The film crew brought the closest vehicle over and put Xi Tang in it.

A crew member was arranged to drive, with Little Ning in the front passenger seat, sobbing as she called Ni Kai Lun.

Zhao Ping Jin sat in the back seat, gripping Xi Tang’s arm, pressing a handkerchief against her wound. The bleeding hadn’t stopped and continued to flow. Little Ning handed him a towel. Earlier, when Xi Tang had been pulled out, the crew members gave her first aid. Several pairs of strong male hands forcefully turned her body over, placing her on their knees and vigorously pounding her back. The rescuers were so nervous that they lacked proper technique. The way they handled her made it seem as if Xi Tang’s frail body would break. Finally, she coughed up some water, and her nose and mouth resumed breathing. Little Ning fearfully turned her head away but saw Zhao Ping Jin kneeling on the ground holding her hand. Though his expression was composed, his face was pale, his lips frosted white—his entire being looked almost identical to Huang Xi Tang who had been soaked in the icy river water.

At that moment, Little Ning almost forgot to be afraid. When she worked as Wu Zhen Zhen’s assistant, she had seen Zhao Ping Jin several times—a cold and arrogant rich man who, no matter how coquettishly Wu Zhen Zhen acted, maintained a cool and distant demeanor, barely ever looking at people directly. She hadn’t expected that after several months, at this moment, she would see that this untouchable young master from the clouds was human after all.

The phone in Little Ning’s hand vibrated. She quickly came back to her senses—Ni Kai Lun was calling back.

Zhao Ping Jin wiped the water flowing from her body again and again. In a daze, he recalled that year, in the weather just as cold, when Fang Lang Qian had carried her out covered in blood.

His heart pounded with waves of panic.

Yet Zhao Ping Jin still had matters that required attention. He took out his phone with one hand; his palm was covered with sticky blood. In the car, he called Shen Min: “Bid according to the base price I mentioned last night. I have an emergency and won’t be going to the site. Have Li Ming go with you. You’ll make the presentation for me. I’ve arranged everything; we’re just going through the motions. Remember, make the competition look convincing—don’t let people see through it.”

Shen Min was busy at the company and only answered: “Understood.”

Zhao Ping Jin said in a deep voice: “Xiao Min, this must be done properly.”

Shen Min was silent for a moment: “Rest assured.”

Huang Xi Tang was taken to the nearest health center. After the emergency doctor treated her and conducted examinations, they confirmed she had no injuries other than to her arm. They stopped the bleeding and bandaged the wound. Xi Tang regained consciousness in the emergency room.

Her head was dizzy, and her speech and reactions were slow. The river surface had broken ice, and there were rocks at the bottom. The doctor, concerned about internal organ and brain damage, called an ambulance to take her to a hospital in the city. Zhao Ping Jin arranged for her to go to Peking Union Hospital. After entering the emergency area, she was transferred for a CT scan. Zhao Ping Jin, holding a stack of her examination forms, waited in the hallway, completely unable to sit down, feeling anxious beyond measure.

Huang Xi Tang regained consciousness in the hospital room and saw Zhao Ping Jin standing at her bedside.

Seeing her open her eyes, he just silently looked at her. Zhao Ping Jin frowned slightly: “Say something. Did the fall make you stupid?”

Xi Tang moved her lips: “You didn’t go back to the city first?”

Zhao Ping Jin replied irritably: “Who told you to fall spread-eagle into the river?”

Xi Tang didn’t dare speak.

Zhao Ping Jin lowered his head to examine her expression, somewhat concerned: “Are you dizzy?”

Xi Tang said: “I’m okay.”

Zhao Ping Jin softened his tone: “I’ve asked your assistant to go back to the hotel to pack some things for you. There’s nothing wrong. Rest well.”

Xi Tang looked at Zhao Ping Jin’s clothes. Probably from holding her, half of his clothes were wet, and the cuffs of his down jacket were dirty. The collar of his sweater was stained with blood: “I made your clothes dirty.”

Zhao Ping Jin shook his head: “You have become stupid.”

Zhao Ping Jin glanced at the time in the hospital corridor—it was already past five o’clock. He stroked her hair: “I’m going out to make a phone call.”

Zhao Ping Jin took out his phone; the screen was covered with Huang Xi Tang’s blood. He dialed a number as he walked out.

Xi Tang heard his slightly anxious voice outside the door: “Is that bidding over?”

Li Ming sounded puzzled on the other end: “The Jian Neng people left with very displeased expressions. Are you going to sign this deal or not?”

Zhao Ping Jin bluntly replied: “Sign my ass! I went to such lengths to squeeze out others just to make a wedding dress for him. The one at Jian Gong is Minister Lu’s nephew by marriage!”

Li Ming asked in confusion: “But we got it.”

Zhao Ping Jin was stunned for a second: “What did you say?”

Li Ming said: “I’ve already signed the contract. I just sent the investor’s people to the hotel. Hasn’t the secretary been frantically calling you? They’re waiting for you to come.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s heart skipped violently. He shouted into the phone: “Fuck! Who told you to act on your initiative?”

A nurse peeked out: “Family members, please keep it down.”

Zhao Ping Jin’s agitated voice gradually faded outside the door.

Xi Tang stared at the snow-white ceiling and slowly closed her eyes. She could probably guess who had sent her the message.

Zhao Ping Jin strode through the hospital corridor, lowering his voice but unable to contain his fury.

Li Ming continued chattering on the other end: “I didn’t know! The amount is ridiculously large—almost equal to our small quarterly earnings. Tsk, tsk. When I signed, I glanced at it and was shocked. Wasn’t this project handled by you and Xiao Min? You just called me to be there for the show. How would I know anything? I was just sitting there, and suddenly it was all over.”

