THEIR WORTH...

"I don't understand what you mean, Juren."

Shi Lei spoke as he sat behind his desk, listening to his company's gas plant manager, who was reading a series of reports from the two files in front of them. Yet, despite all the written data, the only thing Shi Lei could comprehend was the overwhelming figures at the end of each report.

Juren, unfazed by the direct way his boss addressed him, simply ran a hand over his head and then did it again.

"Sir, I swear, every single detail in these reports was thoroughly reviewed—not once, not twice, but in multiple board meetings. We analyzed everything and confirmed that there was no alternative solution before presenting this to you."

Shi Lei continued to stare at him, his expression blank. In that moment, he didn't even know what to feel.

"This is impossible. This is utter nonsense, Juren. How can you tell me that, all of a sudden, I've lost this much money? Since the day we started this business, have we ever recorded losses even close to the amount you're stating now? What makes this situation any different from the previous ones?"

Juren adjusted his posture before answering.

"Sir, the fuel and gas shipment we acquired from that location is the root cause of this loss. You know this as well. Even before Peng's passing, we were struggling with this issue. After his death, we were finally able to clear the shipment, but the revenue generated this month barely covered a fraction of the costs."

Shi Lei shook his head. "This is the first time I'm hearing of this, Juren. I wasn't informed at all. Did any of you even attempt to tell me?"

Juren's gaze held a flicker of disbelief.

"But Sir, at the last meeting before Peng passed away, we sat together and went over every detail. And then, the day you visited the company, Mo started explaining the situation to you, but before he could finish, you got a phone call and had to leave."

"That means I didn't hear anything," Shi Lei muttered, his tone sharp. "And during that meeting, none of you mentioned that you had slashed my product prices? Instead, you just sat there, telling me that the fuel and gas we received were of subpar quality—something that isn't even unusual in this business!"

"But, Sir..."

"Enough, Juren." Shi Lei cut him off abruptly. "How many times have I told you that I will not accept these figures? Go back and reassess. Come up with a reasonable explanation, or else, I swear, I will have every one of you locked up until my money is accounted for."

Juren felt a weight settle in his chest. He had always known Shi Lei to be a man fiercely protective of his wealth, and he expected him to be furious over such a significant financial loss. But he hadn't anticipated that Shi Lei would refuse to understand the situation entirely—let alone make such a threat.

Still, Juren decided not to argue. He would give Shi Lei time. Time to calm down. Time to process everything. And once his emotions settled, he would have no choice but to look at the reports again and see the truth.

Juren stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and turned toward the door.

"Goodbye, Sir."

That was all he said before leaving, deliberately leaving the files behind. He was certain that once Shi Lei's anger subsided, he would go through them again. If, even after that, he still refused to understand—then they would have to face whatever decision he made.

One thing Juren was sure of, though: neither he nor his colleagues had stolen a single cent. The money had been lost purely due to unfortunate circumstances.

Shi Lei watched Juren leave, his mind burning with frustration.

This can't be happening. There's no way my company lost this much money.

They must have taken advantage of my recent distractions to fill their own pockets.

Even though he had never suspected his employees of dishonesty before—and had often praised their integrity—this time, he couldn't bring himself to trust them.

If these losses were real, then his company wouldn't survive unless he withdrew emergency funds—something he never touched.

Letting out a slow, steady breath, Shi Lei ran a hand over his face.

Everything was spiraling out of control.

And now, to make matters worse, he had just received another frustrating piece of news—Ping had sent more men to track down Yibo, but they had failed yet again.

Ever since he learned that the latest attempt had ended in failure, he had been restless.

He wasn't just after Yibo to please his superior, Mr. Yang Tao.

No.

He wanted Yibo to pay for his betrayal.

He needed to make sure his wife understood that the paranoia she had been feeling—that something bad was coming for them because of their past actions—was nothing but her imagination.

But how was he supposed to deal with that when, on top of everything else, he was now facing a financial crisis?

Shi Lei glanced at the files on his desk once more but didn't bother to open them.

Instead, he stood abruptly and left the room, stepping outside into his estate's courtyard.

At once, his security team followed him, sensing his tense mood.

Without hesitation, he walked straight toward his car.

His driver, who had been chatting with the gatekeeper, rushed over and quickly opened the door for him.

"Good evening, Sir."

