Chapter 12

"Didn't I already tell you? Fen doesn't deal with small-time people. If that wasn't the case, why do you think I'm still involved with her? And why would I take you directly to her? There are plenty of men out there, but not everyone is worth it," Zo Ling said, reclining casually on her bed.

Min, seated in front of her mirror, stared at her reflection, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I still can't believe it, Zo Ling. I managed to make almost 200,000 yuan in just a few days…" She shook her head and muttered a curse under her breath. "When he handed me the money, I couldn't believe it was all mine. I kept thanking him, but he didn't even seem fazed."

Zo Ling burst into laughter. "You're new to this, Min. Don't ever thank anyone again. You gave him what he wanted, and he paid you. What's there to thank him for?"

Min turned to look at her, her expression conflicted. "That's the problem, Zo Ling. I still feel uneasy about it, to be honest. And I'm afraid things might go wrong… that's why I'm telling you."

"How many times do I have to tell you to relax, Min? There's no such thing as being 'ruined' just because you indulged a little. That's nonsense. Whatever you're feeling, it will pass. Just let go and enjoy the opportunity while it lasts."

Her phone buzzed suddenly, interrupting their conversation. She glanced at the screen—it was Chang again, the man who had been pestering her for the past two days despite her telling him she wasn't feeling well. She sighed, annoyed, and set the phone down, shaking her head.

"It's Chang. I don't understand why he keeps calling me," she muttered.

"Well, how do you expect him to stop when you keep leading him on? Be straightforward and tell him it's over. If needed, be harsh. What more could he possibly add to your life?"

"You're right. Honestly, when I think about it, he's hardly contributed anything compared to what I've made in just a few days."

Zo Ling smirked. "Exactly. That's the kind of math you need to focus on. Now, about those supplements I set aside for you…" She gestured toward a few bottles on her bedside table. "Take them with you when you leave. They'll help you feel better."

Before Min could respond, her phone buzzed again with another call. Her face soured.

"I should just block his number and be done with it," she grumbled.

But when she checked, the caller ID showed it was Mama, not Chang. Her gaze shifted to the clock—9:15 p.m. She quickly answered the call, bringing the phone to her ear.

"I won't tolerate this nonsense, Min. I won't have you dragging our name through the mud before we've even begun anything," Mama's angry voice snapped through the line. "Your father's memorial was just yesterday, and yet you've already found time to turn me into some kind of advisor?"

Min winced at the reprimand. She could tell that Ning must have been stoking Mama's anger from the sidelines.

"Mama, I didn't realize how late it was. I'm on my way."

"You're on your way? And what about him?"

Her heart sank. "You mean Zhan? He hasn't come back yet? I thought he went to Fen's place—he should have been back by now."

"Well, he's not here. You'd better find him and bring him back before Hao gets home!"

With that, the call ended. Min stood frozen for a moment, worry creeping into her chest. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Zhan wasn't the type to wander aimlessly, and if he'd gone to Fen's place, where else could he possibly be? A chill ran down her spine as doubt began to take hold.

"Should I call Fen?" she muttered aloud, not realizing she'd spoken until Zo Ling responded.

"Fen? What would be the point of that? She's already taken her share from your earnings—don't go giving her any more. Her job was just to give you the address."

Min shook her head. "That's not it. Zhan hasn't come home yet. I know he went to her place because he mentioned he'd be working for her."

"Your younger brother, right? Well, let's hope everything's fine," Zo Ling replied with a shrug.

Without wasting another moment, Min searched for Fen's number on her phone and dialed it. The call went unanswered twice before Fen finally picked up.

"Min, what's wrong?" Fen's voice was calm and direct.

Min quickly adjusted her tone, greeting her politely before explaining, "We're looking for Zhan. I was wondering if he might still be at your place."

"Oh, no. He left earlier. I sent him on an errand, but he should be back by now," Fen replied casually.

"Alright, thank you. I appreciate your help," Min said, ready to end the call.

But before she could, Fen added, "By the way, does Zhan know his way around the city? Can he find his way back home?"

Min hesitated. "Not really. He doesn't go out much."

"No problem. I'll make sure someone gets him back," Fen assured her before ending the call.

Min stood there, stunned, the phone still in her hand.

