Chief Inspector Chen had always been told to act in the interests of the Party, but for once, an emperor’s special envoy for the Party, he believed that he didn’t need to wait to be told so.
What was more important, he had been fighting this time, in spite of being blacklisted by some in the Forbidden City, in spite of knowing that his luck, like in the casino boat, was capable of changing at any minute.
And he really should consider himself lucky so far. He was not alone. But for the help from all those people, Yu, Peiqin, Old Hunter, Tian, and of course, Catherine, he would never have pulled through, and because of them, he wasn’t going to quit.
Indeed, what more could he possibly have asked for?
In a way, he even had those poets on his side. Poetry could still make something happen. It was through those Prufrock-inspired lines that Chen once more made up his mind to be someone different, someone not always politic, cautious, and meticulous, someone worthy of answering her call, even across mountains and seas…
As he walked out of the café, he looked up to her room again. She was reaching out of the open window, looking up to the sky. She did not see him.
He saw a pale moon rising in the sky.
Several lines Su Dongpo’s came back to him in correspondence to the moment.
Chief Inspector Chen was ready to go back to Shanghai.
Qiu Xiaolong
