The Audi A6 took three days to recondition.
Zhang Lei found an auto detailing shop on the south side of the city — nobody connected to Wang Defa's orbit, just a place he'd found online with decent reviews and reasonable prices. Full polish and wax: twenty-five hundred. Front bumper panel beating and respray: twelve hundred. Rim refinishing: six hundred. Total bill: four thousand three hundred yuan.
When they were done, the car looked like it had shed a skin. The dark green paint gleamed with a depth that hadn't been there before — rich, almost liquid in the sunlight. The bumper dent was gone, smooth as the day it left the factory. All four rims shone like polished chrome. Parked under the open sky, it could have just rolled off a dealership lot with a brand-new sticker in the window.
Su Qing came by that weekend to shoot photos. This time she picked the backdrop herself — a row of plane trees along Binjiang Road. Early spring buds were just starting to push out, the pale green of new growth framing the dark green body of the car. The contrast was subtle. Understated. Expensive-looking without trying.
"This one has real presence," Su Qing said, circling the car with her phone angled low. "Way more refined than those compacts. Your clientele might be moving upmarket."
"Hopefully. Listed at fifty-two thousand."
"Think it'll sell at that?"
"Should. Market range for this model and condition is forty-eight to fifty-five. Low mileage, high spec, no mechanical issues — fifty-two isn't steep. It's fair."
After she posted the photos to the group, the response came faster than expected. Five inquiries that same day — two were fellow dealers fishing for his floor price (he could tell by their phrasing), three were genuine buyers asking real questions about maintenance history and test drives.
But that wasn't the main event today.
The main event was this — Zhao Si had resurfaced.
Not directly. Not a phone call or a text. Through the owner of Yuelai Tea House, passing along a message like some kind of underworld carrier pigeon.
That afternoon, Zhang Lei was at the convenience store next to Yuelai buying a bottle of water — just water, nothing more — when the tea house owner poked her head out from behind the beaded curtain and called his name.
"Who?"
"A tall skinny guy. Came by twice last week asking about you. Said his name was Zhao Si. Wanted me to tell you —" she paused to remember the exact words, "'last time was a misunderstanding. Wants to buy you dinner to apologize.'"
Zhang Lei stood outside the convenience store. The plastic water bottle hung from his fingers, condensation beading on the surface.
Apologize?
Zhao Si? Apologize?
His mind cycled through it in two seconds flat. That poker game — the pat-down incident. If Zhao Si had genuinely decided it was a misunderstanding, he'd have moved on right after the search came up empty. Nobody waits two weeks to send a third-party apology for something they actually consider resolved. Two weeks of silence followed by an olive branch — that wasn't remorse.
That was a second probe.
He wanted to get Zhang Lei in a room. Face to face. Relaxed. See what shook loose.
"What did you tell him?" Zhang Lei asked the owner.
"Just said you haven't been around lately."
"Good. Next time he comes by, tell him I left town. Don't know when I'll be back."
She gave a small nod, didn't ask questions. Probably used to people not wanting to be found.
Zhang Lei walked home with his water. The afternoon sun angled between the buildings, throwing long shadows across the cracked sidewalk. He turned the situation over as he walked.
Zhao Si hadn't given up. He was chasing an answer: "How does Zhang Lei keep winning?" The pat-down had turned up nothing — no marked cards, no hidden devices, no earpiece. But Zhao Si wouldn't interpret that as proof of innocence. In his world, a clean search just meant the technique was better hidden.
In Zhao Si's logic: nobody wins every time. Not at Zha Jinhua. If it wasn't cheating, then it was something else — some angle, some method, some edge that Zhao Si didn't understand. And anything Zhao Si didn't understand was something Zhao Si wanted to own.
Zhao Si wanted to crack open Zhang Lei's secret — and monetize it.
That realization crawled down Zhang Lei's spine like ice water.
If Zhao Si managed to get close — if he watched long enough, pressed hard enough — and confirmed that Zhang Lei had some kind of supernatural advantage... the secret of the X-ray vision would be exposed. Even if Zhao Si couldn't figure out the mechanism, just establishing the fact that "Zhang Lei has an inexplicable ability" would be enough. That alone was dangerous.
A man like Zhao Si would find a way to control him. Put him to work. Gambling dens, rigged fights, insurance scams — the applications were endless. Or worse — he'd sell the information to someone with more imagination and fewer scruples.
Zhang Lei made a decision: maintain total distance. Don't meet Zhao Si. Don't respond. Don't go anywhere Zhao Si might show up — not the tea house, not the card rooms, not the neighborhood bars where those circles overlapped.
Time was the best eraser. Memories faded. Curiosity dimmed. As long as Zhang Lei stayed invisible long enough, Zhao Si would eventually find some other puzzle to chase.
Back home, he set the water on the nightstand and checked his phone. A message from Su Qing:
"Got a buyer for the Audi. Appointment tomorrow afternoon. A restaurant owner from the north side of the city."
"Good. I'll get ready."
The car business couldn't pause. Bills didn't wait. His father's medicine didn't wait. As for Zhao Si — time and distance were the only tools available, and they'd have to be enough.
Zhang Lei sat on the edge of his bed in the fading light. On impulse, he activated his vision on the opposite wall — testing range, testing control. He could see through the entire wall now without straining. On the other side was his parents' bedroom. Zhang Jianguo lay on the bed, facing away, body curled in on itself. The rise and fall of his chest was shallow. Slow.
Zhang Lei watched for two seconds. Then shut it off.
Things he shouldn't see, he wouldn't see.
Even with the power to see through anything — some boundaries still needed to be held.