Chapter 82: Hadina’s Intentions

Unexpectedly, that girl was so pitiful. Liu Yunfei wondered if his words that day had been too harsh. At the time, she hadn't seemed to mind, but he hoped he hadn't hurt her self-esteem.

He emptied his pockets, gathering together two thousand euros and over a thousand dollars—just the pocket money he carried, since he usually didn't need to bring cash at all. He handed it all to the elderly woman.

A handful of colorful bills—the old lady had never seen such money before. She took out a small notebook to record names. "Young man, how much would this be in local currency? And what's your name? Donations over fifty are recorded."

"It should be over twenty thousand yuan. I don't have any more cash on me; if it's not enough, just come find me again," Liu Yunfei said, thinking it might embarrass them to ask for more later. He added, "I'm quite busy these days, but I'll visit Old Dong in a few days and donate more. Let him know, and don't worry about the treatment expenses; I'll cover it."

The women grew increasingly fond of this young man—the thick brows, bright eyes, and a face like a benevolent Bodhisattva. He was a philanthropist, indeed. They gave him a thumbs-up. "What's your name? We'll record it."

"No need for a name; I'll tell you later," Liu Yunfei replied, uncertain whether to use Awashid or Liu Yunfei.

"Such a good person—donating so much without leaving his name. There aren't many living Lei Fengs like you nowadays, especially from Xinjiang. Young man, do you have a girlfriend? Interested in finding one here in Huangjiang? Old Dong's daughter is in college and hasn't dated yet..." The old lady was lively, immediately recalling his earlier interest in Old Dong's daughter.

"Oh, thank you, but I already have a girlfriend. That's all for now; I have things to do and will visit him in a few days." Liu Yunfei felt a bit embarrassed. It was getting late, and the mention of a girlfriend made him think of Park Min-ji.

"He's tall, handsome, and wealthy—don't try to matchmake him. Let's go." Another old lady smiled, hugged the donation box, and waved as she left.

These women were enthusiastic, happy as if the money were going into their own pockets. On his way to New York, Liu Yunfei thought to himself: he had plenty of money, and with a little effort, money flowed endlessly. He wasn't a miser. Why not set up a charitable foundation? His mother had nothing much to do; she could travel across the country, helping impoverished children and those unable to afford medical care. Helping others brought happiness. He made up his mind to discuss it with his parents.

By the time he arrived in New York, dawn was breaking. Clearly, this detour had cost him time. He stood below the familiar buildings of New York University; the woods were still lush, the classical architecture pleasing as ever—but the beloved woman was nowhere to be found. "Min-ji, Min-ji." The door was open. The small room, once turned upside down by CIA agents, had been tidied up by Park Min-ji, but now it was so clean that even her daily belongings were gone. Opening the wardrobe, not a single piece of clothing remained. Her big suitcase was gone too. He remembered her joking: If you ever make me angry, I'll just take this suitcase and you'll never find me.

On the desk before the bed, her computer was gone. Only a few sheets of paper remained.

"Yunfei, I've left. Don't look for me, and don't blame yourself. I don't resent you, nor is this why I left. If I say I've encountered a curse, I don't know if you'll laugh at me. Honestly, I don't believe it myself, but the curse has predicted accurately twice, and I have no choice but to believe. Recently, the likelihood of its fulfillment has grown. I truly cannot afford to lose you. I'd rather leave than let you suffer even the slightest harm. Perhaps love must endure separation and death to prove its sincerity; happiness comes only after hardship, making it all the more precious. You know me—wherever I am, I'll live well, except for missing you. I believe in tomorrow; believe me, I won't give up. One day, I'll appear before you again. Please don't look for me, or I'll only go farther away. Also, could you help me with something? Perhaps I don't need to be so polite, since you're my little Yunfei, my little Yunfei. Please submit the attached leave-of-absence application to Professor Carter after the semester begins. Go, little Yunfei, wipe your tears; at least my heart will always be with you."

Liu Yunfei saw clear traces of dried tears on the letter. Park Min-ji had gone—she had truly left. She was mistaken, though; Liu Yunfei hadn't cried. It all felt like a dream. He wanted to hold her hand and ask loudly: Where are you going? For how long? He was full of questions. If it were anyone else, most would think this was just an excuse to leave, but in the past month, Liu Yunfei had encountered too many strange events; remembering Park Min-ji's evasiveness, he believed her.

