THEIR WORTH...

Year 1990

Hong Kong, China.

The small elementary school office was in complete disarray—chairs and desks overturned, drawers left open with their contents spilling onto the floor, and stacks of papers scattered everywhere.

Ping, still in his early years at the time, pressed the small pistol in his hand harder against the forehead of the kneeling school principal, whose hands were tied behind his back.

"Are you sure her file is in here?"

The principal trembled, sweat dripping down his face as he stammered, "I swear, sir! I'm certain it's here. No matter how old our staff records are, we never discard them." His voice quivered in broken Macau as his entire body shook.

Ping glanced at his men, who were still ransacking the office, and ordered them to continue searching. Then, turning back to the principal, he repeated the promise he had made when they first stormed the school.

"This will be your last day on earth if that file isn't found."

The principal nodded frantically, his fear evident as he silently recited every prayer he could remember. Fortunately for him, within five minutes, one of Ping's men found the file they were searching for.

"This is it, sir! Here it is!"

He handed the file to Ping, who snatched it eagerly, his eyes immediately scanning the attached passport photo—the reason for his presence here. The picture of Liu, her small passport photo affixed to the employment records of the school where she had once worked.

His gaze locked onto her face in the picture, a faint smile captured in time. She wore a white blouse, just like the one she had on the last time he saw her… the day everything fell apart. It hadn't even been a year since her death, yet it felt like a decade—perhaps even longer.

He saw her constantly in his dreams, haunted by her presence, unable to escape the unrest that clung to him like a shadow. A sharp pang of regret struck him every time he thought about her. Even the men he had ordered to raped her that day...the ones who carried out his orders regarding her...he had dismissed them all. He couldn't bear to see them without being reminded of her screams when everything unfolded.

He had gone to their house himself, searching through the remnants of her belongings that hadn't been taken by neighbors. But there was nothing left that could keep her memory alive for him. That was why he had come here...her workplace...certain that they wouldn't have discarded her photo. And now, here it was.

With careful fingers, he removed the picture from the file. His other hand, still gripping the gun, slowly lowered from the principal's forehead.

This was the moment he first came into possession of the tiny passport photo that, even after all these years, he still clutched in his shaking hands. His gaze flickered between the picture and the young man before him.

Without hesitation, he moved toward them—the two captives tied up on the floor, wrists and ankles bound. He grabbed Zhan's tear-streaked face, forcing him to look up. Holding the photo in one hand, he stared at Zhan, then at the picture again.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Zhan..." His voice trembled, his entire body shaking.

Ping narrowed his eyes, pressing the photo against Zhan's face.

"Then who is this? Who is she?"

Zhan shook his head frantically. "I don't know… I don't know who she is."

Ping exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before standing up. He turned toward Emmanuel, who was standing in the dimly lit room.

"Are you certain this is the boy you saw him with?"

Emmanuel nodded quickly, his fear evident. "I'm sure, sir. We saw them together just minutes before they left with that other young woman."

Ping turned back to Zhan, who had lowered his head against Guri, the girl next to him whose mouth was still taped shut, tears streaming down her face.

He glanced at the picture again before walking over to a cluttered desk, shuffling through scattered documents until he found another photograph...this time of Yibo.

Staring at Yibo's face in the picture, Ping ran a hand over his head. Whoever this Yibo was, he was important.

"Emmanuel..." He called out without turning around.

"Yes, sir!"

"Send him a message. Tell him where to find us. I need to meet this Yibo."

"Understood, sir."

With that, Ping turned and left the room. But before he stepped out, he cast one final glance at Zhan.

The difference between the boy kneeling before him and the girl in the picture was minimal—so slight that if not for his own instincts, he might have sworn with his life that Zhan was Liu.

Placing both hands on his head, he released a deep breath, feeling a strange pull within him. Back when he was at the height of his youth, he had never felt this kind of uncertainty. But now, age was creeping in, threatening to consume him entirely.