Shi Lei said nothing as he got into the back seat.

The driver settled in and started the engine.

"Take me to the hospital."

That was the only instruction he gave as the gate swung open and they drove off.

From the car's radio, an old Indian song, Yeh Kisne Jadu Kiya, was playing softly.

Shi Lei knew the song well—it was from his youth. He had even memorized the lyrics back then.

But instead of bringing back nostalgic memories, the song only resurfaced a flood of images from twenty years ago.

He remembered the way his younger brother had looked at him—with shock, fear, and betrayal written all over his face.

And then, the image of a newborn. The tiny baby in his arms, his fragile little face illuminated by flashes of lightning outside as the storm raged on.

Shi Lei didn't tell the driver to turn off the music.

The song played on.

And so did the memories, dragging him deeper into the past.

He didn't even realize they had arrived at the hospital until the driver gently reminded him.

His body felt as light as a fallen leaf when he stepped forward, as if his legs weren't his own, carrying him toward the hospital. It was an unfamiliar sensation—one he had avoided for years. Every time the thought surfaced, he forced it away, much like he had tried to push Xiao Lei's past to the back of his mind. But he had refused to be forgotten, and now, everything had unfolded just as it had… And today, for the first time, he allowed himself to be consumed by those memories.

The weight of reality didn't fully crash down on him until he stepped into Qian's hospital room. His eyes fell upon three of her relatives seated inside, along with her three children, including Da Jian, who had traveled from out of town. Their faces were drawn with grief, their expressions heavy. At that moment, Qian had just woken up, and two of her siblings stood by her bedside, helping her sit up, while Da Jian stood nearby, holding a cup of tea meant for her.

Just the sight of their solemn faces sent another wave of guilt crashing over him. Was he the reason their sister lay in this condition? His world tilted further when Qian's eyes found his, locking onto him where he stood by the door.

This was the first time Shi Lei had seen her awake since being told she had regained consciousness. And in her gaze, he was pulled backward, drawn into the past, the flood of memories forming a relentless tide that swallowed him whole.Twenty years ago…

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

"Are you sure everything is in place?"

Fen's voice came through the phone, steady yet cautious.

Min gave a small, fleeting smile, one that barely touched her lips. She popped her chewing gum before replying, "No issues at all. Didn't you say it was just for two weeks? Even if it takes longer, it won't be a problem—I can guarantee you that."

Fen chuckled on her end. "You've really landed yourself an opportunity, Min. This isn't just any deal; it's a golden one. He does this every year—looks for a woman to travel with him. And trust me, every single one of them walks away with more money than they ever imagined. Even your friend—after all the time I spent with her, I never introduced her to him. That should tell you how exclusive this is. So now, you need to start preparing your passport. I have someone who can handle everything quickly for you."

Min's smile deepened, this time reaching her heart. "Got it, Fen. I don't even know how to thank you properly. My whole life is about to change."

"You don't need to thank me," Fen replied smoothly. "Just remember to keep your mouth shut. As long as you stay quiet, you have nothing to worry about."

With that, the call ended, and Min lowered her phone onto her lap. She replayed Fen's words in her mind, then let out a soft, almost amused laugh.

Fen had no idea.

The power Min had begun to taste was intoxicating, and there was no way she was letting go. The idea of Fen constantly warning her to stay silent—telling her to watch her step—was nothing more than a nuisance now. That was the root of her hesitation when it came to introducing her to the powerful men funding her new life.

But she had no regrets.

Min followed Fen's lead without question, grateful for the doors she had opened for her. Without her, Zhan would have probably tried to push her into a different path, controlling her decisions the way he had always done. But fate had taken an unexpected turn, leading her into a world he had no influence over.

Even her family had begun to move on from Zhan's absence, no longer dwelling on what had happened. Only Hao continued his relentless search, unwilling to let go. But the rest? Even their mother had learned to forget. These days, only Ma Jing ever mentioned his name, carrying a grief that the others had long since buried.

But for Mama and Ning, ever since she redirected their focus with the money she gave them, nothing else mattered except her and everything that concerned her. That was why all of Hao's efforts to challenge her and curb her new habits had little to no effect. Mama always defended her, and even Ning eventually accepted it.

