Chapter 19 Part 3

Song Shi followed his gaze. Though puzzled, he answered truthfully: “The director and screenwriter of However, However. Oddly, Shen Corporation’s funds are tight and should pull external investments immediately, but they haven’t withdrawn from this film. And when Xu Shengyang’s scandal broke, Shen Corporation didn’t withdraw capital either. It looks like—”

Song Shi paused. He wasn’t one for opinions. In past work, he stated facts without emotion, which got him his position. He keenly sensed something off.

Zhou Jinsheng asked: “Like what?”

Song Shi hesitated, then said: “It doesn’t look like just investor and investee.”

“Heh.”

Zhou Jinsheng chuckled playfully.

Song Shi kept his eyes down, nose to heart, silent.

The auction proceeded smoothly. Men and women raised glasses, bidding amid the venue.

Under flashy lights, chatting smiles emerged like jewels—unreal, like a gilded dream.

Being charity, items weren’t pricey; most sold under half a million. Unlike tense auctions, people toasted leisurely in a warm atmosphere.

Two hours later, the finale arrived.

“This lot has quite the backstory. That’s right, it’s the final installment in Director Huai Shi’s sci-fi series, the master tape of Zerg. No need for repeated decoding. According to the director himself, the master tape contains unbroadcast Easter eggs, and the negative can be preserved for a century—”

“Starting bid, one hundred thousand—”

The auctioneer’s flowery introduction instantly hyped up the atmosphere in the entire venue. Many people in the hall raised their paddles, and in no time, the bid climbed to six hundred thousand.

The auctioneer held up his small gavel and called out, “Six hundred thousand once—”

He Qian had returned midway through. Not only had he obtained Huai Shi’s contact information, but the two had also preliminarily discussed some film-related matters. It seemed pulling Huai Shi on board was just around the corner.

However, since it was a co-production, all sorts of disputes in the industry were commonplace. It never hurt to be cautious, and He Qian was something of an unknown quantity—he didn’t seem entirely reliable. Director Huai Shi himself was still a bit hesitant.

So He Qian decided to put his money where his mouth was and bid on the film negative to show his sincerity. Sure, it looked like a loss now, but once Huai Shi’s funding poured in, it would be nothing but profit.

With that, He Qian gritted his teeth and raised his paddle. “Six hundred fifty thousand—”

Suddenly, a bid came from upstairs. The voice was low and magnetic, like the vibration of an orchestra.

“Seventy thousand.”

Shen Yu followed the sound and looked up, only to see a sheet of pitch-black glass.

The night blazed brightly, but the glass blended seamlessly with the thick darkness. A few specks of light dotted the black surface, like flames burning in ink.

It appeared to be one-way glass—you could only see out from inside.

Shen Yu frowned and withdrew his gaze.

Seventy thousand was still within acceptable limits. He Qian gritted his teeth again. “Seven hundred fifty thousand—”

“Nine hundred thousand.”

Why jump so fast? Where did eight hundred go?

He Qian didn’t have time to think it over and immediately raised his paddle to follow. “One million—”

Shen Yu: “…”

Even He Qian shuddered when he heard himself shout one million. Only after the shock did he realize what he had just done. Damn, he thought to himself. Big brother upstairs, please bid higher, take it, I’m not fighting you for it. There’s no real need for me to get this thing—I’ve got other ways to show Huai Shi my sincerity.

But the guest upstairs seemed to lose interest and did not bid again.

The auctioneer regretfully withdrew his gaze and dutifully raised his small gavel. “One million once—”

“One million twice—”

The auctioneer smiled and brought down the gavel. “Zerg Film Negative, congratulations to this guest—one million, sold.”

He hadn’t even finalized the deal with Huai Shi yet, and already he’d lost one million. Even after the auction’s closing ceremony, posing for photos at the organizer’s invitation, and receiving the complimentary memorial bracelet from the staff, He Qian still felt lightheaded, unable to snap out of it.

