On this day, I had a small meeting with several guys near Hangzhou and explained everything to them. At four that afternoon, I lay back in bed and soon fell asleep again, waking up around midnight. I couldn't sleep anymore and went to the balcony to smoke a few cigarettes under the gray sky of Hangzhou.

When I was feeling a little uncomfortable from the cold and wanted to go back inside to get my coat, I suddenly found something strange in the room.

I had turned off the light in the room when I went out so it was supposed to be dark, but when I went back, I found a strange light in a corner of the room.

It wasn't a lamp, nor a fire, but a kind of miserable cold fluorescence.

I paused for a moment and looked at it carefully, suddenly finding that the computer on Uncle Three's desk had lit up.

I frowned, thinking to myself, "When did it turn on?" When I had finished using the computer earlier, I turned it off, so why was it suddenly on? Was there something wrong with it? So I went to the front of the desk and sat down. I saw that there was nothing on the screen, but there was a small prompt bubble in the lower right corner.

“You have a new message.”

When I looked around, I was even more confused and thought of several possibilities. First, the computer was turned on by several a.s.sistants in the afternoon, perhaps when I didn't know. But what did they want?

I wasn't worried about that since Uncle Three's computer itself was blank. No matter what reason the guy who turned on the computer had, he wouldn't get anything.

The second possibility was that the computer hadn't been turned off, but was in a sleep state where the motherboard could wake up.

But the strangest thing was that this computer was definitely not online so where did this email come from? Did Uncle Three even know anything about e-mail?

I sat down by the computer, moved the old mouse, clicked the bubble, and the message window popped out.

I saw that it wasn't a reminder email automatically sent by windows email software, but a real email from another address.

It had only one sentence:

You finally returned. How's the plan going?

I sat in front of the computer and stared at this sentence for half an hour.

I thought hard about this sentence, my mind churning out all the possibilities.

First off: Uncle Three actually had a secret inbox.

I knew that he could use computers, but I didn't know what all he could do. I figured he was just like my dad, but setting up email software on a Windows 2000 computer was a relatively advanced skill, especially for an old man like him. Did someone else set it up for him? But the core problem was that this computer was only used for reading e-books; I never knew it had internet access.

But obviously the internet was available.

He had clearly been hiding this.

The second point was that there was actually a person who was using email to contact Uncle Three. Even if nothing happened, I was still very curious about who this person was, and judging from this simple email with only one sentence, they were obviously very familiar with him. There was no heading, no signature, only one sentence that went straight to the point.

Moreover, the question he asked contained the word “plan”.

Judging from all the information I had now, I knew that Uncle Three did have a plan that involved various aspects. It was this plan that had freed The Mystic Nine from its powerful control, and had caused everything, even the seemingly incomparably powerful “it”, to fall apart.

The Wu family had sacrificed almost three generations for this plan—of course, the third generation ended with me—and Uncle Three would never allow the plan to be implemented and then stopped when it was only 90% done. He had to finish the plan 100% to the end so there wouldn't be any chance of a repeat.

Was it related to the plan I had heard about? Did this email come from a key figure?

I checked the mail software and saw that there was no other email in the inbox, only this one.

If this computer could access the Internet, such a thing would be impossible. Uncle Three must've deleted all the previous emails, which showed that he attached great importance to the emails sent to and from this inbox.

I suddenly felt that this was a chance, and it was really unexpected for things to develop like this.

I had to reply to this email. The message was too short and I needed more information to make any further judgments.

But how to reply?

I lit a cigarette, looked at the email, and thought for a long time before typing:

The plan has changed, and some information is unknown. I will give you detailed information tomorrow. How are things on your side?

I pressed the reply b.u.t.ton and the email was sent out in an instant. I leaned back against the chair and waited for his reply, my hand constantly tapping on the table. I knew that under normal circ.u.mstances, people who sent such inquiries wouldn't leave the computer after sending them, and so there should be a reply soon.

