The Secret of the Yoga Club: The Women's Identity is Not Simple

After the billiard hall business stabilized, Lin Feng had a few rare days of leisure.

Zuo Ning's side has calmed down considerably. The frequency of surprise inspections has decreased from three times a week to once a week, and there haven't been any this past week.

Kui Zi said it might be that Director Ye had given instructions, or perhaps Zuo Ning's own men were tied up in the anti-drug operation and couldn't attend to this matter. Whatever the reason, Lin Feng breathed a sigh of relief.

Every morning, he would first go to Shuntong Logistics to check the previous day's dispatch records and customer feedback, then inspect several billiard halls, and in the evening he would go back to Baijinhai to meet with Sister Hong. His life was very regular.

With a week to go before the start of the new semester, the number of students on campus is gradually increasing.

Lin Feng had originally planned to visit Shen Qianqian in the afternoon, but she said on the phone that her grandfather's health had stabilized a lot recently, and she had returned from Qingyuan ahead of schedule. She wanted him to accompany her to go shopping and buy some things for the start of the school year.

Just as Lin Feng was about to leave, his phone rang. A name flashed on the screen—Ye Qinghan.

Ye Qinghan answered the phone, her voice coming through the receiver with a hint of weariness that Lin Feng hadn't heard in a long time. "Xiao Lin, are you free today? I've been in meetings for the past few days, and I'm exhausted. I'd like to go to a hot spring to relax. Will you come with me?"

Lin Feng calculated the days.

Since their last meeting at the teahouse, the two haven't seen each other much for a while, usually just exchanging a few messages on WeChat to ask how each other is doing.

Ye Qinghan would occasionally send him health and wellness articles, and Lin Feng would reply with an emoji, ending the conversation.

"Okay. Where should we meet?"

"I'll send you the address. Wait for me at the intersection near the entrance of the residential area, and I'll drive over to pick you up."

Lin Feng hung up the phone and sent Shen Qianqian a message saying that something came up in the afternoon and he would go see her later.

Shen Qianqian replied with "Okay" followed by a cat nodding emoji. She changed into the misty blue short-sleeved shirt that Shen Qianqian had given her, put on a light jacket, and went out.

I walked to the intersection at the entrance of the residential area and stood under a plane tree to wait for Ye Qinghan's car.

He had walked this road countless times, and he could count the number of shops on both sides of the road even with his eyes closed.

But he didn't notice that about 40 or 50 meters behind him, a black Santana was parked in a parking space on the side of the road.

There were two people in the car. In the driver's seat was a fat man whose belly made his T-shirt bulge out, and he was stuffing a bag of potato chips into his mouth.

In the passenger seat was a thin man wearing sunglasses, holding a small video camera with the lens pointed directly at Lin Feng's back.

Several empty beverage bottles and leftover bun wrappers were scattered on the floor mats inside the car, and several opened packets of biscuits were lying on the dashboard.

There were two thin blankets and two neck pillows piled on the back seat, indicating that the person had spent many nights in the car.

The fat man munched on potato chips and mumbled indistinctly, "I've been following him for almost two weeks now. This kid's just going between the billiard hall, the logistics company, and home every day—a monotonous routine. I keep taking the same few photos, and even when I bring them back to Master Zuo, he's not satisfied."

The skinny man pushed his sunglasses up, his eyes never leaving the camera's viewfinder. "You don't understand. Master Zuo said this kid and that female bureau chief definitely have something going on. They can't always be so clean; there will always be times when they slip up. We just need to keep an eye on them."

He paused, a smirk playing on his lips, "But seriously, this Lin kid is incredibly lucky with women. In the two weeks we've been following him, he's been involved with at least a few beautiful girls. You tell me, these days, can being handsome really put food on the table?"

Just as the fat man was about to reply, the skinny man suddenly pushed the bag of potato chips aside and raised his voice by half a beat. "Wait—it's coming!"

A Tank 300 turned into the intersection and stopped in front of Lin Feng. The window rolled down, revealing the profile of a short-haired woman in the driver's seat.

The skinny man zoomed in and took several close-up shots. The woman was wearing a dark blue knitted cardigan, her hair was tucked behind her ears, and she wore a pair of pearl earrings.

Although he wasn't wearing a police uniform, they already knew his face by heart from the files.

Lin Feng opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat.

The Tank 300 restarted and drove past the Santana. The woman in the driver's seat turned her head and said something to Lin Feng, a slight smile on her lips.

The laugh was light and brief, but every detail was captured clearly in the high-definition lens.

The skinny man put down the camera, picked up his phone, and dialed a number, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement. "Boss Ma, we've got footage of that female bureau chief. She personally drove to pick up the kid, and the two of them left together. We're following them now, and it looks like they're heading out of the city."

After a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, Master Ma said, "Follow them first. See where they go. Don't get too close. This kid spotted you last time; you'd better think twice about the consequences if he finds you again."

After hanging up the phone, the skinny guy started his car and followed far behind the Tank 300, about two or three car lengths behind.

After leaving the city, the number of cars on the road gradually decreased, and Tank 300 turned onto a highway leading to the foot of the mountains in the suburbs.

The road is lined with dense bamboo, the bamboo stalks are as thick as a bowl, and the branches and leaves at the top intertwine and block out most of the sky.

After driving for about half an hour, Tank 300 turned onto a hidden stone-paved road. At the end of the road was a group of Chinese-style buildings with white walls and gray tiles hidden deep in the bamboo forest. There was no sign at the entrance, only a wooden sign with "Zhuxi Hot Spring" written in calligraphy.

The skinny man parked his car in the shade of the bamboo grove by the roadside, not daring to drive in. Watching Tank 300 disappear at the end of the stone path, he picked up his phone and dialed the fat man's number.

"Master Ma, they've gone into Zhuxi Hot Springs. I've heard of this place before; it's a private club that operates on a reservation basis, and membership fees are tens of thousands a year. If we go in, we'll definitely be investigated."

Master Ma's voice came through the receiver, tinged with suppressed excitement. "Don't go in. Just wait outside. Send me your location, and you don't need to worry about anything else."

Meanwhile, at the indoor heated pool on the top floor of the Keda Hotel, Zuo Ning was soaking in the water.

He was shirtless, leaning against the pool wall, with two women in bikinis flanking him on either side.

The girl on the left, wearing a dark blue bikini, was showing him a funny video on her phone, laughing hysterically. The girl on the right, wearing a white bikini, was scooping water and pouring it on his shoulders.

Master Ma pushed open the glass door, strode to the edge of the pool, squatted down, and whispered a few words in Zuo Ning's ear.

As Zuo Ning listened, the corners of his mouth slowly curved into a smile. He pulled his arms off the two women's shoulders, braced himself on the edge of the pool, and flipped himself ashore.

Water was gushing down his body. He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and walked over to sit down on a nearby lounge chair.

"Zhuxi Hot Spring." Zuo Ning pulled the towel down a bit, revealing a long scar on his chest that stretched from his collarbone to his ribs.

This scar was left from a turf dispute with his father years ago, when someone used a machete on him. Whenever he gets emotional, the skin around the scar turns slightly red. Right now, the scar is tinged with a faint pink.

He picked up his phone, scrolled through his contacts, found a number saved as "Zhuxi Liu," and dialed it. The phone rang a few times before being answered. A middle-aged man's slightly nervous voice came from the other end: "Boss Zuo?"

"Manager Liu, it's been a while since we last talked. How's everything going over there lately?" Zuo Ning's voice was unhurried, as if she were having a casual chat.