3: Chapter 3 The Awakening of the Chess Pieces

In the suburbs of Jingzhou, in a village within the city.

Su Chen closed the door of his rented room, stuffed his black trench coat and mask into a cardboard box under the bed,

and pulled out his notebook, flipping to the first page.

Beneath the words "Act I: Manifestation," he drew a checkmark.

Then, he wrote a line of small text beside it: Performance Rating — Slightly Above Passing.

He also marked down the areas that needed improvement.

The first line of dialogue after entering the hospital room was spoken too quickly; the pause in the middle was half a second too short.

When Liu Yuyan asked, "How much money do you want?", he almost replied, "Twenty-two hundred is fine; I haven't figured out next month's rent yet."

Of course, he didn't say it, but the moment that thought popped up, his eyes must have flickered slightly.

Fortunately, Liu Yuyan's entire attention was on her grandfather at the time, and she didn't have the time to analyze his micro-expressions.

"Still nervous."

Su Chen muttered to himself and closed the notebook.

A mechanical sound from the system echoed in his mind.

"Act I: Manifestation, settlement complete."

"Key character trust level — Liu Yuyan: Unwavering belief (S-Rank)."

"Authenticity gain: +15."

"Point reward: 300."

"Current point balance: 700."

Su Chen stared at the number for two seconds, then leaned back against the chair.

He invested 600 and got 300 back.

He lost half, but it was within expectations.

Liu Yuyan's trust level was maxed out at S-Rank, which meant the subsequent authenticity bonuses he would receive from her would be very substantial.

The purpose of the first act was never to earn points, but to sink the hook into Liu Yuyan's heart.

That pill was the bait, the spatial teleportation was the packaging, and "I will come to find you tomorrow" was the fishing line.

Now, the fish had taken the bait.

And there was that bronze piece, a piece of old copper blank bought on Taobao for nine yuan and ninety cents, carved with the two characters "Kindling" using a utility knife, and soaked overnight in leftover tea.

Before teleporting away, he had casually placed it on the bedside table.

The cost was less than fifteen yuan, but it was the only thread for Liu Yuyan to follow.

An intelligence network of a hundred-billion-dollar group would be led by the nose by a fifteen-yuan bronze piece.

Thinking of this, the corners of Su Chen's mouth curled up.

He flipped to the second page of his notebook — "Act II: Entering the World."

Su Chen closed the notebook and looked up at the ceiling.

The ceiling fan was still turning, creaking and squeaking.

There were still three instant noodle cups on the table, and his phone balance was still two hundred and seventeen yuan and thirty-five cents.

He was the only variable in all of humanity, but the landlord's message demanding rent would not be late because of that.

—

At the same time.

At Xinghai Private Hospital, the VIP ward was brightly lit.

Liu Yuyan stood at the end of the hallway, watching the scene inside through the glass.

Three attending physicians were gathered around her grandfather's bed, repeatedly checking the reports in their hands.

CT scans, MRIs, a full set of blood biochemical indicators — all the data had been redone half an hour ago.

At this moment, Nobel laureate Professor Henry Bernstein's hand was shaking as he held the report.

"Impossible."

Professor Henry said this for the third time, using his broken Chinese.

"Ms. Liu, I saw the images from three days ago with my own eyes. Liver, lungs, bones — there were metastatic lesions everywhere. Now this report — how do you expect me to explain this?"

He held the films up to the light.

Clean.

Not shrunk, not suppressed, but completely disappeared.

There wasn't even a trace of the primary lesion, as if those cancer cells had never existed.

"Did you make a mistake?"

Another doctor leaned over to look, and after finishing, he fell silent.

"No mistake."

The director's voice was hoarse, "I had them do it twice."

The hospital room was silent.

Elder Liu sat on the bed, his complexion ruddy and his gaze clear.

Half an hour ago, he had even gotten out of bed and walked a few steps on his own, his gait steady, not at all like an eighty-year-old man who had been lying in the ICU for three months.

Professor Henry turned to Liu Yuyan.

"Ms. Liu, this situation with Elder Liu... I have been practicing medicine for forty years, and I have never seen this. From a medical perspective, I cannot provide any explanation. Can you tell me if you used some sort of —"

"Professor Henry."

Liu Yuyan interrupted him, her voice returning to that cold and hard tone accustomed to in the business world, "I am very happy that my grandfather's condition has improved. But as for the reason, like you, I am not clear."

She paused.

"All of today's examination reports are to be sealed in triplicate and handed to me. The electronic files are to be encrypted, with access rights limited to me personally."

Professor Henry opened his mouth.

"In addition," Liu Yuyan glanced at him, "all medical staff who participated in the examination tonight must sign a confidentiality agreement. The costs will be borne by Liu Group; you set the standard."

Professor Henry was a smart man.

