Chapter 31

The entire terrace was covered in traces of fierce fighting, with potted plants scattered all over the ground.

He tilted his head to dodge Shen Yu’s vicious sweeping kick. The sharp wind whistled past his body. Yu Tingsi hadn’t expected Shen Yu to move so quickly. He frowned, quickly got up, drew his gun, and aimed it at Shen Yu.

It was as if Shen Yu had anticipated his move. He lifted his leg again and swiftly struck toward the man’s wrist. Intense pain shot through his wrist, numbing Yu Tingsi’s hand. The gun flew out instantly.

Clatter.

Shen Yu seized the moment, grabbed the man’s shoulder, and drove his knee into Yu Tingsi’s abdomen, quickly pinning him to the ground.

The cold wind lifted his black hair. Shen Yu raised an eyebrow. Just before Yu Tingsi could reach for the gun, he snatched it up from the floor. His long fingers hooked the trigger, spinning the gun once before it settled steadily back into his palm.

Click. The crisp sound of chambering a round.

The next second, the cold barrel pressed against Yu Tingsi’s forehead.

Shen Yu curled his lips. “You underestimated me.”

Yu Tingsi’s pupils contracted. He silently lowered his head.

“I don’t like blowing people’s heads off.” Shen Yu shifted the gun downward.

He wasn’t one to drag things out. He aimed at Yu Tingsi’s chest and pulled the trigger. The bullet left the chamber—

No gunshot rang out. The bullet thudded into flesh with a ripping sound like tearing silk. Yu Tingsi’s upper body tensed like a trapped beast, then heaved violently before exploding outward like an overinflated balloon suddenly deflating, collapsing flat.

Almost merging with the ground.

He was tough.

Though the bullet had deliberately missed the heart by a few millimeters—enough to convince anyone it was fatal without truly killing—the agony of near-death was excruciating.

Shen Yu reached out and fished the key from Yu Tingsi’s pants pocket. He inserted it into the lock. Click. The shackles came off.

After confirming Yu Tingsi had no strength to resist, Shen Yu stood up. He lowered his eyelashes and counted the remaining bullets.

Six rounds total, one used, five left.

Shen Yu tucked the gun into the back of his waistband. His gaze swept across the terrace, like a ruthless heartbreaker. He reached out and plucked the orchid that had been friendly with him moments ago.

He twisted the three white petals into a thin strip and placed it in the center of the table—two symmetrical ones laid horizontally on top, the bottom one positioned in the middle below them, the right one curved mockingly downward.

A highly provocative middle-finger gesture.

Shen Yu pressed the chain over it to secure it against the wind, then clapped his hands, very satisfied with his creation.

He glanced back at Yu Tingsi. Blood gushed from the wound, staining his white shirt completely red. The man hung his head low, his face pale from blood loss, his hair covering his eyes. He didn’t look at Shen Yu.

Many years ago, the twelve- or thirteen-year-old Yu Tingsi had been knocked down by him and lay on the ground just like this. The difference was that those sparkling eyes had glared at him fiercely back then, while countless people had eagerly reached out to help him up.

Shen Yu lowered his gaze. “Thanks.”

The last words scattered in the wind.

In the pitch-black night, Shen Yu braced his hands on the terrace railing and vaulted down gracefully. His foot landed on the lawn. He clapped his hands and casually plucked an Autumn Begonia from overhead in the darkness, slipping it into his pocket.

Like a sleek black cat, he melted into the deep shadows of the courtyard and soon vanished without a trace.

Zhou Corporation’s conical skyscraper pierced the clouds like a massive sword thrust from the ground—the tallest building in Shang Capital City, inspiring awe and fear.

At that moment, on the top floor, the entire office was shrouded in an invisible, heavy gloom. Everyone kept their heads down, trembling, not daring to utter a word.

Once the surveillance footage finished playing, the silence was deafening enough to hear a pin drop.

“At 10:03, Mr. Shen disappeared. This is the only footage captured. Mr. Shen is very familiar with the blind spots in the surveillance; he avoided nearly all cameras in the estate. We’ve already tasked people with tracking footage from major exits. No sign at the cableway, port, or mountain base checkpoints. He likely descended the back mountain and escaped by water.”

Zhou Jinsheng was silent for a long time. He closed his eyes, his voice hoarse. “Was he injured?”

Song Shi’s face remained expressionless. “…From the current footage, Mr. Shen wasn’t injured.”

