Chapter 33

“Buzz buzz, buzz buzz, buzz buzz—”

The high-frequency phone vibration echoed through the empty, dark room. It buzzed for a full half minute before finally stopping, fell silent for two or three seconds, then started buzzing relentlessly again. After going back and forth four or five times, it finally caught the attention of the person in the room.

A hand with distinct knuckles slowly extended from the darkness.

The man who had been sleeping on the sofa was woken by the vibration. He picked up the phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing.

The moment the call connected, Chi Xianli’s voice roared out from the receiver: “Fuck, Zhou Jinsheng, what the hell are you doing?! That lunatic Zhou Yaoshu has popped up out of nowhere again, and now you’re pulling this shit—sealing the city and mobilizing the police and fire teams? Do you know how many people are watching for you to fuck up over Cat Ear Island!”

Zhou Jinsheng rubbed his brow and corrected him: “Cathead Island.”

“I don’t give a damn whether it’s Cathead Island or Cat Ear Island. What the fuck is going on in your head, Zhou Jinsheng? You really don’t care about what happened before? He vanished without a trace back then—do you really expect him to have any real loyalty to you now?”

Chi Xianli viciously stubbed out his cigarette, wishing he could crawl out of the phone and beat the guy senseless: “Don’t forget how you clawed your way back up back then. To get the old man on your side, I fucking joined the troops the second I said I would. Back then, so many people could step on you— even those idiots from the Lin family dared to mock you right in front of me. Do you know what people were saying about you? Fuck, fake-ass concern about you being broke and unable to afford food, offering to lend you money and all that shit.”

“Hahaha, fuck them— who the hell were they looking down on? Zhou Jinsheng, you know how bad I wanted to slam that bunch into the table and kill them right there? Good thing I held back, or I wouldn’t have gotten to see you personally fuck them over later—”

“So what the fuck is this now? You suddenly losing your mind and throwing everything away? At a time like this, can you just calm the hell down?!”

“I’m very calm.”

Zhou Jinsheng lowered his gaze: “Xianli, I’ve never been this calm. If Zhou Yaoshu finds Shen Yu before I do, I don’t know what I’ll do. You know he’s not exactly normal.”

The man pulled a cigarette from the pack and stuck it in his mouth, but he didn’t light it or smoke it. His teeth clamped down on the filter, tearing the paper, and the faint taste of tobacco spread across his tongue. He chewed on the cigarette as he thought for a moment:

“Maybe I really would go crazy.”

Chi Xianli choked, his expression shifting through a rich array of changes like Sichuan opera face-changing. After a moment of silence, he cursed: “Fuck, one after another—I really can’t deal with you people.”

Zhou Jinsheng leaned his head back against the sofa, his ink-black eyes staring straight at the ceiling, betraying no emotion whatsoever. He said: “Right, pick a few people from the troops. Send them over once the target’s found—experienced ones.”

Chi Xianli frowned: “Old Li not enough?”

“The Zhou Family doesn’t breed two kinds of people. Zhou Yaoshu can’t touch me directly, so he’ll definitely try to find a breakthrough through Shen Yu.”

The Zhou Corporation was a massive entity with sprawling branches. During the era of war and chaos, some collateral lines had scattered overseas, but after all these years of development, they had long since cut ties with the main family.

They should have had no connection, but for some reason, Zhou Yaoshu had suddenly linked up with that line and pulled some strings. Now those shady elements all wanted a piece of the Zhou Corporation, trying to get a cut.

Zhou Yaoshu was like a gloomy venomous snake, unscrupulous and ruthless. The slightest carelessness, and he’d lunge out for a bite. Back during the power struggle in the Zhou Corporation, they’d nearly fallen into his traps several times.

Chi Xianli frowned, took a drag from his cigarette, and replied: “Got it.”

[Host, the two mountains next to you are on fire!]

It was deep into the night, with heavy dew and biting cold.

Shen Yu was woken by 007. When he realized what 007 had said, he clearly froze for a moment.

On fire?

How could it suddenly catch fire?

And right on the two mountains next to him?

