Chapter 32

The shower turned off, and the sound of rushing hot water ceased amid the lingering steam.

A naked silhouette emerged from the foggy glass mirror. Shen Yu exhaled a breath of hot air, grabbed a towel and wiped himself down casually, then slung the bath towel over his shoulders and strode out of the bathroom.

The temperature outside the bathroom was cooler, and the moisture on his skin condensed into glistening trails that rose and fell with his breaths, flowing into the deep grooves of his back muscles like streams converging in a valley.

Shen Yu yawned and shuffled straight to the floor-to-ceiling window in his slippers. He raised an arm, slicked back his wet hair, and revealed his full forehead and sharp brows and eyes.

His eyes were narrow and almond-shaped like peach blossoms—sparkling with light when he smiled, breathtakingly beautiful. But once the amusement faded from them, all the softness and tenderness vanished, leaving them sharp and piercing.

The slightly tinted one-way glass offered a clear view outside. At this hour, lights flickered on in homes across the city.

It was the liveliest time of day.

Down on the street, people bustled about in groups of three or five—some out shopping with family, others hanging with friends, or on dates with lovers. Strangely, as Shen Yu scanned the scene, not a single person appeared to be alone.

The corner of Shen Yu’s mouth twitched. His gaze continued downward, searching, until he finally spotted a lone man standing under a streetlamp.

Shen Yu narrowed his eyes, feeling a deep sense of relief. See? He wasn’t the only one flying solo.

Being single was the norm, after all.

Shen Yu nodded in satisfaction and was about to look away when the man in his view suddenly stirred and stepped out from the streetlamp’s yellow glow.

Shen Yu frowned and paused, following with his eyes.

A beautiful long-haired woman in a professional skirt suit pushed through the revolving door of a building. The man spotted her and hurried forward several steps, arms flung wide open. The woman threw herself into his embrace like a weary bird returning to its nest.

The pair hugged tightly. Perhaps it had been a while since they’d seen each other, because they soon kissed passionately, oblivious to everyone around them.

Shen Yu: “…”

His mother tongue was speechless.

Shen Yu felt a bit down. He’d been dodging and hiding these past few days, trying to play it cool, but it wasn’t easy. That couple down on the street made out for a full half-minute, then huddled together whispering sweet nothings, their faces beaming with happiness.

Finally, they walked off hand in hand, blissfully content.

“…”

Shen Yu’s gloom hit its peak. He thought of the culprit behind all this.

Who was to blame for this? Who?

Without a second thought, Shen Yu grabbed the new phone He Qian had given him, held it up to snap a selfie, and pulled a mocking grimace at the camera—one hand tugging at the corner of his eye, tongue sticking out.

Click.

One perfect shot.

Shen Yu checked the phone and sent off the full-sneer ghost-face photo.

007: 【…Host, what are you doing?】

【Pissing him off.】

He just loved seeing Zhou Jinsheng frantic but unable to catch him.

Shen Yu rubbed his chin, suddenly realizing he had a bit of a wicked streak himself.

It was all Zhou Jinsheng’s fault—he’d picked up the habit from him.

The doorbell rang.

The attendant’s apologetic voice came from outside: “Sir, we’re terribly sorry, but per instructions from above, we need to re-verify your check-in information. Are you available now?”

Re-verify check-in info?

Shen Yu closed his phone and altered his voice slightly to reply: “No need. I’m checking out tonight.”

“Sir, our apologies, but even check-outs require re-verification now.”

Shen Yu yanked off the bath towel and moved swiftly around the room, snatching a tank top and leather pants from the sofa back and pulling them on. He stuffed all his purchases into the hiking backpack in one go.

Keeping his voice steady, he said: “Fine. I just got out of the shower. Go check other rooms first and come back in ten minutes.”

“Understood, sir. We apologize for the inconvenience. Next time you stay with us, we can offer a free room upgrade.”

“Sure.”

A moment later, Shen Yu pressed his ear to the wall by the door, waiting until the footsteps faded away. Then he straightened his clothes and opened the door with calm composure, walking out.

Shen Yu strode boldly through the hotel lobby, swung a long leg over his motorcycle, and roared off in a flashy blur of man and machine.

The city stirred awake under the faint daylight. The stark outlines of the mountain ranges sharpened in view, and at their base sat a sleek black motorcycle.

Back where he came from, just like that.

Shen Yu removed his helmet, ruffled his hair, and hefted the weight of his backpack.

This time was different—he was stocked up. With his wilderness survival skills, he might actually last a year as a mountain hermit.

The most dangerous place really was the safest.

Fragrant Mountain Mansion, top floor.

As dusk fell, the night sky cascaded like shooting stars into the rippling sea of city lights, ushering in murky darkness. Ground lights illuminated the mountains, and where they met the sea, the city’s glow twinkled in response. All of Shang Capital City lay below like a tiny puzzle piece.

Zhou Jinsheng stood on the top floor, night winds swirling around him, the tip of his cigar glowing crimson.

