The rain fell all night long, only gradually stopping around midnight. The clouds partially dispersed, and the damp moonlight struggled to squeeze through the gaps in the cloud layer, coating the waterlogged ground with a sickly silver sheen. The air was filled with the earthy smell of rain-soaked soil, mixed with the persistent odor unique to old industrial zones—a combination of rust and decay.

A dilapidated black Santana silently glided into this wasteland, coming to a stop in the shadow of a half-collapsed factory building. The headlights remained off, and the engine was immediately turned off, causing the entire vehicle to resemble a giant beetle, blending into the dead silence of the darkness.


The car door was gently pushed open, and Chen Mo and Li Xiaodong crawled out one after another. Both were wearing dark raincoats with their hoods pulled low, exposing only the lower half of their faces. They didn't use flashlights, relying only on the faint moonlight as they trudged through the muddy ground toward the abandoned warehouse area of the Second Cotton Mill.

Ten years is enough time to transform a thriving industrial zone into a steel graveyard. The once-smooth cement roads had long been devoured by wild grass and cracks, now covered in puddles and sludge. The abandoned factory buildings stood like enormous skeletons, silently looming in the night, their pitch-black windows resembling empty eye sockets, watching these two uninvited guests. When the wind blew, the pipes and steel frames made "woo-woo" sounds, like the wailing of lost souls.

"This is the place." Li Xiaodong lowered his voice, pointing to a row of low warehouses not far away. In his hand, he tightly clutched the hand-drawn map, its plastic cover covered with moisture.


According to the description in Song Wenjie's diary and the information he left behind, the warehouse he and his band members had rented back then was the innermost one in this row. This location was remote, right next to the power workshop of the cotton mill. Back then, no one wanted to rent it because of the excessive noise.

They carefully made their way around a pile of rusted steel bars and scattered bricks, arriving at their target warehouse. The entrance was a huge iron sheet door covered with rust, with an equally rust-covered padlock hanging on it, as if it had grown there.


"It's locked tight." Li Xiaodong stepped forward and tugged at it, but the padlock didn't budge at all.

Chen Mo didn't speak. He walked around the warehouse once and finally stopped at the side of the building. There was a small window here, almost two meters above the ground. The glass in the window had long since shattered, leaving only a twisted frame. He stepped back and said to Li Xiaodong, "I'll go up first. You stay down here and assist me."

After speaking, he backed up a few steps, took a running start, grabbed the windowsill with both hands, used his core strength, pushed off the wall with his legs twice, and nimbly flipped through the window. His movements were swift and clean, nothing like someone approaching fifty years of age. The sound of his landing was very light, like a cat.

Li Xiaodong waited anxiously below. A few seconds later, the muffled sound of metal scraping came from inside the warehouse as the huge sheet metal door was opened a crack from within. Li Xiaodong immediately slipped through the gap.

The warehouse was pitch black, with the air permeated by a heavy smell of mold and dust. Chen Mo turned on the small flashlight he carried, and a faint beam of light cut through the darkness, illuminating a corner of the warehouse. The floor was covered with garbage and waste, and thick spider webs filled the corners. In the center of the warehouse, several dilapidated speakers and instrument racks lay toppled over, covered with a thick layer of dust, telling the story of the past.

"Let's split up and search," Chen Mo said in a low voice.

They began searching around the warehouse. The most crucial line in Song Wenjie's diary was "under the third bend of the water pipe." But in this warehouse, various pipes crisscrossed - drainage pipes, wiring conduits - and after ten years, many pipes had broken or collapsed, making it impossible to distinguish between them.

Li Xiaodong was responsible for the east side of the warehouse. He carefully illuminated each pipe extending from the wall with his flashlight, calculating the turns. However, many areas were blocked by miscellaneous objects, and he had to laboriously move those heavy, dust-covered discarded items. Sweat quickly soaked his back, but he dared not show the slightest relaxation.

Chen Mo was responsible for the west side. He was more patient and meticulous than Li Xiaodong. His gaze was like a scalpel, cutting through the darkness, carefully examining every possible corner. He didn't miss any exposed water pipes, not even those half-buried in piles of garbage.