Shen Yu had deliberately pitched his tent on the leeward side of the hill. He shrugged on his jacket, grabbed a small flashlight from his bag, twisted it on, and stepped out of the tent. The night’s chill only slightly seeped into his skin.

Shen Yu suddenly halted, standing outside the tent in hesitation for a moment before crawling back inside to stuff the phone—which he’d been using as a brick since turning it off—into his pocket.

Once everything was sorted, Shen Yu pushed down the unease in his heart, turned on the small flashlight, and shone its faint beam ahead in a triangular patch of light.

His heart uneasy, he followed the anti-lost markers he’d made on the trees during the day and made his way to the windward side. The windward side brought a sharper chill, and Shen Yu couldn’t help but sneeze.

His pupils contracted. In the flickering firelight, the hand gripping the flashlight nearly slipped.

The sky was a hazy smoky blue, on the cusp of dawn but not yet bright. The distant city hadn’t fully woken, with only sporadic clusters of twinkling lights. Toward the sea, they vanished entirely.

Beyond the sea, at the base of the two connected mountains, lay a fertile alluvial plain. Scattered black dots moved across the lush green grassland, and the firelight emanated from there, devouring upward—

The fire line was like a massive serpent clad in scales of flame, growing fiercer with the wind, surging forward menacingly as it coiled and spread. At this rate, it would soon reach the mountain he was on!

If he hadn’t seen those black dots at the mountain base, Shen Yu could have told himself it was an accident—that no matter how outrageous Zhou Jinsheng was, he wouldn’t set a mountain ablaze.

The mountains were connected; one slip-up, and Zhou Mansion might go up in flames.

But now the facts were right before his eyes.

“Incredible” was too mild a word for Shen Yu’s current mood.

He stood frozen in place for a full ten seconds. With a hiss, the small flashlight’s weak beam flickered out—battery dead.

“Buzz buzz buzz—”

Shen Yu looked up at the sound, peering through the thick gaps in the tree canopy.

Over a dozen private helicopters circled low in the saturated smoky-blue sky, occasionally sweeping down straight beams of searchlights. The spotlights worked in open flat areas, but their effect dropped sharply in the dense, cloud-like canopy.

Several times, the beams pierced through gaps in the trees, dazzling Shen Yu’s eyes, but they didn’t spot him. He breathed a sigh of relief.

The massive fire spread faster in his view. Shen Yu hurriedly pulled out his phone from his pocket. Signal was poor in the mountains, so he ran uphill until bars finally appeared.

The last message was the photo he’d sent. True to form, Zhou Jinsheng had read it but not replied. Shen Yu took a quick glance—still handsome as ever—before remembering the matter at hand.

He typed out a mocking message:

[That’s it?]

The mountain trees swayed wildly in the downdraft from the helicopters. Ignoring the cold, Shen Yu took off his jacket and tied it around his slim waist, leaving him in just a form-fitting black tank top for easier movement. He narrowed his eyes, gauging the distance to the bay.

Just then, a searchlight beam suddenly pierced through, locking straight onto him.

Shen Yu’s body stiffened. He’d thought this beam would sweep past like the others, but when he shifted left, the light followed left; right, and it tracked right.

Shen Yu: “…”

He tossed the phone aside and bolted, but a gunshot cracked overhead—a warning shot. An icy announcement echoed from the loudspeaker atop the mountain.

“Position locked. Sniper ready. Please do not move.”

Shen Yu: “…”

No wonder his forehead had felt cold—someone had a gun trained on him from afar.

Shen Yu behaved himself.

Soon, someone descended from a helicopter. Shen Yu stood silently in place. Hearing movement in the underbrush, he subtly reached back to his waist, fingers brushing the cold grip of his gun.

He didn’t know how many people Zhou Jinsheng would bring. Hopefully no more than five—his gun had five rounds left. If things went smoothly, one shot per leg, then he’d take Zhou Jinsheng hostage, force the others to lower their weapons, demand a car, and escape scot-free.

Shen Yu looked up, his vigilant expression shifting to mild confusion.

It wasn’t the swarm of black-suited tough guys he’d imagined. From the darkness emerged a single figure: Zhou Jinsheng in a long black trench coat.

