In a rare turn of events, Ji Jue suffered from insomnia.
The high-quality sleep where he usually lost consciousness the second he closed his eyes had vanished into thin air. Throughout the night, he drifted in and out of fitful dreams, all of them violent hunting scenes straight out of a wildlife documentary.
Wolves, bears, tigers, leopards, anacondas, giant pythons—suddenly lunging before his eyes, snapping their bloody maws, biting down, and refining their prey in an instant.
How could a little white rabbit like Ji Jue have ever witnessed such cruelty? He jolted awake in fright every single time.
After waking up terrified several times, he simply gave up on sleeping in a fit of frustration.
Crawling out of the hotel bed, he clicked on the desk lamp.
Fetching paper and pen, he set straight to writing a thesis he had already drafted in his mind along the journey—*A Brief Discussion on Six Methods of Handling Impurities and Contamination During the Spiritus Purification Stage of Blood-Sacrifice Weapons*!
Since he couldn't sleep anyway, he might as well out-grind everyone else.
At the very least, he would make sure others couldn't sleep either!
Besides, these were all stepping stones along his academic path. Which master wasn't an author of prolific works?
Before becoming a craftsman, an apprentice only had to figure out how to out-compete other apprentices to earn their basic human rights certificate. But once an artisan, one was grinding against every craftsman across the entire world.
Let the world feel pain!
First, sprinkle two packs of salt over a certain flopping salted fish of a senior sister—*jie-jie-jie*!
Just imagining Ye Chun rolling around on the couch wailing, Ji Jue couldn't help bursting into laughter.
Until seven in the morning, when the doorbell chimed.
*Ding-dong.*
Opening the door, Ji Jue instantly stopped laughing.
Stunned, his voice caught in his throat:
"Why are you here?"
Outside the door stood Ye Chun, practically radiating resentment.
Overnight, she had charged all the way from Yacheng to Chaocheng, right to Ji Jue's doorstep.
For a moment, a chill ran down Ji Jue's spine—*Oh no. Has she been ground down by me so much that she's developed a salted fish sixth sense?*
What was this? *The cicada senses autumn wind before it even blows?*
At that moment, hearing Ji Jue's words, Ye Chun's gaze grew even more dangerous.
"Have you forgotten that I'm still the general manager's secretary taking the fall for someone?"
She raised a hand and deadpanned as she slid off her plain-glass spectacles, revealing two dark circles under her eyes that could barely be concealed. "Furthermore, before a certain general manager went off driving like a lunatic and vanished without a trace, he dumped every single bit of his workload onto me...
"And then?
"After I busted my ass day and night for so long, he actually has the nerve to ask me: *Ye Chun, why are you here?*
"Ji Jue, if you had an ounce of basic human decency left in you, you wouldn't be barking like such a shameless dog, got it?!"
"Ah... well..."
Ji Jue broke into a cold sweat instantly, plastering on a fawning grin. "No, no, didn't you have a hard journey? Coming all this way... my fault, entirely my fault!"
"This is Haizhou, not Huangzhou. Even by bus, Chaocheng is only four or five hours from Yacheng. What's so hard about that?"
Ye Chun sat down, eyeing his obsequious smile suspiciously before suddenly asking, "Are you alright?"
"Huh? Nothing's wrong!"
Ji Jue widened his eyes, trying to look utterly innocent.
Ye Chun's brow furrowed deeper. "Then why do you keep wiping your mouth?"
"...Dry mouth, just a dry mouth!" Ji Jue raised his hand and feigned wiping the corner of his lips with an angelic expression. Taking advantage of Ye Chun's momentary lapse in attention, he used pouring water as an excuse to hide the paper on the desk meant to torment her.
Then, a chilling voice sounded behind him.
"Strange..."
Ye Chun stared at his stiff back, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Something feels off about you."
"Hmm?"
Ji Jue turned around with great difficulty, his smile strained. "What's strange?"
"I've been sitting here for five whole minutes... and you haven't bragged once about your glorious triumph of fighting one against four, breaking through the encirclement, and bravely claiming the championship."
Great Detective Ye Chun adjusted her glasses, the lenses glinting coldly as she astutely seized upon the crucial flaw. "What are you hiding?"
"No-nothing at all!"
Ji Jue laughed awkwardly, babbling to change the subject.
In secret, his back was soaked in sweat.