Time passed minute by minute, with only the rustling sounds of their movements and suppressed breathing in the warehouse. Li Xiaodong had checked almost all the pipes he could find on his side but found nothing. He became somewhat anxious and looked back at Chen Mo.

Chen Mo was crouching motionless in a corner. The corner was filled with discarded cotton yarn and rags, looking like a pile of garbage. A thick, rusty sewage pipe extended down from high on the wall, made a turn here, and then plunged into the ground.

"Brother Chen, found something?" Li Xiaodong walked over quietly.

Chen Mo didn't turn around, just shined his flashlight on the pipe. The beam of light moved down along the pipe, and at the place where it entered the ground, one could clearly see that this was the third bend since the pipe extended from the wall.

"It's here." There was a hint of barely detectable excitement in Chen Mo's voice.

The two didn't hesitate any longer and immediately began clearing away the garbage accumulated around the pipe with their bare hands. Those rotting cotton yarns and rags emitted a nauseating sour stench, but they seemed not to smell it. Soon, the ground around the pipe was cleared.

"Dig." Chen Mo took out a military shovel from his raincoat pocket.

Li Xiaodong took the shovel and began digging vigorously. The ground was compacted soil mixed with gravel, making it extremely difficult to dig. After a few scoops, his arms were already sore. Chen Mo took over the shovel; his movements weren't fast, but each scoop was powerful, turning over the soil bit by bit.

After digging about half a meter deep, the tip of the military shovel hit something hard, making a dull "clang" sound.

The two men exchanged glances, both seeing hope in each other's eyes.

They quickened their pace, and soon, the outline of a black, rectangular iron box appeared in the soil. The box was wrapped in thick tarpaulin with waterproof tape wound around it, showing how meticulous Song Wenjie had been when hiding this item years ago.

Chen Mo carefully lifted the iron box out of the pit. The box was very heavy, with the cold feel of soil on it. He placed the box on a relatively clean patch of ground, and used his carrying knife to аккуратно cut away the tape and oilcloth wrapped around it.

As the last layer of oilcloth was removed, a rusty iron box appeared before them. There was a small lock on the box, also severely rusted. Chen Mo didn't try to pick the lock; instead, he used the handle of his knife to strike forcefully at the junction between the lock and the box lid, and the fragile lock broke with a snap.

"Click."

A soft sound, particularly clear in the silent warehouse, like a secret sealed for ten years finally being opened.

Chen Mo slowly lifted the lid of the box.

The musty smell of old paper wafted up. Under the beam of the flashlight, the contents of the box were clearly revealed before their eyes.

On top was a stack of paper documents sealed in a plastic bag. The paper had yellowed, but the writing on it remained clear. Below were several small audio cassette tapes with dates and locations scrawled crookedly on labels. At the very bottom of everything, there were also several photographic negatives.

Chen Mo picked up the stack of documents and tore open the plastic bag. The first page was a handwritten investigation note, detailing the routes and times Song Wenjie had followed when tracking Taihua Group's waste disposal vehicles, as well as all the details he had observed.

Li Xiaodong picked up the audio cassettes and noticed that one of the labels boldly displayed the name "Hou Liang."

But these were not the most important things.

Chen Mo flipped through the documents in his hands, and deep within the file, he found a neatly folded photocopy. He unfolded the paper, shining his flashlight on it, and at that moment, both men's breathing stopped.

It was a real pollution monitoring data report from the Taihua Chemical Plant, showing multiple carcinogenic indicators that all exceeded standards by hundreds or even thousands of times. Next to the data report was a photocopy of another document—an internal directive with the Taihua Group logo at the top, instructing the chemical plant's technical department to forge a new test report using another set of "standard data" provided to them, in order to pass environmental protection department inspections.

In the bottom right corner of this internal directive was a signature, written in a flamboyant style, but still recognizable as those three characters—

Zhao Lixin.

