Chapter 501: Jiang Wendong, Ji Qingya
"Young Master Jiang, please have some fish."
Nightingale was, after all, a member of the War Department. With her original features restored, she was a stunning sight.
"Young Master Jiang, it’s not too late to go after you eat." The old man also brought over a jug of aged wine.
Jiang Xinghai hesitated for a moment. He really should have gone to capture the traitor Arhat immediately.
"Don’t worry, Young Master Jiang. He can’t escape," Nightingale said, signaling with her eyes.
"That’s right. He’s been under our surveillance the whole time. He couldn’t escape even if he grew wings," the old man explained.
"Fine."
Jiang Xinghai dropped the pretense. He had already waited five years to find his parents; he could certainly wait long enough to have a meal.
And so, the three of them sat and drank together.
Through their conversation, Jiang Xinghai learned that the old man’s surname was Pan. He wasn’t part of the War Department, but a descendant of the expeditionary force from the last century, and of Dragon Country blood.
Currently, he was an informant for the War Department.
As for Nightingale’s cover story, she was Old Pan’s distant relative who had sought refuge here from the Dragon Country, which was why she had started a grilled fish stall.
To maintain her cover, Nightingale had used the Tissue and Bone Shifting Technique to make her features uglier, allowing her to hide in plain sight.
"Young Master Jiang, we cannot use any Hot Weapons. Please understand," Nightingale said cautiously.
"We are in a foreign country, after all. We can’t use them rashly," Jiang Xinghai nodded.
He understood the War Department’s rules.
The three of them talked as they ate.
Jiang Xinghai brought up Jing County.
"You’re going there, Young Master Jiang?" Nightingale and Old Pan were both taken aback.
Jiang Xinghai laughed heartily. "This world is a vast place. Is there anywhere I can’t go?"
"Right. Anyone connected to Zhong... is definitely no ordinary person." Nightingale thought of her direct superior, Zhong Yunman.
"Ah, Young Master Jiang, when the time comes, let me be your guide," Old Pan said, puffing on his long-stemmed pipe.
"No, I’ll be your guide," Nightingale said, deciding to help him secretly.
Jiang Xinghai smiled and shook his head. "My Third Senior Sister has arranged for someone named Jin Lin to guide me. And she’s the type who can openly carry a gun."
"The Celestial Net Mercenary Corps!" Nightingale smiled upon hearing this.
Jiang Xinghai nodded. That was exactly right.
Back then, when he and his three senior sisters had their video call, they had discussed not only the traitor Arhat, but also Ji Xiao in the distant Imperial City—the man known as Black Cloak, Mr. Long!
Therefore, they had already agreed at the time that if Jiang Xinghai needed help in Myanmar, Jin Lin of the Celestial Net Mercenary Corps, who was currently in Myanmar, would be available at a moment’s notice!
An hour later, it was just past nine in the morning.
The three of them finished their fish and wine, concluding Jiang Xinghai’s first breakfast in Myanmar—complete with morning wine.
"Uncle Pan, please take care." Nightingale politely bowed to Old Pan.
"We’re all compatriots from the Dragon Country. Don’t be a stranger. Go on."
Old Pan tucked his pipe into his belt, stood up to help Nightingale steady herself, then looked at Jiang Xinghai. "Young Master Jiang, come by for grilled fish anytime you’re free."
"Uncle Pan, take care." Jiang Xinghai clasped his fist in a salute.
This fifty-something-year-old man, though living in a foreign land, had not forgotten his homeland. It was truly admirable.
Afterward, Nightingale changed into a dark green camouflage uniform and appeared before Jiang Xinghai. "Young Master Jiang, let’s go."
"Let’s go."
The two of them strode down the street, making no attempt to conceal themselves.
Seeing Nightingale looking so valiant and heroic now moved Jiang Xinghai quite a bit.
"Why do you keep looking at me, Young Master Jiang?" Nightingale teased Jiang Xinghai, though her gaze remained fixed ahead.
"You’re overthinking it. I was looking at your uniform. It’s really nice—sharp, imposing, and extraordinary." Jiang Xinghai had dreamed of joining the army ever since he was a child.
But alas, fate had not been on his side.
He was from the suburbs of the Imperial City.
Five years ago, he had passed the college entrance exams and been accepted into the National Defense University, but a tragedy struck his family.
His parents vanished without a trace.
As for him, his limbs were broken and he was abandoned on Taihang Mountain.
If his master hadn’t been passing by, rescued him, and brought him back to Kunlun, he would have been nothing but a pile of dry bones by now.
Now, seeing Nightingale’s War Department uniform, the desire to enlist stirred within him once more.
However, it was just a fleeting thought.
Until he found his parents, he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted.
The two of them walked about a hundred meters down the street before stopping in front of a small shop that carved custom stamps.
"This is it?" Jiang Xinghai was slightly taken aback.
He had assumed the traitor Arhat would be hiding in an extremely concealed location.
Who would have thought he’d be right on the roadside, in a proper storefront?
Nightingale stood quietly in place. "Our brothers are hidden and guarding the back door. I’ll wait for you at the front."
She had received orders from Zhong Yunman that Jiang Xinghai was to handle this with full authority, so she wouldn’t go in with him, lest she interfere with his actions.
"Alright."
Jiang Xinghai nodded and looked at the wide-open storefront.
Inside the shop, a middle-aged man with gaunt cheeks and messy hair was hunched over a desk, intently carving a stamp.
He didn’t seem to have noticed Jiang Xinghai and Nightingale’s conversation outside the door.
’The traitor, Arhat!’
Jiang Xinghai’s eyes gleamed as he walked in, one step at a time.
"Welcome to my little shop. Please write the name on this paper. What script would the customer like? Regular, Small Seal, Clerical, Song..." Arhat didn’t look up, still carving the stamp as he spoke to Jiang Xinghai.
Without a word, Jiang Xinghai wrote down two names with wild, flying strokes—"Jiang Wendong, Ji Qingya!"