He Qian wanted to cry but had no tears. “Little Shen CEO, lend me your shoulder. This world doesn’t feel real.”

Shen Yu unceremoniously smacked his head away with one hand. “Get lost.”

This sense of doubting the world didn’t last long. It ended the instant Shen Yu started the engine, rear-ended the car in front, and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun held by a black-clad man who stepped out from the front vehicle—

He Qian couldn’t help but start doubting himself.

The dark muzzle pressed against his forehead, and He Qian’s body instantly tensed. He didn’t dare move a muscle.

At the same time, through the glass window, over a dozen luxury cars surged in from all directions, surrounding them. No one got out, but the vigilant formation suggested they were bodyguards.

He had no idea who he’d hit, but this setup screamed someone they couldn’t afford to offend.

He Qian: “…”

Logically speaking, with this many cars escorting it, rear-ending any other vehicle shouldn’t have hit a big shot’s car. But by some stroke of bad luck, the two cars were parked side by side, and one tap of the accelerator nailed the main target.

The more He Qian thought about it, the unluckier he felt. And shouldn’t they be pointing at the driver anyway? Why point at him, the passenger?

He Qian wanted to cry but had no tears. His scalp tingled.

The big brother outside jammed the gun muzzle against his forehead again.

He Qian immediately raised his hands high above his head, cold sweat pouring down his back. Placatingly, he said, “Big brother, careful there. If that thing in your hand goes off by accident, it’ll be no good. It was all an accident—let’s talk it out nicely.”

As he begged for mercy and professed his innocence, he frantically signaled Shen Yu with his eyes to raise his hands like him.

The cold-faced man in black turned his gaze to Shen Yu as well.

His gaze paused. The hand holding the gun was steady, and a long, twisted scar like a centipede crawled up from his wrist. From head to toe, the man exuded the killing aura of someone who had seen real battle.

Shen Yu vaguely felt that this black-clad uncle looked familiar. Before he could dwell on it, under the man’s warning glare, he promptly raised both hands. His long, ink-black lashes drooped low over his eyes, and his face took on a sickly pallor.

Shen Yu’s survival instinct was strong. He immediately offered an obedient explanation. “Big brother, really sorry. I have a fever—my head wasn’t clear. It was truly an accident.”

Soon, a tall, handsome man in a crisp suit stepped out from the front car.

Song Shi walked over to Shen Yu’s side and politely tapped on the window twice. Shen Yu frowned, glanced at the gun-toting black-clad man, and saw no reaction before tentatively lowering one hand to roll down the window.

The man outside gave a slight smile, ever courteous. “Sir, hello. Our boss invites you to come over for a moment.”

Even clay figures have a bit of fire in them. Shen Yu glanced again at the menacing gun barrel, and a surge of anger welled up. He suppressed it with effort, his tone sharp. “Even if it’s about discussing compensation, is this how you invite people?”

If outsiders didn’t know better, they’d think it was a gang vendetta over a fender-bender.

Evidently not expecting Shen Yu to be so tough, Song Shi paused, lowered his eyes, and chose his words carefully. “Apologies. Our boss’s identity is rather special.”

Vigilance flashed in Shen Yu’s fine-looking eyes. “How special? Waving guns around like this—guilty conscience, maybe? If I go with you, who knows what you’ve got waiting in your car—”

007: 【Although the Host timed the crash perfectly himself—】

Shen Yu: 【But luckily, I’m not a man of fine morals.】

007: 【Host, I really have a very bad feeling about this.】

Shen Yu: 【Funny, me too.】

But Shen Yu had always believed that fortune favored the bold. Compared to stagnating in a dead-end routine, he preferred dancing on the edge of a blade, courting death to find life.

