Wang Bide had a waiter bring over an enormous gilded tray, placed two decks of bridge cards on it, and personally carrying the tray, walked unhurriedly up to Hongdou, giving a Western-style bow: “I haven’t yet had the honor of learning this young lady’s name.”

Hongdou smiled. “My name is Yu Hongdou, a student at St. John’s University.” Now that he was closer, the smell of alcohol on Wang Bide was overpowering; she had no expertise in Western liquors and couldn’t identify which kind it was, only that it smelled unusually pungent.

Wang Bide tilted his face up and sighed with feeling, “Ah, St. John’s, ‘Light and Truth’—isn’t that your school motto?”

Hongdou lifted the corner of her mouth slightly. “That’s one of our mottos.”

Wang Bide made an exaggerated gesture. “If I may be so bold, that motto of your school is also my life’s pursuit—’Light and Truth,’ mm, how enticing that sounds.”

Though said in a playful, casual tone, it was different from his earlier drunken manner, his expression carrying a hint of solemnity.

But before Hongdou could respond, he changed the subject: “Miss Yu, are you ready? I’m about to start dealing.”

Hongdou straightened her back and nodded excitedly.

Wang Bide then turned around, instructed the waiter to start timing, and fanned the cards out on the tray, pinching the first card between two fingers for Hongdou to see.

Hongdou fixed her eyes on it, but before she could even signal she’d seen it, Wang Bide had already flipped the card face-down onto the tray and flashed the next one.

The order of the cards on the tray had been shuffled beforehand—whether the numbers were high or low, whether the suit was spades or hearts, there was no pattern to speak of.

To prevent cheating, Wang Bide also stipulated that guests couldn’t crowd close. Everyone stood off to the side, watching Wang Bide flip the cards at a dizzying speed—merely making out each card’s face was difficult enough, let alone memorizing the order and suits, which seemed nearly impossible. Everyone silently broke into a sweat on Hongdou’s behalf.

Wang Bide was clearly well-practiced at this game, and quickly flipped through several dozen cards within the allotted time. As the last card dropped back onto the tray, he smiled. “Miss Yu, it’s your turn.”

Hongdou steadied herself. From the tension, a fine layer of sweat had beaded on her forehead without her noticing. She closed her eyes—the cards’ faces were still vividly clear in her mind, but she knew this image would fade in an instant, and she needed to recite it back as quickly as possible. So, like beans pouring out of a bamboo tube, she rattled off rapid-fire: “Five of hearts, queen of diamonds…”

As she named each card, the waiter, guided by Wang Bide, flipped one over accordingly. Ten-some cards in a row, every single one correct.

Wang Bide’s manner remained quite relaxed—anyone of normal intelligence playing this game could easily recite the earlier cards; the difficulty lay in what came after, as the fresh images in one’s mind would grow blurry with the passage of time, growing more chaotic the further along one went.

He casually picked up a glass of brandy from the nearby drink tray and struck up conversation with an Aurora University student beside him, chatting from the weather all the way to a few recently popular restaurants, his voice not lowered at all, clearly meaning to disrupt Hongdou’s train of thought.

As if to resist his interference, Hongdou’s crisp voice suddenly rose several notches higher, her speech growing faster and faster, reeling off dozens of cards without pausing for breath.

Before anyone realized it, only the last ten unrevealed cards remained on the tray. Wang Bide popped a liquor-soaked cherry into his mouth, and in his drunken eyes finally arose real interest.

When only the last five cards remained, he slowly set his glass back down on the tray and looked toward He Yunqin standing by the floor-to-ceiling window.

He Yunqin had a cigarette lit in his mouth, the expression of someone enjoying a good show never once changing on his face.

Countless people had fallen at these final five cards—this Yu Hongdou was probably no exception.

Hongdou’s pace indeed slowed, needing a moment’s thought before naming each card: “Jack of diamonds, um, four of clubs, king of spades—no, wait, eight of spades.”

The guests fell silent, the tense atmosphere in the air growing thicker; people stared at the last two cards, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Hongdou tilted her head, thinking hard for a good while longer, then said slowly, “Um… ace of clubs.”

Wang Bide reminded her, “Miss Yu, you have only ten seconds left.”

A bead of sweat quietly slid down Hongdou’s temple.

The last card happened to coincide with her birthday, so she remembered the number by luck, but for the life of her couldn’t recall whether the suit was hearts or diamonds. If she got it wrong, all her prior effort would be wasted—she’d have no way to break He Yunqin’s record, nor any grounds to make any request of Wang Bide.

Having come this far in the game, she couldn’t bring herself to give up now. She racked her brain for a while longer, still unable to recall, and tapped her forehead with her hand, only for the impression to grow even fainter. Just then, Wang Bide, meaning to disrupt her further, maliciously began counting down: “Five, four, three, two—”

Hongdou bit her lip. By nature she had an adventurous streak—since her memory couldn’t be trusted, she might as well gamble.

