The China Merchants Bank in the East District stood on an old historic street.
Its antique-style building of blue bricks and grey tiles looked elegant at first glance. Two stone lions squatted at the entrance, imposing in presence, though the chipped paint on their edges made them look slightly comical.
Su Ran paid the taxi fare but did not get out immediately.
She remained in the back seat, scanning the bank entrance through the window.
9:03 a.m. The rolling shutter door had not yet been fully raised, but several elderly men and women were already gathered outside, each holding a small folding stool, chatting in lively groups.
There was no sign of an ambush.
The men under Bai Jingshan all looked the same, crew cuts, black T shirts, tight muscles under their sleeves, eyes sharp and scanning with obvious intent. They were highly recognizable.
The tallest “old man” at the entrance even carried a vegetable basket with a half wilted bunch of green onions sticking out, looking completely harmless.
The driver turned back. “Miss, we’re here.”
Su Ran gave a soft sound of acknowledgment and stepped out of the car.
The morning sunlight was blinding.
She lowered her head and blended into the crowd of elderly people, taking a spot near the back of the queue.
A nearby woman was very friendly, assuming Su Ran was there for free eggs. She leaned over and said, “When the doors open, go straight to window three. That young lady there is the fastest. I got two jin of eggs last time thanks to her.”
Su Ran forced a faint smile but did not respond.
Her fingers were tucked into her pocket, gripping a thin bank card.
It was left behind by the original owner of the body. The account was opened in South City, and it originally held only a few hundred yuan. Now it represented all her capital.
At 9:15 a.m., the rolling shutter doors rattled open.
The crowd surged forward instantly, folding stools abandoned as everyone rushed in.
Su Ran was swept along with them, barely steadying herself.
She did not go to window three. Instead, she took a regular service number, A107.
Six people were ahead of her.
She found a corner seat and sat down.
The bank’s air conditioning was strong, sending a chill across the back of her neck.
She glanced at her phone.
On the screen was Fu Yechuan’s last location message, a café opposite the West City ICBC branch. He was already there.
Time moved slowly.
Each beep of the queue system tightened her fingers a little more.
The clerks behind the counter wore professional smiles, mechanically handling transactions.
Account opening, closures, transfers, financial products.
Processes she had seen countless times in her past life as a top financial analyst now felt strangely unfamiliar.
She was no longer Su Ran the elite analyst.
She was the prey of the Bai family.
A mobile vault holding over seven million yuan, one misstep away from being swallowed whole.
“A107, please go to window two.”
Su Ran stood up. Her legs were slightly numb from sitting.
She walked to window two and sat down.
The clerk was a young woman in her early twenties with baby fat on her face. She gave a standard eight-teeth smile.
“Hello, what service would you like to handle?”
“Transfer.”
Su Ran handed over her ID and bank card.
“How much would you like to transfer?”
“All of it.”
The young woman paused and looked up at her.
Su Ran was dressed simply in a white T shirt and jeans. Her entire outfit probably cost less than two hundred yuan, so the clerk clearly assumed “all of it” meant a small amount.
But when she checked the balance, her expression froze.
Two million four hundred five thousand five hundred yuan.
Her fingers hovered above the keyboard as she looked up again, her gaze turning cautious.
“Miss, such a large transfer requires an appointment in advance.”
“I made one yesterday,” Su Ran replied calmly.
She had already anticipated this.
“Which account manager did you make it with?”
“I don’t remember his name. Male, glasses. He said I could come directly today.”
The clerk hesitated and reached for the phone to call the floor manager.
Su Ran tapped her fingers lightly on the counter.
“Is your bank efficiency this low? I’m in a hurry. This money is going into one of your investment products. The manager said it must arrive today. If I miss it, who will cover the loss?”
She emphasized “investment product” and “loss.”
After years in finance, she knew exactly where the pressure points were.
Banks feared nothing more than complaints that affected performance.
Sure enough, the clerk’s expression changed.
After a brief hesitation, she put the phone down.
“Which account should we transfer to?”
Su Ran took out a folded note from her pocket. It contained an offshore anonymous account number prepared long ago.
This was her backup plan, opened through special channels. The fees were outrageous, but the secrecy was excellent.
The clerk frowned even more after seeing the complicated account details.
“For overseas transfers, we need to verify the source of funds, and there is also an annual limit…”
“This is not a transfer,” Su Ran interrupted.
“Use the UnionPay channel. Treat it as a consumption transaction. I purchased something from an overseas website.”
She handed over another note, containing a fake order number and website information.
She had built it the previous night in the abandoned warehouse using her phone. The site was an empty shell, but it was convincing enough.
The clerk was completely confused.
Three years in the industry, and she had never seen such a structure.
She pressed the call button under the desk.
Soon, a middle aged man with a “Floor Manager” badge walked over.
He glanced at the screen, then at the two notes. His expression remained unreadable.
“Miss, please wait a moment.”
He took the clerk aside and spoke in a low voice.
Su Ran did not move, her eyes drifting to the wall clock.
9:42 a.m.
Too slow, a chill rose along her neck.
Someone was watching her.
Not an illusion.
That sticky, malicious gaze was pinned directly on her back.
Su Ran did not turn around.
Through the reflection on the glass partition, she saw a man sitting three rows away.
Grey jacket, baseball cap pulled low. He was not using his phone or looking at the queue screen. His gaze was locked onto her position.
A man from Bai Jingshan’s people.
Her fingertips turned cold.
They had found her. Even split routes could be traced.
The Bai family’s network in South City was deeply entrenched. Checking ride records and surveillance footage would not be difficult at all.
Then what about Fu Yechuan?
Had he also been exposed?
Su Ran forced herself to stay calm.
