of bodies with bullet holes in my morgue,” Man Zhu Bai scores a direct hit.
“If you want to point fingers, find out who on your team is trigger-happy. Have everything related to the case turned over by the end of the day.” Kang says bluntly, opening his door again. He slips into the driver’s seat, done with the argument.
Man Zhu Bai isn’t finished. He can’t stand the fact that something serious is happening in his city and Kang and the ASB are unwilling to share information. He steps between the open door and the vehicle, blocking it from closing.
“There were six more girls last night. How many of our own were you willing to sacrifice for the sake of whatever op you were running?”
Man Zhu Bai watches Kang’s face closely, noticing the twitch around his mouth and the spark of emotion in his eyes. He doesn’t think he is going to respond, but he does.
“I didn't know about the girls. The investigation--”
Man Zhu Bai changes his mind, he doesn’t want to hear bullshit excuses. It won’t change the fact that his case is taken away. Man Zhu Bai steps away from the car and slams the door shut before Kang can finish his sentence.
Kang watches Man Zhu Bai stride away, his knuckles white on the wheel. He didn’t know about the human trafficking, but even to himself, it was a lame excuse. He should have, he has a feeling that what he has seen of this operation is only the edge of the battlefield and the real fight is still hidden behind the horizon.
***
Finally recovered from their earlier fit, Anna and Hailee squeeze together on the narrow hospital bed in a video chat with their parents. The face on the screen is their mother, Liv Westcott, the type of woman who wears jeans with her pearls. She married their father at 18 and a year later gave birth to their brother Vin. After a series of miscarriages, she gave up on having more children until she found herself pregnant with the twins eight years later.
When Anna was born with congenital heart disease she gave up her job at an architectural firm to stay at home. She somehow managed in between Anna’s hospital stays to be active in Hailee and Vin’s lives as well.
Despite years of stress, the toll of medical bills, and endless worry, Liv’s face retains a youthful energy, her features a mix of Hailee’s elegance with Anna’s girl-next-door looks.
“I found a flight. I can be there in 48 hours.” Liv says determined to be by her girl’s side when they need her.
Anna is prepared, as much as she would love to be comforted by her mom’s embrace right now it isn’t practical. “Mom, I need you to gather my proof of ID and mail it to the embassy.”
“Your father can—” Liv starts, but then cuts herself off, realizing the suggestion is unrealistic. “I’ll book it as soon as I’ve got everything.”
Their father, Al Westcott, doesn’t take offense at his wife’s doubt in his paperwork abilities. Give him a hammer and nails, and he’ll build anything you want but don’t ask him to handle anything administrative.
He rubs Liv’s shoulders, knowing her distress over being so far away from their girls. He feels the same. He wishes he could reach through the screen, pull them close, and protect them.
“I can't believe waited this long to tell me you got mugged. Does the hospital have your med list?”
Hailee interjects hoping to ease her mom’s fear and anger, “Everything is taken care of. You don’t need to worry.”
Liv scoffs, “I'm your mother, I'm worried about you 24/7.”
Sensing an argument starting, Al cuts in. “We’re sending money for your tickets home.
Anna hastily nods wanting to defuse her mother's anxiety.
Everyone is caught off guard when the never-a-problem daughter Hailee says, “I don’t have time off until January.”
“You’re coming home, where you’re safe,” Al says, his tone brokering no argument.
Hailee stands her ground. She doesn’t want to worry her parents, but she has no intention of leaving China before her teaching contract ends.
“It could have happened anywhere,” She counters, “Statistically, Hangzhou is as safe as Boston.”
Through the screen and across the ocean, Hailee still feels a tinge of fear and regret as her mother slams her hand on the table. “I don’t give a damn about statistics,” Liv says, her voice trembling with anger and frustration as tears spill down her cheeks. “You’re coming home.”
Al puts an arm around Liv, and she leans on his shoulder drawing strength from his support.
***
Boston, USA – October 10th, – 1:00 AM
The golden dome of the State House gleams in the moonlight, while George Washington stands watch over the Common. In the harbor, the tea ship sways gently in the water. A few miles out in the Atlantic, a luxury yacht races toward international waters.
On the deck, a tuxedoed butler drags a bulky, blood-soaked sheet across the surface. Blonde hair peeks out from an open fold. With a grunt, he hefts the bundle over the railing and into the dark ocean below.
