“Are you scared?”
Su Ran lowered her head and looked at her hands.
They weren’t shaking.
Her legs were still weak, and her stomach churned with nausea, but her fingertips were steady without the slightest tremor.
“I am.”
She answered honestly, without trying to hide it.
Fu Yechuan’s brow twitched slightly.
He hadn’t expected her to admit it so directly.
“But scared or not, money still has to be made.”
Su Ran stuffed the necklace box into her bag, stepped around the groaning thugs sprawled across the floor, and headed for the door.
“Let’s go. The longer we stay here, the worse the bad luck.”
The moment she stepped out of the pawnshop, sunlight crashed onto her face, hot enough to make her dizzy.
Both sides of this street in West City were lined with mobile phone repair shops and stores selling industrial safety supplies. The air was thick with the smell of solder and cheap perfume.
Fu Yechuan followed her out.
There was a smear of blood on the hem of his trench coat.
He casually wiped the specks of blood from his face with his sleeve as though he were merely wiping away sweat.
Su Ran didn’t look at him.
Her mind was racing.
She had one hundred ten thousand yuan in cash.
The necklace hadn’t been liquidated yet.
The pawnshop’s valuation had been outrageously low. In the hands of a legitimate jeweler, the three-carat Heart of the Ocean could easily fetch more than six hundred thousand yuan.
But there wasn’t enough time.
Qiming Technology was currently trading at one yuan eighty per share. Tianhuan Group’s acquisition announcement would be released within five days at most.
They had to build their position before the news broke.
Otherwise, everything would be pointless.
“You can’t sell the necklace to a jeweler.”
Fu Yechuan’s voice drifted from behind her.
Su Ran turned around.
“It’s a custom designer piece. The serial number can be traced.”
He kept walking as he spoke.
“When I bought it, I used the Fu family’s membership account. Right now, the Fu family’s creditors are monitoring all of my assets. If this necklace enters a legitimate sales channel, it’ll be frozen within twenty-four hours.”
Su Ran stopped walking. She had forgotten about that.
The novel never mentioned this detail. It only stated that the original owner had pawned the necklace for one hundred eighty thousand yuan. It never mentioned the problem of converting it into cash later.
The original owner had never survived long enough to face that problem.
“You have a channel?” Su Ran asked.
Fu Yechuan didn’t answer.
Instead, he took out his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
His finger moved down the screen for quite some time before stopping on a number saved as Old Chen.
He didn’t call immediately.
He stared at the name for several seconds.
“I’m not sure if this one still works.”
He slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“Old Chen used to handle private asset transactions for the Fu family. After the Fu family collapsed, people like him were the first to run.”
“Try.”
“How do you know he’ll still answer my call?”
“I don’t.”
Su Ran said calmly. “But if you don’t call, you’ll never know.”
Fu Yechuan glanced at her. The look was complicated.
Not gratitude. Not trust.
More like someone reassessing the value of an unfamiliar commodity.
Then he dialed. The phone rang seven times.
Su Ran counted every ring. On the seventh ring, the call connected.
“Hello?”
The voice on the other end was cautious.
“Who’s this?”
“Old Chen. It’s Fu Yechuan.”
The line fell silent for three seconds before a lowered voice came through.
“Young Master Fu, let’s pretend this call never happened. It’s not convenient for me right now…”
“A custom three-carat diamond necklace.”
Fu Yechuan interrupted him.
“No paperwork, no invoices. Cash transaction, can you take it?”
Silence again! Standing nearby, Su Ran couldn’t hear what Old Chen was saying.
She could only see Fu Yechuan’s face.
There was almost no expression on it.
Calm to an abnormal degree.
When he finally hung up, he named a figure.
“Three hundred fifty thousand.”
Su Ran frowned. “The market value is one point two million. He’s only offering three hundred fifty thousand?”
“That’s already a favor.”
Fu Yechuan slipped the phone back into his pocket.
“My name is considered a toxic asset in this circle now. Anyone willing to touch my property has to factor in the risk of being pursued by creditors. At three hundred fifty thousand, he’s already gambling.”
Su Ran let it go.
Three hundred fifty thousand plus the one hundred ten thousand they already had.
