The Disappeared Uncle

"There are other weirdos tracking me."

Nothing else strange happened in her life. However, Meng Lan felt a lingering sense of unease.

Classmate: "Meng Lan, our class has been going crazy these past few days, saying you've been kept by a sugar daddy and drained him dry. I believe you wouldn't do such a thing, but did you offend someone?"

Meng Lan: "?"

She never snatched anyone's boyfriend, nor did she lack money.

—Are the people spreading rumors about her being kept blind? Kept by whom, Warren Buffett?

Meng Lan: "Ignore him."

Classmate: "Okay, just be careful if someone's bad-mouthing you."

Classmate: "Penbro!"

In the final semester of their senior year, both He Wanwan and Meng Lan didn't have many classes. Meng Lan focused on short-term trading in US stocks, completing her trades within the day, and spent the rest of her time trading Hong Kong stocks, glued to her computer in her study all day. Meanwhile, He Wanwan started frantically sending out resumes, hoping to find a stable job.

In mid-May, Meng Lan received a call from her class teacher asking her to come back to school to discuss graduation-related matters. She drove back to campus in her convertible wearing a green knitted camisole and a lemon-yellow Issey Miyake high-waisted maxi skirt.

There was no discussion of her recent controversies in the class meeting. Instead, classmates were simply exchanging information about internships and the process of obtaining a household registration after graduation. Listening to these mundane topics made Meng Lan feel like she had returned from the world of stocks to the human world.

After leaving the classroom, Meng Lan stopped in her tracks.

She turned around, feeling like there was a figure lurking at the end of the corridor, watching her intently.

Meng Lan's small FENDI phone bag contained a folded Swiss Army knife.

She didn't move but instead walked confidently toward the end of the corridor. "I see you."

However, there was no one at the corner. The corridor was filled only with students chatting during the break, with no one else around.

—Was she just being paranoid?

But she did feel someone slowly trailing behind her. She didn't head straight to her car; she didn't even plan to drive away today. If someone was really following her, there was a good chance her car had been bugged. After all, those people from the mission were capable of anything.

Meng Lan walked directly to the Humanities office building.

She knew Jiang Zelang's office, as the man had announced his office hours during class.

The door to the office was slightly ajar.

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

When Meng Lan entered, Jiang Zelang was explaining something to another female student. The girl's expression was eager, with a hint of coquettishness. Jiang's voice was gentle and deep, like melted dark chocolate, without the cloying sweetness of hoarseness.

"The complexity of synaptic transmission depends on the reflex center; you should already understand this."

"Okay, thank you, teacher!"

The girl put away her textbook and bowed, "Then I'll come to you if I don't understand anything!"

"Sure."

Meng Lan exchanged a glance with the girl. She probably wouldn't ever make such a girlish expression in her life.

Jiang Zelang tidied up his materials and looked up, asking, "I seem to remember you didn't choose my course."

Meng Lan closed the door.

Jiang Zelang frowned. "Don't close the door, keep it open."

Meng Lan's hand paused on the doorknob. "Why?"

"When a teacher is alone with a student of the opposite sex, the door shouldn't be closed to avoid suspicion," Jiang Zelang explained with a smile.

"Oh."

"—Bang!"

Meng Lan closed the door. "Don't worry, I won't do anything to you."

Jiang Zelang: ...

Jiang Zelang asked, "Is there anything you need help with?"

Meng Lan said, "Actually, I do have something." She gestured with a "1," trying to make her plea for help look lively and cute, but to Jiang Zelang, it looked more like a robot without emotions experiencing a bug.

"Let me guess first, you want to ask me about how I know your information?" Jiang Zelang handed Meng Lan two pieces of Russian candy from the drawer. "Relax, have some candy. It'll trigger the release of dopamine and adrenaline, helping you relieve anxiety."

Sitting on the visitor sofa, Meng Lan unwrapped the colorful candy wrapper. "You're wrong, it's not about that issue. But from your expression, it seems like you really have evidence."

"You don't think I recognized you because I'm your teacher, do you? There are over a hundred students in the class," Jiang Zelang teased.

"You can't even remember over a hundred students," Meng Lan retorted.

"You got me there, especially since you closed the door," Jiang Zelang said, flipping through a folder and handing Meng Lan a yellowed color photo.

The photo showed Meng Lan at the age of five, wearing a red sundress with two braids tied up with sunflowers. Her cheeks were probably painted red with her mother's lipstick, and there was even a red dot in the middle of her forehead. Sitting beside her was a beautiful and gentle woman wearing a red and white polka dot dress, with orange lipstick and brown wavy curls, looking retro and fashionable.

Young Meng Lan sat in her mother's arms, reluctantly making a "yeah" gesture towards the camera.

There was a line of small pencil writing on the back of the photo.

[April 21, 2005, Renmin Street, Xiping City, Meng Lan with Meng Qiuran]

Meng Qiuran was Meng Lan's mother.