Under He Qian’s dumbfounded stare and despairing thought of “I probably won’t see tomorrow’s sun,” after Shen Yu’s verbal sparring, Song Shi fell silent for a moment before saying, “We mean no harm. Speaking of which, our boss and you, sir, are old acquaintances. It wouldn’t hurt to catch up.”

Shen Yu remained wary. As the standoff dragged on, the black-clad man’s phone rang. He answered it, received some instructions, frowned, and swiftly holstered his gun.

With the muzzle gone, He Qian let out a deep breath and slumped against the seatback, feeling like he’d come back to life.

Shen Yu had stayed calm from start to finish. Only now did he remember why this black-clad uncle looked familiar—it was Old Li.

Though they’d only met a few times, for Shen Yu, it had only been about ten days, so of course he remembered.

He just hadn’t expected that after eight years, Zhou Jinsheng still kept the man by his side.

Song Shi took in both of their reactions and made a “please” gesture. “Sir, shall we?”

Shen Yu had no reason to refuse anymore. In front of Old Li, he instructed He Qian, “If you don’t hear from me in two hours, call the cops.”

With that, Shen Yu opened the door and got out. Amid the endless lights and night, rows of oppressively imposing black cars wound around them like a coiled serpent, jaws agape, ready to ensnare any prey and crush it to death.

Shen Yu’s steps halted.

Song Shi immediately turned back, concerned. “Sir, what’s wrong?”

Shen Yu shook his head and followed behind Song Shi.

The night was cold; the night wind even colder.

Shen Yu was still running a low fever. A gust of wind made him shiver involuntarily. With his eyes downcast, he even found time in this ominous atmosphere to glance at the collision spot between the two cars.

He had controlled the force when he hit, but even so, the dent was strikingly alarming.

Shen Yu looked away and boarded the car behind Song Shi.

The interior space was spacious.

The man lightly closed his eyes, utterly composed. Dressed in a black shirt and Western pants, his lean, athletic frame stretched out like a leopard on the window-side seat.

Zhou Jinsheng rested his head back, his long legs elegantly crossed. His distinct-knuckled fingers held a cigar—lit but unsmoked. The glowing ember devoured the brown paper, birthing a warm, seductive mix of cocoa and toasted tobacco as wisps of pale smoke rose lazily.

The dim, ambiguous light fell on Zhou Jinsheng’s sharply contoured face, making it seem even more profound and serene.

A familiar yet strange face.

Shen Yu’s expression stiffened.

They said enemies saw red upon meeting, though they weren’t enemies. Eight years ago, he did owe Zhou Jinsheng, and he had indeed left without a word when Zhou Jinsheng’s life hung in the balance.

Shen Yu truly hadn’t expected to run into Zhou Jinsheng under these circumstances. His hairs stood on end; he itched to bolt before Zhou Jinsheng realized it was him.

As he thought that, his fingers had already quietly moved to the door button. He pressed down, but the door didn’t open as expected.

Seeing the locked door, Shen Yu frowned and instantly realized—nice one, it was locked.

Shen Yu immediately looked up at Song Shi, who promptly averted his gaze.

“…”

Shen Yu tried pressing it a couple more times, unconvinced.

“Heh.”

Shen Yu turned—

His fingers froze.

He crashed into those eyes once more.

Just like many years ago, so many years ago—longer than youth, longer than time itself.

The first time Shen Yu had stumbled into this world in a daze, under the crisscrossing lights of revelry, the man stood at the center of the stairs, surrounded by admirers, looking down at the masses like dust beneath his feet.

The difference was, across that uncrossable distance, the Shen Yu of back then couldn’t see or make out his eyes. But this time, he clearly saw the terrifying beings housed in those eyes that belonged solely to one who stood above all.

They came from the abyss, from the wasteland, ravenous for flesh.

The youthful arrogance tinged with innocence and wildness had vanished entirely, shed away, transformed into the inherent authority of the powerful—profound and imposing without a word.

Shen Yu’s heart plummeted to the depths. His back tensed, trembling faintly.