Courtyard House: Home Alone

Sure enough, one of them caught up with Chen Gongshu from afar, while the other stayed across the street and sat in a different teahouse.

"They split up?" He smiled slightly, indicating they weren't all in the same group.

Only after Chen Gongshu's figure disappeared around the street corner did Lin Yifan withdraw his spiritual energy. The room was well-heated, and the fragrance of daffodils was cloyingly strong.

A ship's horn sounded outside the window as a cargo ship sailed down the Haihe River, its black smoke billowing from its chimneys standing out starkly against the hazy sky.

Two quarters before 5 PM, Chen Gongshu's voice came through the communicator, with a slight static: "Young Master, Xu Zheng has connected."

Four foreigners, from England, France, Germany, and the United States, were staying at the Lihua Hotel in the British Concession. They seemed to be fully prepared. The American, Smith, was offering equipment in exchange, but it was still unknown whether his equipment had arrived.

"Two hours later, change your mask and go to the Lihua Hotel where those foreigners are staying. Tell them you were sent by Old Master Tang, ask about the details, and arrange a time for the transaction. I'll go there beforehand to monitor them."

Chen Gongshu paused, seemingly considering his words: "Young master, Xu Zheng also mentioned something—of those four foreign devils, the German and the French have already met privately twice, the American Smith is acting alone, while the British are making connections everywhere, as if trying to broker something."

"Understood." Lin Yifan rewrap the scarf. "Whether they're human or ghost, I'll find out when I get there. I hope they follow the rules."

Also, tell Xu Zheng to immediately find a way to rent or buy a house in the concession, one with a yard. Contact me after it's done.

He disconnected the communication, changed into a navy blue suit, put on a custom-made wool coat, and clipped the communicator to his shirt collar. The person in the mirror instantly became a rich young master.

The wind from the Haihe River carried the smell of coal smoke. Lin Yifan hailed a rickshaw and headed leisurely towards the British Concession.

The driver was an old man in his fifties, but he was surprisingly strong. He pulled the rickshaw steadily and even managed to chat in the Tianjin dialect: "Young master, are you going to stay at the Lihua Hotel? There are many foreigners there, and it's been quite lively lately. I heard there's some kind of foreign merchants' association opening."

"Oh?" Lin Yifan followed up, "The old man is well-informed."

"For a cart puller, ears are his livelihood." The old man chuckled, revealing a gold-plated front tooth.

The Li Hua Hotel is a Victorian building with red brick walls and two Roman columns in the porch. Indian doormen in white uniforms eagerly open the glass doors.

Lin Yifan walked into the lobby and headed straight for the coffee shop on the left. He had already used his mental energy to scout the area before entering; ordering a coffee there would provide the best vantage point for observing the entire restaurant.

He ordered a cup of coffee and two plates of pastries, along with a newspaper, and chose a booth by the window to sit down.

Soon, his coffee, snacks, and newspaper arrived. He used the newspaper as cover to spread his mental energy outwards, his first step being to observe the situation around the hotel.

Before long, he found six testing sites around the hotel. By examining the evidence on their bodies, he discovered that four of the five testing sites belonged to the Japanese Special Higher Police, and the other two had no evidence, but judging from the tattoos on the back of their necks, they should be from the Black Dragon Society.

Damn it, these little devils are really persistent, daring to mess with 'Ghost's' drug deals. Looks like we need to teach them a lesson.

Next, he turned his attention to the interior of the hotel. Through observation and Tang Baolin's description of Smith and his companions, he discovered that Smith from the United States, John from England, Hans from Germany, and Pierre from France were all on the third floor, each occupying a suite.

Smith, an American, lived at the end of the corridor. His door was closed, the curtains were drawn, and there were three people inside, discussing something.

John's door was ajar, and the faint sounds of jazz music playing from a gramophone and a woman's laughter could be heard.

The German and French were huddled together in the next room, talking in hushed tones in German. Lin Yifan couldn't understand what they were saying, but judging from their tone, the conversation wasn't pleasant.

Then, he checked the surrounding rooms and found that the other rooms around them were also occupied by Japanese agents.

Four eavesdropping teams were listening into their room. He withdrew his mental energy, picked up his coffee, and took a sip. The coffee was bitter with a hint of caramel; it was authentic Blue Mountain coffee.

He looked around the café and realized that there were only three people in the café, including himself. The other two seemed to be a foreign couple, and they were sitting quite far away from him.

So he turned on the intercom and called out softly, "Uncle Chen, please answer if you hear me."

Less than three breaths later, Chen Gongshu's voice came through the earpiece: "Young Master, I'm here. What are your orders?"

"Where are you now? How much longer until we get to the hotel?" Lin Yifan asked.

"I'm already at the hotel entrance, I'll be going in right away."

Lin Yifan used his mental power to "see" and indeed "saw" Chen Gongshu getting off the rickshaw.

"Uncle Chen, after you enter the hotel, please book a room on the fourth floor first, and then contact me after you are in the room."

Chen Gongshu responded, and the sound of his footsteps could be heard through the communicator. Lin Yifan picked up his coffee cup, and using the rim as cover, extended his mental energy towards the doorway once more.

Chen Gongshu appeared in the porch. He had changed his mask and now looked like a forty-something accountant, wearing round-framed glasses and carrying a leather briefcase. The Indian doorman opened the door attentively, and Chen bowed slightly in thanks, his movements as natural as if he were a regular at such places.

The lobby was paved with mosaic marble tiles, and a crystal chandelier sliced ​​the light into tiny, fragmented spots. Chen Gongshu walked straight to the counter and tapped it three times with his fingers: "A room on the fourth floor facing the sea, something quiet."

The receptionist was a Chinese man in a suit, with a brass badge that read "Supervisor" pinned to his chest. He flipped through the roster, his smile as perfect as if he'd been measured: "What is your surname, sir?"

"My surname is Zhou, Zhou Mingde." Chen Gongshu took out a business card from his pocket. It was a fake identity that Xu Zheng had prepared in advance—the accountant of Tianjin Demao Money Shop.

"Mr. Zhou, room 412 on the fourth floor, the daily room rate is eight silver dollars, including breakfast." The supervisor took the silver dollar that Chen Gongshu handed him and pushed the key over. It was a brass key with an enamel pendant attached.

Chen Gongshu took the key and turned to walk towards the stairwell.

Lin Yifan put down his coffee cup and enveloped the hotel lobby with his mental energy. Sure enough, a man in a dark blue long robe got up from the sofa in the lounge area, pretending to straighten his clothes, and followed Chen Gongshu upstairs at a distance of about ten steps.

Lin Yifan used his mental power to lock onto the follower.

The man stopped on the third floor and turned into the restroom on the other side of the corridor. Chen Gongshu continued upwards, his steps steady. A moment later, the soft sound of a door opening and closing came from the fourth floor.