Nei had already visited with his parents, and their wedding date had been set for ten months later. Min was the one financing the purchase of all her wedding items, since Hao was now focused on saving up for his own wedding. Because of this, Ning had given up on criticizing her, choosing instead to embrace her wholeheartedly, knowing that Min wouldn't let her be embarrassed by a lack of wedding necessities.

That was why Min acted as she pleased, without restraint. Even Kai, whom she used to fear when he questioned her about her money, had now stopped pressing her. Whatever she said was final, and no one asked where she went or where she had been. The only reason she exercised some caution was because she had never spent a night outside the house. No matter how late she stayed out, she always came home—and no one questioned her.

But now, with Fen assuring her that this two-week trip with the man she had been talking about would bring her fortune beyond measure, nothing was going to stop her from going.

So, she got up and headed to Mama's room. It was four in the afternoon, and Ma Jing had already finished the noisy lunch rush, leaving only a simmering pot of tofu and a pile of dirty dishes in the courtyard.

Min ignored the mess and made her way inside, telling herself that she was close to outgrowing this house altogether.

"Look, none of this is necessary," Mama said, shaking her head as she looked at Ning, who was showing her pictures of kitchenware on her phone.

"Oh, come on, Mama! Times have changed. Cooking isn't what it used to be. These are just appliances to make things easier. At the very least, they show you have a certain standard."

"Let's focus on the important purchases first. If we have extra money later, you can get these," Mama replied.

Ning laughed, shaking her head. "Mama, these aren't cheap. Each one has its own value. Some of our relatives are only contributing a thousands yuan—how is that going to cover all of this?"

Just then, Min walked into the room.

"Don't worry about it. If it's kitchen suppliers, you'll get everything you need and more. I just got off the phone with my boyfriend—he found me a job in Zibo."

"Really?" Mama asked.

"Yes, it's a food distribution job for the needy, and it lasts two weeks. He managed to get my name on the list, and he said we'll be paid very well."

Mama's face lit up with a smile. "That's wonderful! Ning, you should go with her."

"Are you sure, Mama? I was hoping to visit my friend's place. It wouldn't be fair for both of us to stay at their house for that long."

"That's true," Mama agreed. "It's not right to impose on them for two whole weeks."

"I just hope they pay you on time," Ning commented. "Jobs like this tend to have delayed payments."

"Oh, don't worry. He told me we'd get paid immediately after the work is done. It's a big deal since the job was arranged by a politician. That's how he got me in."

Mama nodded. "That's great to hear."

"Mama, he also asked me to apologize on his behalf. He couldn't visit yet—he's still out of the country."

"Oh, that's fine. We talk on the phone often enough, so that's enough for me."

Min smiled to herself, thinking about the old man who ran the oil shop at the end of their street. She paid him two thousand yuan every time she needed to stage a phone call, pretending he was her wealthy benefactor.

"When are you leaving?" Mama asked.

"There's no set date yet. I need to get my paperwork sorted first."

"May we all be safe until then," Mama said.

Both Min and Ning responded, "Amen."

But what neither Min nor Fen knew was that fate had many forms. If you escaped one, you would only find another waiting for you. And this trip Min was about to take—it was only the beginning. It would set in motion a chain of events that none of them could foresee, events that time itself was simply waiting to bring into their lives.

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

"Still no trace of it?"

Yibo asked over the phone, pressing it against his ear as he leaned against his car in the hospital parking lot.

On the other end of the line, Guang was updating him about his missing phone and the ongoing but fruitless efforts to track it down.

"Nothing yet. They told me it looks like the phone hasn't been used at all—it's just sitting somewhere inactive. That's why no matter where I check, there's nothing to trace."

Yibo ran a hand over his nose, watching the steady flow of people moving in and out of the hospital entrance.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Guang. I think whoever took your phone is connected to me somehow."

"How?"

"Did you forget that I'm being hunted in Beijing because of that case?"

"I know, but why would someone come all the way from Beijing to Guangzhou just to steal my phone?"

A faint smirk played on Yibo's lips.

"In this line of work, anything is possible, Guang. What seems impossible to you is effortless for them. That's why I need you to confirm—aside from my number, is there anything else of mine on that phone? Any photos, anything?"

"Do you even take pictures?" Guang scoffed.

"Where do you think I get the passport photos they use for my documents?"

Guang shook his head from his end.

