Chapter 19 Part 2

Old Master Zhou was a shrewd old fox. How could he miss the younger generation’s inclinations? He’d just assumed Zhou Jinsheng had limits and wouldn’t bring it into the open. Until Shen Yu shattered that belief. A worthless man, a scheming nobody with ulterior motives—worth his prized son risking his life for some flimsy “feelings”?

In his rage, Old Master Zhou began delegating power to other kin.

It was time to give others a chance.

Suddenly, the once-guaranteed Zhou Corporation heir was a name in name only, his glory faded, sunk into obscurity.

The higher one stood, the harder the fall. The once-ferocious beast plummeted from the cliff, the pain and humiliation of impact forcing it to curl up. Its fur lost luster, gasping its last—anyone could step on it, stab it.

And the cruelest knife, the one that cleaved his heart in two, was Shen Yu’s disappearance without a word.

Just when everyone thought Young Master Zhou Da would wallow in debauchery, lost to the dogs and horses of vice, never to rise again—six years ago, Zhou Jinsheng reemerged.

Young Master Zhou Da returned to Shang Capital City, stepping over mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

He schemed with power and toyed with hearts. He solemnly and coldly carved a bloody path, finally ascending step by step to the throne that belonged to him. Under his iron-blooded conquest, the entire Zhou Corporation was forced to undergo a blood change and reorganization.

Some despaired and died, some fought like trapped beasts and ended up in prison, some fled abroad… Meanwhile, under Zhou Jinsheng’s leadership, Zhou Corporation flourished like the sun.

Shen Yu: 【No, listening to you like this, he should thank me instead.】

【……】

007 tactically fell silent for a moment before saying: 【007 thinks the Host has no reason. Although that’s the case, to put it positively, at least the villain still remembers the Host. Compared to the first loop, that’s great progress.】

Shen Yu sighed: 【Even so, we still need to test it first to know if it’s a step back or progress.】

It felt like the progress bar toward being drowned in the lake by Zhou Jinsheng again.

The rain grew heavier. Moisture lingered in the air as raindrops snaked down the glass.

This city really had a lot of rain. Shen Yu sighed and said to the person on the other end of the phone, “The rain’s getting heavy. Did you bring an umbrella?”

Chen Miaomiao froze and looked outside the corridor.

She stayed silent for a long time before remembering to reply, “I did,” then hurriedly hung up.

Shen Yu put down his phone and looked out the window.

Far away, across the street clogged with traffic, was a flower shop opposite the coffee shop. Two wooden flower racks stood in an eight shape facing outward by the shop door. Delicate and beautiful flowers lifted their faces, stretching out to absorb the sudden rain.

No matter the world, these beautiful flowers always brimmed with vibrant life.

At the flower shop entrance, countless pedestrians mingled with vividly colored umbrellas, like a lush, extravagant garden extending outward from the shop.

Shen Yu realized too late. When he reached the door, he remembered one thing:

He hadn’t brought an umbrella.

Shen Yu stood at the door, buffeted by cold wind for a good while. The road conditions were terrible in the rain, and the driver hit traffic. By the time he got Shen Yu back to the hotel, it was late at night. Chill seeped into his skin layer by layer.

As soon as Shen Yu returned to his room, he received a message from Chen Miaomiao.

[Jinghe North Road No. 177, Fragrant Mountain Mansion, Thursday at 8 PM, Deer Cry Charity Auction.]

Two seconds later, the message was withdrawn.

Perhaps out of some hidden guilt, or maybe that faint bond from youth about “protection and being protected,” Chen Miaomiao ultimately extended a hand to him.

Deer Cry Charity Auction?

A related memory flashed through Shen Yu’s mind. The organizers had sent him an invitation—it was some event focused on autistic children. But he’d been too busy lately, and he blacklisted all such bloodsucking events that required his funding.

Most importantly, would Zhou Jinsheng attend something like that?

Shen Yu hurriedly got up and rummaged through the pile of letters in the cabinet. He finally found a gold-embossed invitation on blue velvet in the corner, tied with a narrow deep-red silk ribbon that formed a pretty bow on the velvet surface.

“The night of splendor approaches. We sincerely invite you to join the grand event and participate in the Deer Cry Charity Auction. The auction aims to care for autistic children, letting the light of warmth illuminate their life journeys. We look forward to your presence.”

Shen Yu checked the date.

The fourth?

Wasn’t that tomorrow?

While showering, Shen Yu set the water to cold. He took a cold shower, then sat on the balcony blowing cold wind until late into the night.

When he woke the next day, his head throbbed. As wished, he had a low fever. Shen Yu took some fever reducers and looked at the handsome youth in the mirror—dark circles under his eyes, pale skin. He had maxed out the weak buff and was very satisfied.

Fragrant Mountain Mansion was a towering comprehensive skyscraper. From the top floor, one could overlook the entire East District of Shangjing. On Shangjing’s inch-of-land-worth-gold terrain, the clusters of buildings stacked like jigsaw puzzle blocks filled the view.

At night, all of Shangjing glittered with lights, even brighter than daytime. The streetlights came on precisely at six. As the night deepened, the lights grew brighter. Luxury cars shuttled across the elevated bridges, their headlights forming flowing rivers.

Years ago, a famous architect tried imitating foreign aerial glass walkways. They completed only a tenth before a leadership change shelved the project, leaving part of the structure at Fragrant Mountain Mansion.

The transparent glass walkway extended from the top floor into the sky. Beneath one’s feet, separated by a layer of glass, lay Shangjing’s endless lights. Stepping on it felt like standing amid a brilliant galaxy of stars formed by the lights.

The Deer Cry Charity Auction was held on the twenty-fourth floor of Fragrant Mountain Mansion. Amid the blaze of lights, men and women in luxurious attire mingled, their clothes flowing, laughter and chatter mingling as glasses clinked.