Although it was just a photocopy, it was enough to prove everything! This wasn't simply corporate pollution—this was an organized, premeditated, and executive-authorized collective murder that had continued for ten years!

"We found it... we found it..." Li Xiaodong's voice trembled as he looked at the document bearing Zhao Lixin's signature, so excited he could barely speak. After ten years, the evidence Song Wenjie had exchanged his life for was finally seeing the light of day.

Chen Mo's face also showed a rare expression of relief. He reorganized the documents, put them back in the iron box, then closed the lid, holding it tightly against his chest.

"Let's go." He only said one word, his voice hoarse but full of strength.

However, just as they turned to leave, the piercing sound of a car engine roaring and tires grinding against the ground suddenly broke the silence of the night.

Immediately after, several blinding high beams shot through the warehouse's dilapidated windows and door cracks, illuminating the previously pitch-black warehouse as bright as day. The intense light made it impossible for them to keep their eyes open.

Chen Mo and Li Xiaodong's hearts simultaneously sank to the bottom.

Outside the warehouse door, several black sedans were parked in a fan shape, completely blocking the only exit. The car doors were pushed open almost simultaneously, and more than a dozen expressionless, burly men in black suits jumped out of the vehicles, all holding cold, gleaming steel pipes and batons. Without wasting words, they moved in perfect unison with clear purpose, advancing straight toward the warehouse entrance.

The man leading them was tall and imposing, with a ferocious scar running from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. He coldly stared at Chen Mo and Li Xiaodong inside the warehouse, looking at them as if they were already dead.

"Hand over the item," the scarred face man said in a hoarse, icy voice.

They had been discovered. Not only had they been discovered, but the other party had clearly come prepared, timing it so precisely as if they had been watching them dig up the box the entire time.

"Run!" Chen Mo almost shouted this word. Without any hesitation, he stuffed the iron box into Li Xiaodong's arms, then gave him a hard push, "Go through the window! Quick!"

Li Xiaodong was still in shock and hadn't come to his senses. He looked at the aggressive people outside, and then at Chen Mo.

"Don't worry about me! Take the stuff to find Director Gao! Tell him to hand the evidence to the Provincial Discipline Inspection Commission! Go now!" Chen Mo roared again. He knew that tonight, it would be impossible for both of them to leave safely with the materials. Someone had to make a sacrifice to give the other person a chance to escape.

Li Xiaodong looked at Chen Mo's eyes burning with determination and instantly understood. His eyes immediately reddened, but he didn't hesitate anymore. He knew this wasn't the time for sentimentality. He tightly hugged the iron box and turned to rush toward the window on the side of the warehouse.

"Trying to leave?" Scar Face sneered, waving his hand.

Several burly men immediately chased after Li Xiaodong.

Chen Mo roared in anger, grabbed a half-meter-long discarded steel pipe near him, and charged toward the remaining men. Like an enraged lion, he channeled all his strength and fury into the steel pipe in his hand, violently swinging it at the burly man in the front.

The man didn't expect this seemingly half-dead old police officer to be so fearlessly aggressive. Unable to dodge in time, his arm was struck squarely by the steel pipe, producing a crisp sound of breaking bone.

A chaotic and bloody battle erupted in that instant.

Although Chen Mo's skills were as good as in his prime years, it was still difficult for one person to fight against many. The opponents were numerous and powerful, and each one of them was a desperate criminal who struck with vicious intent. He was quickly surrounded. A steel pipe swept toward him from behind with a whistling sound. He barely dodged it, but his back was still scraped with a bloody gash. Another baton smashed hard into his left shoulder, sending waves of intense pain that made his hand holding the steel pipe go numb.

But he didn't step back at all. He used his own body to firmly block the path between Li Xiaodong and the pursuers, buying precious time for him to escape.

Li Xiaodong had already climbed onto the windowsill. He looked back at Chen Mo, who was surrounded and covered in wounds, his heart wrenching in pain. He saw Chen Mo get struck again by a baton on his leg, stumbling to his knees, but immediately struggling back to his feet, desperately using the steel pipe in his hand to block the attacks raining down like raindrops.

