Cangmang Asks the Way 1: Guardian of the Lamp

In the western suburbs of the southern city, there is a six-story residential building, a common sight in the 1990s, room 402.

The curtains were drawn, and only a table lamp was on. The room was so simply furnished that it seemed uninhabited, with only a map spread out on the table, a few inconspicuous black devices, and a faint sense of tension in the air, indicating that something was happening here.

Chen Mo put down his pen and glanced at the three people sitting around the simple folding table. He was in his early forties, with graying temples, but his eyes were as calm as a deep pool, always looking at people with a scrutinizing gaze.

"The situation is more complicated than reported. The robbery at the Nancheng branch appears to be an armed robbery, but there are at least three unusual aspects," Chen Mo said in a low voice.

Zhao Haichuan opened his notebook—this 38-year-old former criminal investigation expert habitually took notes by hand. He adjusted his glasses: "First, the timing. The robbers chose 9:30 a.m., which is precisely the time window when banks have finished receiving cash withdrawals for the morning but haven't yet started large-scale transfers, making the teller counters relatively quiet. This doesn't seem like a spur-of-the-moment decision."

"Second, the target," Su Mingyue continued, pointing to a certain area on the bank's floor plan on the map. "Based on the scene reconnaissance and the distribution of bloodstains, after the three criminals entered, they immediately controlled the security guards and dispersed the crowd. However, the leader with the shotgun and the criminal with the handgun showed clear signs of tentatively moving towards the vault and safe deposit box area. They seem to have some knowledge of the bank's internal structure, and their target may not be just the cash counters." This 28-year-old young woman had short, ear-length hair and bright, confident eyes.

Cang Liuqing sat quietly, her beige trench coat draped over the back of her chair. Before her lay a floor plan of the bank and several enlarged photos of the scene. She slowly began, “Third, the people. The coordination, the movements, the methods of controlling the hostages, even the instantaneous tactical adjustments they made when counterattacked…it was too ‘clean’ and too ‘effective.’ They didn’t seem like ordinary robbers; they seemed more like they had received some kind of training.”

Chen Mo nodded, tapping heavily on the location of the bank on the map: "At 3:47 PM today, three criminal suspects died 'accidentally' from poisoning while being escorted. One of the escorting police officers was unconscious, and two were poisoned. The sanitation worker who caused the incident had a clean background and showed no prior abnormalities."

The room fell silent.

"Silence them." Zhao Haichuan uttered two words.

"And it was a precise, ruthless, and reckless elimination," Su Mingyue added. "This means that what's behind them is far more important than three lives."

Chen Mo looked at Cang Liuqing: "Liuqing, your brother Cang Lifeng is at a critical juncture. He went to the bank that day to demand his unpaid wages, and was purely accidentally caught up in the chaos. But according to the on-site report and eyewitness accounts, he took the initiative to attack the assailant at the last moment and saved the pregnant woman. More importantly, more than one hostage mentioned in their statements afterward that something seemed to have fallen from the body of the knocked-down assailant and rolled near Cang Lifeng during the chaos."

"This suits Li Feng's character. He practices martial arts, and he has a chivalrous spirit in his bones." Cang Liuqing's calm voice carried a hint of pride.

"That's the problem." Chen Mo looked directly at her. "Our opponents are also assessing the situation: What did this migrant worker, who was accidentally caught up in the incident, see? Did he come into contact with the object that might have fallen? Is he a 'troublemaker' or a 'hazard' that needs to be eliminated?"

Cang Liuqing's fingers tightened slightly.

"Your mission," Chen Mo said seriously, "is to contact Cang Lifeng as a relative and accomplish two things: First, assess his condition and confirm whether he has inadvertently obtained any crucial information, especially regarding the item that may have been dropped; second, provide him with necessary safety information and protection. He is a civilian, but more importantly, he is a hero, and we must ensure his safety."

"Understood." Cang Liuqing nodded.

"Haichuan." Chen Mo turned to Zhao Haichuan. "As a criminal investigation expert from the provincial department, you will be involved in the municipal bureau's technical forensics. The focus will be on all physical evidence collected at the scene, especially any unconventional items—metal fragments, clothing fibers, special tools. According to the preliminary on-site investigation record, a 'circular perforated metal fragment,' numbered Evidence-047, was collected near where the shotgun-wielding assailant fell. I need you to personally confirm the details and condition of this item, and... whether it is still where it should be."

"Roger that, Captain Chen!"

"Mingyue, you're in charge of information monitoring. Three things: First, the recent activities of that reporter named Lin Wei and her newspaper; second, all informal communications and personnel anomalies within the Municipal Bureau, especially the Technical Section and the Evidence Preservation Department, regarding this case; third," Chen Mo paused, "...all background information on the delegation from 'East Asia Cultural Exchange Co., Ltd.' that will be entering the country next month, as well as their recent communications with people within the country, especially before and after the incident. I need to know the network of connections each of them has in Nancheng, especially their interactions with people in the financial and cultural systems."

