Chapter 310 - Urn

When Qing Chen got to the office that day there was a small black envelope on top of his desk. What the hell? Before he got near his table he checked his immediate surroundings for anything else suspicious. A bomb perhaps? His secretary was not even on her desk yet. So who would've put this here?

Seeing as there was nothing else out of place, Qing Chen moved to his desk and looked over the envelope. There were no stamps or a return address in it. If someone placed it there, they did it themselves.

He flipped it with his short ruler. Nothing.

There was nothing on the cover. 

He took a book and placed it on top of the envelope and sliced the top with a small cutter. He didn't want to touch it as they may find some traces—a fingerprint, hopefully—of the sender. The paper inside was small and had no folds.

There were just three words in it.

I see you ;)

Qing Chen's eyebrow lifted. What in the world? He picked up his phone and dialed the security. "Was there a breach last night?"

"No, sir. Everything is fine last night. Is there anything you would like for us to check?"

Qing Chen made his way to his huge windows and tried putting his weight on it. No way in hell the intruder got through this. Then he looked up and saw the vents. "Send me a copy of the footages from the ground floor to the twelfth."

"Right on it, sir."

Qing Chen went out of his office and went to Feng Xuan's. Surprisingly, she already got started with her work. "What's going on?" she asked.

He closed the door behind him. "Someone sent me a letter." He filled her in with the rest of the details. "There was nothing wrong with the windows and the vents."

"They came through the door?"

"I don't think they would do that. Walk right in and place it on my desk?"

Feng Xuan got up and walked with Qing Chen to his office. She examined the place. "You're right." She tapped her foot on the floor and then eyed the vent on the wall. It was so small. "If there's any possible way, they could've pushed the envelope from there."

"And then it landed on my table?" Qing Chen measured with his eyes. That was a good 10-foot distance. Could that be possible?

"Or maybe," Feng Xuan shrugged, "they paid the janitor."

"No janitors could get in this office."

"How do you clean it?"

"It doesn't get dirty."

Feng Xuan did not want to argue. "Okay," she said. "Maybe they really did it with the vents. I'll call for a team. You can do your work in my office."

Qing Chen grabbed his items and shared Feng Xuan's table. Apart from how did the person got inside his office, the more pressing matter was the message.

Who was it that sees him? Them?

Who was keeping an eye?

He could not stop himself and messaged Qing Lok. "Did you trip an alarm somewhere last night on the web?"

Qing Lok replied: "Me? No. Not on my watch. Why?"

He did not bother to reply. He was going to tell them later when they get home.

"I'll take these," Feng Xuan said and started on Qing Chen's folders.

"Hey, you have your own job," he said.

"I know," she answered. "But your folders are more urgent than mine. I'll help you with these. I know you have a lot on your mind."

Qing Chen breathed out and continued his reading but his mind kept on drifting back to his mother. Suspicion was rising from his stomach and he could not push it down. Not anymore anyway.

He knew it now for sure. His mother was alive.

Someone knew that they were looking for her. He just had to know who they were and he could find out everything about his mother. 

They must be keeping an eye because they didn't want him to find his mother. They wanted to keep track of their progress so they could take her away if they were getting warmer.

Or…

They were keeping an eye because they were also looking for his mother and they would like to see what he knew about her.

Or… the last "or" and the one least probable…

It was his mother that put that letter on his desk. That was not what happened, was it?

He pulled his attention back to the folder and he was thankful that The Kingly was a well-oiled machine. With his father away everything was on his hands. As if life could not give him a break. He could certainly not handle a crisis in the company and juggle it with finding his dead mother.

Feng Xuan cut through his thoughts. "Whose ashes do you think is there in the jar?"

She was talking about the urn in the altar in their house.

"I don't think I want to know," he answered. "I wouldn't be even surprised if it's empty."

But it was not empty.

Throughout the day, Qing Chen could not shake off the feeling that his mother's "remains" were not in the urn. When he got home, he rummaged in the kitchen, making a lot of noises trying to find a sort of plastic that he could use.

"What are you doing?!" Qing Lok followed after him up the stairs. They almost got home at the same time. "Whatever it is, I don't think it's a good idea."

"I have to know, Lok," he said, frantic. "I have to know."

Qing Chen did not waste time. He entered the room and pulled the urn from its place. He pulled the lid off.

"Don't," said Qing Lok though there was already a defeated look in his eyes. He shook his head but Qing Chen already made up his mind.

He dumped the contents on the plastic-covered floor.

It was filled with sand.