Chapter Forty-Seven: The Difficult Journey Home

When Chai Yan received the invitation to the Little Prince’s party, he knew Jiang Bin had once again saved his life, and couldn’t help but feel secretly relieved that his money had been well spent. Moreover, Jiang Bin had hinted that, to demonstrate the unbreakable friendship between them, the Little Prince intended to gift him a batch of firearms to arm his men.

This news eased Chai Yan’s fear of the Little Prince considerably; he realized he might not need to leave Dayan after all. In his eyes, the Little Prince still needed him. He was willing to continue cultivating this amicable relationship, so he postponed his plans to return home.

Chai Yan treated the upcoming party with utmost importance. He saw it as a rare opportunity to rebuild his rapport with the Little Prince and decided to showcase his worth at the event, making clear how indispensable he was. To prepare, Chai Yan stayed up all night, personally selecting girls from his adult platform for the Little Prince, determined to prove that only he could bring satisfaction and joy to the Prince.

In addition, Chai Yan had his team ready the company’s accounts and the dividends to be handed over to the Little Prince, hoping to show that he had always worked tirelessly to earn money for him, never deceiving him. He wanted his actions to convince the Prince of his unwavering friendship.

After a sleepless night, Chai Yan finally chose the girls for the party, sent their details to Wu Jing, and instructed him to bring them by any means necessary. Exhausted, Chai Yan lay down, intending to get some well-deserved rest.

In his dreams, Chai Yan fantasized about a glorious future. With his own armed forces and the Little Prince as his unassailable backer, he believed his business could soon expand again. Domestic adult streamers no longer matched the scale of his burgeoning empire; what he needed was globalization.

He imagined incorporating girls from Annam, as well as those from the infamous “adult wonderland” of Japan, and even blonde, blue-eyed girls. His platform would become international.

Chai Yan not only wanted to globalize his adult platform but also diversify it, planning to develop niche markets for fetishes, sadism, and even pedophilia. He was already scheming how to lure children into becoming streamers.

In Dayan, he thought, with the Little Prince as his shield, he could do as he pleased, realize his dreams, and become the legendary “Matchstick Seller.” As long as the Prince supported him, no one could touch him.

He imagined his business growing five, ten, a hundred, even a thousandfold. In his dreams, his wealth soared, his forces swelled, eventually surpassing General Batu. Chai Yan became the new ruler, no longer fearing the Prince or anyone else—a true emperor.

He was utterly consumed by these dreams, unwilling to wake, until his damned phone rang again. Too exhausted to care, he ignored it, even if it meant his life. He slept on, lost in his golden dreams.

When he finally awoke, night had fallen. He rubbed his eyes, glanced at his phone—and in that moment, was jolted awake. The message link displayed an explicit photo; the man was himself, and the woman was the Little Prince’s princess.

Chai Yan could no longer sit still. He had no idea who took the photo, who could have captured such a scene inside his own home. Faced with the naked evidence, he collapsed on the bed again.

Though women were mere toys to the Little Prince, and he discarded them when bored, if this photo reached him, he would surely tear Chai Yan apart. The Prince’s disregard for women didn’t mean he would tolerate anyone touching his princess. Chai Yan couldn’t fathom how anyone knew about his affair with the princess, or how the photo existed, but he knew that if the Prince saw it, his life would be forfeit.

Unable to sleep, sweating with anxiety, he wondered what to do. Had the Prince received the same photo? Who was behind this? Chai Yan knew if the Prince had seen it, he would have no time to escape from Dayan. All he could do was pray the Prince hadn’t received it.

He spent a night in terror. At dawn, there was still no sign of the Prince’s people. He knew the Prince hadn’t seen the photo yet, but dared not linger. Early in the morning, he rushed to the company, had his trusted aides prepare cash, and once again planned to flee Annam.

With less than a week until the party, it was the longest week of Chai Yan’s life, each day dragging on. He lived in constant fear, terrified the Prince would notice his nervousness, and even more that the Prince would receive the photo before he could escape.

On the day of the party, Chai Yan had no choice but to meet the Prince. Accompanied by Wu Jing and several carefully selected girls from the homeland, he arrived at the Prince’s villa. There, the Prince publicly declared Chai Yan his best friend, announcing the gift of firearms.

Everyone congratulated Chai Yan, knowing what such a gift meant for his power. All sought to curry favor. People gathered around him, toasting and congratulating him.

Outwardly, Chai Yan smiled, but inside he was terrified, dreading the Prince might receive that incriminating photo at any moment. He knew if that happened now, he’d be executed on the spot. Anxiously responding to everyone’s compliments, he felt no joy, only a desperate urge to escape, but he had to conceal it, pretending to enjoy the party and the Prince’s special treatment.

