Li Xiaodong didn't look back. He didn't dare to look back, fearing that if he did, he would never have the courage to step on the accelerator again. In the rearview mirror, the abandoned warehouse, ghastly white under the high beams, looked like a giant monster devouring life, quickly swallowed by the increasingly dense darkness and rain. He couldn't hear the sounds of the battle behind him, but he could imagine how brutal the scene must be as Chen Mo faced those desperate criminals alone.

"Go... go quickly!"


Chen Mo's final scream was like an awl, repeatedly striking against his eardrums. His hands gripping the steering wheel had turned white at the knuckles from the force, with veins bulging prominently on the back of his hands. His life had been split into two completely different halves by everything that had happened tonight. Just a few hours ago, he was a trainee police officer struggling within the system, trying to find a way out; now, he was a fugitive being hunted by unknown forces, carrying evidence capable of bringing down the entire city.

He dared not think about anything; there was only one thought in his mind: escape. Escape with what Chen Mo had exchanged with his life, and survive.

He pressed the accelerator to the floor, and the decrepit Santana emitted an overburdened roar as it traveled along the muddy dirt road. The car body jolted violently, several times nearly sliding sideways. He dared not turn on the lights and could only rely on the faint moonlight and his memory of the journey there to frantically navigate between ruins and overgrown weeds. He knew those people would catch up with him soon.


Only after reaching the provincial highway did he finally dare to turn on the headlights. The yellowish light cut through the darkness, illuminating the rain-slicked asphalt road ahead. He drove incredibly fast, with the scenery outside the windows rapidly receding, transforming into blurry patches of color. He dared not return to the city bureau, nor to his own residence, and even less to the hospital. He knew those people's informants were spread throughout the entire city, and any conventional place to seek help would be equivalent to walking straight into their trap.

Where to go? Where could he possibly go?


This question was like a red-hot branding iron, repeatedly searing into his brain. He needed to find a place that was absolutely safe, a place that no one would ever think of. A place that had no direct connection to either him or Chen Mo, yet was absolutely trustworthy.

Suddenly, a name, a face both quiet and resilient, flashed through his mind like lightning.

Song Wenqi.

He sharply turned the steering wheel, and the car veered toward another road leading to the old district amid the screeching sound of tires. Song Wenqi's old residence, the place where Song Wenjie had grown up. It had been uninhabited for years, with most neighbors having relocated, making it the most inconspicuous corner of the city. More importantly, it was the starting point of this case, the source of all the tragedies.

The most dangerous place is the safest place.

When Li Xiaodong drove his car to the familiar alleyway entrance, it was already past midnight. He hid the car in an even more secluded corner, then staggered to the entrance of Song Wenqi's flower shop. The flower shop had long been closed, but he had no time to hesitate and began pounding forcefully on the rolling shutter door.

After a long while, Song Wenqi's sleepy and frightened voice came from inside: "Who is it?"

"It's me, Li Xiaodong!" he shouted anxiously, "Open the door! Quickly!"

The rolling shutter door was pulled open with a rattling sound, creating a small gap. Song Wenqi, wearing pajamas, looked with bewilderment at the soaking wet, seemingly deranged Li Xiaodong at her doorstep.

"Something happened," Li Xiaodong only said three words, his voice terribly hoarse, "Brother Chen, he... he's badly injured, in my car. I need a place, an absolutely safe place. Your old house, is it still habitable?"

Song Wenqi's face instantly turned pale. She didn't ask for any details, just nodded heavily, and turned to run back to get the keys.

They struggled to lift the unconscious Chen Mo out of the car. Chen Mo's body was like a cold stone, covered in mud and blood, emitting a nauseating stench like that from a sewer. Looking at Chen Mo's colorless face and those wounds deep enough to expose bone, tears immediately welled up in Song Wenqi's eyes.

Song Wenqi's former residence was an old-fashioned two-story building. Uninhabited for many years, the house had accumulated a thick layer of dust, with the air filled with a musty smell. They settled Chen Mo in Song Wenjie's former bedroom on the second floor. That small single bed, after ten years, welcomed another wounded fighter who had battled for him.

