Yin Feng scanned the rooms: equipment room, maintenance room, storage room. Without hesitation, he tried each door. The equipment room was locked from inside. The maintenance room opened easily—just a 10-square-meter space with several locked cabinets and tools piled in the corner, empty of people.

He pushed open the storage room door to find darkness within—more cabinets stacked with towels, medical uniforms, and packages of new medical supplies. Though he saw nothing could hide here, that fleeting figure still haunted his vision.

Perhaps they’d entered another patient room.

Checking his watch—two minutes had passed. He couldn’t delay any longer; he had to catch up with his target. He turned back.

Yin Feng returned to the nurses’ station.

He showed his expert credentials, and the nurse immediately understood. “Two police officers are guarding Room 1553.” Yin Feng nodded in thanks and walked toward it, his expression unreadable under the corridor’s security cameras.

This was a large, well-equipped hospital—why Li Mingdi had been brought here. Reaching the corridor’s end and turning another corner, Yin Feng found all patient room doors closed, lights off, with only dim illumination in the hallway.

Room 1553 lay ahead, two chairs outside—one empty, the other occupied by a slumped, seemingly sleeping officer.

Yin Feng instantly knew something was wrong. He rushed forward, checking the officer’s pulse—still strong. He noticed a small red mark on the neck: a tranquilizer dart. Champion’s arsenal included such weapons.

The door stood ajar. Yin Feng drew his gun and looked in. In the shadowy room, the black-clad figure was silently shooting a tranquilizer into the neck of the man who must be Li Mingdi’s father. The elder Li, already snoring, slumped deeper without a sound.

The figure holstered the tranquilizer gun and drew another weapon, silently attaching a suppressor as they approached the bed.

Only a dim bedside lamp illuminated Li Mingdi’s clean-washed, deeply sleeping face.

The figure slowly raised their gun.

Yin Feng gently pushed the door open, entering with his weapon raised.

The figure froze at the sound. They turned around slowly, revealing Chen Feng’s refined features, now twisted with cold murderous intent.

Seeing Yin Feng, his expression shifted to shock and panic. He lowered his gun, stammering, “Teacher Yin…”

Watching Chen Feng’s behavior, a thousand thoughts raced through Yin Feng’s mind. He lowered his weapon but spoke coldly: “What are you trying to do?”

Chen Feng’s expression hardened again, his gaze complex, words catching in his throat.

Yin Feng stepped forward, grabbing his collar with a cold laugh. In a low voice, he said, “What’s going on? Don’t you understand that if you kill Li Mingdi now, as one of my people, I’ll never clear my name? Are you trying to send me to prison? Or do you have some other scheme?”

“No!” Chen Feng almost shouted.

Yin Feng stared him down as Chen Feng’s face gradually turned ashen. He spoke slowly: “I don’t know exactly what happened back then, or completely understand what you wanted then. But I know if he doesn’t die, you’re going to prison!”

Yin Feng’s heart sank. He seemed to see a dark lake spreading beneath his feet, concealing unknown depths. He felt an icy chill.

“What do you mean?” Yin Feng asked slowly. “What are you talking about?”

Chen Feng suddenly looked up, tears gathering in his eyes for the first time in years. He spoke deliberately: “Three years ago, one night, you went with Su Ziyi, telling me not to follow.”

Yin Feng’s heart jumped—he had no memory of this.

Chen Feng continued: “It was your alma mater’s anniversary. You met junior schoolmates in the auditorium, attended the school banquet, and then told me to go ahead. I saw Su Ziyi get in your car.”

Yin Feng searched his memory carefully but found nothing after the anniversary celebration. He asked softly, “Then what?”

Chen Feng closed his eyes, and opened them again: “I discovered an important contract was with me, needed to be faxed to the Thai publishers that night. I couldn’t reach you by phone, so I followed by car. I saw you and her drive to the lake.”

Yin Feng’s face remained expressionless.

Tears fell as Chen Feng spoke: “I thought it strange but didn’t think there was anything I shouldn’t see, so I followed. I saw you enter that house, the door open, and I went in.”

Yin Feng gave a chilling laugh: “What did you see? Hmm?”

Chen Feng lowered his head: “I went down the stairs and saw you kissing Su Ziyi. Li Mingdi was locked in a chair.” He paused. “He had fresh whip marks and blood.”

Something crumbled inside Yin Feng.

If Chen Feng had never been to that secret room, he wouldn’t know about the stairs or Li Mingdi being restrained. A whip stained with old blood indeed hung on the wall.

But he couldn’t believe Chen Feng’s words. His voice was frost-laden: “If what you say is true, if I did those things, why can’t I remember any of it? This was before the Punisher took me—I remember everything else before Guizhou clearly. Would I not know what I had done?”

Chen Feng froze.

Yin Feng fell silent.

A terrible stillness filled the room as they faced each other.

Chen Feng steeled himself: “Regardless, he must die. I’ll kill him and turn myself in. This will be my doing, nothing to do with you.”

“Shut up. I don’t need anyone dying for me!” Yin Feng snapped.

Their voices must have risen too high—Li Mingdi groaned softly, slowly opening his eyes.

Chen Feng moved like lightning, spinning to press his gun against Li Mingdi’s temple. Seeing the scene before him, Li Mingdi was terrified. Yin Feng stood half a meter from the bed, backlit, his face dark and unreadable. Suddenly, Li Mingdi began trembling violently, like a beaten dog, barely able to form words: “Don’t come closer… please… don’t come closer… don’t torture me… don’t torture me anymore… All good is dead, and all evil prevails… I believe I submit! All good is dead, all evil prevails…”