Chapter Sixty-One: Scavengers from Africa

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After safely returning to solid ground, the old prince finally felt the earth beneath him—a happiness beyond words. Yet his legs gave out, and he collapsed into the motherly embrace of the land. Owari, however, was fearless as a newborn calf and insisted on dragging Liu Yunfei for another free aerial tour. “You brat! Fly, will you? I’ll knock you out!” Liu Yunfei delivered a flurry of blows.

Liu Yunfei assumed those agents and military police were still at the farm, so he landed on the elevated highway not far off, intending to walk with them to the farm. But with the useless old prince in such a state, he had no choice but to carry the old man, especially since his phone had been taken by Belgrade.

The farm was now brightly lit, police cars everywhere. Word had spread that the prince had been rescued, and Belgrade hurried out to meet them. “Old friend, are you alright?” Seeing Liu Yunfei carrying the prince, he feared the old man was injured. “Put me in the car—I need to lie down,” the prince said weakly.

The luxurious cavalcade from the Knight’s Castle had arrived. Once the prince was laid flat in the backseat of a Bentley, his color improved slightly. “There’s a traitor among us,” he said immediately, evidently having pondered this ever since his capture.

“I feel the same. You’ve had a shock—rest tonight, and we’ll discuss it tomorrow,” Liu Yunfei replied, having sensed the same.

On the way back, Liu Yunfei rested against the plush seat, eyes closed, his mind turning: Who could the traitor be? Yu Qing? For reasons unknown, she was the first to come to mind. From the depths of his heart, Liu Yunfei did not wish to suspect her and even blamed himself for doubting her again after deciding to trust her completely. Yet, who else? Those present at that dinner were few. The prince could be ruled out, as could Owari—though he once believed in the Temple of the Sun and still isn’t entirely convinced that Hardy’s faction was behind his kidnapping, if he were the traitor, he’d have had countless chances to escape and wouldn’t risk such a dangerous abduction. That left only Yu Qing and Ram. The traitor was almost certainly one of them.

Why did the kidnappers seem to know so quickly that he was coming to rescue the prince? If so, there was only one possibility: Yu Qing, since Ram hadn’t joined them for dinner. But could the kidnappers really have known in advance that he was coming?

No—there’s another possibility. If the butler or servants had been bribed and a bug planted in the dining room, the kidnappers could have received word. And if an undercover agent followed him and Yu Qing to the restaurant, it would explain how the kidnappers knew in advance. Yes, that must be it.

But then Liu Yunfei thought: What if it really is Yu Qing? If that mysterious text had arrived just a bit later, he would have revealed his secret to her—perhaps even told her he was from Huangjiang, that his name was Liu Yunfei. Wouldn’t that put his parents in danger? He couldn’t divulge that secret yet. But who sent the mysterious text?

Liu Yunfei took out his phone and dialed that number again—still switched off. Thinking the mysterious sender wanted to keep their identity hidden, he sent a text: “Thank you, friend. May Allah bless you.” If the recipient turned their phone on, they’d receive it immediately.

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Liu Yunfei let his thoughts wander, feeling increasingly muddled, and finally drifted into a light sleep. About an hour later, the car stopped at the Knight’s Castle—it was the dead of night. Yu Qing and Ram were still awake, waiting anxiously in the hall, afraid to call Liu Yunfei lest they interrupt his rescue.

When they saw Liu Yunfei step out of the car, his appearance was so alarming that both women couldn’t contain their tears, rushing into his arms, sobbing. He held them both, gently stroking their backs to comfort them. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m tough—I won’t die.”

“Don’t say such things—you won’t die,” Yu Qing choked out.

Seeing Yu Qing’s tear-streaked face, the crystalline drops shining on her cheeks as if revealing her heart, Liu Yunfei felt deeply ashamed. This woman worried for him, wept for him, and yet he had just been doubting her—she was the first he suspected. When did he become so callous and suspicious? He said no more, only held them tightly.

Ram, the silly girl, suddenly giggled through her tears.

“What are you laughing at, you silly girl?” Liu Yunfei asked, bewildered. Yu Qing looked up at him and smiled too, and even the servants around them grinned. “Everyone’s gone mad,” he thought.

Dragged by Ram to stand before the large mirror, Liu Yunfei laughed as well. Where was the handsome Prince Awahid? He looked like a ragpicker from Africa—hair wild and sticking up, face blackened save for his red lips, clothes and trousers full of holes, stained with grass and mud, unrecognizable, and his shoes were burned, melted onto his feet.

“You laugh, but you’d better go run me a bath.”

Liu Yunfei lay comfortably in the spacious tub. After the night’s ordeal, he felt exhausted and sent Yu Qing off to bed, preferring to lounge lazily in the bath, unwilling to move. So comfortable! He couldn’t help but hum contentedly like a satiated pig. “Those three old men probably aren’t so happy now. Who would have thought they’d be so formidable,” he muttered to himself.

It was his first encounter with someone possessing supernatural abilities. Two months ago, he would never have believed such an absurd topic, but since gaining his unusual body and powers, he’d come to accept it. Still, he hadn’t expected it to be so difficult. Their ability was only to discharge electricity; if today’s opponent had been even more powerful, the outcome might have been very different.

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Liu Yunfei had always thought himself strong, nearly invincible, but first there was Gao Renhou, and today these three elders. Though he hadn’t been hurt, he’d clearly lost, battered and defeated. Why?

Perhaps because he couldn’t release energy, couldn’t strike at a distance—every blow had to land directly. If the opponent found a way to prevent physical contact, his strength would be wasted on empty air, causing no damage.

Yet, a thousand years ago, his senior Sun Wukong didn’t seem to release any true energy either. In Journey to the West, it was always the golden staff sweeping through enemies—Sun Wukong’s staff could grow or shrink, compensating for his inability to attack from afar. But where could he find such a staff?

He could only follow Gao Renhou’s advice to gather loose energy particles and set them in motion. Yet, despite practicing the breathing method, he still couldn’t locate his dantian, let alone figure out how to channel the energy. Water flows, electricity flows; electrons are stationary in an insulator, much like the scattered energy particles in his body. Was it because his body hadn’t become an energy conductor, so the energy couldn’t flow?

This thought brought some insight, but then he hit another wall: how could he make his body a conductor?

Unable to find an answer, Liu Yunfei dried off, donned his pajamas, and left the bathroom. Yu Qing was already asleep, curled up like a little pig. As he approached the bed, he noticed the golden rose’s base on the bedside table—he wondered if Park Minji had received it, hoping it hadn’t been stolen.

Glancing at the clock, it was likely past ten in New York—Park Minji should have returned. He decided to call and check. From the light jade slip, he took the phone he’d bought back home, used exclusively to contact his family and Park Minji to avoid implicating them.

With the phone in hand, Liu Yunfei tiptoed to the door and opened it, only to find Ram, the silly girl, asleep on the floor, leaning against the door. As he opened it, she rolled in.

“You silly girl, eavesdropping again. Do you think your brother and sister would be up to anything tonight after such an exhausting day? What were you thinking?” Liu Yunfei quietly scolded her, tugging her ear and shutting the door.