Chapter 39: The Thief

I stared at the casket, frozen in the act of unzipping my backpack, and stayed that way for over half an hour. The auntie on the lower bunk kept glancing up at me, probably thinking I had some kind of problem.

When I first saw the Jade Casket sitting untouched in my bag, I could hardly believe it. My mind instantly flashed back to all the terrifying things Tian Yuqing had said about its origins. But truth be told, I’d never taken those stories seriously.

In this world, at least eighty percent of incidents are caused by people. I’d already examined the casket—it was just an object. There was nothing inherently wrong with it.

Even if it did have something spooky about it, I’d handled it so many times by now that if it were cursed, I should’ve died of some mysterious illness ages ago. But here I was, alive and kicking.

I swallowed hard and did a quick internal check—no aching back, no sore waist. Aside from needing to hit the bathroom thanks to that round of drinks earlier, I felt healthy enough to pull an all-nighter playing ball.

Since the Jade Casket didn’t grow legs and walk back into my bag on its own, that left only one explanation: someone had put it there. Either Tian Yuqing never took it in the first place, or someone had secretly returned it to me.

I’d watched Tian Yuqing take it with my own eyes that morning. After that, he checked out and left. I hadn’t seen him since, so it was unlikely he’d slipped it back when I wasn’t looking. And from the moment I boarded the bus until now, my backpack had only been out of my sight for maybe ten minutes.

That meant someone on the bus had quietly opened my bag and slipped the Jade Casket back in without a trace.

I forced myself to stay calm, pulled out a few biscuits, zipped the bag shut again, and shoved it to the foot of the bed. Then I half-lay back and started flipping through a magazine.

Using the magazine as cover, I began observing everyone in the compartment. Since I’d chosen the upper bunk, I could only see the three people across from me. Let’s call them A, B, and C.

A was the guy in the upper bunk opposite mine—a high school student. He’d had his headphones in since boarding, listening to an MP3 player. He hadn’t even bothered to take off his clothes, and his socks were tossed carelessly on the guardrail. He didn’t talk to anyone. I like things a bit tidier, so my first impression of him wasn’t great.

B was an old man with graying hair, sleeping in the middle bunk. At the moment, he was slurping down a cup of instant noodles at the small table below. He’d even added a marinated egg. He didn’t seem to notice me at all—or maybe he just didn’t care.

Then there was C. He left the strongest impression on me. He looked like a soldier. There’s something unmistakable about a military man—the way they carry themselves, the aura they give off. When I first entered the compartment, I’d actually felt a bit relieved. Having a soldier nearby made the place feel safer.

But now, just one glance at him made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. C was staring directly at me. Unlike me, trying to be subtle, he was openly watching, his gaze unwavering.

I lost all appetite for biscuits. I turned away and pulled the blanket over my head, pretending to sleep. But my back was cold with sweat. I could still feel his piercing stare, and I thought, if this guy wanted to force me into something, wouldn’t it be a piece of cake?

I knew I couldn’t afford to fall asleep. I had a gut feeling—something was going to happen tonight.

If I had something to do, maybe I could stay awake. But lying there pretending to sleep while fighting off drowsiness? That was torture. At first, I kept pinching my thigh to stay alert. It worked for a while, but as the night wore on, my mind started to blur, and I even forgot to keep pinching.

Half-asleep, I suddenly heard a rustling sound below. Instantly, I snapped awake. I listened carefully—it was someone climbing up toward my bunk.

The snoring below was thunderous, but this person was moving slowly and deliberately.

Worried they might try to grab my bag, I stretched one leg straight under the blanket to block it and curled the other, ready to strike. Whoever came up—masked thug or petty thief—I was ready to kick them into next week.

I kept my head under the blanket, peeking through a small gap. Within two minutes, a head appeared from below the ladder. The person reached out, aiming for my backpack.

Without thinking, I lashed out with my foot, kicking them square in the face. I’d used a lot of force, and the guy clearly wasn’t expecting it. His head slammed into the compartment door with a dull thud—bone against metal.

Then came a loud “Ow!” as he tumbled down the ladder. The commotion was enough to jolt the snorers below into silence. I couldn’t keep up the act anymore. I grabbed my bag and peeked over the edge.

It was the old man with the instant noodles?!

I was stunned. The old man was sprawled on the floor, groaning in pain. Just then, the soldier across from me sat up, grabbed the old man by the collar, and dragged him out of the compartment.

What the hell was going on?

I jumped down from my bunk, slung my bag over my shoulder, and followed them out. The sleeper car was quiet at night, save for the occasional wail of a toddler or the rumble of someone snoring like a freight train.

The soldier dragged the old man a good distance, finally pinning him down in the dining car with one hand. The old man, clearly terrified, waved his hands frantically. “It’s a misunderstanding! Please, don’t hit me! Just a misunderstanding!”

“A misunderstanding? Then what were you doing climbing into someone else’s bunk in the middle of the night? Trying to steal something?” the soldier demanded.

The whole scene left me completely confused. I scratched my head in the aisle, thinking, Wait a minute—shouldn’t I be the one saying that? Why’s he stealing all my lines?

The old man rubbed his now-swollen forehead, his face full of sly cunning. He chuckled. “No, no, I wouldn’t dare do something so foolish. I just saw someone slip something into this young man’s bag this afternoon. The item looked really familiar, so I just wanted to take a closer look, that’s all.”

“That’s still theft! And you’ve got the nerve to joke about it? Want me to call the train police right now?” The soldier was clearly getting angry.

The old man had that seasoned, streetwise air about him. He squinted and waved dismissively. “No need to scare me, young man. I’ve been around the block. Only two people saw me tonight—you and him. And I didn’t take anything. At worst, it’s attempted theft. I’m an old man. Who’s really going to make a big deal out of this?”

“You’re just using your age as a shield!”

“You’ve still got a lot to learn, kid. Don’t go around threatening people so casually.”

Seeing the soldier getting played, I decided to step in and take this old fox down a notch. I asked, “Just how much do you know about this?”

The soldier looked baffled. He had no idea what I was talking about—but that question wasn’t meant for him.

This old man had crept into my bunk in the dead of night, trying to steal the casket. That meant he was in the business. And information about the Nine-Ring Jade Casket was practically monopolized by the Five Masters.

If this guy recognized it, he was either on the same level as Wu Yili, or someone who’d worked with the Five Masters before. Judging by his appearance, he didn’t seem like an official member.

My guess? He was someone who dabbled in the unorthodox, maybe even someone the Five Masters had done business with before. They probably trusted him enough to share some info about the casket.

As soon as I asked the question, his face changed. He stammered, “Y-Young man, you must still be half-asleep. I don’t know anything! I was just curious about what that guy slipped into your bag this afternoon and wanted to take a look, that’s all!”

I ignored his excuses, stepped around the table, and sat across from him. I began tapping my fingers rhythmically on the tabletop—something I’d picked up from Tian Yuqing during our private lessons. He always did this during negotiations. I’d experienced its power firsthand. Combined with a calm, unreadable expression and a quiet voice, it could be incredibly intimidating.

I wanted to seize control of the tempo and make him dance to my tune. I looked him in the eye, then without warning, dropped my bag onto the table with a heavy thud. The old man flinched.

“You know exactly what’s in my bag,” I said. “You’re the one who had that guy slip it in.”

His face went pale. “No! I don’t know him! I swear I don’t know him! He was wearing a baseball cap—I couldn’t even see his face! How could this be my doing? Please, I had nothing to do with it!”

Gotcha.

I listened to his frantic denial and smiled to myself.