***
Anna ends the call with her parents along with her façade of bravado. Exhaustion settles over her, and the pain from torn muscles in her arms and the myriad of cuts and bruises all over her body were making themselves known.
“I miss Mom and Dad,” she murmurs, leaning on Hailee.
“Me too” Hailee replies, her tone tired as well.
Anna considers pointing out that Hailee could go home if she wanted to, but she bites her tongue. She doesn’t understand her sister's reluctance but isn’t ready to deal with whatever is holding Hailee back. So she says nothing.
Hailee’s heart twists with guilt, her parents’ upset voices still fresh in her mind. She knows this conversation was just the first step in a much larger battle. A battle she’s not even sure she wants to win. The thought of going home to the comfort and security of their family is undeniably tempting, but deep down, she knows she’s not ready yet.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“Do you think they’ll ever let me out of their sight again?” Anna’s voice breaks the silence.
“Nope,” Hailee says, deadpan.
***
Ryan runs a hand over his exhausted face, his jaw tightening as he checks his phone again. Nothing. No updates. No answers. The gnawing frustration claws at him—he hates when things are out of his control. His network of contacts is already working at full capacity, but it’s not enough.
The summons from his wàigōng couldn’t have come at a worse time. Wan Chong Jin, ever cagey and sharp as a wolf, has an uncanny ability to sense weakness, and he doesn’t tolerate it. Taking a deep breath, Ryan buries his frustration and steels himself.
The servant leads him to the garden pavilion, where his wàigōng sits at a tea table overlooking a rockery that slopes down to the koi pond. With his still posture and austere demeanor, Wan Chong Jin could easily be mistaken for one of the wooden carvings tucked into the greenery.
Age has taken its toll. The once-commanding figure from Ryan’s childhood is now thin and frail, but his mind remains razor-sharp. This is the man who taught Ryan everything he knows about finance and strategy. It’s time for him to step aside and enjoy his retirement.
The table is set with Jingdezhen porcelain and jade-handled utensils, signaling that Ryan isn’t the only guest.
“Wàigōng,” Ryan greets him, bowing slightly before taking his seat.
Wan Chong Jin’s shrewd eyes scan his grandson, taking in the tension in his jaw and the dark circles under his eyes. He gestures for Ryan to sit.
“Weren’t you supposed to return to the USA?”
“I adjusted my schedule to stay,” Ryan replies evenly. “This way, I can celebrate your birthday with you. Mother is sending over the coffee you like.”
The excuse is thin, but Wan Chong Jin doesn’t press the matter, giving only a faint nod of approval.
“Your Uncle Song will be arriving shortly,” his wàigōng says, setting down his teacup. “With his daughter.”
Ryan nods, his expression carefully neutral. Song Li Jun is one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the country. The “Uncle” title is purely honorary, a sign of respect for his wàigōng’s longstanding alliance with Song’s family.
What it boils down to is the line of people lining up to kiss Song Li Jun’s ass was longer than the great wall and the Wan family gets to pucker up first.
Right now, Ryan couldn’t afford to give offense, so there is no way to avoid the meeting. He can only hope the daughter didn’t show up. He wasn’t interested in catering to a vapid, spoiled heiress.
His luck holds. Song Li Jun arrives alone, and the servants discreetly remove the extra place setting. The conversation unfolds predictably—a homage to Song’s ego peppered with pointed compliments about Ryan’s capabilities.
Ryan listens with polite composure, but his thoughts remain elsewhere. This meeting only strengthens his resolve. Securing his wàigōng’s company and finalizing the merger is the only way forward. Power is the shield he needs to protect what is his and command the respect he deserves.
This time next year, Ryan resolves as he sips his tea, it will be the Song family currying for my favor.
***
Kang pours a bottle of Baijiu over a grave, the memorial photo of a soldier stares back at him. The date on the stone is just over a year ago. He bows deeply to his comrade.
“I failed, but I won’t give up on finding the man responsible for both of your deaths.”
His gaze shifts to the headstone beside them, where a young woman’s name is etched. The date of her death is only a week before the soldier’s. He pays his respects.
“You said you couldn’t live without her,” Kang says wearily, “I guess you were right.”
Kang turns away, but his shadow lingers on the grave as the sun sets.
***
Hangzhou, China – October 11th, – 9:00 AM
Man Zhu Bai opens the door to Hailee’s apartment, quickly scanning the area before stepping aside to let them in. The apartment is a small one-bedroom with an open kitchen and living room. Hailee’s uncluttered, feminine style gives the space a cozy, inviting atmosphere.