He nodded and did not ask any more questions.

—

Twenty minutes later, Henry Bernstein walked out of the side door of the VIP area.

The night wind of Jingzhou, wrapped in the chill of early autumn, rushed toward him. He stood on the steps, unmoving.

Forty years.

He had worked in the field of tumor immunology for forty whole years.

Two hundred and thirty-seven papers, a Nobel Prize, a lifetime honorary professor at twenty-six top universities around the world,

in his entire life, he had never encountered a case he could not explain.

Spontaneous remission? He had seen it. Extremely low-probability immune counterattacks had papers to reference and mechanisms to follow.

Misdiagnosis? He had personally annotated the images from three days ago; the location, size, and boundaries of every metastatic lesion were all on record.

Those things were still there three days ago.

Now they were gone.

Not shrunk. They were gone.

Not even a scar was left behind.

Professor Henry touched the copy of the confidentiality agreement in his pocket; a twenty-million-yuan breach-of-contract penalty was not a small amount.

He didn't care.

What he cared about was that clean CT film.

He had been to China more than twenty times, and every time he encountered things that the existing medical framework could not explain.

The analgesic mechanism of certain acupuncture points still had no conclusion,

and the compound reactions of several herbs exceeded the predictive range of all his pharmacological models.

Previously, he had classified these as "areas awaiting research,"

an academic gray area; not impossible, just not yet understood.

But tonight's case — it was not in the gray area.

This was a black area.

It was something he could not explain even if he overturned all forty years of his academic accumulation.

Miracle.

Professor Henry silently recited this word in his heart, then shook his head.

He did not believe in miracles.

Miracles were a theological concept, not a scientific one.

But if this event today wasn't called a miracle, he didn't know what to call it.

And this miracle had happened in China.

Professor Henry walked toward the waiting car, stopping before opening the door.

He had signed a confidentiality agreement, and he would not say a single word to the outside world.

But in his entire life, he had never given up on any case he hadn't understood.

—

Forty minutes later.

A black Maybach drove out of the Xinghai Hospital's underground garage, followed by a black GL8 in front and behind.

In the back seat, Liu Hongde leaned against the seat.

Liu Yuyan sat beside him, clutching the stack of sealed examination reports in her hand.

The car was very quiet, with only the low hum of the engine.

Liu Yuyan's gaze did not fall on the reports; instead, she kept staring at her grandfather's profile.

As the lights swept past, she could see the flush of color returning to that face, and see the outline of his chest rising and falling steadily.

Three days ago, she had sat in the same position, in the same car, and her grandfather had also leaned against this seat.

That day, his face was gray, and his breathing was so shallow it felt like it could stop at any moment.

She hadn't dared to blink the entire way, afraid that if she blinked, that line would flatten out.

Now he was sitting here.

Alive.

His breathing was even steadier than hers.

Liu Yuyan's fingers curled.

Elder Liu spoke first.

"Yuyan."

"Yes."

"Reach out your hand."

Liu Yuyan was taken aback for a moment, then handed her hand over.

The old man's palm was dry and warm, and as he held her hand, his grip was very steady.

It was no longer the cold, soft touch from three days ago.

"Still shaking."

Elder Liu held his granddaughter's hand and said calmly,

"You were shaking the whole time in the hospital room; did you think I didn't see?"

Liu Yuyan did not speak.

"The day your father passed away, you were shaking just like this."

The old man's voice was very soft,

"That year you were twenty-four. The next day, you held a board meeting and announced you were taking over the group in front of more than thirty people who were twice your age. I sat below watching you; you didn't shake once from beginning to end."

He paused.

"But that night you went home and locked yourself in your room. I stood outside the door and listened for an hour — you didn't cry out a single sound, but I heard your teeth chattering."

Liu Yuyan's eyes reddened.

"Yuyan, Grandfather knows you have been carrying a heavy burden."

The old man patted the back of her hand,

"You don't have to carry it anymore. Grandfather is still here."

Liu Yuyan bit her lower lip.

She was no longer sixteen; she would not lose her composure in front of anyone.

But that bit of warmth in her grandfather's palm almost made her break down.

Liu Yuyan turned her head to watch the flowing lights outside the window for a while, suppressing her emotions before turning back.

"Grandfather, no third person can know about what happened tonight."

Elder Liu let go of her hand and leaned back against the seat.

His expression shifted from gentle to something else — not cold, but heavy.

Like a stone that had been soaking at the bottom of a river for eighty years, all its sharp edges worn away, but its weight remained.

"It has already been arranged."

Liu Yuyan said,

"The hospital's lips are sealed; the six people who participated in the examination all signed agreements, with a breach-of-contract penalty of twenty million."

Elder Liu did not pick up on this topic.

"That person — have you checked?"

