Chapter 27: Tears Upon Waking (2)

Chapter 27: Tears Upon Waking (2)

She had just reached the second floor when she came face-to-face with someone.

Hu Qian was exiting the washroom on the second floor. As he turned right, he caught sight of Lan Yunzhen.

He seemed startled, his expression tensing momentarily, yet his gaze lingered on her face as if unable to look away.

Lan Yunzhen slowed her steps slightly, casting him a quiet glance before continuing on without pause.

"Yun—Miss Lan, please wait!" Hu Qian nearly blurted out the name in haste, calling after her as she moved away.

Lan Yunzhen stopped and turned back, regarding him coolly. "Vice Minister Hu? Is there something urgent?"

Hu Qian gazed at her intently. "Nothing urgent, really. It's just that Miss Lan bears a striking resemblance to an old acquaintance of mine. I wonder if you might know her?"

Lan Yunzhen smiled faintly. "Oh? And may I ask who this acquaintance is, and what relation she bears to you?"

Hu Qian's face tightened. "She... was a friend of mine, long deceased."

"How old are you? Did you grow up in Shanghai? Where is your family from?" The questions tumbled from Hu Qian's lips in rapid succession, as if he were desperate for answers.

Lan Yunzhen countered instead of answering. "If I recall correctly, Vice Minister Hu serves in the government's Transportation Ministry, not the Ministry of Internal Affairs. These questions of yours sound more like an interrogation into my background."

Realizing his impropriety, Hu Qian quickly backtracked. "Ah... At Old Master Nie's birthday banquet, I noticed you and Wan Xi appeared to be of similar age. It was merely a casual inquiry."

Lan Yunzhen smiled enigmatically, watching as he swallowed hard, groping for words.

"Have you ever been to—"

"Old Hu, who are you talking to?" A gentle, feminine voice abruptly interrupted.

Madam Yang ascended the stairs from the opposite side, seeing only Hu Qian's back and not Lan Yunzhen standing before him.

"The steamship company proprietor is looking for you to discuss something. You—" Madam Yang's voice cut off the moment she caught sight of Lan Yunzhen's face.

Her pleasant smile froze instantly, leaving her transfixed. "What are you doing here?"

Hu Qian lowered his head in silence, the handkerchief he had just used to dry his hands now dabbing at the sweat on his brow.

Madam Yang glanced at Hu Qian's guilty expression before directing an anxious gaze on Lan Yunzhen. "What were the two of you talking about?"

Lan Yunzhen smiled composedly. "Madam Hu seems quite tense. Has something urgent happened?"

Madam Yang tightened her grip on the black fur shawl draped over her shoulders, mustering her composure. "Not at all. It's just... surprising to see Miss Lan here as well."

"Madam Hu always seems displeased when you see me. Do you hold some prejudice against me?"

Madam Yang forced a laugh. "Miss Lan must jest. We've only met twice—how could I possibly have any prejudice?"

"Is that so? Then I must have misunderstood." Lan Yunzhen smiled faintly. "I have matters to attend to, so I won't keep you any longer."

With that, she took her leave.

Hu Qian looked up abruptly, standing thunderstruck as he watched her retreating figure, unable to tear his gaze away.

Behind them, Madam Yang's sharp questioning rose faintly, her voice clashing with Hu Qian's impatient explanations as the two argued bitterly.

Lan Yunzhen lowered her gaze, leaving the bickering couple behind as she scanned the area where Junior General He had stood earlier—now occupied only by a waiter bearing a tray of red wine.

She approached and asked, "Excuse me, have you seen Junior General He just now?"

The waiter thought for a moment before answering. "You mean Junior General He Yuqin? Someone else was looking for him earlier, but they made haste downstairs before asking much."

Lan Yunzhen frowned. "Do you know who that person was?"

The waiter shook his head with a smile. "Many important guests are here today—I can't recognize them all. I only remember he wore a suit with a vest and a black boater covering half his face. His lips were pressed tight, and he looked tense, as if something urgent was happening."

"I see. Thank you." Lan Yunzhen frowned in thought. "Which direction did he go after heading downstairs?"

"The southeast corner of the hall." The waiter freed one hand to point over the railing toward the lower floor.

Following his gesture, her gaze landed on the seating area reserved for the Anhui Clique warlords present today.

Her heart pounded as she tightened her delicate brows and hurried downstairs.

On the stage, the president of the Chamber of Commerce was grandly introducing the banquet's "guest of honor"—an officer in khaki military uniform stood nearby, waiting to take the microphone. Gold-braided epaulets adorned his shoulders, embroidered with his regiment's insignia and designation, marking him as a high-ranking officer. A pistol holstered at his dark brown belt, his expression solemn.

Lan Yunzhen quickened her pace, her eyes scanning every potential hiding place.

Whispers reached her ears from the merchants around her: "This is the true key figure behind today's banquet."

From the waiter's description, she guessed the man searching for Junior General He was Tang Peicheng.

Bold and resolute, Tang Peicheng was fervently devoted to his country. With so many warlord dignitaries present today... the more she thought, the more alarmed she grew—especially now that she couldn't find him anywhere.

Onstage, the military officer prepared to step into the spot vacated by the Chamber president. Meanwhile, the photographer in front of the dais adjusted his camera, positioning the flash apparatus toward the waist-high stage.