Now that things were slipping from his grasp, Ping finally began to process everything—the complications surrounding this case from the start to this very moment, where it felt like he was trapped in one of the nightmares Liu used to haunt him with.

Without another thought, he reached for the intercom, dialing the line that connected him to the other rooms occupied by his men in the hotel. They hadn't just taken a few rooms—they had practically secured an entire wing of the building.

Less than a minute later, the man he had summoned entered, immediately grabbing Zhan and sealing his mouth with tape again before dragging them away. He was returned to the same locked room where they had been held earlier, along with their driver, who was still restrained.

Ping leaned back in the chair, lighting a cigarette, his gaze fixed on the thin wisp of smoke curling upward. As it dissipated, he found himself comparing it to the chaos in his mind, wondering which was heavier.

A while later, the door creaked open again. Emmanuel stepped in, intending to approach, but the moment he caught sight of his boss's expression, he hesitated, stopping just inside the doorway.

"What happened?" Ping asked without looking at him.

"The message has been delivered, sir."

"And?" Ping pressed, knowing there had to be more.

"You have a visitor, sir."

Ping immediately turned, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he narrowed his eyes.

"A visitor? In this city? Who?"

"She didn't give her name, sir, but she said you'd be expecting her."

Ping was silent for a few moments before motioning with his hand, giving permission for her to be let in.

Emmanuel nodded and exited, leaving the door slightly open. Moments later, he returned—with Wu Jing, looking as refined and elegant as ever.

🔸▫️🔹

Zhao Min sat beside her husband's hospital bed, watching over him with quiet devotion. Since the nurses had come in earlier to administer an injection, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

She adjusted her position slightly, silently thanking fate that Shan Tunan had survived. She couldn't even begin to imagine what her life would be like without him.

She had felt this same fear before—when she lost her first husband, Xiao Lei. Back then, she had believed her world had ended, that she would never find her footing again. The grief had been unbearable.

But somehow, through an unexpected twist of fate, Shan Tunan had come into her life. He had helped her move forward, had given her something to hold on to. And now, she had built a family with him—a family she didn't know how she could possibly protect if she were to lose him.

Gently, she reached out, adjusting his pillow to make him more comfortable. Then, taking a deep breath, she began gathering her things. It was time for her to leave.

Yibo had been staying at the hospital with him, and she was certain he'd be back soon, even though he had mentioned stopping by home to change his clothes.

Just as she was about to stand, her phone buzzed on the bedside drawer. She quickly grabbed it, worried that the sound might disturb Shan Tunan's sleep.

Ms. Er. Che's name appeared on the screen, so Zhao Min answered, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"Good evening, ma'am."

"Yes, good evening. I hope everything is alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine. It's just that the youngest one is making a fuss because you haven't returned yet, and now she insists on coming over."

Zhao Min frowned slightly. "What about Guri and the others?"

"They haven't come back yet, ma'am, not since you left."

"They haven't come back? But they left at four."

"Well, we haven't seen them, and honestly, I didn't expect you to be out this late either."

"I'm coming over now."

She ended the call, her mind racing. Could they have gone to Guri's friend's house? She had forbidden her from going there, but even if they had, there was no way they would stay this long.

She quickly dialed Guri's number, but the automated message informed her that the phone was switched off.

A cold wave of anxiety washed over her. Her hands trembled as she redialed repeatedly, but the outcome remained the same.

She turned to look at Shan Tunan, who was still asleep. Without realizing it, she murmured a curse under her breath, panic surging through her. What had happened? Where were they? Who should she call now?

Yibo.

Without hesitation, she reached for Shan Tunan's phone from the bedside table. She didn't have Yibo's number saved in hers, but she found it in Shan Tunan's contacts and called immediately.

The line barely rang before Yibo picked up.

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute..."

His voice was urgent, as if he had been expecting the call.