"You're not serious, Yibo. The only thing of yours I have is your list of numbers, and honestly, I don't even know how many there are."

Yibo let out a slow exhale.

"Alright, that makes things easier."

"Where's your husband?"

The word hit Yibo's chest strangely. The way Guang said it so bluntly made it feel inappropriate—like it should have been wrapped in some kind of subtlety.

"I can't believe you actually got married and I didn't tell anyone, Yibo," Guang added, making Yibo run a hand over his face.

"It's not a real marriage, Guang. You know the circumstances, so don't start treating it like something it's not."

"Still, he's your husband in name. And trust me, if your story ever gets written, his name will be in it."

Yibo shook his head.

"Are we really doing this?"

Guang burst out laughing.

"Fine, fine, I'll drop it. So, any progress on the guy you were investigating?"

"The officers handling the case are doing their best, but I've been told that things have gone cold. The case is practically being pushed aside. And you know Shi Lei—he's not the type to just let his son's death slide, even if they didn't have a good relationship. Especially when I'm the prime suspect. That makes two reasons why this whole situation doesn't add up."

"But they haven't found anything yet?"

"It's not that simple, Guang. They have to move carefully—one wrong step, and they'll get exposed."

There was a sigh from the other end of the call.

"You're right. Let's just hope things work out."

Before Yibo could respond, he spotted one of the security guards he had been waiting for walking out of the hospital, heading in his direction.

"I'll call you back, Guang," he said, ending the call just as the guard reached him.

"Sir, the doctors are done. You can go in now."

"Alright, let's go."

Yibo followed the security guard inside, walking down the long, sterile hallways lined with patient rooms. When they arrived at a guarded door, two more security personnel nodded in greeting before stepping aside to let Yibo through.

The room was a standard high-end hospital suite, filled with the cool hum of the air conditioning. As soon as Yibo entered, his gaze landed on Shada sitting on the bed. His face was almost entirely wrapped in bandages, and the few areas that weren't were swollen and discolored, making him look nothing like the man Yibo had first encountered holding a gun to his head.

Yibo shut the door behind him and slowly approached the bed. Shada's eyes were already locked on him, watching his every move.

Without saying a word, Yibo pulled a chair closer and sat down.

"I know it's pointless to ask how you're feeling, but given your condition, I have to ask anyway. How's your health?"

As expected, Shada didn't answer. He just kept staring.

Yibo set his 2 phones aside and adjusted his posture.

"Let's get straight to the point since that's what you seem to prefer. You know why you're here, right? It's because you made a promise—to talk. To give us the information we need. Otherwise, you wouldn't still be breathing right now. So, I suggest you start talking before time runs out. Because if I have to put you back in that hellhole, trust me—the suffering you're experiencing now is nothing compared to what's waiting for you."

Several seconds passed before Shada's mind fully grasped the situation and made the decision his heart urged him toward. Clearing his throat, he spoke for the first time in days.

"My name is Yin Shada, but everyone calls me Shada."

Yibo's face remained expressionless, showing no sign of surprise as he nodded slowly.

"Who do you work for, Shada? And who sent you to kill me?"

Shada shook his head.

"I wasn't ordered to kill you. If I had been, you wouldn't have had time to even see this gun, let alone process what was happening."

Yibo nodded in understanding.

"Then who gave you the order?"

"My employer."

"I know that. Tell me his name and why he sent you to capture me."

Still maintaining eye contact, Shada replied,

"I don't know the reason. I just take the jobs I'm given, get paid, i don't ask questions about what people have done or why they're being hunted."

"And who exactly are 'they'?"

"His name is Ping. I work for him, and he's the one who gave me your contract."

Yibo heard every word clearly, yet after the mention of Ping's name, his mind struggled to process the rest.

Ping? Did he mean the same Ping Yibo knew? Or someone else? Could it be the very Ping they had been hunting, the one others wanted to use for their own revenge against the agency? But how did Ping even know about him? Or had the agency assigned Yibo's capture to Ping, blaming him for something?

He shook his head. No, that wasn't possible. The agency didn't work with people like Ping. Every one of their operatives was a trained professional, educated in multiple disciplines.

So why was Ping after him at the exact moment they were searching for Ping? There had to be more to this. Something was missing. But for now, Yibo had only one priority—finding Ping.

"Do you know where Ping is?"