"Go!" Chen Mo shouted with all his remaining strength, fresh blood already seeping from the corners of his mouth.

Li Xiaodong bit down hard enough to crack his teeth, tears mixing with rainwater as they slid down his face. He didn't look back again, clutching the iron box as he leapt from the window, disappearing into the darkness outside.

Seeing Li Xiaodong escape with the box, Scar Face's expression grew even more ferocious.

"Useless! After him!" he roared at his subordinates, then personally grabbed a steel pipe and walked toward the now-faltering Chen Mo.

Chen Mo's thighs and calves had taken heavy blows, and his left arm was barely movable. His strength was rapidly draining, and his vision beginning to blur. Yet he still stood there like a stubborn statue, without a trace of fear in his eyes.

"Old man, you're quite a fighter," Scar Face approached Chen Mo, looking down at him condescendingly. "Too bad you'll die here today."

With those words, he raised the steel pipe in his hand and with all his might, smashed it down toward Chen Mo's head.

At this critical moment, Chen Mo made a move that no one could have anticipated. Instead of blocking the blow, he used his last bit of strength to forcefully throw something he had been desperately protecting in his arms into the darkness outside the warehouse.

Those few reels of audio tapes taken from the metal box traced an arc through the air before falling into a patch of waist-high grass in the distance, instantly disappearing from sight.

Scar Face paused for a moment, clearly not expecting that Chen Mo had something hidden on him.

It was this fraction of a second hesitation that gave Chen Mo his final chance. Enduring the excruciating pain, he rolled to the side, avoiding the fatal blow. The steel pipe struck the ground where he had just been standing, sending sparks flying.

Immediately after, without any pause, he rushed toward a more dilapidated opening on the other side of the warehouse, tumbling and crawling his way through.

"Damn it!" Scar Face cursed angrily, leading his men in pursuit.

Chen Mo ran frantically through the ruins, his survival instinct unleashing unprecedented potential. Behind him were the relentless sounds of footsteps and cursing. He felt like his lungs were about to explode, his vision darkening intermittently, while the wounds on his body continued to bleed.

He had no idea how long he had been running when a foul-smelling sewage channel appeared ahead. Without the slightest hesitation, he leaped into the cold and filthy water.

Following the current, he swam forward desperately, quickly entering a huge cement pipeline and disappearing into the darkness.

Scar Face led his men to the edge of the channel, staring at the pitch-black pipe and the turbulent sewage, and finally stopped in his tracks.

"Boss, that kid ran away with the box!" a subordinate reported, panting.

The scarface's expression darkened to the extreme. He glanced at the escaping kid, then at the old policeman who had jumped into the sewage drain with uncertain fate, and finally locked his target on that iron box.

"Chase him! No matter what, bring that box back to me! It has Director Zhao's personal signature inside!"

Most of the men immediately rushed off in the direction Li Xiaodong had fled.

After an unknown amount of time, Chen Mo, covered in wounds and filth, crawled out from a sewage outlet downstream. He lay on the cold ground, gasping for air in large breaths, each breath pulling at all his wounds, causing pain that nearly made him pass out.

He knew that the tape he had just thrown away was fake. It was prepared in advance, disguised using a blank tape. And those few tapes that actually recorded Hou Liang's voice were still on him, wrapped in waterproof bags and hidden in the innermost pocket of his raincoat.

He was gambling. Betting that their main target was the document signed with Zhao Lixin's name. Betting they would think all the evidence had been taken away by Li Xiaodong, thus easing their pursuit of himself.

His gamble paid off.

He struggled to sit up, leaning against a wall. He felt the few heavy tapes in his inner pocket, things he had exchanged for half his life.

In the distance, the faint roar of car engines and urgent braking sounds could be heard. He knew that for Li Xiaodong, the situation was likely dire.

He slowly closed his eyes as intense pain and dizziness from blood loss washed over him like a tide. But in the darkness, the corners of his mouth slowly curved upward into a slight arc. It was a cold, tragic, yet mocking smile.

Do you really think this is over?