Chapter 86: This Girl Is a Cop

Zhang Can smiled indifferently and said, “Old Zhu, it depends on whether you want to make quick money or wait for the long haul. If you want to maximize profit, you’ll need to hire master craftsmen to carve and polish it before selling. I’m not familiar with that process, nor do I care to be—it’s too much trouble. I like things simple and straightforward. You decide.”

“All right, let’s just sell the jade as is!” Zhu Senlin agreed readily, and as he drove, he continued, “I know the owners of the biggest jewelry stores in Jincheng, as well as the bosses of foreign jewelry companies. I’ll give them a call and arrange an auction. But we’ll need to prepare in advance. Tomorrow, I’ll have the staff at the shop print out photos of these pieces and fax them to the jewelers.”

Zhu Senlin was extremely experienced in such dealings. To maximize profit, you can’t sell one-on-one. He’d seen it time and again at auction houses—only when there are many bidders does an item’s value soar beyond its intrinsic worth.

Zhu Senlin dropped Zhang Can off at the foot of Tianxin Plaza and asked with a laugh, “Get some rest, brother. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning.”

“No, no, you go handle it yourself. Don’t bring me along, please. I just want to get some good sleep!” Zhang Can refused outright, laughing as he got out of the car. He strolled around the building for a while, enjoying the breeze, feeling content, and then headed toward the elevator. As he was about to enter the building, a woman hurried past him, arms full of things. As she passed, she stumbled and nearly fell.

Zhang Can quickly reached out to steady her, but the bundle in her arms tumbled to the ground, scattering everywhere. Glancing down, he saw they were clothing design sketches and related materials. After helping her regain her balance, he bent down and began picking up the papers.

The woman immediately apologized and crouched down to gather them as well. Zhang Can picked up a large stack, and once the floor was clear, he handed them back to her.

She accepted them apologetically, her fair wrist exposed. Glancing up, Zhang Can saw she was strikingly attractive, dressed in office attire, her shoulder-length hair releasing a faint fragrance.

“I’m so sorry, I was in a rush after work and bumped into you. My apologies!” she said, picking up the hefty stack of papers.

“Do you live in this building too?” Zhang Can asked, surprised, as she headed in the same direction as he was.

“Yes, I do. Seventeenth floor, Unit B,” she replied with a smile, lifting her delicate chin.

Zhang Can was taken aback by the coincidence—it was as uncanny as his uncanny ability to see through jade stone and cut out perfect pieces. He lived in Seventeenth Floor, Unit A, making them neighbors on the same floor, only separated by a wall. Could it be any more coincidental?

“I… I live on the seventeenth floor too!” Zhang Can said awkwardly, then offered, “Since we’re neighbors, let me help you carry those.”

The woman didn’t refuse, handing him all the materials. She let out a long breath, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with elegance, and smiled, “My name is Fang Xue. Pleased to meet you.” She extended her hand, then realized Zhang Can’s were full and withdrew it with a laugh.

As she pulled her hand back, Zhang Can suddenly noticed the string of black beads on her right wrist—it looked very familiar, though he couldn’t quite recall where he’d seen it before.

Even with just a glance, Zhang Can could tell these weren’t ordinary beads. They were prayer beads made of rosewood, each engraved with a tiny Buddhist character. The dark purple-black beads looked aged, and even the cord threading them was special—woven from gold and silk.

He sensed in the beads a spiritual energy he loved, even stronger than that found in jade. Zhang Can frowned, racking his brain—where had he seen such beads before?

In the elevator, Zhang Can looked at the beautiful woman and asked, “Miss, are you a fashion designer?”

Fang Xue smiled and nodded. “Yes, I work at a fashion design firm downtown—nine to five job and all that… Wait, how did you know I was a designer?”

Even Zhang Can thought she was being coy. He gestured at the stack of materials in his arms. “This whole pile is fashion design sketches. If you weren’t a designer, why would you be carting these around?”

“Oh, right!” Fang Xue laughed at herself. “You’re very clever. I’m pretty slow sometimes.”

Tell that to someone who’ll believe it!