A total of four hundred sixty thousand.
If all four hundred sixty thousand were invested in Qiming Technology at one yuan eighty per share, they could buy roughly two hundred fifty thousand shares.
And when the stock hit thirty yuan…
Seven and a half million. Fu Yechuan had definitely done the same calculation.
“Where’s the transaction taking place?” Su Ran asked.
“At a teahouse behind the old train station in North City.”
Fu Yechuan glanced at his watch. A crack ran across the face.
“Old Chen said eight o’clock tonight.”
It was currently three-thirty in the afternoon.
Four and a half hours remained.
“In that case, during this time…”
Before Su Ran could finish speaking, Fu Yechuan’s phone rang again.
He glanced at the caller ID, and the temperature around him seemed to drop.
It wasn’t tension.
It was something sharper, something deliberately suppressed and trying to break free.
“Zhou Zhe.”
As he spoke the name, he glanced toward Su Ran.
She said nothing. She merely shook her head slightly.
The meaning was obvious. Don’t reveal anything.
Fu Yechuan answered the call.
“President Fu!”
Zhou Zhe’s voice spilled from the speaker, urgent and loyal, every syllable perfectly controlled.
“I’ve just uncovered some information regarding the Nanan Project…”
“Ah Zhe.”
Fu Yechuan interrupted him. His tone sounded completely normal.
“I may need to go out tonight. Keep an eye on things over there. Contact me immediately if anything comes up.”
“Where are you going? I’ll come with you.”
“No need. Personal business.”
The person on the other end paused.
Briefly! So briefly that most people would never notice.
But Su Ran did. That pause was an evaluation.
A calculation of information value.
“Understood, President Fu. Please stay safe.”
Zhou Zhe hung up.
Fu Yechuan held the phone in his hand, his thumb rubbing along the edge of the screen.
“He asked where you were going,” Su Ran said.
“Mm.”
“You didn’t tell him.”
“Mm.”
“He won’t give up.”
Su Ran walked a few steps forward and sat on a roadside curb. Her high heels had rubbed the backs of her feet raw, and the pain felt like fire.
“With Zhou Zhe’s personality, if you don’t tell him, he’ll investigate on his own.”
Fu Yechuan remained standing.
His shadow fell over her, shielding her from the scorching sunlight.
“How do you know about Zhou Zhe?”
There it was. Sooner or later, she knew this question would come.
She had prepared her answer long ago.
“You have your information channels. I have mine.”
She recycled the same explanation she had used before.
Fu Yechuan looked down at her.
From this angle, his jawline appeared especially sharp, while loose strands of hair cast faint shadows across his brow.
“The same answer doesn’t work twice.”
Su Ran met his gaze.
Fine! “Do you believe in fate?” she asked.
Fu Yechuan didn’t respond.
“I do.”
Su Ran continued.
“I believe that at certain key moments, a person’s destiny can be seen. Whether you believe it or not, that’s the only explanation I can give you.”
Her tone was calm.
There was no attempt at mysticism.
After speaking, she said nothing more.
Fu Yechuan stared at her for a long time.
The look wasn’t under scrutiny. It was confusion.
The kind that came from the heart and couldn’t be explained through logic.
He had known Su Ran for three years.
For those three years, he thought he had seen through her completely.
Materialistic.
Vain, calculating.
Cold at her core.
But the woman standing before him now overturned every conclusion he had ever drawn.
Every sentence she spoke was logically consistent.
Every decision she made was unnervingly precise.
Most unsettling of all was the way she looked at him.
It wasn’t love. It wasn’t hatred.
It wasn’t a calculation.
It was the calmness of someone who had already seen the ending and was merely looking back at the journey.
He couldn’t explain it.
“Let’s go.”
Fu Yechuan withdrew his gaze and started walking.
“We’ll find somewhere to wait until eight.”
Su Ran stood up from the curb.
A dull ache shot through the back of her heel.
She glanced down. The skin had been rubbed open.
A faint red stain had seeped into her stockings.
She said nothing and followed him.
…
7:53 p.m.
Old Train Station, North City.
The teahouse sat in an alley behind the station.