"It's me, not him," Zhao Min interrupted before he could say more. "I think something is wrong. Guri and Zhan left for home after you did, but I just got a call saying they never arrived. I've tried calling them, but all their phones are off..."

The sudden screech of brakes through the phone cut her off. Then, silence.

Before she could say another word, the call disconnected.

A wave of dizziness hit her, her body growing weak, her legs like overcooked noodles. She sank into the chair beside the bed, her trembling hands fumbling to call Yibo again. But before she could dial, an incoming call flashed on her screen.

She answered without thinking, eyes squeezed shut against the darkness clouding her vision.

"Hello... Zhao Min, it's Qian!"

🔹▫️🔸

When Yibo slammed his foot on the brakes, he was lucky there were no cars right behind him—otherwise, the situation could have been much worse. Vehicles from the side streets swerved around him, their drivers glaring at him in confusion, while those behind him honked furiously.

Ignoring the chaos, he disconnected the call and quickly navigated through his phone. He pulled up Guri's number, the one he had linked to a tracking app.

Switching on his data, he scrolled through the phone's recorded locations from the past two days. He traced the movement of the signal, following it up to the last recorded point—the exact location where the phone had gone dark.

It wasn't far from where he was now.

A cold dread settled in his chest.

No... This can't be happening. Could Shada's warning have been real?

Gritting his teeth, he yanked the steering wheel, forcing the car into a sharp turn. The blaring horns and curses from other drivers were meaningless to him now.

But then....

Before he could push the accelerator any further, his phone buzzed with a notification.

A message.

A single line that made his heartbeat hammer in his chest, a sensation he hadn't felt in so long, he had almost forgotten it.

No. 234... You have one chance to see them before the night is over.

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

Flashback: Wu Jing and Ping's Encounter on the Plane

After finding her seat on the plane, Wu Jing placed the documents she had been holding into her bag and zipped it up. She didn't bother looking at anyone around her; instead, she turned her head to the side, lost in her own thoughts and calculations. A few minutes passed before she sensed someone taking the seat beside her. When she glanced over, she saw an elderly man adjusting his position, but she quickly averted her gaze, continuing to focus on her mental plans.

Minutes after takeoff, she felt his eyes on her. Though she didn't look directly at him, she knew he was studying her intently.

"Traveling alone?" he finally asked. "Where's your husband?"

At first, she didn't respond. Then, slowly, she turned to him. He was clearly much older, his years evident on his face. From the way he spoke, she immediately understood his intentions and what kind of man she was dealing with.

"He's busy with his own matters," she replied curtly.

The man gave a knowing smile, revealing yellowed teeth that hinted at years of smoking. "Good, that's very good. I like families like that—where everyone is free to do as they please, no restrictions."

This time, Wu Jing gave him a cold, dismissive look. She had already figured him out, and if he thought she was the type to entertain just any man, he was gravely mistaken. She didn't say another word, turning her attention away from him.

He seemed to understand her disinterest and didn't push further. That, in itself, told her he wasn't an ordinary man—he had his own level of influence.

It wasn't until the plane was preparing to land that she heard him unzip his carry-on bag. Curious, she glanced at him just as he tore a piece of paper and began writing on it. What happened next took her completely by surprise.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a stack of crisp bills—brand-new five-thousand-yuan notes—along with the note he had written. Without hesitation, he placed them on her lap.

"In Shenzhen, this is where I'll be staying," he said. "If you're interested in making more money, you can find me before I leave the city."

That was all he said before turning away, showing no further interest in whether she responded or not. Wu Jing, on the other hand, remained silent, staring at the money and the note on her lap.

The only thing that surprised her more than his audacity was the fact that they were headed to the same destination.

When they disembarked, she spotted him again, surrounded by a group of men who appeared to be his subordinates. They flanked him, carrying his bags as they walked toward the exit. Watching this, she felt an odd sense of relief that she hadn't acted impulsively and responded in a way she might have regretted.