Anna settles on the couch while Hailee prepares tea. The trip from the hospital had been uneventful, but neither of them had slept well the night before, leaving them both worn out.
Anna wanted to get the questioning over with, so she agreed to Man Zhu Bai’s offer to pick them up. The sooner she could put the situation behind her, the better.
The door knocks, and Man Zhu Bai isn’t happy but isn’t surprised when Kang is on the other side. Like Man Zhu Bai, Kang takes a moment to assess the space.
“Is this a good time?” He directs his question toward Hailee, ignoring the detective’s presence. It isn’t worth getting into a pissing match in front of the woman. Anna and her sister should be given a sense of security.
“Come on in.” Hailee invites, and Man Zhu Bai steps aside.
Kang goes directly to the couch, taking the space next to Anna. Anna scoots as far away as she can without being blatantly rude. Her attitude is still strong, he notes, which is good because this next part isn’t going to be easy.
Hailee brings Anna a cup of water, along with her medications and a cold pack for her shoulder. She hasn’t had this many people in her tiny space before. She isn’t sure what the proper behavior is when the police are there to question you, but she figures it is better to be over-polite than under. She returns to the kitchen to pour the tea.
Man Zhu Bai pulls a stool over from the breakfast bar leaving the more comfortable chair for Hailee. He knows the past couple of days have been difficult for her, he doesn’t need the tea, but he can tell it is her way of dealing with her nervousness. She serves the tea and settles into the chair. With the hospitality rituals complete, it’s time to get down to business. He is interested to see what Kang's questioning will reveal about the ASB’s case.
Kang pulls out his phone, opens a recording app, and begins with the formalities—names, time, and date. He asks for Hailee to act as an interpreter, the expressionless voices of computer translations are not ideal during an interrogation. A familiar voice will subconsciously influence Anna’s willingness to answer truthfully as well.
He asks for everyone’s consent to record the conversation. Hailee and Man Zhu Bai quickly agree, and Anna nods her acknowledgment.
Kang stares at Anna, waiting for it to click, but she only stares back at him with an annoyed and impatient expression. He rubs his eyes with his hands, he can already feel a headache forming.
Anna looks at her sister for help. Hailee repeats Kang’s request. “Permission to RECORD this conversation.”
The lightbulb clicks, and Anna pushes down a wave of embarrassment at her brain lapse. She leans over so the phone can clearly pick up her “Yes.”
Anna has to give Kang the first point for of today’s round, but since she didn’t sleep last night, she’s giving herself leeway for being a bit slow on the uptake.
Kang eases into the questioning by showing her photos of the two men who kidnapped her.
“Do you know these two men?”
“Hard to forget,” Anna mutters dryly.
“BEFORE you arrived in Hangzhou?” Kang clarifies. He can tell she is taking her nerves out on him. He’s happy to let her use him as a target.
“No,” Anna answers, without hesitation he notes. He observes her face for any signs of dissembling. She only appears impatient to be done.
He places a photo of Cao Niu Ju on the table.
“What about her?”
Anna shakes her head. Hailee prompts her, “Out loud.”
“We were strangers,” Anna says. Kang can hear frustration creeping into her voice. It seems he has struck a nerve.
“What’s your relationship with the two men? Why did you meet them in the bathroom?” He circles back to his original line of questioning.
“I told you, I didn’t know them,” Anna repeats, growing defensive. “I didn’t even see them until they barged in.”
He can see her temper flaring up. The harder he pushes her now, the sooner he can remove her as a suspect. Kang disregards any sympathy and presses further. “This will go easier if you tell the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth!”
The sister glares at him, unhappy he is getting Anna worked up. Still, she does the translations— an inherent rule follower. He can tell she softens his words, but it doesn’t matter. Anna is so focused on him she understands the underlying tone.
Kang opens a file on his phone, showing footage from her rescue at the airport. He points to the figures of Skater Boy stopping the security guard and the Jock behind him. He waits for her reply.
“I never noticed them,” Anna claims. “If you couldn’t tell, I was a little busy at the time.”
Kang tests her. “What did he say to you?”
“Nothing,” Anna responds quickly. “He didn’t even speak English.”
Kang raises an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t talk to him?”
