(For Chapter 1-163, go to (https://chrysanthemumgarden.com/novel-tl/awbtv/))
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The street near this narrow alley was lined with buildings; within a hundred meters there were quite a few shops, and among them, the White Dove Watch House did not seem particularly conspicuous. But with the vague, uncertain intel Sheng €€ had provided earlier, its presence now felt strangely out of place.
When Yu Jingzhi arrived at the entrance of the White Dove Watch House, a rickshaw happened to be parked not far away.
But the person pulling this rickshaw was not a driver from any human-powered rickshaw company—he was one of Meng Wangda's most trusted employees from his own foreign firm.
The moment this man spotted Yu Jingzhi and the others hurrying over, his expression changed at once. He rushed forward anxiously:
"Mr. Yu!"
Yu Jingzhi halted. "Zhou Quan? What are you doing here?"
Seeing Yu Jingzhi's tense demeanor, Zhou Quan's heart sank. He did not dare to conceal anything and explained everything exactly as it happened: "Boss planned to meet Third Young Master today. For some reason, halfway through the trip he called me over, had me replace the rickshaw puller, and told me to draw the rickshaw myself. Before entering the watch house, Boss instructed me to stay out of sight and wait outside. If he didn't come out after half an hour, I was to go find you and report the situation."
"Meng Wangda is upstairs?"
Yu Jingzhi asked.
Zhou Quan nodded.
Yu Jingzhi's brows tightened at once.
Seeing this, Zhou Quan knew something must have gone wrong inside the watch house. At this very moment, Meng Wangda was likely in grave danger.
He bit down hard, his face showing urgency and fear.
"You wait outside first," Yu Jingzhi told him.
He lifted his gaze toward the second-floor windows of the watch house, then made a hand signal to Liu Er and the others behind him. Keeping close to the wall, he led them swiftly toward the watch house and kicked the door open, charging inside.
Every man Yu Jingzhi brought was an expert—skilled fighters whose movements were as swift as hunting leopards.
Before the clerks and watch-repair masters on the first floor—who were dozing through their lazy afternoon—could react, their mouths were swiftly covered, and they were knocked unconscious one after another.
Fortunately, there weren't many people on the first floor today. Most of the watchmakers were upstairs in the repair room; otherwise, it would've been hard to avoid alerting the enemy. Although Yu Jingzhi had originally intended to alarm those on the second floor and force them to flee, now that he knew Meng Wangda was up there, his plan had to be adjusted.
After clearing the first floor, Yu Jingzhi called Zhou Quan inside and told him to go upstairs and call Meng Wangda out—pretend that something had happened at the foreign firm and he had come to fetch him.
When Zhou Quan stepped inside and saw a few people lying sprawled across the floor, he instinctively swallowed hard, fear rising sharply in his chest.
He usually followed Meng Wangda to handle business matters, mainly managing the finances of Meng's largest foreign firm, and he rarely encountered situations like this. Naturally, it terrified him.
"Mr. Yu… are they still alive?" Zhou Quan asked timidly.
Yu Jingzhi gave him a glance and said calmly, "They're not dead. But be careful when you go up. If they have guns, you might die."
Zhou Quan froze, terror and dread spreading visibly across his face.
But the fear didn't last long. The moment he thought about Meng Wangda possibly being in danger, he stopped caring about anything else. "If not for Boss Meng, I might've been buried alive in a cave long ago. At worst… I'll just return this life to him."
Yu Jingzhi looked at him again and said, "After you knock, drop to the floor and roll aside. Bullets don't have eyes."
With that, he jerked his chin, signaling Zhou Quan to hurry upstairs and quit stalling.
Zhou Quan looked at the infamous Mr. Yu—rumored to be the reincarnation of the King of Hell himself, someone who shot people dead and dumped them in the river at the slightest provocation. Yet on that young, handsome face was a gentle smile. For some reason, Zhou Quan suddenly wasn't quite as afraid anymore.
He stepped onto the second floor and soon reached the office.
Yu Jingzhi followed silently with Liu Er and the others close behind, guns in hand, keeping to the wall. They stopped three or four steps away, eyes locked unwaveringly on the tightly closed office door.
In the silent corridor, Zhou Quan's breathing gradually grew heavy and tense.
He glanced at Yu Jingzhi, and only after seeing him give a slight nod did he take a deep breath, raise his hand, and knock on the office door.