Su Mingyue typed a command on the keyboard of the IBM desktop computer in front of her: "It's already underway. It mainly involves collecting publicly available information, conducting field investigations, and cross-referencing landline phone tapping records. So far, the delegation's background seems 'clean,' but their entry time is sensitive."

Chen Mo stood up, his gaze sweeping over the three men: "Remember, we are likely facing a professional foreign intelligence network. Their goal is definitely not as simple as robbing money. Robbery may be a cover; their true objective is to use the chaos to achieve some kind of verification or contact. Copper coins, safes, the sudden arrival of a cultural exchange delegation—behind these fragments, there must be a thread we haven't yet figured out."

"Until we find that line, everyone, remain silent and be careful."

Nancheng People's Hospital, inpatient building.

Cang Liuqing straightened her collar in front of the metal door of the elevator. The mirror reflected a calm face—short, ear-length hair, a light gray suit skirt, and black low-heeled shoes. She looked like an ordinary working woman who had come from out of town to visit her younger brother, only the sharp glint in her eyes revealing a different kind of charisma.

The elevator was stopped on the eighth floor. The corridor was quiet, with a strong smell of disinfectant.

A middle-aged man in a jacket with an ordinary appearance was reading a newspaper near the nurses' station. When he saw Cang Liuqing come out, their eyes met briefly, and he nodded almost imperceptibly.

The ward door was ajar.

Cang Liuqing pushed the door open and gently closed it behind her.

There were three beds in the room, but only Cang Lifeng was staying there. He was leaning against the rocking hospital bed, his left shoulder wrapped in thick gauze, his face pale, and he was resting with his eyes closed. Hearing a noise, he opened his eyes.

"Sister Liu Qing?" Cang Lifeng was taken aback for a moment, then struggled to sit up straight.

"Don't move." Cang Liuqing walked quickly to the bedside, her voice low. Her gaze swept rapidly across the room—the window, the ceiling, the bedside table, behind the television, finally settling on the bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. Within two seconds, she had completed a preliminary safety assessment.

"How could you..." Cang Lifeng didn't finish his sentence, but when he saw his sister's eyes, he suddenly understood something. It wasn't the simple heartache a sister should have for her injured brother, but a complex look that mixed concern, scrutiny, and extreme seriousness.

"I received a call and came to see you." Cang Liuqing sat down on a chair by the bed, took a thermos from her handbag, and handed it to Cang Lifeng naturally. "Have some water."

As she handed him the cup, her fingertips tapped Cang Lifeng's hand three times with lightning speed—this was a secret code they had agreed upon when they were children, meaning: something important is happening, be sure to cooperate.

Cang Lifeng took the cup, his heart skipping a beat. He knew his cousin too well; one of the youngest PhDs at Yenching University's Law School, she had participated in national-level legislative consultations. Her presence here was definitely not just a visit to someone in the hospital.

"How are you feeling? Are you conscious? Does the wound hurt? Has the medication affected your thinking?"

Cang Liuqing's three questions, seemingly out of concern, were actually the work of a professional intelligence officer confirming the status of the information source.

"It hurts, but my mind is clear," Cang Lifeng replied briefly, taking a sip of water. The warm water soothed his throat, and he felt his tense nerves relax slightly.

"Okay." Cang Liuqing nodded. "Now, I need you to help me recall some things. All the details about that day at the bank, from the moment you pushed open the door until you lost consciousness."

She paused, her voice even softer: "Don't consciously think about it. Relax and let the images surface on their own. What did you see? What did you hear? What did you smell? Anything that seems strange or illogical, even if it's just a fleeting feeling or a strange sensation lingering in a part of your body."

Cang Lifeng closed his eyes. Guided by his sister's steady voice, the hellish scene reappeared, but this time, it was no longer an image completely overwhelmed by fear and pain.

He described in fits and starts: the shrieking of shattered glass, the flash of a shotgun, the strange accent and incongruous look in the eyes of the thugs, the overly skilled coordination when escorting the hostages... When he mentioned that he was seriously injured and fell to the ground, his vision blurred and blacked out, Cang Liuqing's eyes suddenly focused.

"After you collapsed and before you lost consciousness, did you notice anything unusual in your field of vision or nearby?"

Cang Lifeng's brows were furrowed, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He seemed to be struggling against the excruciating pain and dizziness, trying to savor the last images before sinking into darkness. "There was... when I was half-lying down, about to pass out... out of the corner of my eye, I saw something... roll to a spot not far from my hand..."

"What is it? Describe it, the more specific the better," Cang Liuqing pressed on.

"Round...it seems...there's a square hole in the middle? Dark gold...not very shiny, like old copper...the edges...seem rough, with very fine engravings? I can't see clearly..."

"Do you remember the size? The thickness? The sound of it hitting the ground?"

"Not big... thicker than a copper coin... a sound?" Cang Lifeng tried hard to recall, "It seems... there was no sound? It slid down, rolled over... maybe there was, but I can't hear it..."

"Are there any patterns or words on it? Even just a faint outline?"

