89: Chapter 89 Stealth, Fortune Teller!

Zhao Yi's pupils contracted sharply.

"Now?"

"Otherwise?" Jiang Feng retorted, "Wait for him to invite us for morning tea?"

Jiang Feng slung his canvas bag over his shoulder and opened the door first.

Zhao Yi had no time to think, so he took a step forward to follow, closing the door gently behind him.

"We don't have a key card, how do we get to his bedroom?"

"Who says we don't?"

Jiang Feng pulled a card from his pocket and waved it in front of Zhao Yi.

It was Lin Feier's VIP card.

"This..." Zhao Yi's eyes widened, "Will this work?"

"The VIP privileges on this ship should be about the same." Jiang Feng walked toward the elevator, his movements as natural as if he were strolling through his own backyard.

"What if it doesn't work?"

"If it doesn't, we'll knock out two bodyguards and take their cards." Jiang Feng said it nonchalantly.

"Of course, I'm a patient, so I'll leave the fighting to you, Captain Zhao."

Zhao Yi: "..."

Ding.

The elevator door opened.

Jiang Feng walked in and swiped the VIP card on the sensor area.

On the elevator panel, the button leading to the private area lit up.

Zhao Yi followed into the elevator, already mentally prepared to "take on ten at once."

The elevator door opened again.

Before them were corridors with complex structures, hung with unknown oil paintings, the lighting dim.

Every ten meters, a surveillance camera with a blinking red light was on the ceiling in the corner.

"It's over, this place is like a maze, we have no idea where Mr. K's bedroom is." A hint of despair entered Zhao Yi's voice.

"And with so many cameras, we'll be discovered as soon as we step out."

Jiang Feng ignored his anxiety.

He walked out of the elevator, stood at the entrance of the corridor, and then closed his eyes.

"Brother Jiang? What are you doing?"

"Shh." Jiang Feng raised a hand, "Don't make noise, I'm checking the Feng Shui."

Jiang Feng's consciousness sank into another world.

[Dragon Seeking and Acupoint Spotting] activated!

In his eyes, this massive steel ship was no longer a solid object.

It had turned into a complex field of energy currents composed of countless lines.

The red ones were high-temperature power pipes.

The blue ones were the cold ventilation systems.

And those constantly moving golden dots were the patrolling bodyguards, their Yang energy and killing intent converging into the most conspicuous light sources.

Those fixed, blinking red dots were the electromagnetic waves of the surveillance cameras.

Together, they formed an inescapable net.

But every net has its nodes and gaps.

Jiang Feng saw it.

Between these dense energy currents and light dots, there existed an extremely faint, almost non-existent channel of "Qi."

It was winding and twisting, yet it perfectly avoided all danger.

"Found it."

Jiang Feng opened his eyes.

He pointed to the corridor on his left, which looked no different from the others.

"Go this way."

Zhao Yi hesitated for a moment, but ultimately chose to trust him.

He followed behind Jiang Feng, stepping cautiously with every step.

"Stop." Jiang Feng spoke suddenly.

Zhao Yi's body froze instantly, like a statue.

Jiang Feng pointed to an inconspicuous small door to a cleaning closet beside them.

"Get in."

As soon as the two slipped behind the door, a faint sound of footsteps came from the corridor outside.

Two tall bodyguards, holding guns, walked past the door expressionlessly.

The distance between them and the door they were hiding behind was less than half a meter.

Not until the footsteps faded away did Jiang Feng push open the door.

"Let's go."

Zhao Yi followed out, glancing at Jiang Feng's back; besides nervousness, there was now a hint of reverence in his eyes.

This could no longer be explained by coincidence.

"Turn left."

"Wait three seconds, go straight."

"Stick to the wall, that camera is about to turn."

"There's an infrared beam ahead, crouch down and crawl under that pipe."

Jiang Feng's instructions were concise and clear.

Zhao Yi completely gave up thinking and mechanically executed every one of Jiang Feng's commands.

