Chapter Ten: The Four Forbidden Arts

No one knew how much time had passed before Zhou Yi’s vision gradually cleared. The woman in red regarded him with a puzzled expression. She was still wearing the same crimson dress. Zhou Yi shook his head; the dizzy feeling had vanished, and his mind was now clear. He wanted to uncover the truth of the case—surely the defense attorney, Caesar, and the judge knew the inside story. Their demeanor had given him some clues.

“What happened to you just now?”

Zhou Yi smiled faintly. He didn’t want to mention the image of the woman in red dressed as a future warrior that he had just seen, but since she had saved him and knew his identity, it seemed safe to share his memories about the case.

“I must have fallen and hit my head in your basement, causing temporary amnesia. I remember everything now. My name is Zhou Yi, I’m an emergency physician. The victim was indeed my enemy, but I’m not a murderer. Here’s what happened…”

Zhou Yi spoke quickly, recounting the murder of his girlfriend years ago, Jennifer’s surgery, and how he was knocked unconscious afterward.

The woman in red pressed her lips together, tears glimmering in her eyes, her face marked by a wistful expression. Love, at any time, is something people yearn for, especially such pure emotions that could make someone disregard their own life—it was truly moving.

“Your girlfriend was a good woman. What do you intend to do now?”

Zhou Yi sighed.

“I don’t know. Jennifer is dead, and all the evidence points to me. I want to know who framed me, and I want to find the Chief Justice’s son. My girlfriend must not have died in vain!”

The woman in red tilted her head slightly, clearly catching Zhou Yi’s meaning.

“If you find evidence now, you can clear your name. But if you truly seek revenge, there will be no turning back.”

Zhou Yi nodded, his gaze falling on the woman in red. He’d mentioned this to gauge her reaction.

“You could call the police. I remember there’s a $10,000 reward!”

The woman in red laughed, wagging her finger at Zhou Yi.

“You’re a doctor, you must have plenty of savings. Surely you’re not short of $10,000. If you want revenge, do it; if you want the truth, seek it. Just pay me as compensation. Now, tell me what you need me to do—I promise to serve you until you’re satisfied!”

Zhou Yi hadn’t expected such a reply. Money wasn’t an issue for him—even if his American accounts were frozen, most of his assets were still in his Chinese accounts.

Her proposal was tempting. Looking down at his clothes, he paused mid-motion.

The couple who had given him a ride earlier must have called the police, and clearly his attire had already exposed him to law enforcement. If he went out as he was, he’d easily be spotted; he might not even be able to leave the neighborhood.

As for his home, returning was out of the question—it would certainly be under tight police watch. If Alderson couldn’t catch him, his first thought would be to stake out Zhou Yi’s home.

“I need to change my appearance, at least so I won’t be recognized. Is that possible?”

The woman in red smiled, planted a hand on her hip, looked Zhou Yi up and down, and snapped her fingers.

“With your features, it’ll be easy to change your look—that’s my specialty. But it’s already the middle of the night. Are you planning to step out and hand yourself over?”

Zhou Yi was taken aback.

He broke into laughter. That’s right—it was already past one in the morning. The streets would be crawling with police. For now, this place was relatively safe. If the woman in red intended to turn him in, she would have called the authorities long ago, not waited until now. It was best to wait.

“For safety’s sake, I’ll head to the basement. May I know your name?”

“My name is Sophia—a blend of East and West!”

Zhou Yi smiled; indeed, it was a perfect combination.

Sophia stood up, Zhou Yi followed her to the stairway corner, where she opened a cabinet, tossed him a blanket, and then opened the basement door.

“Sweet dreams!”

...

The next morning.

As dawn broke, Zhou Yi woke up. Sunlight poured through the basement’s vent—probably the spot where he’d fallen in yesterday.

He stood and listened carefully outside. There were still faint police sirens, but they sounded far away. They hadn’t caught him yet; Alderson would not be pleased. After an all-night search, the next sweep might be even stricter.

Suddenly, the basement door opened and Sophia descended.