"Who is it?"
From inside, Meng Yun's voice rang out—startled, sharp, unusually tense.
Sensing that Meng Yun's reaction was off, Zhou Quan's anxiety spiked, but his face remained composed, almost calm.
With a friendly tone, he raised his voice: "Third Young Master, it's me, Zhou Quan. There's an issue with an order at the shipyard—Master needs to look at it himself, and it's urgent. I heard Master came to the clock shop, so I came to find him. You see, this matter—"
"Murakami-kun, what should we do?"
Inside the office, Meng Yun had just retrieved a medical kit hidden in a concealed spot and was treating the wound of a man who had been shot in the thigh. On the long bench beside them lay Meng Wangda, who had just been forced to drink a bowl of medicated herbal tea; he lay slumped with eyes closed, unconscious.
The man addressed as Murakami-kun sat pale-faced, clearly showing signs of severe blood loss.
Hearing the commotion, he frowned and responded in fluent Chinese, his voice weak: "Go send him away. Tell him your father just left through the back door."
"Will that work?" Meng Yun hesitated.
Seeing Meng Yun's expression, Murakami felt a stab of irritation. This subordinate's indecisiveness was what he despised most.
But Murakami did not let any displeasure show. He quickly explained in a low voice: "Your father came alone. That explanation won't raise suspicion. Even if they find out later, that's a problem for later. By then, we'll have already relocated with your father."
"Don't waste any more time—answer him."
Meng Yun glanced again at the unconscious Meng Wangda, then nodded. Raising his voice, he called toward the door: "Zhou Quan, my father said he had something urgent to take care of and already left through the back door. He hasn't been gone long—if you go now, you might still catch up."
"He left?"
Zhou Quan repeated, then added, "Then what about that quartz clock from England that Master said he wanted to pick up? If he went off to handle business, he wouldn't have bothered carrying it. Since I'm here, I'll bring it back. Master's been anxious about it—so stressed he's fallen ill these past two days."
Meng Yun exchanged a look with Murakami.
Meng Yun said, "There is indeed such a clock. It's an antique, arrived from overseas two months ago. My father has been very impatient about it."
Murakami's expression darkened. After a brief hesitation, he still nodded.
"Fine. I'll take you to get it."
Meng Yun didn't waver anymore. He rose, pulled the small curtain across to block the view of the long bench, then walked toward the door.
Meng Wangda's most trusted finance manager had come. Not seeing Meng Wangda was already pushing it—but if they also refused to hand over the quartz clock, brushing him off again and again, not even letting him see Meng Yun, even the normally unbothered Zhou Quan would definitely grow suspicious.
However, just as Meng Yun turned the doorknob and was about to pull it open, something suddenly struck him—
Throughout the entire exchange, there had only ever been one voice outside the door.
But Zhou Quan was his real father. He had no authority to simply march into the watch house. Even if he wanted to come upstairs, one of the shop clerks should have come to announce him first. Under normal circumstances this might be overlooked, but today, Meng Yun had specifically instructed the staff not to receive any visitors.
So how could Zhou Quan have been allowed to come up so easily?
Realizing this, Meng Yun's heart dropped. He tried to slam shut the door he had just cracked open—but it was already too late.
He saw the dark muzzles of several guns pointed straight at him from behind the door.
"Murakami-kun, watch out!"
Meng Yun shouted, quickly retreating and whipping out a pistol, firing toward the doorway.
But the moment Meng Yun's uncertainty appeared as he opened the door, Yu Jingzhi sensed danger. He kicked Zhou Quan aside and, together with the others, dodged against the wall.
Bang! Bang!
Gunshots erupted violently between the corridor and the office.
From the watch-repair rooms on the second floor came screams.
"Watch Old Meng's position—fire carefully!"
Yu Jingzhi shouted in a low voice.
"Go—move!"
Murakami immediately struggled to his feet, dragging his injured leg. He reached under Meng Yun's tea table, pulled out a gun, chambered it while retreating toward the window, and shoved it open. He glanced outside: "No one's blocking the way. Jiang Cheng-kun, hurry!"
As he spoke, Murakami climbed onto the windowsill and fired wildly toward the doorway.