This reminded him of his time in military training.

Finally, at a corner, he couldn't help but grab Jiang Feng's arm.

"Brother Jiang, how... how on earth did you do that?"

Jiang Feng cleared his throat and assumed an inscrutable expression.

"This is the art of Qi Men Dun Jia."

"When I closed my eyes just now, I was setting the four directions and judging the eight gates, using Life, Injury, Rest, Obstruction, Scenery, Death, Surprise, and Open to correspond to the flow of energy here."

"We are walking through the Life Gate among the eight gates."

"Those bodyguards and cameras are merely dead objects in the Qi Men formation; moving along the Death Gate, they will naturally never meet us, the guests of the Life Gate."

Jiang Feng was spouting nonsense with a straight face.

Zhao Yi listened, stunned; although he didn't understand a single word, he just felt it was very impressive.

"So that's how it is..." he muttered, "I always thought these were feudal superstitions..."

"That's because your level isn't high enough." Jiang Feng patted his shoulder, "Knowledge is true power."

Zhao Yi was filled with respect and nodded heavily.

The two passed through the final corridor.

At the end was an ordinary door without any decoration.

"This is it," said Jiang Feng.

He could feel that the strongest source of "Qi" on this ship was behind this door.

Jiang Feng pointed to the location of the door lock.

"It's unlocked."

Zhao Yi was stunned; he tentatively turned the doorknob.

Click.

The door opened.

The two exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of gravity in the other's eyes.

This was not negligence at all.

This was confidence.

It was the absolute confidence of "My things are placed right here, and none of you can take them."

Zhao Yi took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the door.

The scene behind the door left both of them stunned.

No splendor, no luxury goods.

This bedroom was as simple as a standard hotel room.

A bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a nightstand.

Other than that, there was nothing else.

Jiang Feng walked in.

He closed his eyes, once again sensing the source of that aura.

Very clear.

The aura of endless obsession pointed directly to the inconspicuous wooden box on the nightstand.

It was a very ordinary yellow pear wood box, with no lock on it.

Zhao Yi also saw the box and subconsciously wanted to step forward.

"Don't move!"

Jiang Feng's voice was urgent.

Zhao Yi's footsteps stopped abruptly in mid-air.

A layer of fine sweat beads seeped out on Jiang Feng's forehead.

Just now, he saw that the wooden box was wrapped in a thin, almost transparent red thread.

That was an omen of death.

"There is a pressure-sensitive bomb under the box," Jiang Feng's voice was a bit dry, "As long as the box is picked up, or the weight changes, the entire room will be blown to the sky."

Zhao Yi did not panic.

He knew this should be his area of expertise.

He also knew there was a master sitting nearby.

Jiang Feng slowly walked to the desk.

The table was very clean, with only a desk lamp and a few worn-out books.

All of them were old books filled with memories.

Jiang Feng picked one up and flipped through it.

A bookmark slid out from the pages.

It was a hand-drawn bookmark, with a small sunflower painted on it.

On the back of the bookmark, a line of elegant small script was written.

[To Ah Hai, Happy Birthday.]

[1988.6.1]

Jiang Feng's pupils contracted.

He took the bookmark, walked quickly to the nightstand, and crouched down.

He carefully, from an extremely tricky angle, saw a miniature keypad at the bottom of the box.

A six-digit password.

Jiang Feng reached out, and under Zhao Yi's nervous gaze, steadily pressed that string of numbers.

880601.

On the side of the keypad, a barely visible green indicator light flashed once.

Jiang Feng breathed a sigh of relief, straightened up, and with two fingers, gently unlatched the wooden box.

The box opened.

Zhao Yi leaned over and peeked inside.

Inside the box, there was only an old fountain pen.

And a small box wrapped in red cloth.

It was an urn.

Just then.

A sound came from behind.

Mr. K stood at the door, still wearing that Chinese-style jacket.

There was no expression on his face.

He just watched the two uninvited guests in the room quietly.