The elevator chimed as it arrived. The metal doors slowly opened.
Four maintenance workers stood inside the elevator, while Jiang Shiyan and his assistant waited outside. Their gazes met briefly in the air.
The four workers exited the elevator without a sideways glance. Jiang Shiyan, hands in his suit pockets, moved to enter. As their shoulders brushed, Jiang Shiyan suddenly furrowed his brow and involuntarily swallowed. He then stepped into the elevator with a notably heightened sense of alertness.
His assistant followed, pressing the button for the 23rd floor where the Credit Review Department was located. Throughout this process, Jiang Shiyan’s eyes remained locked on the four men walking away.
As the metal doors began to close, leaving only a fist-sized gap, Jiang Shiyan abruptly blocked them with his hand and shouted, “Excuse me, gentlemen in front, please wait!”
His heart was racing, filled with an inexplicable tension, as if closing the doors would mean missing something crucial.
The elevator doors took a few seconds to react, by which time the four workers had nearly reached the exit. Jiang Shiyan rushed out of the elevator, chasing after them and calling out, “Please wait! Someone stop them!”
Bystanders didn’t understand his intentions, while the four workers ignored him completely, quickening their pace as they entered the revolving door.
The distance from the elevators to the main entrance of Hui Shang Bank was about thirty meters. Jiang Shiyan reached the revolving door just as the workers exited on the other side. The semicircular door slowly rotated back to face Jiang Shiyan, who entered it, taking a deep breath.
The workers were walking faster now, eventually breaking into a run as they boarded a van parked at the entrance.
Jiang Shiyan emerged from the revolving door just as the workers closed the van’s door with a “click.”
His heart leaped into his throat. He called for security to stop the vehicle, and a guard ran over from nearby.
“Stop that car, please!” Jiang Shiyan shouted as he chased after the van.
There was nearly ten meters between him and the vehicle, which was steadily increasing its lead.
The security guard tried to help, but the van had used a temporary card to enter. At the exit, they simply inserted the card, waited for the barrier to rise, and sped away.
Jiang Shiyan quickly moved to open his car, but just as he pulled the door handle, he saw the van make a series of quick turns, disappearing down a side street instead of taking the main road…
Why was he chasing a maintenance van? Was he going crazy?
Jiang Shiyan stared blankly at the fading exhaust, his mind in a fog.
At this moment, his assistant caught up, panting heavily. “Those workers did seem strange. Their build and demeanor were too rigid like they had military training.” He could understand his boss’s inexplicable behavior.
“But,” the assistant continued, pointing at the display screen at Hui Shang Bank’s entrance while catching his breath, “the bank is indeed maintaining its surveillance and monitoring systems today…”
Before the assistant could finish, Jiang Shiyan suddenly dropped his hand and sprinted back to the lobby, rushing into an elevator.
Inside, Jiang Shiyan’s shiny black shoe tips tapped the floor rhythmically, like a drumbeat, his thin lips pressed into a tight line.
The assistant followed closely as Jiang Shiyan impatiently waited for the elevator to reach the 23rd floor.
“Ding—”
Almost as soon as the doors opened, Jiang Shiyan burst out.
The Credit Review Department was empty.
Jiang Shiyan rushed to Tang Yang’s office.
“Yangyang, are you—” His hand steadied on the doorframe as he swung around, his gaze falling on the empty office. Jiang Shiyan’s steps faltered to a stop.
No one inside, no one outside.
Only the footsteps of his assistant echoed as clearly as Jiang Shiyan’s erratic heartbeat.
Yangyang… was gone?
Hadn’t Yangyang said she was waiting for him?
Jiang Shiyan stood stunned for several seconds before pushing past his assistant and turning around swiftly. He checked the restrooms, the washrooms, and the balcony. No one was there.
The assistant also realized something was wrong: “The other floors have already cleared out for the day…”
In Tang Yang’s first week at Hui Shang, Jiang Shiyan had familiarized himself with the layout of the entire building. The security center was on the 21st floor. He clattered down the stairs while repeatedly calling Tang Yang’s phone. One call, then another. No answer.
Jiang Shiyan also reported the situation to the police, providing a brief description, but was told that missing persons cases could only be filed after 24 hours.
After hanging up, Jiang Shiyan strode into the security center, speaking rapidly: “Check the surveillance footage for the Credit Review Department, and for the gray van that left through the main entrance five minutes ago…”
The person in charge emerged from his office: “Hello, Mr. Jiang. We need to follow procedures to access the surveillance footage. Please fill out this form, then take it to the secretary’s office on the top floor for signature and stamp…”
The man handed the form to the assistant. Jiang Shiyan’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the wall behind him as his assistant began filling out the form.