Later that day, after receiving the distressing confirmation from her informant...that Yibo was indeed married...Wu Jing barely remembered how she made it back to her hotel. Her mind raced with calculations on how to salvage her crumbling plans.

"Wu Jing, how many times do I have to tell you?" Bing, her closest friend, scolded over the phone. "Stop all this nonsense and come take the sheman medicine. I've told you, it's guaranteed to work. You'll get what you want without all this stress."

Wu Jing shook her head, as if Bing could see her. "Drop it, Bing. You and I both know we've tried every trick on Yibo, and none of them have worked. I need to handle this my way. I know for sure I'll get him this time."

Bing let out a frustrated sigh. She had lost count of how many times she had advised Wu Jing to move on from Yibo and return to her usual lifestyle—flirting and playing games with various men as she had before she met him. But Wu Jing never listened. Her heart had been set on Yibo for too long.

Especially now.

She had gone so far as to leave Xu Liang—the man she had been using as a cover in a fake marriage—to pursue Yibo without restrictions.

From the very first day she had met him, the day Xu Liang had introduced him as his younger brother and their new housemate, she had known there would be no other man for her.

"So, what's your plan now? What are you going to do?"

Bing asked over the phone.

Wu Jing adjusted her position on the hotel bed and replied,

"You said you don't have any contacts here, but I might have someone who can help. I met a man on the plane who seems powerful enough to track down Yibo for me, exactly where I want. He also mentioned that he's here in Shenzhen."

"Track him down? How? You already have his address. Why not just go there?"

Wu Jing simply shook her head.

"Don't worry about that. Let me find my contact first. You'll hear from me soon."

She ended the call, pressing her fingers to her temples as she calculated her next move. After weighing her options, she gathered her resolve and headed toward Ping's suite, where he was waiting.

Ping watched as Wu Jing entered, following behind Emmanuel. Just like the last time he saw her, she was elegantly dressed, exuding sophistication. He wasn't sure why, but something about Chinese women had always intrigued him... their style, their grace, their meticulousness. It was that very fascination that had drawn him to Liu in the first place.

He had once wanted to marry a Chinese woman, but his line of work had made that impossible. Then his current wife came along, using her manipulations to bend him to her will until he had no choice but to marry her. Even now, despite knowing the truth, he didn't care... he lived his life as he pleased, and so did she.

Wu Jing settled into the chair across from him while Emmanuel, seeing his boss's approval, turned and left.

Ping studied her from head to toe before smirking. He set his cigarette down in the tray beside him and gestured toward a large black bag on the floor. Wu Jing glanced at it before looking back at him.

"It's money," he said. "Take as much as you want and leave. You showed up too late... I'm not interested in asking for anything from you anymore."

To his surprise, Wu Jing only smiled and shook her head.

"I didn't come here for money, sir. I came for a favor."

Ping raised an intrigued brow.

"And what kind of favor is that?"

"There's someone I'm searching for in Shenzhen, but despite all my efforts, I haven't been able to find him. I believe your people have the resources to trace him for me. I've dealt with men like yours before—that's why I came to you."

Ping studied her carefully, surprised by how different her words were from what he had initially assumed.

"And why should I help you when I have no need for you?"

Wu Jing smirked, her voice laced with amusement.

"Maybe you don't need me right now, sir. But who's to say you won't change your mind by tomorrow?"

Ping let out a deep, hearty laugh, the sound filling the room. He even lifted his feet off the ground in amusement before pointing at her.

"You're something else! I wouldn't mind keeping you around." He leaned forward, still grinning. "Fine, I'll help. I have my own matters to deal with, but yours shouldn't be too difficult. Who is it you want me to find?"

Wu Jing's smirk deepened. She was already thinking ahead, strategizing how to handle this man who, despite his rough edges, held undeniable power.

Adjusting her posture, she reached into her bag and pulled out a neatly folded file. Standing up, she walked toward him, his eyes following her every movement.