"I had Uncle Qin pull the surveillance footage for the entire building."

Liu Yuyan's voice was very low,

"From the lobby to the elevator to the hallway, there is no record of any strangers entering or leaving. There is no surveillance installed inside the hospital room — that was your requirement when you moved in."

"He just appeared in the hospital room like that, and disappeared just like that. He didn't pass through any security checkpoints, and didn't trigger any alarms."

The car was silent for a few seconds.

"What kind of person?"

"Black clothes, half-face mask, made of bronze, the patterns are very ancient; I cannot recognize the era."

Liu Yuyan recalled,

"I couldn't see his face clearly. But his eyes —"

She paused.

She couldn't forget those eyes.

Not fierce, not cold, but a sense of ash left over after everything had been burned away.

"Very old."

Liu Yuyan finally used this word.

"Not old in age, but... in experience. Like a person who has lived for a very, very long time."

Elder Liu's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest twice.

Liu Yuyan was too familiar with this action; when her grandfather was young and encountered a difficult opponent at the negotiating table, he would make this exact move.

It was not nervousness; he was weighing the situation.

"He gave me a pill, dark gold, the size of a fingernail. It melted the moment it entered the mouth, and then a layer of golden light appeared on your body, Grandfather. After that, all indicators returned to normal. The cancer cells completely disappeared."

She paused and pulled something out from the inner pocket of her coat.

A bronze piece.

No bigger than a thumb nail, the surface gleaming with a dull bronze-green luster,

the edges were heavily worn, as if it had been clutched in the hands of some unknown person for hundreds of years.

On the front were two characters carved, the strokes ancient and primitive, deeply embedded into the bronze surface.

Kindling.

"After he left, I found it on the bedside table."

Liu Yuyan handed the bronze piece to her grandfather,

"It wasn't there before."

Elder Liu took the bronze piece and looked at it over and over again.

His fingertips traced the carvings of the two characters, and his brow furrowed slightly.

"Kindling..."

The old man muttered it softly, without drawing a conclusion.

He returned the bronze piece to Liu Yuyan, watched the night scenery flowing outside the car window, and suddenly asked,

"What did he say?"

"He said he would come to find me tomorrow to collect a price. He said that for me, it would be easy."

Elder Liu was silent for a while.

"Yuyan, Grandfather has been in business for sixty years and has seen three types of people."

The old man's tone was unhurried, as if he were telling a story from a long time ago.

"The first type of person talks about money as soon as they open their mouth. They are easy to deal with because their bottom line is written on their face. The second type of person talks about conditions, not money. They are difficult to deal with because what they want might be much more expensive than money."

Liu Yuyan asked, "What about the third type?"

"The third type of person doesn't talk about anything. They give you the item, leave the benefit for you, and then leave."

Elder Liu looked out the window.

"This type of person is the most terrifying. Because they are not doing business — they are laying out a plan. When they give you something, they have already calculated how you will repay them."

Liu Yuyan did not speak.

"But this person is also different from the third type."

Elder Liu added,

"He mentioned a price and said it would be easy for you. This shows he is not trying to manipulate you — he is genuinely looking for your help, it's just that he has the confidence to ensure you will agree."

The old man turned his head to look at his granddaughter.

"To be able to casually produce a drug that cures late-stage cancer, to be able to come and go freely under the highest level of security system. This kind of person is not someone Liu Group can afford to offend, nor is it someone Liu Group can keep."

Liu Yuyan nodded.

"Since he took the initiative to come to you, it means he has a request. If there is a place where he can use Liu Group, that is a good thing."

Elder Liu paused.

"What I fear is that he doesn't want anything."

"When he comes tomorrow, remember two things."

The old man held up two fingers,

"First, do not test him. Do not use those business tactics of yours in front of this kind of person. Second, whatever conditions he sets, agree to them first."

Liu Yuyan nodded.

The car was quiet for a while; the Maybach turned onto a road dense with street trees, and the lights became sparse.

Elder Liu suddenly sighed.

"Yuyan."

"Yes."

"Heaven has given me another chance."

The old man's tone changed; it was no longer the calmness of analyzing the situation, but carried a bit of softness that only appeared in front of his granddaughter.

"Your parents passed away early, and all these years you have been carrying Liu Group and me by yourself; it has been too tiring. Since Grandfather has gotten this life back, I will not waste it in vain. As for business matters, Grandfather can still block for you for a few more years."

He patted Liu Yuyan's hand again.

"But this person tonight, this Kindling — the weight of this matter is not something Liu Group can contain. You must walk this path yourself."

Liu Yuyan held her grandfather's hand and did not let go.

Outside the car window, the night view of Jingzhou was rapidly receding.

Neon lights swept across her face, flickering on and off.

She looked down at the bronze piece in her palm.

Kindling.