Fragrant Mountain Mansion, top floor, negotiation room.

A massive crystal chandelier hung high. The room’s light and shadow weren’t sharply divided. A silver storm handgun lay quietly on the long negotiation table covered in black velvet. The silver barrel gleamed coldly under the lights.

When Song Shi entered, he noticed a middle-aged man kneeling by the sofa.

The person in charge of TNVK Company’s Cathead Island development project combed his hair in a slick elite style and wore a black suit. But now, he showed no trace of industry elite poise. He groveled on the velvet carpet, his spine nearly collapsing into the floor, trembling like chaff.

Song Shi lowered his gaze. This middle-aged man, who had been only forty when they first met, now looked over fifty.

The arrival of an outsider seemed to give him renewed courage. The man on the floor pleaded in a low voice:

“Mr. Zhou, we didn’t expect smuggling on the island either. Please give us one more chance. I will handle it—”

Unlike the wretched man on the floor, the man on the sofa had a solid and lean build, his posture relaxed like an awakening lion, long legs in suit pants crossed.

Upward, full and fluid muscle lines faintly showed under the black shirt, bursting with sudden menace. A wide-shouldered black overcoat draped outside. Straight black brows accented his somber, stern face, his eyes intimidating at a glance.

The man leaned forward slightly, every movement radiating pressure. He placed the red wine glass in his hand on the black velvet table. The velvet muffled the base, but the stem clinked crisply against the gun barrel.

Glass struck metal with a sharp “Clink!”

At the sound, the speaking man immediately fell silent as a cicada in winter. His body jerked violently, then tensed in terror. Like a man sentenced to death, he froze in place. Despair cracked across his twisted face, nearly collapsing him to the floor.

Zhou Jinsheng took in all his reactions. After a long moment, he said:

“Ten days.”

“Ten days?”

The man shot from hell to heaven, eyes wide, not reacting at first. Song Shi kicked him, and he snapped awake, weeping with gratitude. Ten days was the best deadline he could bargain for. With Zhou Jinsheng’s gesture, he scrambled up and left without pause.

Song Shi closed the door, hurried to Zhou Jinsheng’s side, and respectfully said, “It’s settled with Elder Chi.”

“Mm.”

Zhou Jinsheng lifted his wine glass and walked to the window. Silent night enveloped him from all sides.

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his gaze and thoughtfully swirled his glass.

He glanced outward lightly, seeing only ant-like crowds, indistinct black dots. As he was about to look away, he spotted a familiar yet strange figure.

Zhou Jinsheng’s wrist paused as he swirled the glass.

Memories filled with flashing blades and swords boiled once more in a pot of thick porridge, fire scorching dry wood.

These emotions were hidden, dark, laced with sudden violence—like ants burrowing into his heart, turning into intense killing intent.

Below the venue, the youth in white shirt and suit pants sat amid the crowd. Time had polished him into something even more handsome and poised. The purity and innocence of youth had faded, replaced by ambition tempered by vicissitudes and aloofness.

He needed no extra adornment; light and shadow alone drew eyes.

Shen Yu suddenly sensed a tangible, terrifying gaze.

Shen Yu paused, hairs standing on end. He fought the urge to turn, tensed his back, and continued conversing calmly with He Qian beside him.

He Qian was someone Shen Yu had pulled in at the last minute. The charity auction attendees were all rich, idle, and philanthropic. Considering the film’s funding shortage, he believed He Qian’s mouth alone could secure plenty of investment.

Shen Yu loosened his tie slightly and flipped through the auction catalog handed by the server. It listed items and donors. Seeing a familiar name, his lips curved attractively: “He’s even willing to donate this?”

He Qian looked over. Their distance closed instantly, looking like intimate friends. Shen Yu’s finger lingered on the page where colorful lights played. The film reel on the paper resembled a coiled mosquito incense—

Zerg film reel.

Donor: Huai Shi.

Description: Zerg was shot on film, with rich colors. Intense cold-warm contrasts in blue tones, flying vehicles amid war flames, torrential rain in ruined buildings, forming scenes of light and dark interplay.

He Qian wasn’t surprised and swapped Shen Yu’s wine for white water: “Little Shen CEO, you wouldn’t get it. He’s selling nostalgia to draw fan attention, bound to trend, then funnel traffic to his new film. Works are creators’ heartblood—they always want more eyes on them.”

Over eight years, Huai Shi made eight youth films, one a year, all flops that nearly bankrupted him. After eight years away, he returned still a sci-fi director.

He Qian glanced around, confirmed no one nearby, then lowered his voice to gripe: “But gotta say, why’d this guy do artsy films? They’re fucking awful.”

Shen Yu’s slender fingers swirled the glass, watching the liquid lap the sides. Thoughtfully, he said: “But you two match well.”

He Qian instantly went on guard, face saying don’t compare us: “How? My script’s aiming for awards.”

Shen Yu smiled: “You have talent, he has resources. Isn’t your film a youth piece? Double swords uniting—you’ll explode big.”

He Qian paused. His dark eyes rolled in deep sockets. He suddenly shot up from his seat: “Little Shen CEO! Are you actually a genius?!”

Bewildered by the praise, Shen Yu looked up: “?”

Huai Shi had funds and fame. His youth films sucked, but he was big traffic. He Qian excitedly bent and hugged Shen Yu hard, then bolted upright and away: “I’m off to talk to him now!”

【Task: Rescue Protagonist Gong He Qian’s Movie Crisis, completion: 10%.】

Shen Yu raised a brow. Did that mean success?

But 10% was too low.

Top floor.

Zhou Jinsheng’s voice was deep, emotionless: “Who is that man? Tell him to leave.”