Gentle yet strong, she was the strongest woman Meng Lan had ever seen, raising her alone through hardships. Her mother was in business and became a venture capitalist after earning her first bucket of gold, accumulating a large amount of original wealth, allowing Meng Lan to live a comfortable life now, with a steady flow of money in her account.

She touched the woman in the photo, her mouth tightly pursed, her eyes showing sadness. From Jiang Zelang's perspective, Meng Lan's seemingly tearful eyes seemed to shimmer.

"Where did you get this photo from?" Meng Lan asked.

"My uncle."

"Who's your uncle?"

"He disappeared, seven years ago," Jiang Zelang said. "I suspect his disappearance is related to your mother, so I've been looking for you, and for the person behind this photo."

He then pulled out a photo of his uncle.

In the photo, Jiang Zelang's uncle had deep and firm eyes, with a shallow scar on his left cheek. With thick eyebrows and a straight nose, he looked upright and honest, dressed impeccably in a white shirt, with no smile on his lips. He looked somewhat like a seasoned policeman, but his uncle was a businessman.

"Have you seen him? My uncle's name is Jiang Yichao," Jiang Zelang said.

Meng Lan shook her head.

This was a completely unfamiliar face to her. She didn't remember, she was even very unfamiliar with the name.

"No impression at all."

"There are notes from my uncle on the back of the photo," Jiang Zelang said. "So either your mother gave it to him, or he took it himself. Do you have something similar at home?"

"I need to go back and look through the photo albums, it'll take some time," Meng Lan said.

Jiang Zelang having her childhood photo made her categorize the man as "neutral" rather than hostile. She really liked this photo, with the child looking helpless and the parent indulging, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time.

"If you like it, you can keep it. After all, I've already found you," Jiang Zelang said.

"Thank you."

"I guessed wrong earlier. What do you need from me?" Jiang Zelang asked, his eyes looking at Meng Lan with a charming smile.

"I need a ride home," Meng Lan said.

"Don't worry about me tracking you?" Jiang Zelang's eyes sharpened.

"There are other perverts tracking me," Meng Lan replied.

Jiang Zelang's gaze became sharp. "Are you saying you feel like someone is being tracked? Like Liu Ming?"

"You know Liu Ming?" Meng Lan asked.

"Gu Ye found me. You should have known him for a while. Liu Ming's last call before he died was to me, so I was called in to assist with the investigation," Jiang Zelang explained truthfully. "Gu Ye is smart; he found out about our connection."

"We have no connection," Meng Lan interrupted. "Mr. Jiang, please get to the point. Who is Liu Ming?"

"Like you and me, he was also a participant in the hidden world, probably involved in three missions. He was probably targeted and killed. I got the task list for this mission from Liu Ming; he could perceive your names and the location when you left. He was a valuable asset to us. Strangely, after being tracked, he didn't seek help from any of us but hid by himself. So Liu Ming seems to suspect that someone from the old players targeted him."

"Do you have any leads on this matter?" Meng Lan asked.

"None at all, the scope is too large. Have you noticed anything unusual recently?" Jiang Zelang inquired.

"Somebody got hold of my personal information and is now tracking me. I'm not experiencing any hallucinations, and He Wanwan's side is also safe," Meng Lan replied.

"That's good." Jiang Zelang stood up. "Let me take my good student home. You're quite adept at risk diversion. Your convertible parked here could easily be scratched by someone; there are quite a few people who resent the wealthy."

"Someone will drive it away tomorrow," Meng Lan said nonchalantly. "Besides, I don't have just one car."

"I'm not worthy of communicating with rich women." Jiang Zelang chuckled.

He took the elevator down to the underground parking lot, where his familiar black SUV was parked. It had been a long time since Meng Lan had felt the sensation of being taken care of. She sat in the passenger seat, watching the scenes passing by in a hurry.

Suddenly.

"Zhang Jinlong!" Meng Lan's voice trembled.

"What?" Jiang Zelang didn't recognize who Zhang Jinlong was.

Meng Lan suddenly turned around and saw a familiar figure standing in the crowded student crowd. He had no injuries and was not holding a fruit knife. Zhang Jinlong stared straight at Meng Lan, his mouth curling into a sinister clown-like smile. He raised his arm, pointing his index finger at the slowly moving vehicle.

As if saying, "I finally found you."

Jiang Zelang parked the car on the side and turned to look. "What's wrong?"

The group of people had already disappeared.

"A dead person appeared, someone who died during a mission," Meng Lan said firmly. "Can dead people come back to life?"

"So far, that hasn't happened," Jiang Zelang replied.

Meng Lan lowered her gaze and thought for a moment, then opened the car window and gestured a middle finger into the air.

Zhang Jinlong's appearance ruined her good mood. If Zhang Jinlong had been covered in blood, Meng Lan might have suspected that she was hallucinating. But that man seemed too normal, and the students passing by even avoided him, clearly acknowledging his presence.

"Is there a camera there?" Meng Lan asked.

Jiang Zelang said, "It broke last week during the rain."

"What kind of school is this? Just close it down!" Meng Lan exclaimed.

"Don't be angry, let me treat you to dinner," Jiang Zelang suggested.