“Come on, let’s start the makeover!”

Zhou Yi quickly followed her upstairs. After a simple wash, he went up to the second floor with her. The moment he entered the room, he stopped in his tracks, astonished.

The entire room was filled with all sorts of clothing, wigs, fake heads, and prosthetic arms—a dizzying array, like a prop room.

“What’s wrong? Surprised by my stash?”

Zhou Yi wasn’t sure how to respond—this was certainly not a normal woman’s dressing room.

“Not surprised, just intrigued. Is this your profession?”

Sophia snapped her fingers, patted the chair, and gestured for Zhou Yi to sit.

“Good guess. One of the Four Great Asian Arts—makeup—is my forte. All right, close your eyes now.”

Zhou Yi took a deep breath, glanced at his reflection, and realized there was nothing to agonize over. At worst, things could only be as bad as they already were. With that thought, he closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how much time passed; he actually drifted into sleep, with no nightmares haunting him. Sophia tapped his shoulder, and Zhou Yi sprang awake, instantly sitting up.

His sudden movement brought his gaze to the mirror, and he took a step back in shock. The old man in the mirror mimicked his retreat.

Only now did Zhou Yi realize that his new look was Sophia’s handiwork. This wasn’t makeup as he knew it—this was a total transformation.

He turned left and right. In the mirror, his hair was almost gone, just a sparse ring of silver strands hanging down. His blue eyes appeared hollow, his eyebrows drooped, all silvery, and deep wrinkles were etched across his face, with age spots scattered over his face, scalp, and hands.

Leaning closer, he saw that he was wearing a cap-like wig. Unless someone tried to peel it off, it was undetectable.

Sophia looked at Zhou Yi, eyebrows arched, evidently very pleased with her work.

“Seems you’re satisfied. Enough ogling—go change your clothes.”

Zhou Yi didn’t waste words. He stood and looked at the clothes nearby, but Sophia made no move to leave. When he hesitated, she widened her eyes.

“Hurry up and strip, no need to fuss. I’ve seen every shade of skin on a man—don’t be so uptight!”

Zhou Yi had no time for shock at the implication of her words. He quickly turned away, took off his clothes—keeping the most crucial garment, of course—and, following Sophia’s instructions, put on each piece. She even stuffed towels into his jacket’s shoulders.

When he finished and looked in the mirror again, his entire aura had changed. His tall, lean frame was now slightly hunched, his neck seemed shorter, and his clothes hung loosely—he looked just like an ordinary American man in his seventies.

Sophia was clearly satisfied, arms crossed, a wooden comb perched atop her head.

“All right, take the neighbor’s ID and drive my car—go wherever you please. Oh, and rub some cocoa powder on your fingers; that’ll scramble your fingerprints and make them impossible to identify. Elderly people’s fingerprints are always like this.”

She spoke the truth; fingerprint recognition is notoriously difficult for the elderly, much like it is for swimmers and divers. Zhou Yi took the small bag Sophia handed him and opened it.

Inside were relevant IDs and some cash. He glanced at the name—the old man was Charles Worth, born in 1950, just seventy years old. But how did Sophia come to possess such important documents?

Before Zhou Yi could ask, Sophia explained with a smile:

“Don’t worry, I have no such peculiar hobby. Grandpa Worth went traveling by ship with friends and asked me to watch his house. I have no idea where he is. He’s been gone almost a year. I was curious and tried to check his entry and exit records, but couldn’t find a thing. You can use these documents with confidence.”

Zhou Yi nodded, looking at the cash.

“Do you have a computer? I’ll transfer you the payment—since I’ll be using your car, I don’t want you to suffer any loss. Give me a Chinese account.”

Sophia smiled, produced a laptop, and handed it over. A sticky note with a Chinese bank account was attached, which she presented to Zhou Yi.

She was clearly prepared.

Without further thought, Zhou Yi logged into his domestic account and began the transfer. Seeing the amount that arrived, Sophia’s eyes widened.

“So much money?”