That night, the two men sneaked into Li Zhou's abandoned house. The attic was covered in dust, and Li Zhou found a rusty iron box hidden in a wallboard compartment—a USB drive lying quietly inside. Gu Yuxiao took the USB drive and plugged it into his computer.
The screen lit up, revealing dense transaction records, photos, and recordings... In one of the videos, Zhou Hui was trading with several foreigners, and the box was filled with drugs.
"As expected." Gu Yuxiao sneered, "Zhou Hui is just an errand boy."
Suddenly, the computer screen flickered twice and went black.
"We're being tracked." Gu Yuxiao quickly unplugged the USB drive, but it was too late - the sound of brakes was heard downstairs.
Li Zhou rushed to the window and saw three black SUVs parked at the door, with several men in black approaching with guns.
"Let's go!" Gu Yuxiao grabbed Li Zhou and climbed out the back window. As soon as they jumped into the backyard, the front door was kicked open, and bullets hit the window frame, sending wood chips flying.
Gu Yuxiao led Li Zhou through the alley and hopped onto a waiting motorcycle. The engine roared as they raced into the night, the sound of gunfire fading behind them.
Li Zhou clung to Gu Yuxiao's waist tightly, the wind whistling in his ears. He looked down and saw blood seeping from Gu Yuxiao's sleeves.
"You were shot?!"
Gu Yuxiao sneered: "Just a scratch."
In the safe house, Gu Yuxiao took off his shirt, revealing a bloody wound on his shoulder blade. Li Zhou gritted his teeth as he bandaged it, and even when alcohol was poured on him, Gu Yuxiao didn't even frown.
"Do you often do this?" Li Zhou asked.
Gu Yuxiao lit a cigarette and said nonchalantly: "It's a common meal."
Li Zhou was silent. He should have realized earlier that Gu Yuxiao's ability to control the Gu Group at the age of twenty-two was not solely due to his family background.
After bandaging the wound, Gu Yuxiao turned on his computer and retrieved an encrypted file: "The person behind Zhou Hui, codenamed 'Night Owl'."
On the screen is a complex flow of funds, ultimately pointing to a shell company overseas.
"Night Owl?" Li Zhou frowned. "Who is it?"
"I don't know." Gu Yuxiao narrowed his eyes, "But soon, he will jump out on his own."
The next day, financial news exploded—Xinghui Group's stock price plummeted, and Gu's suddenly announced the acquisition of its core assets. Zhou Hui's face was livid at the press conference, while Gu Yuxiao sat in the audience, a smile on his lips but a cold look in his eyes.
That night, Zhou Hui called.
"Gu Yuxiao!" Zhou Hui's voice was distorted. "What the hell do you want to do?!"
Gu Yuxiao shook his red wine glass and said lazily, "Mr. Zhou, it's just business, don't get excited."
"Business?!" Zhou Hui roared, "You're forcing me to death!"
Gu Yuxiao chuckled: "Why don't we talk?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds. Zhou Hui gritted his teeth and said, "...What do you want?"
"Tell me who Ye Xiao is." Gu Yuxiao's voice suddenly turned cold. "Otherwise, before the sun rises tomorrow, you will be lying in the morgue."
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When the morning mist, like uncondensed malt sugar, stuck to the bluestone slabs, Sister Hong's bamboo basket had already knocked against the door frame.
The mustard greens in the basket were half a person's height, and their broad leaves were covered with dewdrops, trembling in the pale golden morning light, like green silk just fished out of a stream.
When Feng Yulan took the basket, her fingertips touched the fine hairs between the leaf veins, which felt cool and mixed with the fishy smell of soil.
Zhang Shumin was squatting by the well wearing a blue cloth hat, scooping water with a copper ladle. Her silver hair leaked out from the brim of her hat, fluttering in the wind into a few thin silver threads.
"Choose ones with full terminal buds." Sister Hong lifted her apron to wipe her hands. Under her light blue Dacron shirt, there was a subtle bulge at the back of her waist - Feng Yulan knew that there was a folding knife hidden there.
Without looking up, Zhang Shumin ran her fingertips over the mustard stalks: "This one is hollow."
She pulled the vegetables out and threw them back into the bamboo basket, her movements as swift as chopping vegetables. "Don't pickle vegetables hollow; they can easily retain water."
Sister Hong said "oh" twice, squatted down and imitated her in picking up the cabbage heads. She slid up her sleeves, revealing a light blue tattoo on the inside of her forearm - it looked like a half-opened orchid, and the pattern overlapped with that of Doctor Liu's silver ring.
The bamboo basket for drying vegetables was placed on the crooked jujube tree in the backyard. Zhang Shumin took off her blue cloth hat and placed it on the corner of the basket, the fabric rustling as it rubbed against the basket.
"Drying vegetables requires three steps: drying and airing." Zhang Shumin arranges the mustard greens into a fan shape, with the leaves facing the same direction. "The first step is to dry them until they wilt but remain soft. The second step is to dry them until they become wrinkled. The third step is to dry them until they are half dry."
Her hands flipped through the leaves, and each leaf was arranged evenly, as if setting up a sniper point.
Sister Hong leaned against a tree trunk, chewing a cucumber, and suddenly said, "Auntie Wang's technique is like my husband Li's fishing gear."
By the time the sun crept over the roof, the mustard greens were curling at the edges. Zhang Shumin squatted on the bluestone slab, kneading the greens, the coarse salt grains rustling in her palms.
"When kneading the vegetables, apply force along the veins of the leaves." She grabbed a handful of vegetables and, with a twist of her wrist, the salt seeped into the crevices of the leaves, making tiny crackling sounds. "If you use too little force, no water will come out; if you use too much force, the fibers will break."
Feng Yulan followed suit, her nails soon filled with salt grains, astringent and painful. Sister Hong suddenly pulled out a small glass bottle from her apron pocket: "Add some of this."
The transparent liquid dripped onto the leaves, emitting a spicy aroma - it was the juice of the wild pepper she picked in the back mountain a few days ago.
Zhang Shumin's hand suddenly stopped. The wild pepper juice stretched out thin threads in the sunlight, falling on the mustard greens and spreading pale yellow spots.
"This stuff... has a strong bactericidal effect." Sister Hong said with a smile. The bottle label had the words "medical alcohol" printed on it, but it was crossed out with a red cross.
Feng Yulan saw Zhang Shumin rubbing her thumb on the leaves to spread the juice evenly. Her movements were extremely slow, as if she was testing something.
Sister Hong dragged the pickled vegetable jar out from under the bed. The clay body was covered with cracks, and the mouth of the jar was wrapped with a faded red cloth.
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