Lan Yunzhen's gaze involuntarily fixed on the camera before sweeping the surroundings again.

Every attendee today was a dignitary. The night before the banquet, armed officers would have thoroughly inspected for suspicious items, and all guests would have undergone strict searches before entry.

Bringing a rifle into the banquet was impossible—but a compact, reliable, and easily concealed derringer pistol would be the ideal weapon for an assassination.

Most importantly, such pistols were small—smaller than a grown man's palm. With Tang Peicheng's cunning, slipping past security would be a simple matter.

If his goal was truly to assassinate a warlord official, the consequences would be disastrous.

Lan Yunzhen forced herself to maintain her composure, thinking carefully.

During her studies in America, she had treated gunshot victims to the heart and had taken academic courses on firearms. Derringer pistols were deadly at close range, but their effective range was no more than thirty meters—firing within fifteen meters was necessary for a precise hit.

From the podium, a fifteen-meter semicircle... Lan Yunzhen's brows furrowed as she scanned the crowd frantically, searching for Tang Peicheng's face.

Her fingers clenched the skirts of her dress. If he were on the second floor, a single shot might not be fatal—but on the first floor, the crowd was thronging, and any sudden movement would draw attention.

Around her, a murmur of voices rose incessantly. At the podium, the photographer took several portrait shots of the Chamber president for tomorrow's newspaper.

The shutter clicked. The magnesium filament ignited, casting a dazzling flare and filling the air with white smoke. For a brief moment, the faces around her became indistinct.

Then it dawned on her.

The magnesium lamp—that was the key!

If Tang Peicheng used the flash, smoke, and noise of the magnesium lamp to conceal his movements, his chances of success would increase dramatically.

The warlord officer stepped onto the spot where the Chamber president had stood. Below, military officers in uniforms of the same regiment led the applause, the sound resounding like thunder.

Amid the din, Lan Yunzhen spotted the man in the black boater.

Tang Peicheng stood to the left of the camera, the dark brim of his hat pulled low, revealing only the lower half of his shadowed face. But after their recent interactions, she recognized him at a glance.

Then she spotted someone else.

He Yuqin, his expression grave, shouldered his way through the crowd, his gaze repeatedly darting toward that retreating figure. His rushed steps radiated urgency as he, too, moved toward Tang Peicheng.

Faster—just a little faster...

Before she could think, her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She sprinted toward the camera.

The fake smiles of the guests, the gaudy lights of the banquet hall, the roaring applause from below—all amplified in her senses, down to the finest detail. And then... the blinding flare of the magnesium lamp, the wispy white smoke—and the sharp crack of a gunshot.

The moment the gunshot rang out, the warlord's officer behind the podium, his mouth still open mid-speech, fell silent. A dark pit appeared in his chest, blood gushing forth, soaking his entire front.

The bullet had struck his heart. Even the most skilled physician could not save him now.

The crowd exploded into panic, stampeding in every direction.

At the main entrance, a squad of armed soldiers stood watch. Their leader bellowed, "Seal the exits! Capture the assassin alive!"

Chaos ensued. Tablecloths went flying in the frenzy, crystal goblets and expensive wine crashing to the floor, shattering into pieces. The place was a complete wreck.

Lan Yunzhen stood rooted amidst the fleeing crowd, her gaze cutting through the panicked crowd, searching for the man in the black boat-shaped hat.

Amid the shifting shadows, she caught sight of that black hat.

Tang Peicheng moved swiftly, the gun now stashed away. His hat was pulled even lower, showing only his clenched jaw.

He must have been trying to escape through a side door, but all exits were now blocked by soldiers. Escape was impossible.

Lan Yunzhen scanned the surroundings—amid the wreckage, He Yuqin was nowhere to be seen.

If so, there was only one way left for Tang Peicheng to escape unscathed...

"Use me as your hostage," she whispered urgently, catching up to him under the cover of the crowd. Meeting his startled gaze, she pressed, "Quick! There's no time. This is your only chance."

She pulled him into a corner. Tang Peicheng frowned, his eyes locked onto her. "Why should I believe they won’t kill you first to get to me?"

Lan Yunzhen answered swiftly, "They wouldn't have the guts to kill a descendant of the Nie family right in front of Old Master Nie."

From the open hall came the piercing shriek of police whistles and the soldiers’ orders for searches. Tang Peicheng’s eyes flicked outside, then bore into hers. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because we share the same devotion to our country," Lan Yunzhen met his gaze unflinchingly, her eyes clear. "Our paths may differ, but we want the same thing."

...

Gao Zhan hurried to He Yuqin’s side. "Well? Did he make it out?"

He Yuqin’s expression was grave as he surveyed the panicked guests and the soldier-blocked exits. "Next to impossible."

Gao Zhan’s face darkened. "If he doesn’t leave this banquet hall today..."

He Yuqin’s heart sank. He knew all too well what Gao Zhan left unspoken.

Inside the banquet hall, soldiers stood firm, herding the scattered guests into corners for identity checks. Order was gradually being restored.

Then, another gunshot tore through the tense air. Screams erupted anew as the soldiers raised their weapons toward the source.

Gao Zhan stared in shock, turning to He Yuqin. "That’s... isn’t that—?"

He Yuqin followed his gaze—and his eyes went razor-sharp.