"What did she say?" Zo Ling asked.

Min repeated the conversation, and Zo Ling immediately burst into laughter.

"Relax. If it's Fen we're talking about, she probably has that boy wrapped around her finger. With someone like her, it was never going to just be a work arrangement."

But Min couldn't explain the sudden heaviness in her chest, the strange unease settling over her. For the first time, she realized just how much she cared about Zhan's well-being. He was so naive, so unprepared for the kind of world Fen lived in. Min had never thought she'd worry about him this much—but now, he was all she could think about.

Why did Fen insist on asking Min when he would return to work? It was clear she had an agenda, judging by how she favored Zhan over her…

:-*:-*:-*:-*:-*

"I swear I'm tired of sitting here… We've been at this for over an hour, just watching every car pass by. I'm done for the day, and even tonight, I'm not going to bother resting."

Wei Li, who sold chicken, muttered to his friend Yi Fan, who stood beside him. They were seated inside the small stall they used for their business, a typical roadside shop catering to travelers on highways.

"Well, since we've already arranged for our supplies to be delivered, just be patient until they arrive. My issue with you is that you complain about every small favor someone asks of you, even if it's just once in a while."

"The man said he was at Meiling when you spoke on the phone earlier. What's Meiling compared to here? Even yesterday, when Mei Li went on a bike, it didn't take him this long."

"Fine, if you want to leave, go ahead. As for me, I'll stay. I understand what gratitude and respect mean. What this man has done for me is unmatched, and I owe him everything. No one else in the world would've done the same for me."

Before Wei Li could retort, Yi Fan's phone rang from where it rested on his lap. He quickly picked it up, recognizing the name of the person they were waiting for, written clearly on the screen.

It was Yibo.

"Hello, sir, good evening… Have you arrived?"

From the other end, Yibo's voice replied, "Yes, Yi Fan. Where are you?"

Yi Fan hurriedly stepped out of the stall. "I'm here, by the roadside…"

As he scanned the area, his eyes landed on a dark blue car approaching from the side. The headlights were blinding, preventing him from clearly seeing the driver.

"Sir, is that you in the blue car approaching from the side?"

"Yes, that's me," came the reply.

Yi Fan ended the call and gestured to Wei Li to follow him. They quickly approached the car, Yi Fan's heart filled with joy at Yibo's arrival. This moment was something he had long wished for—a chance to repay the man who had once saved his life.

Years ago, Yi Fan had worked as a security guard at the home of a wealthy businessman in Guangzhou. When authorities launched an investigation into his employer, accusing him of corruption and ties to the mafia, Yi Fan and the elderly driver were unjustly implicated and sent to prison. It was Yibo who had fought tirelessly to prove their innocence, securing their release. Since then, Yi Fan had made it his mission to maintain a close bond with Yibo, frequently checking in on him as a gesture of gratitude.

This loyalty had not gone unnoticed. Every few days, Yibo would send Yi Fan financial assistance, enabling him to start his roadside business selling premium spices. Yi Fan shared the stall with his friend Wei Li, who sold chicken and other poultry products.

Now, Yibo had unexpectedly reached out, asking for a place to stay for the night. Yi Fan had immediately called his family, instructing them to prepare for their guest, regardless of the cost. His household had gone into a frenzy, with everyone working to ensure Yibo would be treated with the utmost respect.

As Yibo stepped out of the car, Yi Fan hurried to greet him. "There was heavy traffic near your location, Yi Fan. I believe there might have been an accident up ahead."

"Oh, I see. May God protect everyone involved," Yi Fan responded solemnly. Wei Li, standing nearby, added his own commentary about the recklessness of nighttime drivers.

"Sir, I'm not sure if your car can make it into our village. Only motorbikes can navigate the rough roads leading in," Yi Fan explained.

Yibo nodded. "No problem. Let's see how far we can go…"

He turned to glance at the backseat of the car. Sitting there was Zhan, leaning against the seat with his eyes closed. He hadn't moved since Yibo had told him to get inside the car earlier, and his silence was starting to concern him.

Even when he'd gotten up moments ago, he hadn't looked at him or said anything. His expression made it clear he wasn't feeling well. But what troubled Yibo even more was how much he resembled his late sister, Liu—not just in appearance but also in his gestures and expressions.

