9 AM.

Jingpu City Police Station.

The conference room was brightly lit, with technical detectives continuously tapping on keyboards while the surveillance specialists focused intently on the surveillance footage on the screens. Aside from the growing number of coffee and strong tea on the table, several ashtrays filled with cigarette butts, and the increasingly visible anxiety and hidden frustration on everyone’s faces, there was no difference from the night before.

The frustration was justified. After all, no one had expected that even after a whole night of intense work, they still hadn’t been able to find any trace of Zhao Jiayang and Tao Fengche.

This wasn’t due to a lack of ability among the task force’s officers; it was simply that Zhao Jiayang’s counter-surveillance skills were too strong.

After the attempt to locate Zhao Jiayang through communication base stations failed, the technical team screened his call records and residence, but unfortunately, the results were not optimistic—his call records were clean, with no mistakes to be found. As for the luxury homes under his name, either his lovers lived there, or they were completely vacant.

The technical team hacked into the property management system and retrieved surveillance footage from various neighborhoods over the past half month, but still found nothing.

Jingpu covered a vast area with a dense population, and the cars Zhao Jiayang used mostly had fake plates, changed frequently, with drivers opting for backroads without surveillance. The surveillance specialists had worked all night and still couldn’t determine his location.

Although customs had no entry or exit records for Zhao Jiayang and Tao Fengche, and the private jet applications at the aviation management bureau were all normal without any abnormal flight paths, this didn’t mean he was trapped within the borders of Kyushu.

Everyone in the conference room knew well that if Zhao Jiayang drove directly to the port and took a boat out to international waters, he could easily leave.

This meant that with the entire task force present, working through the night, in the end, no one knew where Zhao Jiayang was, not even if he was still on Kyushu soil.

The police chief had a meeting to attend that day and left around 4 AM. Jiang Jingyun and Sui Yuesheng accompanied him out of the police station, watching him leave. Shortly after, Sui Yuesheng dismissed Jiang Jingyun, stood alone in the cold wind for a moment, and then returned to the conference room.

Just past six, Yu Hebai was the first to reach his limit. After checking with the officers, he went to the office, got an army cot, and set it up in the corner of the conference room. He spread his coat like a blanket and collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

As the hour hand neared 8, even Jiang Jingyun was resting his head on one hand, dozing off at the table.

Half an hour later, Jiang Jingyun suddenly woke up, surprised to find Sui Yuesheng still awake, intently focused on the screen.

Sui Yuesheng had not slept all night.

After ending the call with Zhao Jiayang and learning about the failed location attempt, he took several deep breaths to suppress his urge to explode, forcing himself back onto the chair. After calming down a bit, he stepped outside, made a few calls, and notified the remaining bodyguards from the Tao family to immediately join the search.

Upon returning to the conference room, he proactively asked for a computer from the surveillance specialists and started assisting them with the surveillance footage, continuing until now.

The investigation had hit a bottleneck. The kidnapped individual was the only heir of the Tao family, and a high-ranking senator was vigilantly accompanying them, with all officers on high alert. The conference room was eerily quiet, with only the rhythmic clattering of keyboards and the occasional soft exchanges about progress.

“Thud, thud, thud.”

The silence was broken by an outside officer who pushed open the conference room door, his boots clattering crisply against the floor.

Sui Yuesheng remained focused on the computer, while Jiang Jingyun glanced around and took on the social role, standing up to ask, “What’s going on?”

The task force leader nodded at the outside officer, signaling him to share the update.

The three quickly disappeared outside.

After a while, Jiang Jingyun pushed open the door, walked to Sui Yuesheng’s desk, and knocked lightly on the surface with his knuckles.

Sui Yuesheng looked up, shifting his gaze from the screen to find Jiang Jingyun holding two transparent evidence bags. He raised an eyebrow slightly.

“The outside team found something,” Jiang Jingyun said carefully, “but it’s not good news and doesn’t help with the case. You can decide whether or not you want to hear it.”

Sui Yuesheng raised the cold black coffee on the table to his lips, grimacing as the sour bitterness jolted him awake. His stomach twisted painfully, like a washing machine going through a mad spin cycle inside him. Under the table, he discreetly pressed his left hand against it, his voice deep as he said, “Just tell me.”

He was a naturally gifted actor, and Jiang Jingyun, indeed, didn’t detect any signs of distress.

“The last known location of Zhao Jiayang and Tao Fengche’s SIM cards was together, a few kilometers from Tao Fengche’s school. After identifying a rough area, several officers went out to look and ultimately found two mobile phones. The SIM cards were still in the phones, but unfortunately, the phones had been crushed under the wheels and were just left as fragments by the roadside.”

As Jiang Jingyun spoke, he handed one of the evidence bags to Sui Yuesheng. “It’s all here. However, the task force leader just told me that given the extent of the damage, there’s no possibility of recovering any data.”

After Jiang Jingyun finished explaining, Sui Yuesheng realized that the shattered pieces in the evidence bag were fragments of the phones.

He took the evidence bag but didn’t choose to open it. Instead, he examined it closely through the bag. After a moment, he spoke up, “The one on the right should be Tao Fengche’s new phone, which he had not long ago.”

He had seen Tao Fengche use it at the dining table not long ago, but now it had turned into a pile of unrecognizable shards.

Then Tao Fengche…

Sui Yuesheng dared not think further.