If she turned back now or acted abnormally, it would immediately signal that she had noticed them.
She had to act normal.
The floor manager returned.
“Miss Su, this transaction is a bit special. Please follow me to the VIP room for facial verification and a risk assessment questionnaire.”
A delay tactic disguised as compliance.
Su Ran stood up.
“Alright.”
She followed him inside. As she passed the man in the grey jacket, she did not glance sideways even once.
She could even smell faint cigarette smoke from him.
Inside the VIP room, the door closed.
The manager asked her to sit on a leather sofa and poured her a glass of water.
“Miss Su, don’t worry. It’s just that the amount is large. The anti money laundering system triggered a warning. We must follow procedure.”
Su Ran touched the glass. It was warm.
“How long will it take?”
“Very soon, please fill out this form.”
He handed her a tablet filled with dense risk assessment questions.
Annual income! Investment experience.
Awareness of transaction risks.
Su Ran almost laughed. She could answer all of them perfectly with her eyes closed.
She completed the form quickly and submitted it.
Then came facial verification.
Turn left, right, open mouth, blink. Like a trained puppet.
The manager took the documents and left again.
The room fell silent. A painting of smooth sailing hung on the wall, cliché but ironically fitting.
Su Ran set the glass down. A soft clink echoed.
She typed three dots and sent them to Fu Yechuan.
A coded signal. “I have a situation, but it is still under control.”
One second later, he replied with the same three dots.
He was also in trouble. Her temples throbbed.
She could not wait here. She began pacing the small room.
It was too small, a few steps from end to end.
The window was frosted, revealing nothing outside.
She pressed her ear against the door.
Silence! Only her heartbeat, loud like drums.
Ten minutes, twenty minutes.
The manager had not returned.
They were either stalling deliberately or waiting for instructions.
The Bai family had likely already locked her position through the bank.
The man in the grey jacket outside was only surveillance. The real group might already be on the way.
She had to finish the transfer before they arrived.
Su Ran opened the door. A security guard stood outside and raised a hand to stop her.
“Miss, the manager will be back soon. Please wait.”
“I’m going to the restroom.”
She pointed toward the end of the corridor.
After a brief hesitation, he let her pass.
In the restroom, she locked the door.
From behind the toilet tank, she pulled out a black plastic bag.
She had hidden it earlier when the manager was not paying attention, taken from a cleaning cart.
She removed her white T shirt and changed into a dark blue cleaning uniform.
It was oversized and smelled strongly of disinfectant.
She put on a cap and mask, then tucked her long hair inside.
In the mirror, her face was completely unrecognizable.
Su Ran opened the door and pushed a cleaning cart out, keeping her head lowered as she walked toward the hall.
Passing the VIP room, she saw the manager speaking with a man in a suit. The man’s presence was sharp and authoritative. He was not from the bank.
Su Ran continued forward.
In the waiting area, the man in the grey jacket was still seated.
He had shifted slightly, leaning back, his cap raised a little. His eyes were sharp as they scanned the area.
Her heart pounded painfully. She quickened her pace toward the exit.
“Hey, you, the cleaner.”
A sharp voice cut through the air.
Su Ran stopped. The grey jacket man had stood up and was walking toward her.
“You, come here.”
She slowly turned around, keeping her head down.
Her palms were drenched in sweat, gripping the cart tightly.
“The manager told you to come over. There’s water on the floor.”
He stood in front of her, looking down.
Her fingers went white. She was about to be exposed.
At that moment, a sharp notification rang out.
“Transaction successful.”
The baby faced clerk had completed the transfer and was looking for Su Ran to sign, only to realize she was gone.
The grey jacket man clearly heard it too.
He froze and turned back toward the counter.
That instant was enough. Su Ran slammed the cleaning cart forward.
Buckets, mops, and cleaning liquids flew toward him.
He instinctively dodged.
She ran. She sprinted with everything she had toward the exit.
The revolving door was too slow. She smashed through the disabled access side door instead.
The sunlight outside was blinding.
She crossed the street and glanced back.
The grey jacket man had already come out, covering his eyes where the cleaning liquid had hit, shouting into a walkie talkie.
More black clothed men rushed out of the bank.
She did not stop. She ran into a narrow alley and kept going until her lungs burned like fire. Only then did she stop, leaning against the wall, gasping for air.
Her phone vibrated wildly. Fu Yechuan was calling.
“Did it transfer?” His voice was urgent, breath uneven.
“It was transferred.” Su Ran coughed. Her throat hurt badly.
“And you?”
“My account is frozen.”
Her heart sank.
She opened her banking app. A red warning appeared.
“Your account has been temporarily frozen due to risk control. Please contact your bank.”
Bai Weiwei’s retaliation had come faster and more ruthlessly than she expected.
They now held millions in an anonymous account, yet they were both broke, unable to even buy a bottle of water.
“Where are you?” Fu Yechuan asked.
Su Ran looked around.
A strange alley covered in graffiti, filled with a foul smell.
“I don’t know.”
“Check the street sign.”
She walked to the entrance and saw a rusted sign.
“Peace Lane, Seventh Lane.”
“Stay there, don’t move.”
He hung up immediately. Su Ran slid down against the wall and sat on the ground.
The cleaning uniform was dirty and foul smelling, but she had no intention of taking it off.
It was her only disguise. She looked at her empty hands.
The money was gone.
But she and Fu Yechuan had become fugitives in South City, hunted by everyone.
After an unknown amount of time, a battered Wuling Hongguang van stopped at the alley entrance.
The door opened. Fu Yechuan leaned out from the driver’s seat.
He was wearing work clothes, his face smeared with black grease, hair messy, looking like a mechanic who had just finished a shift.
He glanced at her and said calmly, “Get in.”