The doorway was narrow, and Meng Yun had fired first. So even though their side was overwhelmingly outgunned, as long as Yu Jingzhi refused to risk his men's lives by forcing the door, Meng Yun managed to hold them off briefly—just long enough for him to retreat to the window.
But as Meng Yun backed away toward the window, passing the long bench where guests usually sat, the unconscious Meng Wangda suddenly opened his eyes. With a burst of strength, he lunged up and wrapped his arms tightly around Meng Yun's legs, dragging him to the floor.
Meng Yun had never imagined that Meng Wangda wasn't fully unconscious. Caught off guard, he was yanked down and erupted into fury and panic: "Father, let go!"
"No… can't go… Son, you mustn't go…"
The drug was still working—Meng Wangda's speech was slurred, his eyes unfocused and hazy. But the strength with which he clung to Meng Yun's legs was immense—unyielding, stubborn, like gnarled old tree roots refusing to loosen.
"Let go! Let go!"
Amid the gunfire, Meng Yun forced himself upright and staggered forward, dragging Meng Wangda onto the floor. "Father, let go! If I don't leave now, I'll die!"
Meng Wangda's trembling fingers dug so hard into Meng Yun's thigh they nearly broke the skin.
He strained to lift his head, his unfocused, blurry eyes fixed on Meng Yun as he rasped out: "Mr. Yu… Mr. Yu won't kill you. He knows you are my son… Don't go… Son, you mustn't go… If you go—if you go… then you are truly, utterly… a traitor!"
"Jiang Cheng-kun!" Murakami shouted urgently while firing.
They could no longer hold back the onslaught at the door.
Meng Yun fired another shot, glanced toward the doorway, then toward Murakami at the window. Gritting his teeth, he tore one leg free and kicked Meng Wangda viciously.
"Let go! Let go of me!"
"What country, what patriotism? I already betrayed it! I have a Dongyang name now—I don't want to be a Huaguo man anymore! You barely cared about me growing up, and now you want to lecture me—let go!"
In only a few kicks, Meng Wangda's head was bleeding.
But his grip still did not loosen—not even a little. He clung to Meng Yun with desperate strength, and Meng Yun had to drag him, knocking over the tea table as they lurched toward the window.
"Son… you cannot go… you cannot…"
"Let go!"
Meng Yun finally snapped, screaming in hysterical rage.
"Go!"
Yu Jingzhi seized the opening, raised his gun, and rushed into the office. "Let go of your father. Don't try to escape—we will not fire again—"
Meng Yun suddenly swung his head toward Yu Jingzhi. Then his gun barrel dropped sharply.
Bang!
A heavy gunshot exploded. A hole burst open in Meng Wangda's forehead, red and white matter spraying out in a gruesome arc.
"You've done nothing but drag me down!"
Meng Yun kicked aside his father's suddenly limp body and leapt straight out the window.
Murakami had already slipped out the window the moment Meng Yun shot Meng Wangda. In truth, he had not waited out of loyalty or a desire to protect Meng Yun. First, without Meng Yun, he knew he couldn't get far. Second, now that Meng Wangda had learned their secret, he had to die.
Even if Meng Yun hadn't fired, Murakami would have. But doing so himself would inevitably have left a knot of resentment in Meng Yun's heart.
Fortunately, Meng Yun proved himself worthy of Murakami's selection—showing not even the slightest hesitation when killing his own father.
"Old Meng!"
Yu Jingzhi hurried forward and caught Meng Wangda as he collapsed—only to find his eyes wide open in a blank, stunned stare. His lips trembled, as if trying to call out something, or perhaps nothing at all—unable to make a sound—before his breath fully left him.
Zhou Quan staggered in behind them, mouth open, but no voice came out.
Yu Jingzhi looked quietly at Meng Wangda for two seconds, then raised a hand and closed those eyes, smeared with blood and tears.
"Sir, they went down!"
Several men rushed to the window and looked out.
Just as the words left their mouths, gunshots sounded outside.
Chu Yunsheng—who had not joined Yu Jingzhi in the frontal assault—had led an ambushed in the back alley. The moment Meng Yun and Murakami escaped, jubilant at their narrow survival, Chu Yunsheng's men shot both of them—each taking several rounds in the legs and arms.
Both men immediately collapsed, their guns tumbling from their hands.
Several operatives rushed out, swiftly subduing them, gagging them, and hauling them onto a vehicle.