Zhou Jinsheng frowned.

A moment later, he asked again, “What about Yu Tingsi?”

Song Shi replied, “When found, he had lost too much blood. The bullet grazed his heart. He’s still in emergency surgery.”

Grazed his heart?

Zhou Jinsheng’s face darkened like still water. “Send Chen Jinyang over with a team of interrogators. Use any method necessary. I don’t care if he’s alive or dead—pry his mouth open within three days.”

“Any other clues?”

“This is—” Song Shi paused, then said, “What Mr. Shen left at the scene.”

Song Shi pressed the remote, switching to the final photo.

Three thin white petals pinned under a golden chain formed a provocative expression. The others in the room glanced at the arrogant gesture, shrinking into themselves, holding their breaths to minimize their presence.

Zhou Jinsheng narrowed his eyes and stared at it for a while.

A moment later, the man loosened his tie, half-closed his eyes, and spoke coldly. “Declare a citywide emergency lockdown in Shang Capital City. Zhou Corporation will bear full responsibility for all subsequent losses.”

A city lockdown??

Song Shi’s mind reeled with shock. He blurted out in alarm, “BOSS…”

Zhou Jinsheng shot him a glance. “What, you think I’m being irrational?”

Song Shi fell silent.

Zhou Jinsheng’s voice turned icy. “Get out.”

Song Shi scrammed promptly. Outside the office door, cold sweat drenched his back. He exhaled heavily in relief.

Zhou Yaoshu had made a comeback, and Shen Yu’s disappearance happened at this critical juncture. Anyone would suspect foul play.

A chill settled in Song Shi’s heart, heavy as a stone.

Song Shi arrived at the next floor with the documents. This floor housed Zhou Corporation’s External Propaganda Department, responsible for monitoring, analyzing, and steering public opinion. The head was Chen Miaomiao.

Song Shi handed over the files. “Use TV, radio, social media—all channels—to announce a citywide emergency lockdown for the entire Shangjing area. Strictly screen all personnel movement and access.”

Chen Miaomiao’s delicate eyebrows shot up in surprise, her red lips sharpening. “Wait, what are you saying? You can’t just lock down a city on a whim.”

“BOSS’s orders.”

Chen Miaomiao’s composed expression nearly cracked. She cursed under her breath, grabbed her phone nearby, and started making calls.

The city instantly raised its alert lines. Police deployed to every exit, imposing strict traffic controls. From airports and high-speed rail down to subways and buses, all public transport was tightly sealed, forming a dense surveillance net. Not even a speck of dust could fall without being pinpointed.

But two days passed with no sign.

In this oppressive atmosphere, everyone at Zhou Corporation felt on edge, realizing money was hard-earned and shit was hard to swallow.

Golden sunlight filtered through the leaf gaps. Bright red persimmons hung heavily from the branches. A hand parted the foliage, twisted a wrist, and plucked a plump, tempting persimmon.

Shen Yu took a bite, only to grimace at the sourness the next second. He spat out the fruit, jumped down from the trunk. His upper body was bare. He stretched lazily, then grabbed a nearby sweater that had been drying and pulled it on.

On the first night of his escape, he hadn’t headed straight down the mountain as others assumed. Instead, he crossed from one mountain to another.

Midway, he passed a forest ranger’s cabin. Times had changed; the wooden hut lay abandoned for years, with only a bed and some leftover, rusted tools.

Shen Yu sharpened the rusty knife on a stone, chopped some bamboo, made a simple fish spear, and built a raft.

Two days had passed. The search radius had expanded outward, making searched areas the safest.

Shen Yu secured the bamboo raft and stepped aboard steadily.

The raft drifted wildly down the rapids. He didn’t know how long it floated until the sky faded from bright white to dim yellow. Shen Yu stopped above a small waterfall.

He dragged the raft ashore. Hearing faint voices in the distance, his sharp ears perked up. He raised an eyebrow and looked over. Below the waterfall, a group of men and women in outdoor gear passed by, backs laden with equipment.

They chatted and laughed—likely a camping tour group.

Looking closer, they were young people, full of energy. Their travel bags bore what looked like school badges—probably university students.

University students?

Easy to fool.

Shen Yu concluded.

Once they set up camp, he circled down a nearby slope.

Shen Yu mussed his hair and pretended to be a stranded hiker seeking help. The group was immediately welcoming, offering hot water, towels, and food.