Smoke rose lazily from the burning cigar like mist. The man’s face remained expressionless as he silently gazed at the world below. He was so high up that the crowds appeared as mere specks.

How many days had it been?

Even Zhou Jinsheng himself began to doubt his initial judgment. Maybe Shen Yu had left Shangjing from the start.

Zhou Jinsheng fell silent. For some reason, he suddenly craved a smoke.

His phone, quiet for so long, buzzed suddenly.

Zhou Jinsheng paused.

A bit of ash trembled from the cigar and scattered on the ground, carried away by the wind.

He opened his phone. The last message was from five days ago. He tapped it, and in the center of the screen, a circle spun as the photo loaded.

The shot was taken from above. Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze fixed on Shen Yu’s ridiculously cute expression, lingering for a moment before drifting lower.

The man in the photo had clearly just showered, with only a bath towel draped loosely over his back. The angle captured his shoulder and neck downward: pink nipples atop soft, full pecs; a narrow waist and abdomen packed with explosive power; cool-toned muscles still steaming with heat; clear veins snaking down his lower abs, trailing off abruptly—

And stopping there.

Zhou Jinsheng felt a fire ignite in his chest.

His fingers tightened, nearly snapping the phone in his grip. He stared at the photo, quickly regaining his calm, then pulled another cigar from the pack.

Song Shi immediately lit it for him with utmost respect.

The flame danced, illuminating the man’s emotionless profile.

If Shen Yu was sending messages, odds were nine-to-one he hadn’t left Shangjing yet.

Zhou Jinsheng pieced it together quickly. He opened the photo again and noticed a black corner in the background—like part of a bag or case—with a white logo that looked like a sports brand mark.

Sports brand?

Something clicked in Zhou Jinsheng’s mind.

He looked up abruptly, his dark, misty eyes deepening.

He asked Song Shi: “What was Derman Academy’s special graduation requirement?”

Song Shi had recently compiled detailed intel on Shen Yu—down to the minutiae, like his first bedwetting incident, first time yanking a girl’s pigtails, and first confession. Naturally, he knew Shen Yu had attended Derman Academy for high school.

Song Shi furrowed his brow in brief recollection before replying carefully: “Derman Academy has a unique graduation challenge each year. If the whole class completes it, the principal has to jump into the water naked in front of all the graduates. Failing it doesn’t affect graduation.”

“Derman backs onto mountains and faces the sea. The school always emphasized physical education. That year, the principal was a mountain biking fanatic and required students to ride mountain bikes across the entire rear mountain range.”

Zhou Jinsheng asked: “Did they all complete it?”

“All of them.” A bunch of freshly adult boys, out for revenge on the principal before graduation, got all hot-blooded. No task was too tough, no mountains too impassable—they charged right through, brimming with youthful vigor.

Even Song Shi had felt moved reading those records, touched by such fervent youth.

So vibrant, so spectacular, so unlike his own life of eternal wage slavery.

Song Shi pulled his thoughts back. “The principal’s naked plunge even made the daily news headlines.”

Zhou Jinsheng had stayed silent since Song Shi began.

Oddly, his first thought wasn’t dragging Shen Yu out immediately—it was regret. Regret that he hadn’t been part of that blazing, brilliant chapter of Shen Yu’s youth.

Only when the flame burned down to his skin did Zhou Jinsheng snap back.

He chuckled dryly, lowered his gaze, and asked Song Shi: “Who led it?”

“A group from the third-year climbing club. After Mr. Shen returned from exchange, he joined them too—”

Song Shi paused as realization hit. It all clicked.

Damn, no wonder sealing off all of Shang Capital City turned up nothing—Shen Yu wasn’t in the urban area at all!

“Heh.”

Zhou Jinsheng’s lips curved in a faint laugh—so light, so weightless, yet it sent an inexplicable chill through Song Shi.

Song Shi gauged his mood and ventured: “You mean… search the mountains?”

The ranges were rugged and remote, thick with trees blocking surveillance, and perfect for hiding. Mounting a search would be a massive drain on time and manpower.

But who was Song Shi? Song the all-capable assistant. Even if Zhou Jinsheng wanted Shen Yu diced into pieces, he’d hand over the knife without hesitation—sharpened with glee against the man who kept making him work overtime.

Shen Yu: …No need for that.

Though their boss probably wouldn’t go that far, Song Shi figured.

“Ha—” Zhou Jinsheng rubbed his brow wearily and stared into the distance.

Thanks to Shangjing’s prime geography, mountains and sea met far off, jagged peaks standing sentinel in the quiet night, rolling like a natural barrier.

“No.”

Song Shi looked at him in surprise. Gale-force winds atop the building whipped the man’s black coat into a flapping frenzy, his profile sharper and colder than Snow Mountain itself.

“Searching the mountains would take too long.”

Zhou Jinsheng parted his lips in a sigh-like murmur, then narrowed his eyes and viciously ground the cigar out in his palm.

“Once we confirm which mountain he’s entered, prepare rescue measures. I’ll go in after him. Then, just burn the two adjacent peaks.”