Lighting a cigarette, he closed his eyes, recalling how within a few hours, two women he loved had left him.

Should he look for her? Liu Yunfei wrestled with his thoughts. If he asked Belgrade for help, with their ability to check IDs and credit cards, they could find Park Min-ji in ten minutes. But she had asked him not to search for her; maybe she needed time. Why disturb her? Yet, in a strange place, could she run into trouble or danger? Sitting at the desk, Liu Yunfei felt that unless he resolved the curse troubling Park Min-ji, finding her would be pointless. Perhaps she was safer without him by her side. He needed to deal with the Temple of the Sun first, so Park Min-ji could live in peace, and then he would have time to search for her.

He looked at the leave-of-absence application. Park Min-ji must have wanted a proper rest—a year's leave. He placed the two sheets in the jade scroll. Raising his head, he stubbed out his cigarette, grinding it into the floor as if he held a grudge against it. "Perhaps everyone is giving me time to destroy you, Temple of the Sun. I'm coming."

Liu Yunfei had a plan. He decided to consult with the old prince, so instead of returning to Florence, he went to Riyadh, calling ahead to arrange a meeting at the Four Seasons Hotel—likely the most secure place.

"Yunfei, you came to see me so urgently—what's the matter?" The old prince was as composed as ever.

"I have a brand-new plan. I can't keep playing the protector. The semester is about to begin; I need to uncover their purpose and catch them all in one net." Liu Yunfei said this, gripping his wine glass tightly, as if it were Hardy's throat.

"Oh? Tell me," the old prince was interested.

"They want to capture Owali, right? I think they're getting desperate. Let me disguise myself as Owali and let them capture me by accident, so we can see what their plot really is."

"Good idea, but Yunfei, that would be dangerous for you," the old prince said, showing a hint of concern.

"I'm not afraid—not of heaven or earth, only of shameless scoundrels who change their faces," Liu Yunfei replied.

"We've actually guessed some of their plot. Recently, we've been very active at home. They plan to target the upcoming OPEC summit in Riyadh. All the heads of state—presidents of America and Russia, prime ministers, foreign ministers, will be there. This is the grandest meeting since OPEC was founded, to discuss the global oil crisis. We know they want to launch attacks, bombings, or kidnappings on the summit day—it's their specialty. They want to shock the world."

Liu Yunfei nodded thoughtfully. "So what will you do? Why not arrest them beforehand?"

"We've arrested many, but they're all misled followers. The real core figures have vanished. But we're not worried; we've deployed many military police and gifted experts to protect the OPEC summit. The CIA, MI6, Russia's security service—they've all sent many agents and specialists. Of course, God will protect us too," the old prince said, proud of the international support. Yet Liu Yunfei was unimpressed. If a nation couldn't guarantee its own security without outside help, it was rather embarrassing. But he was intrigued by the so-called gifted experts.

"Your gifted experts—what kind of abilities?" Liu Yunfei asked.

"You know—the Guardians of the Holy Temple. I don't know their exact powers, mostly combat and defense."

"You said there were only twelve, right?" Liu Yunfei felt twelve was too few to protect so many dignitaries.

"Yes, they're all deployed, mainly to protect the presidents. The rest is up to the agents."

"But I don't think their aim is just to disrupt OPEC. Why would they want to kidnap Owali? What's the connection?" Liu Yunfei had been pondering this.

"I find it strange too. If they want a sensation, the presidents are more important than Owali. Maybe they want to assassinate the old king in advance, then announce Owali as successor on summit day?" The old prince's imagination was vivid.

"That's possible, but even if they succeed, there's still the crown prince—Owali wouldn't inherit. Never mind, let's stick to my plan. We must uncover their plot before August 26, before the summit starts. I need to get back for the new semester."

"My dear Yunfei, why rush to school? If you want a diploma, I can get you a professor's certificate at Riyadh University," the old prince joked.

"... Apparently, the old prince has connections for fake diplomas, but Riyadh University is hardly impressive."