With every falling grain of sand, the tension in the room grew heavier by a degree.
Vzzzt—
The vibration of a communication device—no one knew whose—shattered the dead silence into pieces.
“I beg of you… Mr. Chu, I have elderly parents and young children at home… I can’t, I can’t…”
“Charge out! What are you all waiting for?!”
“What do you mean ‘buried alongside him’? We have no grudge against each other, so why should we…”
Choruses of panic erupted one after another. Chu Yanyi sat quietly in his chair, taking in the commotion before him. He merely shifted his leg, taking a more comfortable posture.
Resting his chin on his hand, his gaze remained quietly fixed on the hourglass.
The sand rustled downward. Outside the trail of golden lines were employees scrambling in blind panic.
Is this what Ying Yu wanted to see? It certainly fits that lunatic’s twisted sense of humor.
The very last grain of sand struck the bottom silently. A wave of piercing screams erupted, yet Chu Yanyi remained seated where he was, his fingertips resting lightly on his cane.
“I told you there was no need to rush,” he lowered his eyes and let out a low chuckle. His voice was soft, yet it instantly brought the chaotic scene to a dead standstill.
Nothing happened.
Several people collapsed onto the floor as if drained of all strength, gasping heavily for air. They looked at each other in utter bewilderment, completely unable to fathom what was going on.
Chu Yanyi’s tone was mild, but his eyes were as cold as frost under an overhang: “It seems Mr. Ying was merely playing a joke on everyone. Besides, Mr. Ying himself died an unclear death; how could he have the mind to trouble you employees who served him so faithfully?”
He stood up, his slender fingers grasping the hourglass, and slowly flipped it back over.
As his assistant opened the door for him, Chu Yanyi offered the hourglass a half-smile. He walked with unhurried steps toward the manager who was sprawled on the ground, bending down to pat his shoulder: “Whatever things were like when Mr. Ying was around, keep them that way now. There’s no need to ask me.”
Once inside the vehicle, Chu Yanyi closed his eyes, the smile on his face vanishing in an instant. He leaned against the window impassively, seemingly resting with his eyes shut.
“Mr. Chu, as you anticipated, our people stationed outside conducted another sweep. There was indeed no trace of any explosives. Also…” Chu Yanyi’s assistant, Chen Ke, turned around from the front seat and reported softly while pressing his earpiece.
Chu Yanyi didn’t open his eyes; he merely uttered a quiet “Mm,” signaling Chen Ke to continue.
He had already instructed his people to inspect every single corner of the building before coming here. After all, it was a place Ying Yu had frequented—it never hurt to be cautious.
“All surveillance footage has been destroyed. Shall we continue investigating further down?”
Only then did Chu Yanyi open his eyes, his gaze darkening: “Investigate. Since Ying Yu gave me such a grand gift, why shouldn’t we?”
“A gift? This… what do you think that lunatic Ying Yu wants to achieve? Just to scare us? That’s far too pointlessly boring… even in death, he won’t give it a rest,” Chen Ke observed Chu Yanyi’s expression, lowering his voice to murmur a complaint.
Outside the window, heavy snow began to fall again. The grains of snow struck the glass, emitting dull, muted sighs.
Chu Yanyi stroked the beast-head handle on his cane, looking at the water trails winding down the glass in silence.
Delayed by the ordeal, Chu Yanyi arrived late to the evening gathering.
The guiding manager brought Chu Yanyi to the front door and quietly retreated. Chu Yanyi pushed open the door, and deafening rock music blasted past his ears.
Most of the guests had already arrived, scattered in small groups chatting by the bar or on the sofas. A few young men surrounded a pool table playing pool, flanked by attractive young men and women catering to them. Upon seeing Chu Yanyi, they all straightened up and greeted him as “Mr. Chu.”
Chu Yanyi wasn’t much different in age from these idle scions of wealthy families. Unexpectedly, he put on no airs and could mingle with them easily. Having heard that Chu Yanyi was back on Desert Planet θ and happened to be visiting the First District, they had arranged a gathering to welcome him back. Chu Yanyi had used excuses to delay it for a while before finally agreeing to meet today.
“Mr. Chu, long time no see! You have to have a couple of drinks before leaving tonight.” Zhang Rongtian, who had been lounging carelessly on the sofa, sat up and raised his glass toward Chu Yanyi with a wave.
A pretty Beta bent down, lighting a cigarette for him.
The scent of the smoke smelled off from a single whiff.
Several of the scions gathered around began to join in the teasing: “That’s right, Mr. Chu is actually late today! That’s so rare.”
Chu Yanyi let out two light coughs, removed his coat, handed it to Chen Ke beside him, and sat gracefully on a chair, completely unbothered: “Young Master Zhang is here too? Something came up just now, so I’ll penalize myself three drinks.”
“That won’t do! If we drink, we drink together.” Zhang Rongtian threw an arm around Chu Yanyi’s shoulder. “Why are you here alone again? Are you really not going to touch an Omega at all?”
Chu Yanyi shrugged, his peripheral vision sweeping across the Beta beside Zhang Rongtian: “Too busy, haven’t had much time.”
Zhang Rongtian pursed his lips, pointing his glass at the row of people opposite them: “How convenient—they’re all new acquaintances of mine. A perfect chance for Mr. Chu to make some new friends.”
Chu Yanyi rested his chin on his hand, a smile touching his lips as he leisurely scrutinized those young and gorgeous faces. Many who could enter the circle of these wealthy scions were prominent figures outside as well.
For instance, he spotted a minor star he had seen in a movie just a few days ago.