She thought of the small photo of Chen Baidie in the newspaper a few days before—that full forehead paired with a dainty chin, how much it resembled a heart shape.

Given that beauty’s face shape, she’d guess hearts.

She smiled quietly to herself, and just before the last second arrived, blurted out: “Nine of hearts!” Miss Chen Baidie, whether you can be found or not, all depends on your luck now.

Before the waiter even flipped the card over, Wang Bide’s expression had already changed slightly.

Caught up in the tense stillness of the scene, He Zhuyun turned to look at her second brother—without her noticing, the cigarette in his mouth had grown a long tail of ash, entirely forgotten, unflicked.

The waiter flipped over the card—it was indeed the nine of hearts.

The whole hall erupted.

Hongdou secretly thought how fortunate—she wasn’t sure whether to credit Chen Baidie’s good luck, or her own.

Qin Xuekai led the applause, striding up to Hongdou, saying excitedly, “Hongdou, you’re really something.”

Hongdou smiled and lifted her face, calmly accepting the praise pouring in from all sides.

Wang Bide took a name card from inside his coat and walked over to Hongdou, slightly unsteady, smiling. “Miss Yu has truly impressed me. Since you’ve won this game, here’s my card. Any day this month, bring this card to the address on it, hand it to the doorman, and he’ll naturally let me know you’ve come. But I must remind Miss Yu, your request cannot involve any large sum of money, nor may it violate any existing law—otherwise I reserve the right to decline fulfilling my promise.”

Hongdou said, “Of course.” She took the card, examining it curiously; Gu Yun and the others gathered around, all looking envious.

After chatting excitedly with her classmates for a while, the next topic began.

Back at her seat, Hongdou remembered He Yunqin’s earlier air of lofty composure, and couldn’t help glancing toward the floor-to-ceiling window, meaning to enjoy his expression now.

But only a few idle guests stood by the window—He Yunqin was nowhere to be seen.

Looking around once more, at some point Wang Bide had also slipped away.

Wang Bide unhurriedly made his way to a small tea room in the back, pushed the door open and looked inside—He Yunqin was indeed there.

Seeing him enter, He Yunqin, leaning back on the sofa, stretched his legs out and said, “I never would have thought you’d resort to such a shabby scheme just to find yourself a capable assistant.”

Wang Bide sat down in the other corner of the sofa, shaking his head with a sigh. “Who else could persuade a big shot like Dr. He to work for me? And I didn’t want to just pick some fool at random, so I had no choice but to resort to this trick. As you know, the materials I have are vast as an ocean, and organizing them is a tremendous waste of time—I’ve long needed an assistant with a photographic memory. This Miss Yu passing the game so smoothly shows her intelligence is more than adequate; with her help, my work will be much easier too.”

For some reason, He Yunqin’s expression was no longer as relaxed as before. He said with a cold laugh, “How do you know she’ll be willing to be your assistant? Maybe it was just a passing whim, and in a couple of days she’ll forget the whole thing.”

Wang Bide pulled a small flask from his coat pocket, unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and said, “This Miss Yu clearly knew the game wasn’t easy, yet was willing to step forward and take the challenge in front of everyone—first, that shows she’s got plenty of curiosity, and a personality like that isn’t likely to balk at the odd, peculiar work I have on hand. Second, it also shows she’s recently run into some difficulty she can’t solve on her own, urgently needing outside help. Once she comes to my residence as promised to find me, I’ll dangle helping her as bait to lure her into becoming my assistant. Any intelligent person surely wouldn’t refuse such an offer, seeing as it only requires two days a week to help organize materials, the pay is quite generous, and it would incidentally solve whatever trouble she’s in—why wouldn’t she jump at it?”

He glanced at He Yunqin and gave a strange laugh. “Your mind’s always been one step ahead of mine—even things I can think of, you couldn’t? What, seeing your record broken, feeling your intelligence challenged, and now you’re upset?”

He Yunqin said with a hint of disdain, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve never thought this game was anything remarkable. Breaking the record is hardly difficult.”

Wang Bide leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “That Miss Yu just now was clearly unsure of herself on the last card—quite different from how you once rattled off every single card without pause. I’d say her getting the answer right owes a fair bit to luck. But then, in this journey of life, who’s to say luck doesn’t matter? So many things, in the end, come down to nothing but a bit of good fortune. This Miss Yu isn’t just clever and cunning, but blessed with tremendous luck too—our detective agency needs exactly this kind of talent. Even if she doesn’t come find me, I’ll go find her.”

He Yunqin raised an eyebrow and stood up, saying, “Then let me offer Detective Wang my early congratulations on finding such a satisfactory assistant. I have matters to attend to, so I won’t keep you company any longer.”

Wang Bide said in surprise, “Leaving already? Don’t tell me I’ve hit on your true feelings, and you’re just making excuses to flee.”

“What are you talking about?” He Yunqin stopped in the doorway and turned back, pointing at the Western clock on the wall, smiling faintly. “My lecture is about to begin.”

The second tea gathering topic, though not as gripping as the first, was still rich in content—delivered by a professor from a normal university sharing his research into lost guqin melodies. Not content with mere verbal explanation, the professor had also brought a guqin, setting it before him, and in the manner of ancients playing the instrument, performed the restored melody on the spot, singing as he played, his spirit high and full of ardor.

During the intermission of the tea gathering, Hongdou returned from the washroom, and had just sat down when someone kicked the back of her chair. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Hongdou turned to look and saw a young man in his twenties, dressed extravagantly, not bad-looking either, yet carrying an air of frivolity all over him that was instantly off-putting.

She remembered a foreigner had been sitting behind her earlier—this man must have just come in recently.

Seeing the man’s rude manner, she looked him up and down, and said with something between a smile and a sneer, “And who might you be? You ask, and I’m supposed to tell you?”

She shot him a sidelong glance, then turned her head away coldly.

The man kicked her chair again. “Oh-ho, this Miss has quite the temper. I’m the young master of the Nanbao Trading Company—don’t you recognize me?”

Nanbao Trading Company—wasn’t that the very company her uncle worked for?

So what if it was.

Did everyone have to recognize the young master of Nanbao Trading Company?

She tilted her head back and gave a cold laugh. “Ha!”

Ignoring the man entirely, she waited patiently for the third topic of the tea gathering to officially begin.

Before long, Qin Xuekai began introducing the third topic. It turned out the presenting professor was He Yunqin, and the theme was “A Report on Mysterious Architectural Incidents in Shanghai.”

After Qin Xuekai finished the introduction, He Yunqin took the stage, standing at ease before the crowd, and said with a brilliant smile, “A week ago, I received a joint invitation from several fellowships at St. John’s University. The letter said this tea gathering aims to exchange mysterious tales, and asked that the topics be light and whimsical. But I study engineering, and normally deal only with dry, serious engineering drawings—I honestly had no idea how to make the topic entertaining. After much thought, I happened to have some architectural materials on hand, among which several buildings, being quite old historically, have some strange and curious legends attached to them, which seemed to fit today’s theme, so I’ll bring them up for discussion—”

Unlike other professors when lecturing, he was not the least bit serious, carrying instead a rakish, debonair air, and being clear of diction and witty in speech, spoke as casually as chatting at home. Not a few of the ladies present blushed—hardly listening to the lecture at all, clearly their minds elsewhere entirely.

Just as Hongdou was about to sigh at how poor this crowd’s memory was, having so quickly forgotten the scandal between He Yunqin and his sister-in-law, someone suddenly sat down in the empty chair beside her. Turning to look, it was that young master from Nanbao Trading Company again.

“Tell you what, let me show you some gentlemanly manners. I’ll introduce myself first—my name is Lu Jingheng. My family, as I mentioned, runs a trading company. Now it’s your turn—what’s your name, where do you live? Are you a student at Aurora or St. John’s?”

As he spoke, he leaned in even closer, staring intently at Hongdou’s face, while his other hand rested on the back of her chair, in a posture as if to encircle her in his arms.

Hongdou was furious. What a shameless man. In her anger, she nearly stood up to give him a piece of her mind, but mindful of her surroundings, she squeezed the words out through gritted teeth: “Sir, please show some respect.”

Behind them, Gu Yun and the others also scolded, “What kind of hoodlum is this.”

Seeing this scene from where he stood, Qin Xuekai murmured something to a classmate beside him and strode quickly over. “Sir, this is a proper academic tea gathering. You’ve already disrupted the order of the event—please stop harassing this fellow student. Either take another seat or leave immediately.”

That Lu Jingheng, pinching an invitation between his fingers, said lazily, “Take a good look—this is the invitation the Xinya Teahouse manager sent me. Who do you think you are, to have any right to throw people out on behalf of Xinya Teahouse?”

As he spoke, he treated Qin Xuekai as though he were air, continuing to pepper Hongdou with questions on his own. “I went to Aurora a few days ago and didn’t see any girl as pretty as you there—so I figured you must be from St. John’s.”

This commotion had grown quite noticeable; He Yunqin’s lecture was interrupted, and glancing up, he quickly recognized the man pestering Yu Hongdou, feigning surprise: “And here I wondered who it was—it’s young master Lu of Nanbao Trading Company. What, tired of Bailemen already, come to try out a Western teahouse now?”

Lu Jingheng, whose attention had been entirely on Hongdou, hadn’t even glanced at the stage until now. Turning around and recognizing He Yunqin, though the two were about the same age, he showed a hint of wariness. “Can’t I come?”