Forbidden City. Alex Archer

to be going, but she knew her ordeal was far from over.

       4

      Darkly tinted windows in the conference room blunted the sun. Ngai Kuan-Yin stood in front of the windows and gazed out over the Bund. The early afternoon tourist crowd was making its way through the stores and shops along Zhongshan Road.

      The wharves and docks just beyond them were also full. Among the historic buildings, the bones of the old walled city of Shanghai—which had been the international settlement area where the English and French had lived in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries—remained visible if someone knew where to look.

      Normally such a sight would have brought peaceful thoughts to Ngai. He owned many of the shops along Zhongshan Road and had an interest in several others. Many of the fishing boats were among his holdings, as well. Ngai’s family had been in Shanghai for generations.

      But Ngai wasn’t happy. He was in a murderous rage, though his calm demeanor didn’t allow it to show.

      “Mr. Ngai, what do you wish to do?” The voice was soft and offered no threat or rebuke, though he knew the question had been offered because he hadn’t responded when he’d been asked minutes ago.

      Slowly, Ngai turned to face the ten men seated at the long conference table. For the past twenty years, the men at that table had helped him build an empire of his father’s pharmaceutical company. He owed all of them something. They, in turn, owed him their lives. Without him, they would have been nothing.

      To a man, they wore dark business suits that looked neat and professional. All of them were lean, hard men. Much like Huangfu Cao.

      Ngai courted that image. His tailored black suit fit him like a glove. He was in his early forties and still followed the discipline of the sword and the warrior. Silver threaded his black hair. His face, unlined and cruel, had graced the covers of international magazines about wealth and business.

      Calmly, Ngai sat at the head of the table and turned his attention to the matter at hand. “I have been informed by Huangfu Cao that he has lost the belt plaque he went to recover. The woman archaeologist, Annja Creed, has escaped with it.”

      “Does the woman know that we—” Hong stopped himself “—that you are involved?”

      Hong was in his eighties and grew more frail with each passing day. When Ngai had been younger, Hong had taught him in all subjects. Whenever Ngai thought of his old teacher, he remembered him as a strong young man, clever and fearless. Times had changed as age had robbed him of his strength and confidence.

      “No.” Ngai barely kept himself from exploding. He was no longer young and no longer foolish. “I have not been compromised.” He glared at the old man in warning.

      Hong cleared his throat, then spoke softly. “Perhaps it would be better if you were to let this go.”

      Ngai tried to restrain himself and couldn’t. All of his life while his father had railed at him to get his education and to keep his imagination from running away with him, Ngai had thought only of the treasure that might one day be his—if he was smart enough and daring enough.

      Ngai glared at the old man. “I will not give this up. The treasure is out there. That is why the government has sent in their archaeological teams.”

      “Those teams,” Hong said, “have been sent in to discover what secrets Loulan might hold.”

      Ignoring the old man for the moment, Ngai switched his attention to Yuan. “You have spoken with Suen Shikai?”

      “On several occasions, sir. I have made every offer to him that you suggested.”

      “He still refuses to sell it?”

      “He does.”

      Ngai leaned back in his chair. “Then we will take it from him.”

      Silence was heavy in the room.

      “Do you hear yourself?” Hong asked.

      “It is the only way,” Ngai stated.

      “Suen Shikai was a friend of your father’s.”

      “He’s not a friend of mine.”

      Sorrow touched the old man’s features. “He has been a friend to me also.”

      “Can you convince him to give me the map?” Ngai knew the old man had tried.

      “You know I was not successful.”

      “I do. Today you will have to choose between friendships.”

      Hong frowned. “Is Huangfu still in California?”

      Reluctantly, Ngai nodded.

      “Then there may yet be another chance to get the object from the American archaeologist. If you’re patient.”

      “If I am patient,” Ngai said forcefully, “then I am only giving our government more time to discover the treasure that rightfully belongs to my family.”

      Hong’s lips tightened in disapproval.

      “Suen Shikai will be a bad enemy to make,” Yuan said.

      “Then I will not make him an enemy,” Ngai said. “I will make him a corpse.” He glared at Yuan. “See that it is done. Today.”

      After only the briefest hesitation, Yuan bowed his head. “It will be as you say.”

      “You’re dismissed.”

      Without a word, nine of the men left the room. Only Hong remained when the conference room door closed.

      “Well,” Ngai said angrily, “you might as well say what’s on your mind.”

      “This course of action you’ve chosen for yourself isn’t good,” Hong said.

      “It suits me perfectly.” Ngai glared at the old man. “I’ve always been aggressive.”

      “You call your actions aggressive. I say that they’re impetuous.”

      Ngai narrowed his eyes. “And I say that you’re flirting dangerously with insubordination.”

      “Perhaps you inherited your willful ways from me.”

      “My father always insisted he was to blame.”

      “Your father only provided your bloodline,” Hong said. “I trained your mind. In my youth, I, too, was weak.”

      “Do you mean the wine and women you chased after?”

      “No.” A faint smile twisted Hong’s withered lips. “Those are follies of a young man. I pursued them with no less zeal than your father. And you.”

      Ngai nodded.

      “I was weak because I accepted your father’s offer to educate you rather than remain with the university.”

      “If you had remained with the university, you would have been living in the streets by now.”

      “Or maybe I would have been living with a son or grandson of my own who loved me.” Hong’s eyes were sad. “Your father’s appointment afforded me a lavish living that I couldn’t have gotten anywhere else. I chose to live that life alone so that I could spend it all on myself. Now I have neither sons nor grandsons.”

      “Having regrets?”

      “Pointing out the downside of a life lived selfishly.”

      “I would rather live my life selfishly and have all that I might rather than give it away.” Ngai smiled. “Perhaps you are responsible for this after all.”

      “Me?” Hong lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

      “You were the one who told me all those old stories of the Three Kingdoms, of Cao Cao’s treasure that was lost to the City of Thieves.”

      “The