Chu Yunsheng stepped out of the shadows, his expression dark as he looked up at the window the two had fled from. He'd heard Yu Jingzhi's shout from there moments ago—filled with anger and grief.
The constables arrived and surrounded White Dove Watch House.
Before long, Yu Jingzhi came out with his men, heading toward the cars waiting at the mouth of the alley.
Before he could say anything, Zhou Quan, who had been following behind, suddenly lunged forward. He yanked open a car door and kicked violently inside.
"Bastard! You beast! Filthy animal! How could the boss have a son as worthless as you! How could you bring yourself to do this—do you even know he was your father? He was your father!"
Zhou Quan's voice tore out of his throat like a wail.
Some of the men stepped forward to restrain him, but Yu Jingzhi waved them off.
His hands were covered in blood, yet his face showed almost no expression. He simply walked to Chu Yunsheng's side and said quietly, "We were too late. Old Meng is dead."
Liu Er, standing nearby, added, "Sir, it was us brothers who were afraid of dying. If we'd rushed in through the bullets from the start, maybe we could've saved Boss Meng…"
"The plan was mine," Yu Jingzhi cut him off. "In one minute, pull Zhou Quan off and send the prisoners to the old house. I'll interrogate them myself."
Seeing this, Liu Er said nothing more and went to give instructions by the cars.
Under the tree, only Chu Yunsheng and Yu Jingzhi remained.
Chu Yunsheng took Yu Jingzhi's hand—hanging stiffly at his side—and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He opened Yu Jingzhi's palm and began gently wiping away the red and white smears of blood, unbothered by how dirty they were. His movements were slow, careful, almost tender.
Yu Jingzhi looked down at their interlaced fingers. The rigid tension in his expression gradually eased.
By the time all ten fingers had been wiped clean, Yu Jingzhi's face had returned to its usual calm. He drew in a soft breath and said, "It won't come off completely. I'll wash again later."
"I'm going back to the old house. I'll be busy these next few days."
Chu Yunsheng knew that Yu Jingzhi didn't want him involved too much in bloody matters. And with a surgery scheduled for tomorrow—one that only he and Chao Shimin could perform—he nodded and said, "I'll head back to the hospital tonight. After the surgery tomorrow, I'll go to the old house for dinner."
"Alright."
Yu Jingzhi tugged lightly at the corner of his lips, turned his head, and placed a soft kiss on Chu Yunsheng before getting into the car.
They had come in three cars. Meng Yun and Murakami were each confined in a separate vehicle, watched over by Yu Jingzhi and Liu Er respectively.
One car remained, assigned to two of Yu Jingzhi's most reliable men, who would escort Chu Yunsheng back to his residence near Renhe Hospital.
Although Sheng €€ had approached him before, Chu Yunsheng was still only a B-level target in the mission hierarchy. He drew plenty of attention but not significant importance. Because of this, Yu Jingzhi did not place too many visible guards around him, so as not to arouse unnecessary suspicion.
After watching Yu Jingzhi leave with his men, Chu Yunsheng exchanged a few words with Lu Yun, who had come with the police to search the area, then got into the car to head home.
However—
Just as the car turned out of Bao'an Lane and was halfway down the street, the man in the passenger seat suddenly pulled out two guns—one pressed against the driver's temple, the other aimed straight at Chu Yunsheng in the back seat.
"Don't move!"
"Turn right. Keep driving!"
The man barked coldly.
Chu Yunsheng glanced at the muzzle almost touching his forehead—cold, sharp, lethal. He met the driver's eyes in the rearview mirror for a split second, then said calmly, "Do as he says."
At the same time—
In a restaurant filled with the mellow sound of violin music, a man dressed in black slipped through the archway and approached Adams, leaning close to quietly report the situation.
Adams leisurely cut his steak. Only after the man finished speaking did he smile and say, "It seems I ought to thank the Easterners. Shameless as they are—snatching away our interests on the Qingzhou Peninsula—without their help, we might never have discovered the secret hidden in this Dr. Chu."
The man replied, "But Mr. Adams, we still can't confirm whether those drugs were developed by Chao Shimin or by Chu Yunsheng—"
"But we have confirmed that the batch of drugs exists, haven't we?"
Adams smiled. "The rest will be resolved once we have the man."
"Gao Lan is on his way. And I, for one, have grown tired of this dull little game of probing and testing with Yu Jingzhi."