Yibo couldn't shake the feeling that Liu was somehow sitting in front of him, ready to tell him something from their shared past. It overwhelmed him so much that he had crossed the road earlier to find water and wash the blood off his hands, hoping to clear his head.

Now, as the road ahead beckoned, he realized there was no turning back. If Yi Fan couldn't help, he would simply drive through the night, heading toward the only place he considered a refuge.

Guang's house in Shenzhen. Yibo couldn't reach him on the phone, but he was certain that by morning, before they arrived, he'd get through.

Just as expected, Yi Fan picked up and assured him there was no issue, urging him to come over.

"I'm here with my brother, Yi Fan. I hope that's alright?" Yibo said calmly.

Yi Fan grinned. "No problem at all. You're very welcome!"

"Let me just check the car real quick, and then we'll head over together," Yibo said.

"I think it's better to park it near our stall. I'll head over to Sung Yin and the others—they're staying nearby," Wei Li suggested, pointing toward a gas station across the road.

While Wei Li walked away, Yi Fan helped guide Yibo in parking the car. Zhan, seated in the back, listened to their conversation and movements. Yet his mind was racing. Despite the physical pain he felt all over, his thoughts were consumed by endless calculations.

First, he struggled to believe what had happened. It felt like a dream, an unreal story. Second, his mind wandered to home—what would happen if they looked for him and couldn't find him? And third, who was this man who had picked him up? What connection did he have to the man who had taken him initially? Why had this stranger decided to "help" him now? Where was he taking him? What was his agenda?

Zhan's thoughts spiraled further. Was that man... dead? If he's dead, does that make me a murderer? If I killed him, what will happen to me? Questions and scenarios flooded his mind, overwhelming him completely.

Meanwhile, Yibo was outside the car, tinkering with the engine, his presence snapping Zhan back to reality. He didn't dare meet Yibo's gaze, fearing him more than anyone he had ever encountered.

"What's your name?" Yibo's voice broke through the silence.

Zhan didn't look up, nor did he respond.

"I'm talking to you. What's your name?"

Zhan shifted uncomfortably, finally muttering, "Zhan."

Yibo nodded. "Zhan, we're staying here for the night. I told these people you're my younger brother, so act like one. We'll talk about everything tomorrow, alright?"

Without a word, Zhan nodded.

"Can you ride a motorcycle?" Yibo asked suddenly.

The question startled Zhan, who looked up sharply. For the first time, their eyes met briefly through the car's rearview mirror. Though Zhan still couldn't see Yibo's face clearly, he felt a deep mistrust. Quietly, he shook his head, a faint tremor in his movements as remnants of suppressed sobs lingered.

Yibo sighed, opened the door, and approached Yi Fan, who stood nearby.

"Yi Fan, there's no chance the car can make it further into the village, is there?" Yibo asked.

"It can, but it'll be tough. The road is terrible at night," Yi Fan replied.

"Alright, no problem. Let's try."

Yi Fan nodded and signaled to Wei Li, who joined them. They navigated the vehicle over rough terrain, bumping along until they reached the village. Thankfully, the car managed to make it to the house Yi Fan had pointed out earlier. He was the first to get out, leaving Yibo and Zhan in the car.

Yibo turned toward Zhan in the rearview mirror again. "Don't borrow a phone to call anyone. Don't contact your family or let anyone know you're in trouble. Just stay low for tonight, and we'll figure things out tomorrow."

Zhan heard him but didn't respond. After a heavy pause, he sighed deeply and finally said, "Can I ask you something?"

Yibo didn't reply immediately, so Zhan continued. "The other guy… is he dead? Is he really dead?"

"The other guy." The phrase echoed in Yibo's mind. Did Zhan not even know Peng's name?

"You don't even know his name?" Yibo asked.

Zhan shook his head. "I don't. She just told me he'd take me to a family that needed a tutor. But when we got there… things…" Zhan trailed off, unable to finish.

"Look, just stay calm. Whatever happens, we'll figure it out," Yibo interrupted. Though he wasn't sure why, Zhan found Yibo's words oddly comforting.