From her expression and tone, no one would buy that she was slow. And… as Zhang Can thought harder, a jolt ran through him—suddenly he remembered. The rosewood prayer beads—he’d seen them by the sea, after hiding those three crates of drugs and money. When he took a cab back and used his vision to look through, he saw a female frogman on the boat wearing the very same beads!

These were no cheap knockoffs you could buy at a stall for a few bucks. That string alone could fetch millions. How could a junior fashion designer, making a few thousand a month, own something like that?

She’s a cop!

Must be the same female frogman. Zhang Can’s heart pounded. He tried to recall if he’d left any clues, but couldn’t figure out how he’d drawn police attention. Fang Xue was undoubtedly here to approach and test him.

He mentally reviewed the events of that day. It was unlikely Fang Xue and her team had spotted him in the sea. The only possible exposure was on the return to the highway—someone might have seen him getting out of the cab. But there were dozens of vehicles that left and returned that day.

If the police were suspicious, they’d have checked all the vehicles, but even then, Zhang Can wasn’t worried—he’d never done anything illegal, certainly nothing related to drug smuggling. At most, he’d made some under-the-table deals at the market, dodging taxes like anyone scraping out a living.

If Fang Xue was with the narcotics squad or special crimes task force, even if she discovered his minor offenses, she wouldn’t care.

But for Fang Xue to suddenly move into this building, deliberately orchestrate an encounter, and use it as a pretext to get close to him—it meant they definitely suspected him. What could he have done to arouse their suspicion?

By rights, there was nothing. But then, a thought struck him—damn!

As an ordinary worker, he’d scraped together barely a hundred thousand yuan over years in Jincheng. But in just over two weeks, his bank balance had skyrocketed to over forty million. While some of that money was acquired before he found the crates underwater, for a regular person to suddenly come into tens of millions—how could that be normal?

Even if the cash from the crates hadn’t been deposited in his account, the sudden influx of wealth in so short a time could easily suggest involvement in money laundering or drug trafficking.

Zhang Can grew frustrated, using the pile of sketches as cover to observe Fang Xue more closely. Now that he knew her background, he began to notice oddities about her.

First, though she was beautiful, every part of her physique—from her figure to her arms—radiated energy and vigor. His x-ray vision couldn’t read her thoughts, but it could see the perfect condition of her body.

She was clearly trained in martial arts, her bone structure radiating strength far beyond that of a typical designer. In short, the idea that she was a mere fashion designer was laughable.

Of course, Fang Xue could never have guessed that wearing those prayer beads would give her away. Otherwise, Zhang Can might never have guessed her true profession. Her performance as an elegant urban professional was spot-on, but the mistake was in wearing a string of rosewood prayer beads worth millions.

Cold sweat beaded on Zhang Can’s forehead as he wondered how to resolve this. Should he come clean and admit that he’d hidden the three crates not out of greed, but out of fear, and that he intended to hand them over eventually? Would she believe him?

If the roles were reversed, he would first want to know how anyone could haul those crates from such depths. That would be hard to explain.

If he chose to deny everything, he’d simply refuse to admit it. As long as he never returned to retrieve the crates, Fang Xue and her team could do nothing—there’d be no evidence, no witnesses, and the crates themselves certainly wouldn’t speak.

As for the cash in his account, if the police really investigated, they might eventually trace it, but there was nothing linking it to drugs, so there was little to fear.

With a “ding,” the elevator doors opened. Fang Xue stepped out ahead, waiting for Zhang Can. At her own door in Unit B, she took out her keys and turned on the lights.

Zhang Can set the materials on the table and glanced around. The furniture, though half-new, seemed hastily arranged, the place overly tidy.

Fang Xue opened the mini-fridge, took out a can of soda, and set it in front of Zhang Can. “No tea at home—just soda. Thanks again.”

“We’re neighbors. No need to thank me for such a small favor.”

Zhang Can popped open the can, took a sip, and, feigning nonchalance, glanced at her wrist. “Miss Fang, that’s an interesting bracelet. Did you buy it?”

“The beads?” Fang Xue paused, then replied, “Nothing special—got it at a street stall for twenty yuan.”

Zhang Can chuckled. Luckily, he knew the trade—and had his special sight. Smiling, he began to formulate a plan.