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, bubbles appeared on the lower right corner of the monitor.

I immediately clicked to open:

I am fine.

The three words flashed on the computer screen, and there was nothing more.

I was smoking a cigarette, thinking about what to send back, when suddenly I retracted my hand.

I had sent two messages: The first was that I would send him another email tomorrow; the second was about his situation.

He only replied to one, and it was very brief.

With Uncle Three's cautious nature, were they used to such concise communication? If I sent another email, would I give the impression that something wasn't right and be noticed by him?

I looked at these three words, thought for half a day, and decided that I absolutely couldn't reply. To be on the safe side, it was better to email him tomorrow. It was only a few hours away anyways. Besides, it would be better to spend these few hours thinking about the contents of my reply since I couldn't sleep.

I stood up and kept pacing back and forth in the room, all my calm thoughts disappearing as I immediately returned to my initial state of anxiety.

I looked down at myself and thought about it for a long time, finally realizing that the email I sent back was wrong.

The plan has changed, and some information is unknown. I will give you detailed information tomorrow. How are things on your side?

That meant that my e-mail tomorrow had to contain the contents of the plan, but I didn't know what the plan was—I did know, but my cognitive level was completely different from that of Uncle Three's. I didn't know what he knew, so even if I could mention some of the contents of the plan, the other party would probably feel that something was off.

For example, the real plan could be that the United States was all ready to attack Iraq, but my e-mail to the United States was probably still saying that I thought our plan to attack Iraq was feasible.

I went to the balcony and continued smoking. I had several plans in mind. First, I had better learn where the other party was before they found out. Based on what my friend said, this should be feasible through email address inquiry. But even if I called him, he would arrive here tomorrow night.

So I mustn't send tomorrow's email too early, otherwise the other party would leave as soon as they sensed a problem, and I would make the same mistake I often made before.

I couldn't imagine how cautious people in this business were. At that time in Banai, Ghost proved that just a few of our actions could result in so many shocking things. In order to prevent his plans from being disclosed, this person would definitely not take any risks. I had no doubt that once he felt anything was wrong, he would immediately take the most effective measures.

After careful consideration, however, I didn't think it was a bad idea to reply immediately, nor did I think my response was wrong. This was because I couldn't reply to his email at that time— which would contain the contents of the plan—so what I wrote back actually bought me more time.

So, what if I couldn't find the other party?

As a matter of fact, I knew the most basic routine since I had fought a battle of wits with these people so many times. I knew that the simplest way was to tell this person something had happened here and to make it sound very serious so as to hopefully force him out.

However, if the other party was an extremely cautious person, they would be more likely to disappear so I couldn't use this trick until the very end. What's more, if there was some tacit understanding between Uncle Three and the other party, they might think that the situation on Uncle Three's side had collapsed, and it was necessary to find someone to kill him. Then I would be the unlucky one, wouldn't I?

I smoked all my cigarettes and still hadn't come up with any solutions, so I had to go back in.

After entering the room, I found the computer lit up again, and a random thought popped up in my head—it was already dark just now.

I walked over immediately and found another email.

Go to bed early, we still have a long way to go so don't keep smoking.

I looked at the balcony and felt a jolt.

s.h.i.+t, he could see me!

My first reaction was to pull the curtains immediately, but I thought that would be wrong and immediately stopped myself. I sat on the stool for almost three minutes before finally suppressing my shocked reaction.

It seemed that this person's relations.h.i.+p with Uncle Three was more complicated than I thought, and judging from the tone, I guessed that they weren't a lover, but either a senior or an older brother who was sending Uncle Three emails.

I wrote back:

I understand, we're in this together.

After sending it, I immediately went back to my room, closed the door, took out my own cell, and immediately texted my friend.

I had a hunch that I could guess who this person might be.

If it was who I thought, then what happened next would be completely out of my expectations, and everyone's fate would be changed for the better.

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