He discreetly manipulated Quicksilver to slide the draft deeper into the crevice of his suitcase.
*Crap! I was so busy plotting villainy...*
If she found out that while she was working herself half to death, he was secretly writing a thesis behind her back to out-grind her, would he get fired tomorrow just for stepping into Chaosheng with his left foot first?
However, Ye Chun's sharp gaze swept up and down over him. After a long pause, she asked, "You're not planning to attend the awards ceremony looking like that, are you?"
"Huh?"
Ji Jue scratched his head blankly. "What's wrong with it?"
Ye Chun didn't answer. She took out her phone, snapped a photo, and held up the screen—messy, bedraggled hair, scruffy stubble, unwashed cargo pants splattered with mud, and a faded T-shirt washed nearly white...
"I knew it."
Ye Chun sighed in exasperation. "You're the director of Haian Auto now, for crying out loud. Could you at least pay a little attention to your image?"
With that, she tossed the large case she had carried in into his arms.
"Brought this especially for you. Try it on."
"What is it? Why so secretive?"
Puzzled, Ji Jue opened the case to find a full formal suit neatly folded inside a garment bag, complete with custom cufflinks and a tie clip. Besides two dress shirts, there were also four ties and a pair of leather shoes.
With Ji Jue's unrefined aesthetic and rustic background, he knew nothing about thread counts or fabrics. But just picking up the leather shoes and feeling their craftsmanship, he knew they were wildly expensive. From the shirts to the suit jacket, the fabric was silky-smooth and felt almost seamless. Even with Ji Jue's sensitive touch, he couldn't detect the minute variations between the stitches; the tailoring was nothing short of miraculous.
Moreover, despite being folded in a case for so long, not a single wrinkle showed upon unfolding.
In an instant, amidst the surprise, a rare twinge of guilt welled up inside him.
"Thanks, Senior Sister!"
Curious, Ji Jue picked it up to inspect it. "When did you buy this?"
"Didn't you mention last time that you didn't have any formal wear? You were going to need it sooner or later anyway, so I took the measurements from your protective suit order and had someone tailor one for you."
Ye Chun picked up the tea served by her lackey and waved her hand dismissively. "Too bad the tailoring took a while, and you grinded your way up at an absurd pace, so it didn't make it in time for your craftsman examination. Consider it a celebration of your championship victory, then.
"If you really want to thank me, just cut down on out-grinding me in front of my aunt. That'll prove you still possess something called a conscience."
"Hey, how could you say that!"
Ji Jue shook his head vehemently, speaking with solemn righteousness: "I am a man who prioritizes repaying kindness above all else! How could I ever do something so utterly devoid of conscience?"
"Heh."
Ye Chun eyed his feigned innocence, not believing a single word.
Might as well treat it as dog barking.
*
Ten minutes later, when Ji Jue walked out of the inner suite after changing, he seemed like a completely different person.
Twisting around in front of the mirror, he had never imagined he could look like such a suave degenerate—a wolf in sheep's clothing—and found it novel even to himself.
"How does it look?" he turned to solicit an opinion.
"Hmm, hold on..."
Ye Chun rested her chin in her hand, musing for a moment before digging another tie out of the case and tossing it to him. "Try this one."
"Burgundy? Does that match?"
Ji Jue was skeptical. "Isn't it a bit flashy?"
"At an occasion like this, someone giving an acceptance speech is supposed to be flashy. If young people don't show a bit of flair, they look lifeless. Did you expect to dress like some old fossil holding a champagne flute at a banquet?"
Ye Chun waved him on impatiently. "Go with this one, hurry up."
After Ji Jue clumsily swapped the tie, Ye Chun directed him to change the cufflinks, then remove the tie clip...
Back and forth, changing through three different tie knots, while having his messy hair firmly brushed down.
"A pity I didn't bring any pomade, and finding some right now isn't easy. Just use material property interference to shape it yourself."
After a flurry of adjustments, Ye Chun finally let go, studying Ji Jue's reflection in the mirror before nodding slowly. "That's about right."
She let out a soft sigh. "You finally look like a young man."
Long after leaving Quancheng, the white-streaked hair from Kanemoto's torment and forced cramming had gradually returned to black, leaving only faint traces of gray.
Before, even when handsome, his quiet expression always carried an aloof, distant chill that warned strangers away.
Now, when he smiled, he was finally bright and clear.
Radiating a reassuring peace.