Shada gave him a long, unreadable look. Yibo could have sworn he saw the hint of a smirk beneath the bandages covering Shada's face before he finally spoke.

"Don't worry. If it's Ping you're looking for, I can assure you, he's already on his way here. Unless, of course, you're not that important to him."

At that moment, a sharp sense of foreboding hit Yibo. Something clicked in his mind. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and quickly dialed Shan Tunan's number.

But fate had already beaten him by a few crucial seconds.

🔹🔸▫️

Inside his hotel room, Ping leaned back in his chair, watching the movement of people in a building courtyard displayed on his computer screen.

"Are you sure this is as far as you can get?" he asked the large man sitting across from him, fingers flying over his keyboard.

The man had been working tirelessly to breach the CCTV system inside Shan Tunan's office building. Since arriving in Shenzhen, Ping had used his skills to track down the office's location by tracing a tiny tracker embedded in the coat of one of his captured men.

Now, they had secured a hotel close to the target and were working on disabling the security feeds to get real-time visuals inside. However, despite his hacker's best efforts, they had only managed to access the cameras in the outer courtyard. It seemed the building had its own cyber experts—perhaps ones even better than them.

And that only made things more interesting.

Ping continued observing the courtyard, trying to determine exactly what kind of place this was and what was happening inside. He had worked with his subordinate for years, and the boy had never failed a mission before. That meant there had to be something unique about this target.

Who exactly was Yibo? And what was he involved in?

"Boss…"

Emmanuel, who stood beside him, spoke, but Ping didn't turn to look at him. He simply gestured with his hand for him to continue.

"The scout we sent confirmed that Yibo is not inside the building."

Ping nodded slightly. That wasn't surprising—about twenty minutes ago, he had already seen their agent arrive and send back the initial report via the cameras.

"His car isn't there, and two different sources confirmed he hasn't come to work at all today."

Ping nodded again, signaling that he understood. There was no more useful information to be gathered from here. Setting the tablet down on the table in front of him, he stood up.

"Let the game begin, Emmanuel. Whoever this Yibo is, he will come to me himself. That's the whole reason I came to this city."

Emmanuel nodded, then pulled out his phone and dialed a number. After a single ring, the call connected.

"Proceed."

That was all he said before ending the call.

Barely a minute later, the image displayed on Ping's tablet—showing the courtyard of Shan Tunan's office—shuddered violently before the entire screen was consumed by a cloud of black smoke. An explosion. The signal cut out instantly.

At that same moment, a car pulled up on the street outside Shan Tunan's residence.

The driver turned and glanced at the woman sitting in the backseat before handing her a phone.

"Madam, if this is the correct address, then we've arrived. There's only one location like this in the entire city."

Wu Jing took the phone from his hand and slowly rolled down the window, peering outside. So this was where Yibo had been when he answered her call?

Her gaze landed on the house standing just ahead of her, and a smile played on her lips.

Indeed, a person had the power to shape their own world into a paradise. Right now, there was nothing else she wanted more than this.

What had her friend Bing told her?

She had finally found Yibo's location!

🔹🔸▫️

In the heart of Beijing, inside the main headquarters of the police force, an officer pushed open the door of a small, dimly lit room.

Above the entrance, faded letters spelled out "Inner Store."

The room was tucked away in the depths of the building, a place where even sunlight struggled to reach. Holding his phone in one hand, the officer used its flashlight to illuminate his way as he stepped inside.

Dust filled the air, making him cough slightly. Rows upon rows of filing cabinets lined the walls, each packed with countless folders, their labels marked by numbers for easy reference. The cabinets themselves were also numbered, meant to help officers quickly locate specific case files.

But he wasn't feeling optimistic. The file he had been sent to retrieve was from a case more than a decade old—something long buried and forgotten. It had only resurfaced now because one of the individuals involved had grown wealthier and more influential. With his newfound power, he had demanded the case be reopened.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, the officer moved further into the room. Then, his foot struck something.

He shone his flashlight downward. A file lay on the floor.

Annoyed, he let out another sharp breath. So much for an organized archive. If files were being left scattered like this, who knew what else was misplaced?

He considered ignoring it. But at the last second, he crouched down and picked it up.

The moment he read the name on the cover, his breath caught in his throat.

Lei Peng, Suspected Murder Information!

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