He barely endured the party, hurriedly left the villa, didn’t return home, but changed clothes in the car, ready to head to the airport. He dared not stay in Dayan a moment longer, determined to catch the earliest flight home.

He planned to take as much money as possible back himself, with Wu Jing and some trusted aides carrying cash separately to avoid arousing suspicion. Qian Ning and the others were to remain, observe the Prince’s movements for cover, and investigate who was behind the sabotage.

Much of his assets hadn’t been transferred yet, and he keenly missed Teacher Song, knowing that if Song were here, moving the assets would be a breeze. Yet he couldn’t reach Song at all.

Chai Yan knew these assets couldn’t be transferred home quickly; what he could take was negligible. Bulk transfers required more time. But staying meant risking his life, while leaving Annam for too long would arouse the Prince’s suspicion. The dilemma gave him a headache. For now, survival came first—he had to leave before finding out who sent the photo, lest he lose not just his assets, but his life.

He rushed to the airport, only to face a more severe problem: he couldn’t leave Annam. His false identity was denied at the border, and airport staff handed him a phone number to contact. Staring at the number, Chai Yan couldn’t understand why he was blocked, feeling something was wrong but unable to pinpoint it. Clutching the slip of paper, he left the airport in frustration.

Sitting in the car, he turned the slip over and over, hoping to glean a clue. But it bore nothing but the phone number. He couldn’t understand why staff gave him this number, or whose it was.

Everything seemed bizarre; he felt cursed, unable to make sense of the series of events. He even wondered if his misdeeds had finally brought divine retribution.

He shook his head, dismissing such thoughts. He didn’t believe in ghosts and gods; surely someone was targeting him, but who? And why?

Chai Yan wasn’t afraid of a direct confrontation—he was confident in victory. At least for now, he still had the Prince’s support; as long as the Prince hadn’t seen the photo and wasn’t after his life, no one else could harm him.

Yet this invisible adversary filled him with dread, like a specter haunting him, never showing itself, impossible to fight or escape, tormenting him while he remained powerless.

After much hesitation, he didn’t call the number, setting the slip aside and continuing his escape.

Over three days, Chai Yan visited every airport in Annam with outbound flights, each time denied departure and handed that same slip, which filled him with fear. To switch to other routes would mean passing through Dayan, plunging into the tiger’s den.

He lost all ability to think, utterly disoriented. Worse, Wu Jing and the others had vanished; since Chai Yan arranged their departure, he’d lost contact. It felt as if a specter truly haunted him, gnawing at his flesh and consuming his soul. Driven nearly mad, he even sought a shaman, wondering if he’d encountered something foul.

Repeatedly denied exit, he finally, after much hesitation, dialed the number.

“At last, I’ve been waiting for your call. You certainly took your time thinking,” said the voice on the other end.

“Who are you?” asked Chai Yan.

“Haifeng,” came the clear reply.

Hearing the name, Chai Yan was startled and blurted out, “Haifeng? ‘Ghostbane’? Are you ‘Ghostbane’?”

“I am Haifeng. If you prefer to call me ‘Ghostbane,’ I don’t mind,” Haifeng replied.

At that moment, Chai Yan felt a sudden clarity; he finally understood why he couldn’t leave Annam, why he felt cursed. “So this is all your doing? What do you want?” he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve simply done what my duty requires,” Haifeng replied.

Chai Yan suddenly recalled Teacher Song’s words; he now understood Song was right. For the first time, he felt how formidable his opponent was, chilled to the bone by Haifeng’s aura.

He remembered Song’s account of the Qian brothers’ fate, and Song’s repeated warnings. Regret washed over him for having underestimated this adversary, who had struck so ruthlessly, aiming directly for his life.

He asked again, “What do you want?”

Haifeng replied, “I am a police officer. I only wish to fulfill my oath and my duty, to ensure the guilty receive their due punishment.”

Chai Yan said, “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What does this have to do with me?”

Haifeng replied, “You know very well what you’ve done. The net of heaven is vast—none escape. It’s not that retribution doesn’t come, only that the time is not yet. Now, you must pay for your actions.”

Chai Yan suddenly laughed, yelling into the phone, “Pay the price? What gives you the right? You’re just a small-time cop. Do you think you can beat me? Don’t forget, this is Annam—you have no authority here, you don’t even dare meet me. On what basis do you make such bold claims? Want to catch me? Come on, try it! What are you afraid of?”