Her temper flares at his underlying accusation. Her eyes flash and her nostrils widen. The more emotional she is the harder it will be to conceal anything. However instead of taking the bait, she takes a steadying breath.
“I didn’t. The security guard was getting in the way, and the guy didn’t speak English, so he must’ve said something to him in Mandarin to make him back off.” Anna holds his gaze, the expression written on her face clearly telling him she is onto his game.
“Why did they follow you to the bathroom?” Kang continues, his tone cool.
She answers his question in a blasé tone, “They didn’t follow me. I was in the stall. They didn’t even know I was there.”
“A witness said there were drugs—pills and needles. Were you the buyer or the seller?”
Hailee translates with a noticeable edge to her voice. She doesn’t like it when he questions Anna’s integrity. He can tell the sisters are close, an insult to one is an insult to the other.
“Since you’re a cop, you might’ve gotten a clue from the scars on my chest,” she looks at him pointedly, “that everyone was staring at. I had a heart transplant. I take immunosuppressants and a laundry list of other medications.”
Kang was surprised to learn the full extent of her surgery. He had known it was serious, but finding out her heart had been completely replaced was more than he had anticipated. Her resiliency continues to impress him, but he doesn’t relent. “What about the needles?”
“The assholes drugged us,” Anna says bluntly.
“Then why are you fine, and the other girl is still unconscious in the ICU?”
Kang can see his words are a direct hit, she winces as if he physically struck her.
Anna’s heart twists at the mention of the unconscious young woman. She hasn’t been far from her mind since Anna woke up in the hospital. Unfortunately, HIPPA or PIPL, whatever letters they use here, prevented the doctors and nurses from telling her anything.
She wonders if he’ll be more forthcoming. She puts her attitude aside and asks softly, “Can you tell me her name…please?”
Kang stares at Anna for a minute, she doesn’t think he’ll answer, but then he responds, “Cao Niu Ju.”
“Thank you,” Anna replies, grateful to finally have a name to call her. “Is she ok?”
This time he doesn’t answer. Looks like they are playing a new game, tit for tat. Anna figures it is her turn. Fine, if it will get him out there looking for the criminals instead of wasting time on her she’ll cooperate.
“My condition was congenital, so I spent a lot of time in the hospital and had frequent surgeries. My tolerance for opioids is higher than normal.” She explains, “Cao Niu Ju had an allergic reaction to whatever drug they used.”
This is usually the part when people bombard Anna with a million questions about her surgery, but he doesn’t. He simply says, “She is still unconscious, but the doctors are optimistic.”
He continues interrogating her, asking pointed questions about her experience from the airport to the container. Her sister’s translations, like subtitles on the television, becomes less noticeable as they get into a rhythm. The nice cop, Detective Man peppers in a few questions here and there but mostly listens.
Anna knows she shouldn’t have given him a hard time at the beginning, but as soon as Kang walked through the door it felt like she was back at that house. Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and she was too tired and sore to run.
When he sat down beside her on the couch, she could remember what it felt like when he was on top of her. His chest— hard and unyielding, his scent like a cold winter morning, sharp and clean. Different from the first greasy thug, but the same feeling of being trapped and helpless.
Anna was used to being powerless against her heart condition, but her enemy had always been death. Death was a cold and ruthless opponent, but a worthy one.
What she went through in that house, the life that was awaiting the girls in the container - it is degradation, at the mercy of scum. An existence like that is a much crueler fate.
She owes Kang a lot for saving her, even if she isn’t a fan of his method. She is taken out of her reverie by his clipped tone as he repeats a question.
“Did you see anyone at the cargo yard?”
Anna refocuses, “The men who brought me to the house.”
Kang pulls out a series of photos. Anna examines them closely and then points to one.
“Neck tattoo, definitely. The others, I’m not sure.” It’s a bit hard to distinguish features when you are fighting for your life she thinks, but keeps the snarky attitude to herself this time.
“Think back. Did you hear or see anyone that stands out?” he asks the same question using different words.
Anna mentally replays the events of the ride to Wu’s house. A memory surfaces, but she dismisses it. It was probably a hallucination fueled by desperation at the time.
“Nothing,” she says flatly.
Man Zhu Bai had stayed quiet for most of the questioning. He understood Kang’s tough approach with Anna—he would have done the same if he were in charge, but it was time for a little good cop.