Finally, Zhan opened the car door, realizing he hadn't even grabbed his shoes in the chaos. Without saying a word, he stepped out barefoot and followed Yi Fan to the house.

Moments later, Yi Fan emerged, grinning with satisfaction. "Everything's ready," he announced.

Yibo exhaled deeply, turning off the car and stepping out into the cool night air.

It was a rural house, with a spacious courtyard and rooms on each side. The place wasn't entirely empty—there were a few people around. Yet, as Yibo sat on the woven mat spread out for them, exchanging pleasantries, his eyes were only on Zhan, who sat quietly beside him. The tension and chaos surrounding them seemed almost tangible.

Yi Fan had taken Yibo and Zhan to a small room he had prepared to the best of his ability. The room was equipped with a standing fan and a television. However, Yibo barely acknowledged the pile of dishes Yi Fan had left in the corner. He simply bypassed them, heading straight back to his car.

Inside the car, Yibo leaned back, clutching his forehead as the events of the day replayed relentlessly in his mind. Suddenly, the blare of a car horn from up ahead startled him. Lifting his gaze, he spotted a sleek car, noticeably out of place in the village. The driver flashed the car's headlights on and off repeatedly—once, twice, thrice, then four, five times—before finally turning them off completely.

Yibo's eyes narrowed sharply, instantly recognizing the signal. It was part of the code used in their line of work—a unique system that only seasoned professionals would understand. The signal was clear, and without hesitation, Yibo turned on his car and followed. The unfamiliar car navigated through the village streets, heading to an open field on the outskirts under the silver glow of the moonlight.

The car ahead came to a halt, and Yibo parked a safe distance behind, leaving his engine running just in case. The driver's side door of the other car opened, and a man stepped out. He was dressed simply, in casual clothes, and raised his hands in the air, signaling he meant no harm.

Cautiously, Yibo stepped out of his own car, locking it behind him.

"Congratulations, Yibo," the man said with a smug smile. "I must commend you for surviving the mess you were entangled in today."

Yibo studied the man intently, his sharp gaze narrowing. "Who are you? How do you know me?"

The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Ah, you shouldn't be asking that, Yibo. In our line of work, this is what we do. Both you and I—you shouldn't be surprised that I know everything about you."

Yibo's expression darkened as he nodded slowly. "Then tell me—what do you want from me?"

The man raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Nothing at all, my friend. It's my boss who wants to meet you. His name is Shan Tunan."

The name Shan Tunan hit Yibo like a hammer, striking deep in his mind. It wasn't unfamiliar—not at all. In fact, the name had been etched in his memory from the very first day he joined the organization. During his orientation, Shan Tunan was highlighted as a legend. He was the first of his kind in their field, achieving feats that no one else had ever accomplished. His success brought him wealth, power, and fame across China. It was said there wasn't a place in the country where his name didn't command respect. His legacy was so significant that his name was considered inseparable from the organization's history. People claimed it would be impossible to speak of the organization without mentioning Shan Tunan, for he was the cornerstone of its success.

But there was one glaring fact: according to the official record, Shan Tunan had been dead for twenty years. Every year, the organization even held a memorial to honor the day of his passing.

The man standing in front of Yibo shook his head as if anticipating the question forming in his mind.

"He's not dead, Yibo. Shan Tunan is very much alive, and he's waiting for you at his residence. He asked me to congratulate you and tell you that the time has come for your shared aspirations to be fulfilled. His heart carries far more than you could ever imagine right now."

In the heart of Shenzhen, within the sprawling estate now known as Kang Ming's Mansion, the man once recognized as Shan Tunan leaned back with a deep, satisfied smile. He placed his phone down after ending the call, a look of pure delight etched on his face.

The living room was bathed in near-darkness, the only light coming from the glow of the television in front of him. Its flickering light illuminated his features just as the door to the room creaked open. His wife, Zhao Min, walked in gracefully, dressed in her elegant nightwear. It was her nightly ritual to ensure everything in the household, including her children, was settled before she joined her husband.

Kang Ming turned to her with the same smile still lingering on his lips. "You never seem to age, Zhao Min. It's as if his Majesty Jun Wu himself blessed you." His words carried the playful praise he always offered whenever he was in high spirits.