"You've grown, Ji Jue," Ye Chun murmured softly, gazing at the young man in the mirror.
"Have I?" Ji Jue wondered aloud with a self-deprecating smile. "It all feels like a dream."
"Of course you have."
Ye Chun nodded firmly, then grabbed both sides of his face, kneading and tugging without mercy. Admiring his comical expression in the mirror, she smiled gently.
Completely different from the tormented or bewildered youth of the past. Slowly opening his eyes from a confusing dream...
Hadn't he already accomplished so much?
"Things have reached this point; nothing more can be done."
In a deathly silent office, the visiting elder let out a soft sigh. "Midtown has already reached a verdict. The family has no other choice, A-Wen."
He looked at Shang Tongwen sitting behind the desk. "You'll just have to bear the grievance."
"What do you mean, bear the grievance?"
Shang Tongwen asked coldly. Having gone without rest for far too long, his eyes were bloodshot like a predatory beast ready to devour human flesh. The words squeezed through his gritted teeth: "Fourth Uncle, please make yourself clear!"
"Someone has to take responsibility for making such a massive mess over these past days."
Fourth Uncle shook his head with regret, urging, "Don't be stubborn, A-Wen. This is the collective decision of all the elders in the Second and Fourth Branches... The first branch stirred up this chaos, so someone has to provide an accounting, don't they?"
"An accounting? Me?"
Unable to restrain his fury any longer, Shang Tongwen shot to his feet. "Back when the table was flipped, who the fuck said that giving an inch meant losing a mile, that it was a fight to the death?! What, now that Shang Jiu the son-in-law is dead and Lyu Yingyue's blade is at your throats, you people know fear? Where the fuck was this caution before!
"Growing up, I could never understand—why did you old bastards get all the good things, while all the trouble and dog shit was dumped on me to swallow?!
"Did you not take the money? Did you not claim the positions? Didn't you take the lion's share of the benefits?!
"When your idiot son went around chasing rich targets, drugging people, and ended up overdosing the daughter of the Dongcheng Energy Bureau's deputy director to death, who the fuck groveled and wiped your ass for you!
"And now you have the face to tell me I have to bear the grievance, A-Wen?"
Fourth Uncle opened his mouth to speak, but the enraged Shang Tongwen hurled the ashtray across the desk straight into his face, instantly splitting his forehead open in a bloody mess.
The old man roared in agony and fury: "Shang Tongwen, are you mad?!"
"Am I the mad one? You people are the ones who are mad!"
Shang Tongwen roared hoarsely: "Damn it, don't forget who brought Echo to where it is today! It was me, not you useless trash who only know how to sit on the younger generation's necks and take a shit!
"All these years, whenever you wanted money, I gave you money; whatever you wanted, I gave you! I bent over backwards to please you, and just because we lost one round, you want to use me as a scapegoat?!
"You think saying a few sweet words will make Lyu Yingyue spare you? Stop dreaming! The only reason she's being lenient now is because she's full and wants to keep you useless bastards around to slaughter slowly later!
"You think selling me out, conceding a few assets and market shares will let you pretend nothing happened and continue being masters of society?!
"Keep fucking dreaming!"
"Stop this nonsense, A-Wen! It's over!"
The bleeding elder's face turned livid as he stood and barked, "It's not just Midtown—the Saints have reached an agreement! If you keep causing trouble, we won't be able to protect you..."
*Bang!*
A dull crack sounded.
Without hesitation, Shang Tongwen pulled the trigger. The moment the gunshot rang out, the old bastard across the desk fell backward onto his chair.
Blood erupted from the hole in his forehead.
Finally, quiet.
"Ptooey!"
Gun in hand, Shang Tongwen looked down expressionlessly at the face frozen in terror, spitting a mouthful of phlegm onto it.
"Protect me?"
He sneered. "Once I'm in court, taking the fall for all the evidence, how are you going to protect me? Protect me by ensuring I can never open my mouth again, dying with my eyes wide open?"
A lifetime of diligence, serving like a slave night and day, offending everyone who could be offended, only to be tossed into a latrine like a cracked chamber pot...
He had seen through the true nature of these old bastards long ago. The moment he learned of Shang Jiu's death, he hadn't harbored even a shred of hope in them.
Want a ceasefire? Wishful thinking!
By now, his only way out was kill or be killed!