He approached, the night seeming to peel away from him.

The man’s steps were steady, closing in step by step, his cold, profound aura instantly pressing down on Shen Yu.

Zhou Jinsheng’s gaze traveled from Shen Yu’s messy hair to his cheeks reddened by cold, to his bare arms and the jacket tied at his waist, then to his somewhat wrinkled pants.

A bit disheveled, but intact and unharmed.

Zhou Jinsheng let out a breath of relief. He reached out, plucked a dry leaf from Shen Yu’s tousled hair, and after a thousand words condensed into one: “Let’s go.”

Shen Yu put on a fierce front while inwardly weak: “Where to?”

Zhou Jinsheng shrugged off his coat and draped it over Shen Yu. In Shen Yu’s dazed gaze, he pressed the back of his hand to Shen Yu’s forehead, confirmed his temperature was normal, then withdrew it.

The mountain air was frigid; their breath turned to white mist. Through the drifting fog, Shen Yu suddenly caught Zhou Jinsheng’s complex, profound gaze—like twin abyssal pools or vast, desolate snow mountains on the verge of collapse.

Shen Yu froze.

He widened his eyes, trying to peer deeper into Zhou Jinsheng’s thoughts through those eyes, but the look vanished in a flash, like an illusion.

It wasn’t an illusion.

Zhou Jinsheng pulled Shen Yu into his embrace. Warmth unique to a mature man emanated from his shoulder, dispelling the chill on Shen Yu’s skin.

Zhou Jinsheng answered him: “Home.”

Home?

A strange feeling stirred in Shen Yu’s heart. Still mulling over that earlier expression, his mouth refused on reflex: “I refuse.”

The deep night wind blew in gusts, their body heat intertwining. Zhou Jinsheng tightened his arms, his voice low: “Did I give you the right to refuse?”

“…”

That version of Zhou Jinsheng who’d seemed on the brink of collapse really had been an illusion!

Shen Yu fell silent. Zhou Jinsheng watched him quietly.

The wind tousled their hair, their warmth entangled in the cold. The man’s lashes lowered as he sighed softly: “Not home, then where?”

Shen Yu had only spoken rashly and didn’t know how to answer now. He pursed his lips, at a loss for words.

So Zhou Jinsheng asked again: “Home, okay?”

“…Okay.” Shen Yu immediately took the out. He glanced around and suddenly asked in confusion: “But how come you came down alone? Not afraid I’ll do something?”

No sooner had he spoken than a vast crowd surged in from all directions.

Familiar faces mixed with strangers, but all looked fierce enough to punch out three kids with one fist.

Shen Yu: “…”

Careless.

The helicopter circled overhead, trees swaying in the wind. Under guidance, it landed on a nearby open flat. The two boarded one after another.

As the helicopter took off, Shen Yu huddled under a fluffy blanket, his gaze drifting to the window. The mountain base had returned to calm, with only wisps of smoke rising—the fire long extinguished.

Shen Yu withdrew his gaze, took a sip of hot water, and felt a wave of warmth spread through his stomach. He immediately scrapped the idea of living like a wild man in the mountains for a year.

Zhou Jinsheng reached over, carefully tucking the blanket around him, head bowed as he handled urgent documents.

Underneath, he wore a form-fitting black turtleneck sweater. Without the coat, even the layer of aloof nobility shed away, revealing his innate ferocity and savagery. His physique was athletic, with large muscle blocks flowing in smooth, mountainous curves.

For now, those muscles lay dormant, like beasts lurking in the depths.

Only Shen Yu, who had experienced it firsthand, knew how ferocious those muscles could be—capable of crushing him—yet how encompassing, drawing him in time and again despite his instinctive resistance.

Shen Yu cradled the hot water and suddenly called out: “Zhou Jinsheng…”

The helicopter was noisy to begin with, and Shen Yu’s voice wasn’t loud. Zhou Jinsheng didn’t catch it.

The man rubbed his brow, extricated himself from the stack of documents, leaned close to Shen Yu, tilted his head, and lowered his lashes attentively to listen.

Shen Yu leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek.