Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Forgotten Key
“My only evidence is my partner.”
When Xiao Ran uttered these words into the encrypted phone, her tone bordering on a reckless gamble, the air in the safe house seemed to freeze. Lin Feng’s holographic projection watched her silently. Those eyes, always burning with a fierce flame, for the first time flickered with an exceedingly complex emotion.
On the other end of the line, a prolonged silence stretched. Director Wang was weighing his options. Every second of that silence felt like an eternity.
Finally, Director Wang’s voice came through the phone—undeniable, tinged with exhaustion, icy cold.
“Xiao Ran, I understand your judgment. I even… personally tend to believe it.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Hope!
“But,” Director Wang’s tone shifted, and the absolute rationality and authority of a superior pressed down instantly, “neither you nor I can afford the ‘what if’.”
“To conduct a forced search on a technology delegation formally invited by our government, from a friendly nation, without direct evidence… do you know what that means?”
“If we fail, it will be the most severe diplomatic incident in recent years! And you, Xiao Ran, and I—all of us involved in this decision—will be sent straight to the military court!”
“I cannot approve it.”
“This is… an order.”
Beep… beep… beep…
The cold busy signal echoed through the quiet safe house, relentless as a death knell.
Xiao Ran stared blankly, holding the phone that had already disconnected, motionless, like a statue suddenly frozen in place.
The glimmer of hope that had ignited on her face after finding a clue was doused entirely by the harsh, icy water of reality.
Defeat.
Powerlessness.
And… a suffocating frustration, her throat gripped tight by the iron rules.
Lin Feng watched her, slumped and lost, and that familiar surge of disdain and mockery toward the system flared uncontrollably within him once more.
“Look!” He paced irritably in the cramped room, his voice bristling with sharpness. “This is the ‘procedure’ you’re so proud of! These are your damn ‘rules’!”
“When the enemy has already thrown nuclear bombs at your doorstep, you’re still calmly debating which department should hold the launch key!”
“A bunch of incurable bureaucrats!”
He unleashed all his anger onto Xiao Ran.
But this time, she didn’t retort. She didn’t even look up. She simply walked to the corner, slowly crouched down, and buried her head deep in her arms.
Her shoulders trembled slightly.
That armor-like, icy facade she always wore began to crack, besieged by both ‘rules’ and ‘reality’, and battered by Lin Feng’s ruthless words.
She was truly exhausted.
Watching this woman before him, curled up like a wounded hedgehog, Lin Feng’s irritable gaze gradually grew more complicated.
The raging fire in his chest was half extinguished by her silent vulnerability.
He wanted to say something.
He wanted to comfort, or perhaps continue to mock.
But in the end, he said nothing.
He stopped abruptly in his tracks.
A bolt of lightning flashed through his mind!
Key… Key… Rules… Evidence…
Old Lu…
He remembered something!
He rushed back to his computer, his hands flying across the keyboard in a blur.
He no longer looked at the intelligence on the “Israeli delegation.” Instead, he opened an old folder he had buried under layer upon layer of encryption.
The folder’s name was simple: “Old Lu’s Legacy.”
“What are you doing?” Xiao Ran lifted her head slowly, her reddened eyes filled with confusion.
Lin Feng didn’t turn around. He stared intently at the screen, at the rolling lines of code logs, understood only by him and Old Lu.
“Looking for the key.”
His voice was hoarse, but filled with an unprecedented, obsessive determination.
“You’re right, we don’t have direct evidence. Anderson is clever, he erased every trace that could point to him.”
“But,” his eyes shone fiercely, “he forgot—or perhaps he never knew…”
“…Five years ago, someone already left us a ‘will’!”
For the next hour, Lin Feng was utterly absorbed in his own world, built from code, shared only with his mentor.
It was more than just a hack.
It was a dialogue across life and death—a conversation of souls.
Old Lu, you old fox, what else did you hide…
Back then, you were driven to desperation, yet you still spent so much time recording these seemingly unrelated ‘behavior analyses’ of your opponent.
What did you foresee?
His fingers danced across the keyboard.
Those encrypted logs, like a diary sealed for five years, opened before him, page by page.
Finally!
At the deepest part of the logs, in a comment marked as a “discarded draft,” seemingly just gibberish!
He found it!
He found the key, forgotten for five years!
It wasn’t some revolutionary technical backdoor.
Rather, it was a segment Old Lu recorded in his final hours, using wisdom and insight beyond his era—a “behavior pattern analysis” of his mysterious adversary.
A passage, fated, almost prophetic, from the past!
Lin Feng decrypted it and projected it onto the wall.
Xiao Ran lifted her head.
That passage from five years ago, still warm with memory, appeared clearly before her eyes.
…The commander of the organization (the predecessor of ‘Ouroboros’)—Anderson—has an extremely arrogant style, a theatrical personality, and enjoys turning crime into an art form.
…Based on analysis of his financial flows, before major operations he habitually launders money and transfers ‘key items’ through ‘art transactions.’
…His favorite medium is classical oil paintings of the Dutch school. His signature is often hidden in the frame’s inner layer…
Dutch school…
Classical oil painting…
Xiao Ran’s pupils dilated to the extreme!
She rushed to another computer, pulling up the summit agenda she’d reviewed countless times, but had overlooked the most crucial detail.
Her trembling finger slid to the last page!
There, in a section dismissed by everyone as “social activity,” utterly unremarkable!
Tonight at seven.
The summit’s charity auction banquet.
The final lot: “The Storm on the Sea of Galilee” by Rembrandt van Rijn, master of the Dutch Golden Age.
Boom—
All the clues aligned perfectly at that moment!
Lin Feng, too, jerked his head up!
Across a table cluttered with clues, the two locked eyes—hard and intense!
In each other’s gaze, they saw the same things—shock, astonishment, and the ultimate exhilaration of finding the way to break the deadlock!
The key was found!
“The messenger” was not a person!
“That thing” was hidden in… the painting!
And tonight’s charity auction was Anderson’s stage—under the gaze of the world, he would carry out the “art transaction,” seamlessly passing the “Pandora’s box” to the “Israeli delegation.”
“Damn…” Lin Feng cursed under his breath, but his voice was filled with irrepressible excitement. “That old fox… he wrote out the answer for us all along.”
Xiao Ran, after the overwhelming shock, erupted with a newfound, powerful fighting spirit!
She picked up the red encrypted phone once more!
This time, her voice carried no hesitation or uncertainty—only absolute confidence.
“Director Wang!”
“I’ve found the evidence.”