Chapter 52: The Phantom Thief

Mo Fei stared at the card for a long time, pondering its meaning.

First, there was the skill he kept. It looked like his tangled fate with “the Thin Line” was impossible to sever—never truly resolved. Still, judging by their last excursion investigating the kidnappers’ den, if the old fellow was in good spirits, he could indeed work wonders. For now, it seemed like a useful skill.

Then there was the new card. Everything else made sense; their meanings were all quite literal. But what about this “Lifelong Nemesis”—what could that possibly mean? Was it like “Jack the Ripper,” where you simply didn’t look trustworthy at first glance?

Perplexed, Mo Fei finished his meal and paid the bill. The customers and owner behaved normally, none showing any signs of fear or anger. It wasn’t until he left the shop, mounted his bicycle, and set out for home that things changed. Along the way, he was stopped and questioned by five traffic officers, two patrolmen, and even an elderly retired policeman playing chess at the curb.

Seeing the wary expressions on the officers’ faces, Mo Fei finally understood. “Jack the Ripper” made him look like a suspicious person outright, while “Phantom Thief” made every police officer—regardless of their branch—see him as someone shady. Even retired cops weren’t exempt. The scope of this effect was enormous.

Given how frequently he called the police, it was only a matter of time before Officer Tang or Officer Xu couldn’t restrain themselves and decided to cuff him. Miserable, utterly miserable. He was, after all, a law-abiding citizen.

With a heavy heart, Mo Fei sent a group message to the two officers in his contacts: “If I haven’t done anything, would you arrest me?”

Officer Xu replied quickly: “Craving our cafeteria food again?”

Officer Tang was slower, responding in a formal tone: “If someone tries to frame you, I will get to the bottom of it.”

Two different answers, but Mo Fei was equally moved by both. Thankfully, today’s officers were responsible. Had it been in the bygone days of the 70s and 80s in Bauhinia, just stepping out in his current condition would have landed him in the station, forced into a confession.

Not just for his own sake, but to avoid giving the officers unnecessary extra work, he figured it was better not to wander the streets too much. If he ended up clashing with pickpockets or robbers, he’d probably get cuffed alongside them.

With a sense of foreboding, Mo Fei made his way home after a series of twists and turns.

Xiao Qian was busy communicating with his team and finding actors—the actual filming would still take some time. Taking advantage of the lull, Mo Fei decided to write down a few dreams; perhaps he could sell them later.

Even without buyers as wealthy as Xiao Qian, earning a bit was still something.

Since last time, after helping him search for someone, “the Thin Line” had taken to strolling outside frequently. According to the creature itself, it needed to bond with its underlings and stake out its territory. Mo Fei didn’t bother to interfere. The cat was shrewd; if anything happened, it would return and call for help.

After writing for two or three hours, he picked up his phone to check for messages. Aside from the unavoidable push ads, there was something of interest. Lü Chunqiu had texted him: Director Wang’s film was fully shot and in post-production, and he might be invited to the premiere. Beneath her message came one from Director Wang, inviting him to the wrap party that evening.

Mo Fei felt a bit conflicted as he read the texts. He hadn’t had a single idle day in Director Wang’s crew, yet the director was generous enough to invite him to dinner. Truly a great director, magnanimous indeed. For the sake of such kindness, Mo Fei grabbed his duckbill cap and mask, left the house resolutely, and hailed a cab. Just to be safe, he didn’t ride his bike—being stopped would be too much trouble.

The wrap party was held near the film studio, suggesting the crew had returned to the big soundstage for the final shoots. When Mo Fei arrived, the banquet hadn’t begun yet.

The male lead, Wu Miao, wore a white tracksuit, looking fresh and youthful. He sat among a group of actors, holding a deck of cards and performing some trick. As Mo Fei approached, he heard Wu Miao say, “Don’t tell me which card you picked.”

At that moment, Mo Fei knew what he was doing—a basic card magic trick. Though simple, the performance, delivered by a handsome young actor with the right atmosphere, was pleasing to watch.

Wu Miao finished his act, basking in the amazed exclamations of his fellow actors, squinting in delight. Suddenly, a hand reached out and took the deck from him.

Wu Miao looked up and saw the face he’d least wanted to share a scene with during filming. Mo Fei straightened the cards and handed them back to Wu Miao, smiling as he greeted him, “Long time no see.”

Wu Miao was taken aback, then smiled as well. “Yes, it’s been a while.”

This time, seeing Mo Fei again, he no longer felt that bone-chilling sensation of being stalked by a killer. So it really had been Mo Fei getting into character before, hadn’t it?

“Were you just performing a magic trick?” Mo Fei gestured to the cards in his hand.

“Mm.” Wu Miao glanced at the deck, following Mo Fei’s finger. “Pretty cool.”

Mo Fei’s lips curled into a sly grin. “Do you know what’s most important when learning magic?”

Wu Miao’s interest was piqued. “Sleight of hand?”

Mo Fei shook his head.

“Performance?”

Mo Fei shook his head again.

“Props!” Wu Miao answered confidently. “If it’s not sleight of hand or performance, it has to be the props.”

“Correct!” Mo Fei exclaimed, waving his hand beside Wu Miao’s ear. A playing card appeared out of nowhere.

“Damn!” Wu Miao’s eyes lit up instantly. “How did you do that? Can you teach me?”

Mo Fei simply smiled, saying nothing. He handed the joker to Wu Miao. “The most important thing for a magician is never to let the props slip from your control.”

Pretentious, absolutely pretentious—so much so it made one want to challenge him. But undeniably cool!

Wu Miao held the joker, his heart racing toward a hundred beats per minute. “Did you palm this card while shuffling?”

“How did I not see it?”

“And how did you produce it from thin air?”

“Teach me, teach me!”

There was no doubt: at that moment, Mo Fei had become the coolest kid in Wu Miao’s eyes.

When Director Wang arrived, the wrap party was already ablaze with Mo Fei’s antics. The director, a dignified figure, found himself completely ignored. Was this acceptable?

Director Wang casually pulled aside a staff member. “What’s happening?”

The staffer looked excited, cheeks flushed. “Mo Fei is teaching Wu Miao magic tricks.”

“Magic tricks?” Director Wang was puzzled. He’d seen Wu Miao play cards on set before, but since it hadn’t slowed progress, he hadn’t intervened. Now Mo Fei was teaching Wu Miao magic? He hadn’t known the young man could do that.

Director Wang, skeptical, approached the crowd.

Wu Miao was seated beside Mo Fei. A female actor teased, “Which card do you think suits me best?”

Mo Fei performed a one-handed flourish, flicking his thumb to send a card flying straight into the actress’s hand.