Li Xiaodong dared not turn on the light, using only the dim glow from his phone. Song Wenqi retrieved the first aid kit from the cabinet, boiled some hot water, and began carefully cleaning Chen Mo's wounds. The injuries were horrifying to behold, some deep enough to expose bone, others a bloody mess. With each gentle dab, Song Wenqi's body trembled, tears silently streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto Chen Mo's cold arm.

Li Xiaodong stood nearby, watching everything, his heart feeling as if it were being sliced by a knife. He removed his soaking wet raincoat and carefully placed the iron box—which he had retrieved at nearly the cost of his life—alongside the cassette tapes from Chen Mo's body, saturated with dirty water, on the bedside table.

After working busily all night, it was almost dawn when Chen Mo's wounds were barely treated. His breathing remained weak, his body cold due to excessive blood loss, but at least his life was no longer in danger. Song Wenqi tucked him in and curled up on a small stool beside the bed, staying awake all night until her eyes were bloodshot.

Li Xiaodong sat by the window, staring intently outside. He didn't dare to sleep; even the slightest movement made him break out in a cold sweat. His mind was in chaos, not knowing if their pursuers had found them, not knowing what they would face after daybreak.

Chen Mo regained consciousness at dusk the following day.

He slowly opened his eyes, and what came into view was a mottled, yellowing ceiling. There was a faint smell of dust and disinfectant in the air. He felt as if his entire body had fallen apart, with every joint screaming in pain. He moved his fingers, wanting to sit up, but found that he didn't even have the strength to lift his arm.

"Officer Chen, you're awake!" an excited voice sounded by his ear.

He turned his head and saw Song Wenqi sitting by the bed. The girl's eyes were red and swollen, her face full of exhaustion and worry. He looked around at the unfamiliar room, simply and shabbily furnished, with a faded band poster stuck to the wall.

This was Song Wenjie's room.

Memories came flooding back like a tide: the bloody battle in the warehouse, the cold water in the canal, and the silhouette of Li Xiaodong disappearing into the darkness with the metal box in his arms.

"Where's Xiaodong?" he spoke, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper scraping across wood.

"He... he went out to buy some food," Song Wenqi quickly replied. As she spoke, she seemed to remember something and turned to take something from the bedside table.

Those cassette tapes that had been carefully wiped clean.

"Officer Chen, this..."

Chen Mo's gaze instantly became sharp. He struggled to sit up. The intense pain immediately caused cold sweat to break out on his forehead, but he seemed not to feel it, only staring fixedly at those few cassette tapes.

"Tape recorder... is there a tape recorder?" he asked urgently.

Song Wenqi was stunned for a moment, then immediately reacted and began searching around the room. The things in this room hadn't been moved for ten years, and soon, she found an old portable cassette player from a dust-covered cardboard box. It was what Song Wenjie had used to learn English back then.

She blew away the dust on it and found some batteries. When she put one of the cassette tapes inside and pressed play, the recorder first emitted a "crackling" sound of electricity, followed by two voices—both familiar yet strange—flowing out from the tiny speaker, piercing through ten years of time, echoing in this quiet bedroom.

One voice was young and determined, with a hint of barely noticeable tension—that was Song Wenjie.

The other voice was suppressed and fearful, filled with hesitation and struggle—that was Hou Liang.

【...Brother Hou, think again, how exactly was this data produced? I know you're afraid, but this matter concerns thousands of lives. We can't just let it go.】

【...Xiao Song, I... I'm telling you, stop asking. You can't fight them. Boss Zhao... he's not someone we can afford to mess with.】

【Zhao Lixin? What orders did he give you exactly?】

In the recorder, Hou Liang's voice fell silent for a long time, with only suppressed, heavy breathing. Then, as if he had finally made up his mind, his voice trembling, he revealed everything.

【...That pollution data was personally measured by Old Wang from our technical department with his team, it's authentic. When the results came in, Old Wang's face turned pale with fear, and he immediately locked the report in the safe. But just two days later, Manager Zhao's secretary came down with a 'internal directive' personally signed by Manager Zhao and another set of 'standard data.' The directive clearly stated that we must prepare a new report according to that 'standard data' and submit it.】

【And you just did as told?】Song Wenjie's voice carried disbelief and anger.