After thanking them and smiling as he accepted, Shen Yu said he wanted to borrow a phone to check in with family. They readily agreed and handed over their phones.

The mountain signal was poor. Following the System’s prompt, Shen Yu entered He Qian’s number, smiled apologetically, and stepped aside. He didn’t call but sent a location, then deleted the message.

Shen Yu returned the phone and told them his family was on the way, so he needed to head down the mountain first. He bid them farewell.

Deep into the night, a large truck rumbled up, its harsh headlights piercing the darkness. It braked heavily at the roadside. A sneaky figure jumped down.

He Qian looked around warily, ears perked. Finally, he spotted Shen Yu leaning casually against the roadside, arms crossed.

The man had long limbs, relaxed posture, wearing a black sweater with a wide-open collar that exposed his snowy shoulder and neck. His expression was coolly indifferent.

Wow, no wonder he’s Little Shen CEO—even in dire straits, he’s this charismatic.

He Qian mentally gave a thumbs-up and hurried over in big strides, calling out in a shrill voice, “Little Shen CEO~”

Shen Yu broke out in goosebumps and lifted his eyelids to look at the newcomer.

He Qian wore a fully enclosing black coat, a black baseball cap, black sunglasses, and a mask, covering his face completely. He might as well have “I’m suspicious, come catch me!” tattooed on his forehead.

Shen Yu said, “…Act normal.”

Sensing the disdain, He Qian scratched his head. “This is a secret rendezvous, right? Better safe than sorry.”

“In this wilderness, does Zhou Jinsheng have a supernatural ability to control plants and animals?” Shen Yu extended his hand. “Did you bring the stuff?”

“Who knows, maybe he does. Anyway, no more chit-chat—I’ve got you covered. It’s all in the truck.”

He Qian opened the truck and shone his phone’s flashlight inside. In the middle of the cargo hold sat a sleek black motorcycle, with fluid lines, sci-fi vibes, and a flowing dark sheen—flashy as could be.

Shen Yu slammed the door shut with a bang and changed into the clothes nearby.

He packed up, opened the door, swung his long leg over, inserted the key, and revved the bike out of the truck with a roar.

The motorcycle shot forward like a meteor for over ten meters, then executed a flashy drift, sparks flying from the ground as it screeched to a stop in front of He Qian.

Dust and gravel pelted He Qian’s mask and sunglasses. He silently wiped it off, and Shen Yu’s figure came into view.

Shen Yu wore a fitted black tank top that outlined his sculpted muscles. His exposed arms showed smooth, flowing lines, paired with matching leather gloves. Below were leather pants and cool Martin boots. His vibe was cold and wild—a perfect rebel youth.

Even through his sunglasses, He Qian was dazzled.

He raised a paw in genuine confusion. “Little Shen CEO, do we really have to be this flashy?”

Cool, sure, but could he show a little “fugitive” awareness?!

“You know why the Wiki Team always wins?”

The topic shifted abruptly. He Qian blinked, caught off guard. “Why?”

Shen Yu recalled something and suddenly smirked. “Because their opponents can’t stop staring at their blue-and-white striped uniforms.”

With those final words, Shen Yu floored the accelerator. The bike roared and vanished into the darkness, leaving He Qian with a face full of exhaust.

He Qian watched him disappear in an instant—that speed was insane, like he didn’t care if he lived. No wonder he triggered a full city lockdown!

So badass!

Night lights flickered amid the neon glow as Song Shi reported softly to Zhou Jinsheng: “We’ve thoroughly checked the registration information and surveillance footage from nearby hotels, supermarkets, inns, and similar places. There were no related records or images at all.”

This was simply unbelievable. Under the Zhou Corporation’s blockade, not even a fly could have escaped. Song Shi frowned and guessed, “Could Mr. Shen have already slipped out of Shangjing amid the chaos?”

“Impossible. He didn’t have time.”

To be honest, Zhou Jinsheng had never expected Shen Yu to be such a good runner—especially at a time like this. If Zhou Yaoshu had gotten ahead of him—

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his gaze. He didn’t dare think about it.

The man’s fingers trembled almost imperceptibly. He slightly closed his eyelids, preventing anyone from reading his emotions. His voice turned cold: “Compile a complete personal profile on Shen Yu, covering every detail of his life from birth until now. Make sure it’s clear and thorough.”

Song Shi lowered his gaze. “Yes.”

“Starting tonight, screen everything again.”