Haifeng ignored Chai Yan’s taunts, his tone calm as he said, “I know, I’m just a small-time cop. But you’re different—you have money and power here, with the Little Prince as your backer, soon to receive his gift of firearms, your own private army. But if the Little Prince sees the photo you received, do you think any of this will come to pass? What do you think will happen to you?”

Chai Yan froze. Haifeng’s words made it clear that the photo was his doing. But how had Haifeng obtained the image of Chai Yan and the Princess together at home? He forced himself to remain composed. “That photo is fake. You won’t drive a wedge between me and the Little Prince with a single image,” he said.

“I know it’s fake—I made it myself,” Haifeng replied.

“You made it? You mean it’s a forgery? You’re threatening me with a doctored photo? Do you believe I won’t kill you?” Chai Yan, realizing the photo was synthesized by Haifeng, was furious. He had lived in fear and plotted his escape all because of a fake image.

He felt utterly tricked, his anger boiling over. “Haifeng, I’ll kill you! How dare you threaten me with a fake photo? You’re finished, you’ll never make it home. Do you know who I am? How dare you toy with me? I’ll murder you!”

Haifeng remained unruffled, replying, “What do you think will happen if the Little Prince sees those photos?”

Chai Yan was instantly silenced. He knew that even if the photo was fake, he could not let the Prince see it, or he’d be finished. The Prince wouldn’t care whether it was real or not. Even if the Prince decided to investigate, it would only deepen the crisis, making his death inevitable, especially since he truly had an affair with the Princess.

His bravado vanished. He pleaded, “What do you want?”

Haifeng replied, “Simple. I want you to pay for your actions, to face legal consequences.”

Chai Yan laughed coldly. “Legal consequences? Whose law? This is Annam, not my homeland. Even if I’m punished, it has nothing to do with you.”

Haifeng replied, “You broke the law, harmed people, endangered the nation. You should return home and face justice—it doesn’t matter where you are.”

Chai Yan laughed. “Fine, you want me to face justice? Come and catch me—I’ll wait right here for you.”

Haifeng replied, with a laugh, “No need for that. I never intended to catch you or force you back for trial. I believe you very much want to return home yourself, so I gave you my contact information.”

Chai Yan scoffed, “Is it me who’s crazy or you? I want to return home for trial? What nonsense are you talking?”

Haifeng replied, smiling, “You really don’t wish to return? I won’t insist—the country doesn’t particularly need you. Stay here if you like.”

Chai Yan had meant to declare he’d stay in Annam, to show Haifeng couldn’t touch him, but suddenly realized he couldn’t remain. If he chose to stay, Haifeng would send the photo to the Little Prince, and he’d be dead.

In other words, Haifeng wasn’t asking if he wanted to return, but whether he preferred to face trial or die in Annam. Chai Yan broke down, recognizing the overwhelming power of his adversary. He finally understood why all his false identities failed him at every airport.

He realized now why the Little Prince had received his accounts. Chai Yan saw himself as a caged bird; if Haifeng wished, he could be disposed of at any moment. Now he understood why Haifeng was called “Ghostbane.” Chai Yan pleaded, “Please, don’t leave me here. I want to go home, truly. Tell me what you want me to do; I’ll cooperate.”

Haifeng explained the conditions for Chai Yan’s return. At this point, Chai Yan had no leverage left, only to comply entirely.

In the days that followed, Chai Yan began transferring funds to the accounts Haifeng provided, shipping servers and equipment back home, arranging for his Annam-based men and technicians to return as well. After a hectic week, he finally completed Haifeng’s instructions. He kept the truth from the Little Prince, who remained unaware until Chai Yan was about to leave Annam.

By now, Chai Yan had abandoned all resistance. During this period, he tried one last gambit—offering a fake set of accounts to lighten his sentence. But the recipient immediately pointed out the discrepancy.

Chai Yan wasn’t surprised; if Haifeng could send his accounts to the Prince, they must already have mastered his books. His little tricks were futile. He even considered ambushing Haifeng and his team during their final meeting, but unexpectedly, Haifeng was fully aware of his access to firearms, and before arranging his return home, had him surrender them to the police attaché in Annam, and organized his and Qian Ning’s return in batches.

When Chai Yan finally met Haifeng, he was stripped of all power. He looked at the gaunt, sharp-eyed man before him—his nemesis, whom he met for the first time, and had lost utterly in the contest. Gazing at Haifeng, Chai Yan couldn’t help but smile bitterly. After years of hard work, after carving out his own domain, it was all over.

He knew his dream had ended. Before leaving, Chai Yan glanced once more at the place that had allowed him to rise and forced him to depart. He knew he would never return and that his grand ambitions would vanish with his exit, leaving him to await the judgment of the law.