Cang Lifeng remained silent for a longer time, his breathing becoming somewhat rapid. Clearly, the memory had brought back the pain and chaos of that time. "Words?" he murmured, his eyes suddenly becoming unfocused, as if pierced by some touchpoint deep within his memory. "The edge... there seems to be a ring... very small... not Chinese characters... the strokes are very hard, square..."

He suddenly opened his eyes and looked at Cang Liuqing. In addition to confusion, there was also an indescribable sense of fear in his eyes: "It was that thing... When it rolled over, my heart... inexplicably 'thumped'. It wasn't fear... it was that feeling of 'this thing shouldn't be here,' 'I've seen it before'... It was very strange, very... heavy."

"It was so chaotic and painful at the time that I thought I was hallucinating that I was going to die."

"It's useful. Every detail, every feeling, is useful," Cang Liuqing affirmed, not pressing him further about his "familiarity." However, she had already firmly imprinted the keywords "dark gold, round and square holes, edge engravings, non-Chinese characters, evoking a strong sense of familiarity and heaviness" into her mind. She knew that in Cang Lifeng's current state, asking "where have I seen you before?" might trigger psychological defenses or confusion.

She changed the subject to a seemingly unrelated angle, asking, "Lifeng, do you have any memories of old objects or ancient coins from your childhood? For example, did your grandfather or father have a habit of collecting and playing with them?"

Cang Lifeng was taken aback, not expecting the topic to turn to this. He thought carefully for a moment, then shook his head: "Sister, you know, Grandpa was a farmer, and so was Dad. We were poor, we didn't have any collections... Oh, it seems... when I was seven or eight years old, I was playing a game of 'rolling coins' with the village kids, and mine broke, so I wanted to go home and find an old one."

His voice suddenly became somewhat ethereal, and his gaze drifted into the void, as if he were lost in a distant memory.

"I ran to Grandpa's little dark room where he stored odds and ends and searched around. I think... I saw Grandpa sitting alone on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding a copper coin in his hand, staring blankly at the sliver of light coming in through the window. His eyes... were very empty, and it looked like there were tears in them?"

Cang Liuqing's heartbeat quickened quietly, but he didn't show it on his face and just listened quietly.

"Grandpa seemed startled when he saw me barge in. He clenched the copper coin in his hand tightly, then quickly stuffed it into an old tin box next to him and slammed it shut," Cang Lifeng continued, speaking slowly, as if digging into a memory covered in dust. "His face was very serious; I'd never seen him so serious before. He pulled me aside, stared into my eyes, and said, 'Fengzi, you didn't see or hear anything today, and you're not allowed to tell anyone about this, understand? Not even your father or mother!'"

"I was terrified at the time and could only nod. Later... I think I never saw that iron box again, and I gradually forgot about it. Just now... for some reason, I suddenly remembered it." After Cang Lifeng finished speaking, he paused for a moment, then suddenly exclaimed, "That's right, Grandpa's copper coin looks a lot like the copper coin I saw at the bank."

Cang Liuqing's heart sank, as if gripped by an invisible hand. The hidden iron box from her childhood, the copper coin dropped in the bank, the sense of similarity across decades—these previously vague clues collided abruptly in her brother's offhand remark, sparking a chilling flame. An almost absurd yet incredibly clear thought exploded in her mind: this seemingly accidental bank robbery, this mysterious copper coin, might very well have some unknown, unfathomable connection to her family's past. But she instantly suppressed the turmoil in her eyes, her face maintaining its professional composure. Now was not the time to delve into family secrets, but to ensure her brother's absolute safety.

Her tone turned serious again: "First, regarding any vague recollection of items that might have fallen in the bank, and that childhood memory you just mentioned, from now on, do not utter a single word about it to anyone—remember, anyone, including returning reporters, concerned members of the public, and even certain leaders who come to 'show concern and offer condolences.' Forget about it completely unless I or someone you specifically trust asks about it."

From her words and eyes, Cang Lifeng sensed a weight far exceeding that of an ordinary criminal case. He nodded solemnly and said, "I understand. Sister, don't worry, I know what I'm doing."

"Secondly, your safety is now the top priority. In addition to cooperating with treatment, try not to leave the hospital and minimize contact with strangers. I will arrange for a reliable person to keep watch nearby. If you notice anything unusual, immediately pass it on to the emergency number I gave you through the nurses' station."

"Official business is over." Cang Liuqing stood up, reached out, and very lightly and quickly tucked the corner of the blanket back in. Her fingertips inadvertently brushed against the back of his uninjured right hand, which was icy cold but carried a slight, suppressed tremor.

"...Silly boy." She uttered the three words in a very low voice, quickly turning her face away, as if the tenderness just now was just an illusion. "Take good care of yourself and don't worry your family. I'll handle things over there."

She didn't say another word of comfort and turned to walk towards the door.

She stopped at the door and looked back.

Cang Lifeng had closed his eyes again, but his brows remained furrowed. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting alternating stripes of light and shadow on his pale face, like silent shackles or a code waiting to be deciphered.