The corridor on the second underground floor of Jiangcheng Central Hospital is like a tunnel soaked in formaldehyde.
Disinfectant and the stale musty smell twisted into an icy mist, condensing into tiny water droplets along the cement walls, reflecting a cold light under the pale voice-controlled lights.
Chen Yanxiu half leaned on the hospital bed, his fingertips stroking the lock of the electronic shackles, and the metal chain dragged a silver snake-like reflection on the bedding.
The green light of the monitor flickered on his lenses, deepening the cold pool in his pupils. He heard the footsteps of the special police outside the door. Between the seventh and eighth steps, a floor tile would make a slight "creaking" sound, like some kind of timed heartbeat.
The shadow outside the observation hole flickered twice. It wasn't the outline of a standard leather boot, but the toe of a polished Oxford shoe, with a barely perceptible stain of purple-brown mud on the upper. Chen Yanxiu recognized this color; it was the shale soil unique to the hillside behind the Shen family's old house.
He lowered his eyelids, and his long eyelashes cast butterfly-wing-like shadows under his eyes. The electronic shackle on his left wrist suddenly vibrated rhythmically.
This was not a warning from the life monitor, but a micro transmitter hidden in his cufflinks tapping in Morse code: three short and one long, which was the "trap triggered" signal agreed upon by Li Zhou's technical team.
"Click." The ward door was pushed open a crack, and a strong cedar scent suddenly seeped into the smell of disinfectant - that was the smell of Chen Yanrong's usual cologne.
When the "nurse" who came in took off his mask, Shen Yanxiu could even see the dark purple tie clip faintly visible under his lapel, engraved with the lotus pattern unique to the Shen family's side branch.
The colorless liquid in the syringe glowed strangely under the light. Chen Yanxiu counted the other party's approaching steps. At the third step, he suddenly spoke, his voice as light as a feather: "Third Uncle's 'hemagglutinin' purification technology is indeed more advanced than it was ten years ago."
The wind from the rooftop, carrying the stench of the river, blew Chen Yanbai's windbreaker like a fluttering flag. When he slammed open the fire escape door, the metal hinges shrieked sharply, startling the night heron perched in the corner.
The gunshots from the second underground floor had died down, leaving only the sudden flash of snow on the surveillance screen. Li Zhou said in the communicator that the last frame before the signal was interrupted was the electronic shackles on Chen Yanxiu's wrist drawing an arc in the reflection.
"Brother!" The word got stuck in Shen Yanbai's throat and turned into a suppressed growl.
As he rushed through the corridor, the sole of his boot rolled over the needle holes on the side of the SWAT officer's neck - the edges of those tiny puncture wounds were a strange bluish-purple color, exactly the same as the traces of sedative needles scattered at the scene of Li Zhengyang's car accident.
The door of the ward was ajar, with fresh pry marks on the door frame. The monitor inside the door was still beeping, like a clock hanging over his heart.
The quilt on the hospital bed was folded neatly, and a half-broken cufflink lay beside the pillow.
Chen Yanbai picked up the mother-of-pearl engraved with the Shen family crest, and his fingertips touched the very fine incision on the back - it was "7749", Chen Yanxiu's undercover number.
Suddenly, Ah Cheng's urgent report came through the communicator: "Mr. Shen! The electronic shackle signal has reappeared on the rooftop! And... thermal imaging shows a single heat source!"
The figure by the rooftop railing had its back to him, the back collar of its cashmere cardigan lifted by the wind, revealing the gauze faintly visible under the bandage.
The moment Chen Yanbai rushed over, he saw that the broken shackles on the man's wrist were still dripping with blood, and the dark red blood condensed into tiny ice crystals under the moonlight.
"Brother!" He shouted this time, his voice shattered by the wind. "What on earth are you playing?!"
When Chen Yanxiu turned around, there was a thin layer of moisture on his lenses.
The communicator in his palm was still lit, and the words on the screen trembled slightly in the night breeze: "Chen Yanrong has made a deal with Ye Xiao, exchanging the black account book for collateral assets."
Chen Yanbai's gaze fell on his abdomen - the bandage was smooth without a wrinkle, and it didn't look like he had been shot at all.
"Where are your injuries?" He grabbed Chen Yanxiu's wrist, the broken chain of the shackles hurting his palm. "Where did those people take you?!"
Chen Yanxiu didn't answer, but simply raised his hand to brush the dust off his shoulders. This action was all too familiar, like the time ten years ago when he brushed the snow off his frozen brother's collar in the snow.
A cargo ship was passing by on the river in the distance. When its searchlight swept across the rooftop, Chen Yanbai saw a flash of pity in his brother's eyes, like an undercurrent under broken ice.
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The cigar ash in Chen Yanrong's study accumulated to three inches long and fell on the "Shen Family's Collateral Asset Transfer Roadmap", burning out charred holes.
The Night Owl contact's profile picture on the screen was just a blurry black shadow, and the voice, triple-modified, sounded like rusty gears grinding: "Twenty-four hours, original ledger, or the Swiss account will be cleared."
"Clear?" Chen Yanrong pressed his cigar into the carved ashtray, leaving hideous burn marks on the porcelain surface. "Have they forgotten who provided the evidence of Chen Yanxiu's undercover activities? Without my spies on the board of directors, how would Li Zhou have gotten the coordinates of the Red Star Chemical Plant?"
The man in black behind him knelt on one knee and presented a metal box with half a sedative inside. The end of the syringe was engraved with the tiny word "VK-7", which fit perfectly with the fragments left at the hospital scene.
"Sir," the man in black kowtowed, "Chen Yanxiu has been taken to Warehouse C of the Western Suburbs Factory. After Chen Yanbai retrieved the communicator on the rooftop, he led the Dark River elite to the northwest."
Chen Yanrong walked to the wine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of 1982 Lafite.
The wine swayed in the crystal glass, casting a seductive red color, reflecting the heavy gold ring on his ring finger - the ring face was engraved with a lotus pattern, exactly the same as the tie clip of the killer he sent to the hospital.
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