Zhao Ping Jin finally came to his senses and grasped the key point: “How much did Shen Min bid?”

He stood beneath the hospital’s glass window, phone in hand, his expression darkening: “Li Ming, we’re in trouble.”

Zhao Ping Jin felt his temples throbbing painfully, with impure air continuously surging up from his chest.

“Where is he?”

“Tell him to come see me.”

Zhao Ping Jin hung up and called Gao Ji Yi, but the call wouldn’t go through.

Driver Master Liu came to pick him up and was shocked to see his clothes soaked and covered with filthy bloodstains: “Mr. Zhao!”

Zhao Ping Jin raised his eyebrows: “It’s nothing.”

The driver took him home to change clothes, then to the International Hotel where Li Ming was waiting in the lobby.

Upon seeing him, Li Ming grinned: “Falsely transmitting imperial orders—that’s a capital offense.”

Zhao Ping Jin had a ball of anger smoldering in his chest, burning him from within: “Where’s Shen Min?”

Li Ming pointed upstairs: “With the demeanor of someone calmly going to their death, entertaining the investors inside.”

Zhao Ping Jin strode in.

Li Ming followed him into the elevator and suddenly asked curiously: “Hey, Zhouzi, if this matter is so important that you wouldn’t even let me touch it, why didn’t you oversee it yourself?”

Zhao Ping Jin’s footsteps faltered, and his heart suddenly trembled violently.

He stopped in front of the magnificent elevator doors, thinking through the entire situation from beginning to end. His breathing suddenly became rapid, and all the blood seemed to drain from his body. Yet, involuntarily, a smile rose to his lips. In that instant, he almost wanted to throw his head back and laugh—laugh at his blindness, laugh at his hopelessness. His throat trembled as he let out a short, suppressed cough. Zhao Ping Jin tilted his head, pressing his fist against his lips, but couldn’t help laughing while coughing: “Li Ming, I’ve only just realized—this is a brilliantly orchestrated play of collusion.”

Li Ming, half a step behind him, didn’t hear clearly and turned to look at him, seeing only that though Zhao Ping Jin was smiling, the smile conveyed an indescribable strangeness and desolation: “What’s wrong?”

Zhao Ping Jin, his face pale, shook his head.

At that moment, the elevator arrived. Li Ming pushed him: “What are you standing there for?”

Once the two entered the private room, they were back to business entertainment. Zhao Ping Jin maintained a composed expression, drinking and dining with several executives from the partner company, engaging in lively conversation. Throughout the entire evening, Shen Min never dared to meet his gaze. Zhao Ping Jin’s heart grew increasingly cold. Shen Min had been with him for nearly ten years without ever making a mistake, truly his right-hand man. Yet it turned out he could betray him too. Those closest to him—his brothers, and the women in his bed—were all unreliable.

By the time the entertainment ended, it was already ten o’clock. After seeing the guests off, Zhao Ping Jin waved for Li Ming and the assistant to leave first. He walked toward his car, with Shen Min silently following behind.

Zhao Ping Jin looked up at him and said neutrally: “What happened?”

Shen Min kept his head down, not daring to look at him: “I did it. I await your punishment.”

Zhao Ping Jin asked coldly: “What benefit is there for you if Gao Ji Yi falls?”

Shen Min was respectful toward him but showed no sign of remorse: “There is no benefit. Some things are not done for benefit.”

Zhao Ping Jin laughed bitterly in his extreme anger: “Xiao Min, how impressive.”

Shen Min raised his head and looked at him. Zhao Ping Jin’s face was deathly pale. He had been drinking tonight, with red streaks in his eyes, and his face was so white it looked greenish.

Shen Min called out with concern: “Brother…”

Zhao Ping Jin had been worried and frightened all day, with no peace from noon until night. The effects of alcohol surged, making his head ache severely and his vision blur. He opened the car door, his voice growing weary: “You may go.”

Shen Min hesitated by his car, not daring to speak or leave.

Zhao Ping Jin, enduring his headache, said impatiently: “Why aren’t you leaving? Or do you want to come with me to the hospital? Your revolutionary comrade is still lying in there.”

Shen Min lowered his eyes and hesitated: “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

Zhao Ping Jin suddenly kicked the car door violently. The large black car resounded with a tremendous noise as he shouted in rage: “Weren’t you afraid she might die jumping into the river?”

Shen Min’s eyes reddened: “What happened to her?”

Zhao Ping Jin was furious to the extreme, his voice becoming hoarse: “Xiao Min, I truly didn’t realize that the two of you together could accomplish the most foolish things under heaven.”

Shen Min pleaded: “Don’t blame her. She knew nothing.”

This statement was as good as a confirmation. Zhao Ping Jin looked at Shen Min standing pitifully before him, thinking of the other one lying just as pitifully in the hospital. Both were acting like lords—untouchable, unreprimandable. He waved his hand in disillusionment: “I can’t control you. Go home.”

Zhao Ping Jin turned and walked back two steps when his stomach suddenly cramped, a piercing pain making his vision go black for a moment. He swayed and raised his hand to steady himself against the car. Seeing him unsteady, Shen Min quickly reached out to support his arm.

Zhao Ping Jin kicked at Shen Min but had no strength. He cursed through gritted teeth: “Every one of you ungrateful wretches.”

Shen Min quickly waved to someone nearby. Zhao Ping Jin’s driver ran over and reopened the car door. Driver Liu bowed as he held the top of the door, and Zhao Ping Jin sat inside the car.