There was no signboard.
Two half-dead pomegranate trees stood outside, and the bronze rings on the red-painted wooden doors had oxidized into a dark green.
Old Chen was already waiting inside.
He was in his fifties, thin, with neatly combed hair and gold-rimmed glasses.
He looked like a high school dean.
Su Ran knew people like him were the hardest to deal with.
Anyone who could survive in the gray market for decades without falling was never simple.
The inspection process was quick. Old Chen pulled out a magnifying glass and professional equipment.
After examining the necklace for less than two minutes, he placed it back into the box.
“Three hundred fifty thousand. Same rules as always. Cash.”
He lifted a black canvas bag from beside his feet and unzipped it.
Inside were neatly bundled stacks of cash.
Su Ran reached out to take it.
“Wait.” Old Chen adjusted his glasses.
He looked at Fu Yechuan, then at Su Ran.
“Young Master Fu, allow me to ask one unnecessary question. What’s this money for?”
“Since when did you start caring about how your clients spend their money?”
Fu Yechuan held a teacup but didn’t drink from it.
Old Chen smiled. The kind of smile unique to businessmen, one that never reached the eyes.
“It’s not a concern. The atmosphere has been tense lately, and the authorities are watching closely. I need to know whether this money can be traced cleanly.”
“It can.”
Fu Yechuan set down the teacup.
“Private investment. Nothing to do with the Fu family’s debts.”
Old Chen nodded and pushed the canvas bag forward.
Su Ran took it and casually ran her fingers along the zipper.
Untouched! The weight felt right too.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
Old Chen stood and headed toward the door with the necklace box.
At the entrance, he paused.
Turning back, he looked at Fu Yechuan.
“Young Master Fu, there’s something I’m not sure I should say.”
“Say it.”
“When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.”
His gaze shifted to Su Ran and lingered there for a second.
“The people still sitting across from you at a time like this…”
He paused. “They’re worth paying closer attention to. The good kind of attention.”
Then he pushed the door open and left.
The teahouse instantly fell silent.
From the private room next door came the clattering sounds of mahjong tiles mixed with laughter and curses.
Su Ran counted the cash.
Three hundred fifty thousand. Not a yuan missing.
Combined with the previous one hundred ten thousand, there were exactly four hundred sixty thousand yuan in the bag.
She handed it to Fu Yechuan.
“Tomorrow morning, open an account and put everything into Qiming Technology.”
Fu Yechuan accepted the bag and weighed it in his hand.
Four hundred sixty thousand yuan in cash wasn’t light.
“Su Ran.”
He suddenly called her name.
“Hm?”
“Did you understand what Old Chen meant with that last sentence?”
Su Ran hesitated. “He said those people are worth paying closer attention to.”
Fu Yechuan looked at her. “Who do you think he was talking about?”
Su Ran lowered her eyes. “What do you think?”
Fu Yechuan didn’t answer.
He slung the canvas bag over his shoulder and pushed open the teahouse door.
The night wind rushed in, carrying the scent of rust from the railway tracks.
As they walked out of the alley, he was in front and she followed behind, just as before.
Only this time, his pace was slightly slower.
Slow enough that she no longer had to hurry to keep up.
Su Ran noticed. She said nothing.
Lowering her gaze, she looked at the dried blood crusting over the wound on her heel.
Every step caused the high heels to grind into raw flesh, making her suck in sharp breaths.
Tomorrow! Tomorrow they would throw every cent into the stock.
Then they would wait five days.
Five days later, they would either turn everything around…
Or lose it all.
She gritted her teeth and quickened her pace.
The man ahead didn’t turn around. But his steps slowed by another fraction.
One of the alley’s streetlights was broken.
Their shadows alternated between brightness and darkness.
Sometimes stretched long. Sometimes swallowed by the night.
Then emerging again beneath the next pool of light.
One deep step.
One shallow step.
The two of them continued forward together. Neither said anything aloud.
Hidden in the shadows at the mouth of the alley, the window of a black sedan slowly rolled up.
Zhou Zhe watched their retreating figures disappear into the distance.
Then he took out his phone and dialed Bai Weiwei.
The gamble… It had already begun.