Anna’s face was an open book; she had clearly thought of something but was holding back. People often withhold information during questioning for one of two reasons: they fear it might incriminate themselves or someone else, or they’re worried it could steer the investigation in an unwelcome direction."
“Even if you think it’s nothing, the smallest detail could be important.” Man Zhu Bai says suspecting it was the latter. The sisters are the victims and Anna doesn’t know anyone else in the country.
Kang notices the conflict in Anna’s expression. It’s better not to let her think too much, but he doesn’t want her to get defensive again.
“Tell us,” he says, in a tone of gentle authority.
“It’s nothing,” Anna admits. “There was a guy I thought I saw, but it can’t be him.”
“Tell us anyway,” Kang prods.
“Ryan Anderson, my patient in the airport video.”
Kang and Man Zhu Bai can tell she’s reluctant to get someone involved with the police.
“Even if it’s not him, something about the guy you saw was probably similar.” Man Zhu Bai urges her to tell them what she remembers.
Anna closes her eyes and thinks back.
The bang of the container door as it closes, the clang of chains echoing as she is dragged away. No matter how hard she fights she can’t get away. She’s restrained and thrown into a car.
It drives past endless rows of colorful containers, a malicious wall of building blocks. Near the exit, another car drives in with the back window rolled down. Anna recognizes Ryan. She bangs on the window.
“Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!” she screams. He never looks up and the car passes by.
Kang and Man Zhu Bai both listen intently, their expressions unreadable, but the wheels are turning in both of their heads.
“Tell us what you know about Ryan Anderson,” Kang says.
Anna is too tired to point out how improbable it is that Ryan is involved. He was supposed to be on a plane when it happened. It seems like a waste of time, but she recounts everything she can remember about their conversation at the airport.
Kang notices Anna’s eyes struggling to focus, and she’s gradually leaning more and more heavily into the sofa. Her fingers tremble slightly. There are more questions, but they can wait.
Turning off the recorder, Kang says, “Thank you for your time.”
The interrogation is over.
Hailee gets up stiffly from the chair. Her back aches from sitting on the edge the whole time. The mental strain of translating every word between Anna and Kang had consumed all her focus, leaving no room to process everything being said.
It’s only now when it is over that the words she spoke are sinking in. Before it was only conjecture. Hearing what Anna went through from her own lips made it horrifyingly real.
Hailee leads Man Zhu Bai and Kang to the door. Even though she should be grateful for their help, she is glad it is over. After the door closes, she turns back to Anna, “You okay?”
Anna doesn’t even lift her head, “My brain is done. Where do I sleep?”
Before Hailee can answer, Anna lays down on the couch, her body too heavy with exhaustion to remain upright. Asleep seconds later, Hailee adjusts Anna’s position, putting her legs up on the sofa and adding a pillow under her head. Hailee grabs the blanket from her bed and tucks it around her sister.
Outside the building, Kang and Man Zhu Bai make their respective phone calls.
“Get me everything you have on Ryan Anderson, American national, he may or may not currently be in Hangzhou,” Kang commands.
Beside him, Man Zhu Bai gives his orders, “Beef up patrols around the address I’m texting you.”
***
A security guard stands outside the hospital room door. Kang flashes his badge, waiting for the guard’s nod before stepping inside the stark, silent room. No flowers, no signs of visitors—only the steady beeps of machines to keep Wu Bambang company.
Kang approaches the bed. Wu reluctantly opens his eyes and Kang holds up a photo of Ryan close to his face.
“Is this your boss?” Kang’s voice is flat and emotionless.
Wu’s eyes widen in recognition, but his lips press into a thin, resolute line.
“That’s what I thought,” Kang mutters with quiet satisfaction.
***
A few hours later, Kang stands before the chief of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau, handing over a neatly compiled file. The chief flips open the folder, the first page revealing Ryan Anderson’s American passport. The second page shows a Chinese passport bearing the same name and photo.
“Dual citizenship has been prohibited since the ’80s,” the chief remarks, his gaze settling on Kang. While it’s a minor infraction in the broader context, it speaks volumes—proof of Anderson’s willingness to flout the law and his lack of loyalty.
“His father is former diplomat Charles Anderson. His mother is Wan Chang Yin, the manufacturing magnate’s daughter,” Kang replies.
“Politics and money,” the chief frowns with distaste. “What evidence do you have?”
“A witness—an American tourist—can place him at the container yard,” Kang offers. He knows it’s insufficient, especially given Anderson’s powerful family and connections. Without an airtight case, pursuing Anderson directly would be a futile effort. It would also give him time to cover his tracks and fortify his defenses.
