Chapter Eight: The Messenger of Allah

After Henry left, Liu Yunfei didn’t dare reveal himself immediately, because two guards were standing right at the door. If he suddenly appeared, who knew what kind of commotion the old prince might cause? Liu Yunfei scanned the surroundings—this was a suite, and he was currently in the living room. It would be safer to wait until the old prince went into another room before showing himself. However, after a long wait, the old prince simply sat there, puffing away at his cigar. Liu Yunfei waited and waited, but time was running short—his parents would be home from work soon. Left with no choice, he flew to the prince’s ear and whispered in English, “Go to the bedroom.”

Startled, the old prince looked around but saw no one. Liu Yunfei had to repeat, “Don’t make a sound, go to the bedroom.”

The old prince looked around again, still seeing no one. Although perplexed, he figured he might as well go to the bedroom and see what tricks this invisible presence had in store. As soon as the old prince got up, Liu Yunfei hurriedly flew into the bedroom ahead of him, transformed back to his human form, and waited.

When the old prince entered, he found a bare-chested, dark-haired, yellow-skinned youth sitting there, smiling at him without a trace of hostility. “Hello, child. Was it you who called me just now? When did you come in? I didn’t even see you.”

“Yes, my name is Liu Yunfei. I’m Chinese. I’d like to help you,” Liu Yunfei replied.

“This place is dangerous, you should go back. Allah will protect you, dear child.” The old prince clearly didn’t believe Liu Yunfei could help him, and faced with a boy who appeared out of nowhere, who knew if this was a trick from the kidnappers?

“Allah will also protect you, my dear prince,” Liu Yunfei echoed the old prince’s tone, finding it a bit amusing. He wondered what all those girls dreaming of meeting a prince would think if they encountered such a one. Then he continued, “I know you don’t trust me, and it’s possible you think I was sent by them. Still, could you tell me what happened? I don’t suppose that would hurt?”

“The artificial island project is run by my company. Every building, every plot of land has already been sold, and next month, the first batch of settlers will move in. Originally, I was planning to come here by boat for a vacation. This afternoon, as we got close, I decided to come ashore for a look. Who could have guessed that as soon as I arrived, before I’d even disembarked, a gang of armed bandits stormed out from the island, separated me from my attendants, and took us all. I have no idea what’s become of my attendants, nor do I know who these people are or what they want.” The old prince, recalling the scene, was still visibly shaken.

“So it seems they were prepared, waiting for you on the island. There must be a traitor among your staff,” Liu Yunfei analyzed.

“There are over twenty people working on this boat. They only needed to bribe one of them,” the prince replied.

“Do you recognize any of these people? I saw an Arab man with a knife scar on his face leave by plane a short while ago,” Liu Yunfei said.

“Ah, it’s him. I didn’t see him, but now I know why they kidnapped me.” The old prince seemed to realize something. “His name is Hadi, he’s a member of the Temple of the Sun. Recently, they’ve been going long on crude oil in the international futures market, and they want to control the price movements by capturing me. Allah will punish this shameful infidel.”

Liu Yunfei understood the concepts of going long and short in the futures market—essentially, betting on prices to rise or fall. If you go long, the more prices rise, the more you profit; go short, and the more prices fall, the more you earn. But it seemed this old prince was not an ordinary person if he had the ability to influence international oil futures. “Prince… I’m sorry, I only heard Henry mention your name once earlier. Who exactly are you?”

The old prince chuckled, “My dear child, I am Salih bin Abdul, though my name is a bit long—you can call me Salih. I am the third son of the late King Fahd of Saudi Arabia. The current king, Abdullah bin Abdul, is my uncle. I founded the Royal Petroleum Company, which controls twenty-nine percent of Saudi oil production. If you add in the shares controlled by my brothers and cousins, together we control eighty-eight percent of my country’s output. Saudi Arabia is the largest oil producer in the Middle East. If they control me, they control oil production, and that would make them fortunes in the futures market. What’s more, I am also an OPEC member…” At this point, the old prince’s pride was apparent as he took out a cigar, offering one to Liu Yunfei. Liu Yunfei wasn’t used to cigars, but he had some Nanjing cigarettes in his jade slip, so he took one out and joined the prince for a smoke. Smokers are like that—watching others smoke always makes them crave one too. That’s one reason quitting is so hard, and relapses so common.

Liu Yunfei recognized OPEC from frequent mentions on the evening news, and his curiosity had once led him to research it online. OPEC, the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, is headquartered in Vienna. Its member countries collectively hold 191.1 billion tons of oil reserves, accounting for about seventy percent of the world’s total, with Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Iraq topping the list. OPEC’s main function is to coordinate among member states to ensure stable prices in the international market and secure steady revenue for its members, safeguarding both individual and shared interests.

Analyzing the current situation, Liu Yunfei realized it wasn’t just the old prince who was in trouble—over twenty of his attendants were unaccounted for, and the ship, owned by the prince, was also at risk of being taken away. His original plan to sneak the prince out quietly was now clearly unworkable, especially since the prince had discovered his secret. There was no choice but to confront the kidnappers head-on.

Liu Yunfei said to the old prince, “It looks like I’ll need to scout out how many of them there are, and see where your attendants are being held. Please, Your Highness, wait outside for me while I make some preparations.”

“Thank you, my child. Allah will aid you. Please be careful—they are all killers sent by Iblis, devils from the Quran who kill without blinking an eye,” the old prince replied, then left the bedroom.

Liu Yunfei recited an incantation, transformed into a flying insect, and slipped out through the crack beneath the door.

The old prince wasn’t so obedient, though. After waiting a while and seeing that Liu Yunfei didn’t reappear, he returned to the bedroom, only to find that the Chinese youth had vanished. The room was a completely sealed space, with only one door—no windows, no other exit.

“A miraculous Chinese youth… surely you are a messenger sent by Allah himself to save us faithful Muslims.”