Otherwise, even if he changed his name and fled to a distant land, he would eventually be tracked down, saddled with even more blame and crimes, dying without a grave.
Who could have guessed that right now, the people who wanted him dead the most, who wanted him to shoulder all the sins, were none other than the Shang family that had elevated him in the first place?
If he wanted to keep his position, to overcome the crisis before him, he had only one choice: tear up the ceasefire agreement and force the paused conflict to continue.
Only by making both sides completely irreconcilable, locked in a fight to the death... only then would the factions in Midtown, Dongcheng, and the various families who had no way out realize the consequences and back him to the death!
And if he failed... all the better!
Everyone could go to hell together!
Shang Tongwen kicked Fourth Uncle's corpse off the chair, walked back behind the desk expressionlessly, and set down the gun.
From the corpse's pocket, a phone began to ring.
No one answered.
One could imagine how eagerly the callers were waiting for their scapegoat to climb onto the altar himself.
Even now, those fools clung to unrealistic dreams, nursing delusions of making a comeback, desperate to prolong their lingering lives in wealth and glory...
It didn't matter. Sweet dreams didn't last long.
Time for them to wake up!
"Commence operation."
Shang Tongwen switched on the monitor before him. The scene from distant Chaocheng in Haizhou appeared—several kilometers away from the Desert Sea Rally awards venue, a sniper on a rooftop was in position.
Through the magnification of the sniper scope, cutting across layers of buildings, the crosshairs locked onto a figure lazily basking in the sun at an open-air cafe table outside the venue.
With a crisp *click*, the round chambered.
A prototype ultra-long-range sniper weapon, meticulously crafted in Echo's laboratories, was primed and ready. The electronic scope faithfully transmitted the distant scene directly onto Shang Tongwen's screen.
He raised a glass of wine, waiting coldly.
"Interference detected," the hitman reported.
At the cafe, Ye Chun stepped out carrying donuts and a latte, sitting down beside Ji Jue. The two chatted and laughed, her long hair fluttering in the breeze and drifting in front of the crosshairs.
Shang Tongwen urged in a cold voice, "Don't stall. Kill them both!"
At that instant, the sound of a trigger being pulled echoed.
Bridging several kilometers, descending from the sky, the bullet tore through the obstacle in an instant before burying into Ji Jue's skull. Blood sprayed outward, splattering across the red carpet.
Like fire.
Screams rang out, the panic and chaos of the scene transmitted through the screen, perhaps accompanied by the faint sound of all ceasefire agreements being torn to shreds, or even the shattering of peaceful dreams, reigniting flames of war that engulfed everything.
Only... none of the anticipated scenes occurred.
No bullet flew from the barrel. It was as if it had misfired. Yet blood indeed spread across the screen, raining down and coating everything.
A keen blade had swept across the camera view in a casual motion, slitting the throat.
Amidst eerie gurgling gasps, blood erupted from the assassin's throat, splashing across the scope and staining everything in Shang Tongwen's sight crimson.
And through that sea of crimson, he finally saw clearly.
Beneath the parasol, the young man who had been chatting and laughing suddenly turned his head. Looking up toward the camera, he offered a faint smile, his lips silently shaping words as he raised his teacup.
Like a greeting at a first meeting:
"Nice to meet you."
*Crash!*
A bone-chilling dread instantly overwhelmed Shang Tongwen. Without thinking, he shoved himself up, knocking over his chair as he stumbled backward. The moment he recovered, he instinctively lunged toward the office doors.
*Rattle, rattle.*
No matter how hard he wrenched the handle, it was completely useless.
The door was locked tight.
In his panic, he rushed to the window, struggling to pry it open, only to see pitch-black vehicles pulling up along the street outside Echo Tech-Industry's headquarters, parking right at the entrance. The people stepping out expertly sealed every exit. Security guards were shoved roughly aside; the leader flashed a badge, and no one dared stand in their way.
In the midst of questioning, someone raised a hand and pointed up toward Shang Tongwen's office. Instantly, expressionless captors filed into the building.
Shang Tongwen recoiled as if struck by lightning, retreating from their upward gazes.
His face was pale, his breathing ragged.
Only then did he notice that the monitor he had knocked over had lit up again...
Countless points of light flickered like stars, converging into a hazy silhouette that curtsied gracefully like a lady lifting her skirts.
Like a death knell tolling before doom.
She said, "Isis sends her regards."
Chapter 384