“…Beryllium?” Ba Yunye produced the correct pronunciation without hesitation.
Diao Zhuo’s gaze held a flicker of surprise. “You know this element?”
“I don’t.” She freely admitted her ignorance. “When a character has a component you recognize, you read it by that component; when it doesn’t, you read just the phonetic half… and I guessed right?”
He gave a helpless nod.
Ba Yunye let out two awkward laughs and scratched the back of her head. “Beryllium… is it worth more than gold? Don’t laugh at me — I’ve genuinely never even heard of this.”
Coming from a different world, Diao Zhuo had no interest in dwelling on the point. On matters of expertise, he spoke steadily and in full. “Beryllium is one of sixteen strategic materials recognized worldwide as critically scarce. It is used primarily in the form of beryllium-copper alloys and beryllium metal in aerospace, aviation, and nuclear reactors.”
“Nuclear reactors, huh…” Ba Yunye couldn’t help cutting in, her eyes going wide. “That’s extraordinarily significant!”
“However, beryllium is extremely scarce in our country. Strategic reserves are currently close to zero, the gap in military-industrial demand is enormous, and civilian applications are even further out of reach. China’s confirmed beryllium ore reserves lag far behind those of the United States, Brazil, and other nations. The entire high-end market — one hundred percent of it — is monopolized by foreign players. If a large beryllium-bearing mineral belt could be found, it would be an extraordinary boon for the entire country. Quite a few geologists have been dedicating their research to locating such belts.”
Ba Yunye was struck silent by the lofty ideals these researchers had given their lives to, and it took her a long moment before she could speak. “So… your grandfather and the other experts wanted to pass down to those who came after them: carry on the work, keep searching for a beryllium-bearing mineral belt, and make a contribution to the nation and its defense?”
He shook his head, his expression grave. “Photographs and last words alike — these were things they strained to convey with whatever little time remained to them at the very end of their lives. If they simply wanted to entrust their successors with continuing their work, there was no need for all this elaborate effort constructing a cipher. Any nation searching for beryllium ore within its own territory for strategic purposes has no reason to be secretive about it. I believe they left these pieces of information for two reasons: first, to prevent it from being stolen by those with ulterior motives; and second, to tell those who came after that the purpose of their expedition was not the gold mine or gemstone deposit that later rumor claimed — it was a beryllium-bearing mineral belt, and what’s more, it is highly possible they actually found it. They knew they were in danger, so they could not state it plainly. The information was split between two people: possessing only one person’s share was worthless.”
“Like the tiger tally used in ancient times to mobilize troops.” She said it quietly, then let out a soft sigh.
Diao Zhuo rubbed the writing from the envelope and said nothing.
“So that’s what they were trying to say — in the last stretch of their lives…” Ba Yunye slapped her thigh. “All that nonsense about an extramarital affair! Internal conflict! Brawling! All fabricated! They were single-mindedly devoted to their work the whole time! Even at the moment of death, all they wanted was to get their survey findings out! I said it from the start! My eldest sister was not that kind of person! She would never insert herself into someone else’s marriage!”
“The accident was not so simple. A carful of experts — perhaps they did not meet with misfortune by accident, but rather — they gave their lives for their country!” Diao Zhuo clenched his fist, the veins at his temple rising to the surface. The news of his father’s death had already dealt his family a devastating blow, and then the rumors of an extramarital affair arrived hard on its heels. His mother had refused to forgive his father for a long, long time, and had never once visited Diao Jun’s grave. While he was at university, his mother remarried, and in his presence, she never mentioned Diao Jun’s name again — as though that person had simply never existed.
Ba Yunye turned to look at him. She fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, tore it open, and held it out. “Need one of these?”
Diao Zhuo raised a hand to decline. “Quit.”
She blinked. “You actually quit?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve started?”
“The way you phrased that makes it sound like this isn’t a cigarette but an opium pipe.” She tucked the pack away. “I was worried all that reading and searching would strain your eyes, so I bought them for you… Since you don’t want them, I’ll keep them for clients.”
Diao Zhuo put his arm around her and held her for a long while. He exhaled slowly and said in a low voice, “The so-called extramarital affair causing the accident is complete nonsense. The accident had another cause — quite possibly linked to the beryllium-bearing mineral belt. The eyewitnesses at the time, and those who survived in the same vehicle, must know the full story — in particular Song Fan, who fabricated the affair rumor.”
“But Song Fan has already…” Ba Yunye was leaning against him, toying with the ends of her own hair. “And no one knows where Zhang Chenguang went either.”
Diao Zhuo gave a cold snort. “He Zhengren is still alive and well.”
“He Zhengren…” The name rang a faint bell for Ba Yunye. “Isn’t he a leader in your geological survey unit? I heard from people before that you and he… knew each other well.”
“He Zhengren was the team leader of another survey party at the time. Their research task was coal and petroleum. He said that to save on travel expenses for the return journey, the two teams agreed to rendezvous and travel back together — and then the accident happened midway. After my grandfather’s death, it was said he obtained part of the survey materials and used them to locate an aquamarine deposit, which is why the outside world came to believe they had been searching for gemstones. It was from around that time that He Zhengren’s circumstances gradually became more comfortable — properties acquired in Beijing and Shanghai. By any reasonable calculation of the institute’s salary levels at the time, there was no way he could have earned that kind of money. Whispers circulated that he had privately gone elsewhere to give lectures for visiting professorship fees. He eventually clarified this himself, saying he had inherited assets from an elder in his family, and the rumors gradually died down. He donated several vehicles and some funds to our search-and-rescue team and became a nominal advisor — a title without real duties.” Diao Zhuo paused for a few seconds, then continued. “After my grandfather’s passing, his contact with our family grew increasingly sparse. Later, through some channel I don’t know, he heard that my grandfather had been lucid for a brief period before he died. When I was studying in Beijing, He Zhengren introduced me to the Beidou Rescue Team and came to visit me at school often, always asking about my family — particularly whether my grandfather had left any instructions or wishes before he passed.”
Ba Yunye sat up straight, fixing him with a sharp look. “Did you tell him?”
“In your estimation, do I look like I have no brain?”
“Fair enough.” She smiled, then, seeing he had gone quiet and was simply watching her, suddenly understood. “You mean that showing the photographs to A’Shui and Long Ge was the brainless move?”
“Did I say that?”
“You didn’t say it, but your entire face was covered in cursive script reading: ‘Ba Yunye has no brain.'”
“Cursive script?” He frowned, puzzled.
Ba Yunye pointed at him. “The one who wrote it can read it…” then pointed at herself, “…the one reading it has absolutely no idea what it says. So stop going around in circles to mock and undermine me — just say what you mean directly.”
Diao Zhuo laughed despite himself, could only clasp his hands together in a gesture of deferential apology. “Your servant would not dare.”
Ba Yunye smiled and pressed his hands down. “All right then. The truth is out in the open, and my eldest sister can now rest in peace. For heaven’s sake — how many years of misunderstanding… Thank goodness the internet wasn’t quite so developed back then, otherwise the public’s sheer volume of vitriol would have drowned us both. Right after she passed, there were even family members of others who came to make trouble at our orphanage — swearing they’d set fire to the room my sister had lived in. What would you call that? Being put through hell.”
“Family members came to cause trouble?”
She nodded. “Did they go to your place?”
From his expression, clearly he had not been through any such scenes. Ba Yunye grew more indignant. “This is nothing but bullying those who have no one to protect them. When a man and a woman have some kind of problem, all the rage gets directed at the woman — no questions asked, people go after the softest target. Your household, aside from you, probably had uncles, great-uncles, a whole line of men standing guard — even getting into a fight with them might not go their way, so they didn’t dare to trouble you. Instead, they traveled all the way to our orphanage and went after my sister, who had no relatives of her own.”
Diao Zhuo clearly disagreed with her reasoning. “They were all scientific researchers in that vehicle. How could their family members have so little sense?”
“Every family has its share of difficult people.” She gave a cold laugh. “These past few years there have even been people going to the old address to throw paint, deliberately turning out neatly arranged old furniture and appliances, making a mess on purpose just to cause grief.”
“Demanding compensation from your orphanage for emotional distress?”
“No mention of money. Just venting rage.”
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
Ba Yunye spread her hands helplessly. “The moment anyone mentioned calling the police, they bolted — like a pack of professional thugs. If I ever run into them again, I won’t rest until I’ve had a proper showdown with them.”
Diao Zhuo’s brow creased tightly. He didn’t know who had gone to the orphanage to cause trouble, but with some effort the whereabouts of the accident survivors’ relatives could be traced. He’d have someone make inquiries — perhaps he could give her back some peace.
Uncovering the meaning concealed in the last words was only the first step. Ahead lay the trail of the materials, the instigator of the accident — the road before them was still long, and very rough indeed.
A knock sounded at the door. A’Shui sat up alertly and peered through the peephole — it was He Zhengren and his driver, Li Haozhang. He exhaled with relief, relaxed his guard, yawned, and swung the door open. “Director He, little Li — haha, come in, come in.”
He Zhengren walked in with a cold expression. The hotel carpet was strewn with several empty beer bottles and the remnants of some braised snacks that hadn’t been thrown away. A’Shui drew back the curtains and opened the windows to air the room out, tidying up as he spoke. “You could have called and I’d have come to you, Director. There was no need to come find me yourself — this is truly too much trouble for you!”
Li Haozhang swept all the clothes off the single sofa and onto the bed, gave the seat a vigorous dusting-down, and only then did He Zhengren sit. “You went quiet without a word, then sent a single text saying you’d come to Beijing. Of course I had to come see for myself whether you were the genuine article.”
“Ah, it’s not as though I wanted to go silent…” A’Shui dumped a heap of bottles and clutter into the rubbish bin and sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. “You were absolutely right — Renlong Duoji is not so easily fooled. When I came down from Yuzhu Peak and learned that he’d been having people look everywhere for me, I knew he’d started to suspect me. Sure enough — do you know how ruthless he was? He questioned the Raging Sun convoy as agreed, but they couldn’t tell him anything useful — so he actually went and tracked down the convoy’s clients! One question and the whole thing fell apart. When had I ever guided clients for Raging Sun?”
“So your background couldn’t hold up — that’s all. He still couldn’t figure out who you actually were. Why run?” He Zhengren was clearly displeased.
“Trust!” A’Shui pressed his hands to his head. “Once trust is gone, what was there left for him to say to me?”
Li Haozhang interjected, “You didn’t take his money, you didn’t harm him — what could he have done to you?”
“He would definitely have told Ba Yunye — er — I mean, Ba Yunye.” A’Shui rubbed his hands together. “She’d started guarding herself against me as well. If I’d stayed any longer, they’d have gradually frozen me out and shut me off. I… have no intention of spending my life as a driver in Tibet.”
“By running like that, you’ve confirmed you’re someone with something to hide!” He Zhengren glared at him. “Renlong Duoji will go to even greater lengths to investigate you now.”
“Let him investigate. He’s not the police — what’s he going to find?” A’Shui said dismissively. “Besides, is Long Ge himself without issues? He used to be a reckless daredevil adventurer. After Ba Yunye returned from the military and joined the convoy, he reined himself in considerably. I noticed long ago that he’s enormously interested in those few photographs Ba Yunye has — no less than you are. Could he be… a fellow insider? We’d better not mistake our own people for enemies.”
“Impossible.” Li Haozhang said with conviction.
He Zhengren glanced at Li Haozhang, settled back to rest with his eyes closed, and after a long, awkward silence, he suddenly asked, “What did you discover at Yuzhu Peak?”