No surprise, the chief discards the idea. “It’d never hold up. What else?”
“He has the mean and ability, but the evidence is all circumstantial,” Kang states bluntly. Wu isn’t talking, and Anna’s testimony, along with his instincts, isn’t enough to bring to the prosecutor’s office.
The chief flips through the file again before closing it with a sharp snap. “I’ll pass it to a team for further investigation.” He studies Kang’s face for any sign of protest, then continues, “A week of operational rest. Decompress. Then I’ll assign you something new. Dismissed.”
Kang nods respectfully but doesn’t move. The debriefing went as expected, but he isn’t satisfied with the result. The chief waits, watching him.
After a long pause, Kang breaks the silence. “It’s my case. Based on how this organization operates, there’s a high probability they have an insider.” He knows the chief shares the same suspicions, based on the reports he’s been sending, but this is the first time it’s been said aloud. A traitor in their midst would be a slap to the chief’s face, a direct insult to the loyalty and honor he demands from his agents.
“This case is too big for one person,” the chief says, his lack of argument indicating his agreement with Kang’s assessment. After the fiasco, taking the criminals down from the inside is no longer an option. They can only send a team headfirst into battle.
“Are you willing to lead the team?” the chief asks, his tone pointed.
Kang doesn’t respond, his impassive expression conceals the storm brewing inside. There’s no way to work the case alone from the shadows, but a direct confrontation with organized crime is dangerous. The police are always at a disadvantage, their hands tied by the very laws they’ve sworn to uphold. Not everyone survives.
The chief’s disappointment flickers briefly, though his voice remains steady. “Didn’t think so. Dismissed.”
This time, Kang leaves.
***
Ryan opens the door to his wàigōng’s elegant study. The room exudes a quiet authority, from the unfinished chess game waiting on a side table to the bookshelves lined with volumes on finance and the classics every Ivy League scholar is expected to know. At its center stands an antique desk, a symbol of the empire the generations of family heads have built and preserved.
He settles into the high-backed chair behind the desk, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter stashed in the bottom drawer. The amber liquid burns as he downs it in one go, the sharp heat dulling the edge of a chaotic day. He pours another, swirling it slowly this time, as the knock he’s been waiting for sounds at the door.
Li strides in, his face a mask of unreadable calm. Behind him, two thugs step inside and flank the doorway, their presence silent but imposing.
Ryan sets his glass down and rises, his gaze scanning Li’s form. He tugs the hem of Li’s black button-down shirt free from his belt and lifts it, revealing the crudely sutured wound marring his torso. The stitches are raw, the flesh angry and red. Too close for comfort.
“How many stitches?” Ryan asks, voice low.
“Eight,” Li replies without flinching.
Ryan lets the shirt drop, his hand resting on Li’s shoulder. For a moment, his composure cracks. Li is more than a subordinate—he’s family, the closest thing Ryan has to a brother since they were kids.
“Another reason to kill those pig bastards,” Ryan murmurs, his tone venomous. “No one is allowed to hurt you.”
The tension in the room shifts. The thugs, rigid until now, relax slightly. But Li’s body tenses, anticipating the inevitable.
“Except me,” Ryan adds with a dark smirk, delivering a sharp jab to Li’s torso—carefully avoiding the wound. Li doubles over slightly, bowing as if in submission. Ryan pats his head, a brotherly gesture laced with mock comfort.
Bending closer, Ryan whispers, his voice a mix of affection and menace. “Little brother, you know how much it hurts me to punish you.”
Li straightens, standing firm as the two thugs grab his arms to steady him. Ryan’s voice hardens, laced with fury.
“You failed,” he hisses, his fist driving into Li’s side with calculated force. “Wu—greedy, stupid Wu—is still alive. And you let an undercover agent into my business.”
A kick to just below Li’s knee buckles it, forcing him down. Ryan’s hook punch snaps Li’s head back, leaving blood trickling from his mouth. He grips the back of Li’s neck, forcing him to meet his gaze.
“Why do you make me do this to you?” Ryan’s voice cracks ever so slightly, the anguish in his eyes contradicting the violence of his actions.
For a moment, the room is silent except for Li’s ragged breathing. Ryan’s shoulders slump, the adrenaline ebbing away to leave behind an aching exhaustion.