Zhao Min laughed, her joy bubbling straight from her heart. If someone had captured this moment in a photograph, it would have perfectly encapsulated the calm before the storm—before the many events that were about to unfold in their lives.

:-*:-*:-*:-*:-*

Qian knew the moment she woke from her fainting spell and saw their home filling with people—relatives from both her side and her husband Shi Lei's side—that what she'd heard before blacking out was true: her son Peng was dead. He had lost his life under circumstances still shrouded in mystery. Even his body had been taken by the authorities to the hospital for investigation. Meanwhile, the house where the incident had occurred—belonging to his friend—had been sealed off, and everyone present at the time, including the security guard, Peng's friend Zang, and a few partygoers, had been arrested.

She saw her siblings weeping. Some of Shi Lei's relatives were crying as well. But Qian—there was not a single tear in her eyes. She could only picture Peng's face, his bright smile, everything about him, as she kept telling herself it was a lie. Death couldn't have taken Peng—not now.

If it were true, however, then it could only mean the fears and doubts she had carried in her heart for years were finally materializing. After waking, she overheard conflicting stories, including Zang's claim that Yibo had killed Peng. But even that was unconfirmed. The security guard's statement, which was part of the investigation, wasn't enough to definitively place Yibo at the scene. And Zang? He had merely guessed and thrown Yibo's name into the air.

Still, Qian knew one thing: if Yibo had anything to do with Peng's death, it was likely tied to Shi Lei. Her husband had once admitted to her that Yibo wasn't who everyone thought he was—that he was a spy sent to investigate him. This revelation only fueled her suspicions that Shi Lei was involved in something illicit, something that required investigation.

For years, Qian had followed Shi Lei's every move, unwilling to let his secret dealings jeopardize their family. They had taken on responsibilities together, but she had no intention of letting his choices bring ruin upon their innocent children.

And yet, deep in her heart, Qian couldn't believe Yibo was capable of killing Peng. She was certain that any investigation would eventually clear his name. Instead, she believed that the misdeeds haunting their family for years were finally catching up to them.

After all, people always reap what they sow.

Now, all Qian was waiting for was Shi Lei's return from the police station. She needed to see his face, to look into his eyes and find out if it was true—if Peng was really gone. If it was true that she and Shi Lei had lost their first child, the one they had brought into this world together. After that, she would ask him if he remembered what she remembered—if he could recall the origin of all the chaos, the choices that had stained their lives with darkness. Did he, like her, believe that what they were experiencing now was the harvest of seeds they had sown long ago?

She had erased Shi Lei's love from her heart a long time ago. She had stripped him of any meaningful place in her life or her emotions. The only thing that mattered to her now was her children—protecting them and salvaging their dignity. If it turned out to be true that Peng was gone, then it could only be for one of two reasons. Either Shi Lei's dangerous dealings had finally caught up with their family, or the burdens and misdeeds he had placed on their lives were now demanding repayment.

Her heart rebelled at the thought. She would rather expose their darkest secrets to the world, let everyone know the truth, if it meant easing the weight of her guilt. She would go anywhere, seek forgiveness from anyone, just to ensure she never had to lose another child or see them in a dire situation again.

When she locked herself in the bathroom, the sobs that had been lodged in her chest finally erupted. They came with such force it felt as though her heart might burst from the pressure. The sound of her cries echoed off the tiled walls, filling the small space with her grief.

It was Mei's voice she heard first, calling to her from the other side of the door. Mei told her that Da Jian had called, saying she and Yun had already booked flights and would arrive in Beijing early the next morning. Mei's voice faltered as she heard her mother's cries—sounds she had never heard before and couldn't have imagined. Alarmed, Mei began calling her mother's name, begging her to open the door. But when no response came, she broke down into tears herself.

It wasn't long before Yun joined her. Yun had arrived already crying, her own grief spilling over as she pressed herself against the bathroom door. Together, the sisters wept, their voices blending with their mother's muffled sobs from inside. Relatives gathered around, trying in vain to console them.

Amid her cries, Qian suddenly heard an echo from the past—Xiao Lei's death wailing in her ears. She heard the newborn's cries, saw herself wrapping his tiny body in a soft new shawl adorned with yellow and blue...

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