"I believe this contains everything your people will need to track him down," she said, handing him the file.

He took it, his gaze never leaving hers.

At that moment, Emmanuel returned to the room. Just as he was about to turn and leave, Ping stopped him and handed him the file.

"Make sure this doesn't take too long."

Then, Ping turned back to Wu Jing.

"Do you want just his location, or do you want him brought to you?"

Wu Jing shook her head.

"I just want him delivered to me. I'll handle everything else."

Ping didn't say anything. Instead, he glanced at Emmanuel, who nodded in understanding and said,

"Sir, there's still no response from him, so we don't think he's coming."

Ping studied him for a moment before a slow, knowing smile spread across his face.

"Certainly, he's not as foolish as I thought."

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

"Are you sure you'll be staying for two weeks?"

Mama asked as she looked at Min, who was sitting on the couch, tapping away on her phone while chewing gum loudly enough to fill the room with noise.

Min glanced up with a tired expression, then reached into her bag, pulled out a small red booklet, and held it up.

"Mama, this is my return ticket for exactly two weeks from now. If I don't come back by then, I guess I'll have to take a bus."

Mama nodded.

"Well, since you managed to book a flight here and back, I doubt you'd let that go to waste. Have you called your friend to let her know you're on your way?"

Min nodded.

"Yeah, we talked. Where did Ning go?"

"She went to get some change for me."

"The driver just texted—he's almost here. Once I leave, that's it."

"Oh, come on, Min, Ning will be back any second. You should have told the driver we'd take you to the airport ourselves and let him bring us back."

"Mama, I don't want to trouble him too much. He's already doing a lot."

"Hmm, that's true. We shouldn't take his kindness for granted."

Min sighed, reached into her bag again, and pulled out a stack of cash, handing twenty thousand to her mother.

"Mama, here, use this for groceries. I know it'll help Hao and the others with the expenses."

Mama frowned.

"What do you mean 'help'? Lately, no one has given me a single cent in this house! The only reason we even have food is because of the money you give."

She took the cash just as Hao entered, lifting the curtain to step inside. His eyes immediately landed on the money in Mama's hands and then on Min, who was fully dressed and ready to leave.

Hao simply said,

"Mama, I'm heading out."

Without stepping further inside, he turned and walked out of the house, his heart heavy with frustration. He couldn't believe how quickly Mama's attitude had changed. He and Kai had caused all sorts of chaos in the house, arguing about Min's behavior and the things she was doing. But in the end, Mama had firmly declared that she would curse anyone who dared pressure Min again. From that moment on, they had no choice but to step back and become silent observers.

Min dialed the number of the driver she had been given. When he answered, she confirmed that she was ready to leave and would be stepping out soon. After hanging up, a sudden chill ran through her.

For days now, they had been working tirelessly to secure her visa and passport for India. It was all arranged by Fen, who had connected her with the man she was supposed to travel with. Every night since, she had gone to bed excited, anticipating the journey. But now that everything was set, an odd feeling crept over her.

She couldn't pinpoint what was making her uneasy, especially today, the very day of her departure. Was it because she had never met the man before? Fen and her men had handled everything, and now she would only meet him at the airport.

She told herself it was just nerves—flying, leaving the country—but no matter how much she reasoned, the unease remained.

After saying her goodbyes to Mama and even Ma Jing—who shamelessly followed them all the way to the front of the house—Min's eyes fell on a small piece of paper she had left on top of the wardrobe in her room. She hope to pick it up when she returned…if she returned.

Her gaze lingered on the few lines she had scribbled on it:

If anything happens to me, contact Fen... I don't want what happened to Zhan to happen to me too...

Where is Yibo?

What do you think is stopping Yibo from looking for Ping right now?

What is Zhuo Min caught up in? What message did she receive from Qian?

What is about to happen to Min?

Where is Shi Lei?

Wu Jing… she has certainly brought her issue to where she suppose to...

Zhanxianyibo💚❤️💛