He sighed deeply, covering his eyes with his hand, and leaned back in his chair, as if suddenly deprived of all strength.

Jiang Jingyun silently observed him, sensing that he was on the verge of breaking down.

In Jiang Jingyun’s memory, Sui Yuesheng had always been impeccably dressed, as if he could head straight to a fashion show at any moment. They had known each other for years, and even during the nightmare of final exam month filled with deadlines or when Sui Yuesheng helped him through the campaign despite the time difference, Jiang Jingyun had never seen Sui Yuesheng looking disheveled.

Yu Hebai had joked a long time ago that Sui Yuesheng was either a reincarnated robot or someone with extreme cleanliness. The three of them had been in a café working on papers when Sui Yuesheng had given Yu Hebai a threatening smile, neither confirming nor denying.

But today’s Sui Yuesheng was completely out of character.

He hadn’t slept all night, not to mention freshening up. His once perfectly pressed handmade suit was now wrinkled, and even his tie looked limp. While the technical team relied on smoking to stay alert, Sui Yuesheng hadn’t smoked but had been forced to inhale a whole night’s worth of secondhand smoke, his body reeking of burnt tobacco.

This version of Sui Yuesheng was entirely unfamiliar to Jiang Jingyun.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Jingyun sighed, “Why don’t you take a nap? There are plenty of beds in the police station for napping. They often use them when they work overtime. Yu Hebai already took one, and there are more available. It’s indeed a bit shabby, but at least you can lie down for a while.”

“If you want, I can bring you one in. I’ll wake you up when it’s time?”

Jiang Jingyun’s gaze was filled with concern. In response to his friend’s kindness, Sui Yuesheng forced a smile, trying to reassure him, but it looked more painful than crying.

Then he shook his head and refused, his voice hoarse, “How can you expect me to sleep?”

His eyes were filled with red veins from staying up all night, paired with cobalt blue irises, making him look particularly frightening. His complexion and lips were as pale as paper, matching his light gray hair, making him appear like a centuries-old vampire from the legends of the Western continent.

But Sui Yuesheng was indeed a living person.

He was also tired; otherwise, he wouldn’t be relying on caffeine to stay awake. His body continually protested against him, and he wanted to sleep, but he didn’t dare to sleep, and even more so, he didn’t dare to close his eyes.

He was afraid that he would miss firsthand information because of falling asleep, and he was also afraid of the bloody scenes that would appear when he closed his eyes.

He was skilled with a gun and excelled in martial arts. It was obvious that life on the Western Continent was not one of calm and tranquility, a life devoted solely to study. He had long been able to shoot and kill without blinking, remaining unfazed by the sight of shattered brains and severed limbs; he thought he had grown accustomed to it.

But when the protagonist of the events became Tao Fengche, or even when it was just possible that it was Tao Fengche, he felt waves of panic that kept him awake at night.

Jiang Jingyun fell silent for a long time and ultimately did not speak. He just reached out and silently but firmly patted his shoulder.

Moments later, the silence was broken again.

“Hey, hey, hey! We brought you food! Our hands are full, hurry up and open the door!”

A few internal staff members shouted loudly at the door of the conference room, and a young investigator quickly ran to open it.

Jiang Jingyun exchanged a surprised glance with Sui Yuesheng.

Perhaps warned by the investigator who opened the door, upon realizing that the congressman was still inside, the internal staff became much more serious as they entered. They cleared a spot on the messy table and placed the bags filled with meal boxes on it.

“There’s a big G parked at the door. A rather young alpha came down and said it was food sent by the Tao family, so we brought it along.”

The internal staff knew not to ask about anything related to the case; after saying this, they left, leaving the people in the conference room staring blankly at the meal boxes.

Jiang Jingyun looked at Sui Yuesheng, somewhat surprised, silently indicating: Did you send someone?

Sui Yuesheng shook his head in confusion. He usually had everything well organized, but with Tao Fengche being kidnapped by Zhao Jiayang, he was flustered and genuinely hadn’t thought of this.

…Who could it be?

If it was Assistant Zhou delivering it, he wouldn’t have done it under the Tao family’s name.

He pondered for two seconds, pulled out his personal phone, and glanced at it. Sure enough, there was an unread message from Xu Song, which contained exactly what he had suspected.

“It was arranged by Uncle Xu. I called him last night before heading out,” Sui Yuesheng explained to Jiang Jingyun quickly and quietly. Then he cleared his throat, stood up, and wore just the right smile.

“Really, thank you all for your hard work. I’m not sure how I can help, but seeing that you haven’t eaten much, I took the liberty of having my family send some food over. It’s quite simple, so I hope you won’t mind.”

Sui Yuesheng’s tone was very humble, leaving everyone surprised, but also somewhat awkward—after all, Sui Yuesheng’s other identity was that of the hostage’s family member, and they typically wouldn’t accept such things.

…But they were really hungry.

When there was nothing to eat, it didn’t feel that bad, but now that the hot food was in front of them, the hunger became unbearable.

The officers turned their pleading eyes toward their leader. The special case team leader thought for a moment and nodded slightly.

Sui Yuesheng finally felt relieved.

Jiang Jingyun lagged half a step behind him, watching Sui Yuesheng’s back, feeling as if he were seeing a poppy flower in a stormy day—though the stem stood straight, it was actually being held up by sheer will, at risk of snapping at any moment.