Catching Chu Yanyi’s eye, the Omega leaned forward to pour wine for him.
Amidst the noisy music and clouds of smoke, Zhang Rongtian grumbled about his old man’s way of doing things, drawing nods of agreement from the crowd.
“I told him there was no need to waste effort on that plot of land in the Second District. Ying Yu is dead and buried—what kind of waves can the people who used to follow him possibly stir up now? Do they really think it’s still the days when Ying Yu covered the sky with one hand? He just insisted I make a trip out there—talk about having too much time on his hands. Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Chu?”
The amber liquid rippled at the bottom of the glass. The Omega bent down to bring the wine to Chu Yanyi’s lips. Chu Yanyi parted his lips and swallowed the wine, raising his chin with a smile: “Your father’s thoughts are not something I can presume to guess.”
“You are Director Zhang’s only Alpha; of course Director Zhang pays more attention to you,” another member of the elite clique flattered.
“Isn’t it just because he minds me marking Omegas carelessly outside again? Telling me to settle down.” Zhang Rongtian pulled the Beta beside him over for a kiss. “My darling here is a Beta, so he can’t say anything now, can he? I’m not one of those rigid Alphas who only likes Omegas.”
Someone nearby immediately chimed in: “That’s true. As long as they know how to cater to you, that’s enough. I heard that even Alpha-Alpha and Omega-Omega marriages are permitted in the Empire now. How terrifying.”
“Speaking of which, Mr. Chu brought back a slave this time? Don’t you find it dirty?” News always traveled exceptionally fast among these wealthy scions, and they began egging him on: “Why not bring him out for us to see? Anyone who can catch Mr. Chu’s eye must be quite something.”
Chu Yanyi took another sip of wine unhurriedly: “Maybe after some time. He’s still being taught the rules, so I won’t bring him out to embarrass myself.”
“No problem, we all understand Mr. Chu’s rules.“
Chu Yanyi tapped his cane with his finger, amused: “Hmm?”
Taking it as tacit permission, the Omega offered a captivating smile, took a mouthful of wine into his mouth, and leaned down, intending to feed it into Chu Yanyi’s mouth.
However, Chen Ke understood Chu Yanyi’s true intent. Stepping forward, he extended a hand to block the gesture, just as he always did.
With his movement, the scions watching the show felt a bit embarrassed.
“Mr. Chu, Miss Chu just contacted you. It seems to be an urgent matter,” Chen Ke looked around at the people nearby with an indifferent expression, speaking rigidly.
Chu Yanyi raised his eyes, turning slightly to accept the communicator from Chen Ke’s hand. There was only a single line of text, accompanied by several exclamation marks:
“Chu Yanyi! That slave of yours ran away!!! Are you going to do something about it or not?!”
Chu Yanyi kept his composure, tossing the communicator back to Chen Ke. Leaning on his cane, he stood up and offered an apologetic smile to everyone present: “A minor issue came up at home. I’ll go handle it first.”
The heavy door closed softly, shutting out the deafening music. Chu Yanyi frowned slightly and dialed Chu Yanqi’s number: “Talk. How did he escape?”
“He was interrogated a few times, but kept passing out out of nowhere. The doctor prescribed him sedatives, and he secretly hid the pills, hiding in the bathroom. Ah Qing thought something happened to him and went in to check, only to be knocked unconscious from behind. He changed into Ah Qing’s clothes and escaped through the small window. The new batch of guards you hired didn’t recognize him; seeing that the pass card cleared the door, they didn’t bother checking,” Chu Yanqi said through gritted teeth.
Chu Yanyi pulled up the surveillance feed on the virtual screen, raising an eyebrow at the figure calmly walking out the front gate in the video: “Four hours have already passed, Xiao Qi. You still haven’t found him?”
Chu Yanqi hesitated for a moment: “All the roads have been sealed off. I didn’t want to bother you at first, thinking that this place is full of mountains anyway and he’s injured, so he couldn’t run far… but…”
The moonlight outside the window stretched Chu Yanyi’s shadow into a long, cold line. He let out a soft laugh, and Chu Yanqi’s tone instantly weakened significantly on the other end.
“I’m sorry, Brother.”
“Xiao Qi, the person you need to apologize to isn’t me,” Chu Yanyi paused. “The shackles on his ankles have a chip with a tracking function embedded inside. I will send you his real-time location. As for how to handle it next, that’s up to you.”
With that, Chu Yanyi put on his earpiece.
Squinting his eyes, he stared at the red dot moving slowly across the virtual screen. It was indeed a good hiding spot—whether he had prepared it in advance or found it on short notice was hard to say.
Standing by his side, Chen Ke observed Chu Yanyi’s dark expression. Hearing Chu Yanyi say, “Just keep him alive,” Chen Ke finally spoke up cautiously.
“Mr. Chu, with something this big happening, should we change our remaining schedule and head back early?”
“Change it for what? No need to change anything; we’ll head back according to schedule.” Chu Yanyi pressed the mute button on his earpiece, suddenly letting out a cold, self-deprecating laugh. “Do you know why this slave’s right hand was broken?”
“Ah?”
“The last time he tried to escape, a guard died under mysterious circumstances, but there was no evidence proving he did it,” Chu Yanyi gazed at the star-studded night sky. “Later on, that guard’s family paid money to break one of his hands.”
“Tell me, with him being so persistent, where is he trying so hard to run to? Did Ying Yu leave him some kind of instructions after all?”
Chu Yanyi turned his body, pulling the sheet of letter paper out from his pocket. In the dark of the night, his originally blue eyes resembled a deep sea, turning almost entirely black.