【What if someone refuses? Old Wang initially wanted to resist, saying this was fraud, a crime. But the next day, his daughter, who was still in elementary school, was cornered on her way home from school. They didn't hit or scold her, just a few people surrounded his daughter, patted her face and said: 'Little girl, your dad works very hard, tell him not to tire himself out.' Wang collapsed at that moment. The next day, that fake report was completed.】

【Then... when Environmental Protection Bureau officials come to inspect, can't they tell it's fake?】

There was a hint of desperate mockery in Hou Liang's voice.

"Environmental Protection Bureau? Heh... Xiao Song, you're too naive. That Director Liu who came for inspection two years ago, he was also tough at first, insisting on collecting water samples himself to take back for testing. And what happened? Manager Zhao invited him for a meal, and after dining, the secretary directly handed him a suitcase containing 500,000 in cash. Director Liu refused it and left immediately. But guess what? Right after he left, his wife was reported for gambling at the bureau, allegedly owing over a million in high-interest loans. What a coincidence, right? Within three days, Director Liu personally signed that 'meets standards' report, and later even got promoted to Deputy Director."

The recording ended here, the tape reached its end with a soft "click" sound.

The room was deathly silent.

Song Wenqi had already covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face. She had always known that her brother's death wasn't simple, but she never knew that behind it was such a systematic, such horrifying evil. Zhao Lixin, that forever gentle and philanthropic celebrity entrepreneur on television, was actually a demon who devoured people without spitting out the bones.

Chen Mo leaned against the headboard, motionless. There was no expression on his face, but in those unfathomably deep eyes burned a fury capable of incinerating everything. He had finally heard it, heard the truth that should have been revealed ten years ago. Song Wenjie's death, Hou Liang's death, and those villagers struggling in pain in Hekou Town—everything pointed to the same person—Zhao Lixin.

And behind him, serving as his shield and protection, was that enormous, invisible network.

Chen Mo slowly turned his head and looked outside the window. From this angle, he could see the direction of the downtown area in the distance. Night had fallen, and the rows of tall buildings had lit up with brilliant lights. At the top of the tallest and most eye-catching building, the four huge neon signs of Taihua Group were flickering with cold and arrogant radiance, like a devil's eyes looking down upon the entire city.

He completely understood now.

Relying on standard procedures, it would be absolutely impossible to submit this evidence. At the city bureau level alone, Director Gao was an insurmountable wall. He would use a hundred different methods to make this recording "accidentally" disappear, to make witnesses "accidentally" keep quiet. Even if one were lucky enough to break through the city bureau, Deputy Director Liu from the Environmental Protection Bureau, and many more "Deputy Director Lius" hiding in the shadows, would act as firewalls, firmly locking the truth at the bottom level.

The conventional war has already been lost. From the moment Song Wenjie fell ten years ago, it was lost. To win, we must use unconventional means.

Just then, the door opened. Li Xiaodong walked in carrying several plastic bags. When he saw Chen Mo was awake, a hint of joy appeared on his face, but it quickly turned solemn again.

"Brother Chen, you're awake." He put down his things and walked to the bedside, "I just went out for a while. Everything outside seems calm, but it's too calm, which feels wrong. I feel... they're like a net, slowly tightening around us."

Chen Mo nodded, knowing Li Xiaodong's feeling was correct. After Zhao Lixin lost something so important, he absolutely wouldn't let it go. The current surface calm was just the dead silence before the storm.

"Close the door." Chen Mo's voice was low, but filled with unquestionable authority.

Li Xiaodong closed the door and drew the curtains. Only a dim table lamp remained in the room, stretching the shadows of the three people long against the wall.

Chen Mo looked at Li Xiaodong, then glanced at Song Wenqi. He remained silent for a moment, then finally spoke.

"There are two copies of this evidence."

Li Xiaodong and Song Wenqi were both stunned, looking at him in confusion.

"The documents in the iron box are the first copy," Chen Mo's gaze fell on Li Xiaodong. "They contain Zhao Lixin's personal signature, which is what they most want to destroy, and what they are now frantically searching for."

He paused, then pointed to the tape recorder on the table.

"This recording is the second copy."

Li Xiaodong seemed to understand something, but wasn't quite sure.

Chen Mo's eyes turned cold and sharp, like two surgical knives freshly tempered by fire. He looked at the two young people before him and said deliberately:

"One piece of evidence is for sacrifice. One piece of evidence is for judgment."