The security center was filled with equipment displaying surveillance footage from various parts of the building. Some feeds were live, some delayed by five minutes, others by ten. Jiang Shiyan’s eyes darted around aimlessly.
The person in charge asked, “Did Ms. Tang lose something?”
Jiang Shiyan didn’t respond.
Feeling awkward, the man rubbed his nose and reminded Jiang Shiyan’s assistant: “We’ll need ID numbers for both you and Mr. Jiang, as well as your workplace and contact addresses. Then you’ll need to specify which surveillance areas you want to review…”
Normally, Jiang Shiyan was a reasonable person.
But now he had been waiting far too long. Every second felt like an eternity. The security chief’s voice buzzed in his ears like a mosquito. Jiang Shiyan recalled the four hurried maintenance workers, his heart racing faster and faster, approaching a critical point—
Jiang Shiyan suddenly closed his eyes, then forced them open, and dialed Tu Chen’s number.
Tu Chen was the vice president in charge of external cooperation, and the one who had received the paper from Fan Linlang. Receiving Jiang Shiyan’s call, he was slightly nervous but tried to sound calm: “Hello, Mr. Jiang. How may I—”
“My wife, Tang Yang, has inexplicably disappeared from her workplace. Your surveillance footage access process is too cumbersome, and I’m not one for bureaucratic talk,” Jiang Shiyan said, staring directly at the bewildered face of the security chief. He spoke concisely, “I need to know my wife’s whereabouts, the circumstances surrounding her disappearance, and your explanation. If you don’t address this within ten minutes, as a family member, I’ll have no choice but to issue a missing person alert across all media platforms.”
The person in charge listened, terrified.
Jiang Shiyan’s eyes were as deep and dark as a tempestuous sea, but his face remained increasingly calm.
He had known for days that Yangyang wanted to investigate the Nine Rivers incident, and he suspected her disappearance might be related to Wei Changqiu. It wasn’t until he saw the surveillance footage from five minutes ago—four men in suits entering the Credit Review Department with trained precision and familiarity…
The bank had many departments, and even on the 23rd floor, there was a loan department next to Credit Review.
What did this familiarity imply?
High-level involvement? Hired “workers”? Providing these “workers” with Yangyang’s information?
Jiang Shiyan’s mind raced with possibilities.
On the phone, Vice President Tu tried to reassure him repeatedly.
Leaning against the security center’s doorway, Jiang Shiyan spoke softly but firmly: “We are partners. I’m offering you the highest traffic and exposure, free of charge.”
Vice President Tu fell silent.
Jiang Shiyan’s cold, low voice resonated through their connection: “I promise that on every platform where content can be shared, the first thing people will see will be my wife’s name,” Jiang Shiyan continued, emphasizing each word, “along with Hui Shang Bank.”
It was a threat.
Because that’s exactly what it was meant to be.
Nine minutes later.
Friday evening, 6:40 PM.
The usually quiet Hui Shang Bank building was now brightly lit.
Hui Shang had one president and four vice presidents; one was on a long business trip, but the other four were all present.
The Security Department was searching for Tang Yang floor by floor, and the surveillance footage had been reviewed: Tang Yang had entered Hui Shang at noon and hadn’t left since.
All evidence pointed to those four men who had entered the elevator with Tang Yang in suits and exited as workers carrying two large toolboxes.
In the encrypted conference room on the top floor, the screen was paused at the moment when the four workers brushed past Jiang Shiyan.
Earlier, on the top floor, Vice President Tu had tried to placate Jiang Shiyan: “We’ll investigate the maintenance company workers immediately and provide you with a reasonable explanation as soon as possible. Please try to stay calm.”
After Jiang Shiyan left, the bank executives remained in the conference room.
Vice President Tu’s eyes flickered as he carefully explained to the others: “I notified President Wei to take her away—”
Before he could finish, Zhou Zisheng hurled the stack of security documents at Tu Chen.
Originally, Tu Chen had planned to have Tang Yang taken away and temporarily detained himself. But now, handing her over to Wei Changqiu was an entirely different matter. What did it mean to hand her over to a man whose hands were stained with who knows how much blood?
The other two vice presidents recalled a past incident and looked at Tu Chen with complex expressions.
Tu Chen knew he was in the wrong: “But I specifically instructed that she wasn’t to be harmed in any way.”
The others’ expressions remained grim.
Tu Chen continued, “The key issue now isn’t that Wei Changqiu took Tang Yang away because he found out she was investigating Nine Rivers. It’s how we explain this to Jiang Shiyan. Getting Tang Yang back is the easy part,” Tu Chen looked around the room, “The crucial question is who will take responsibility for her disappearance.”
In Tu Chen’s plan, most people would have left the Credit Review Department by 6 PM, allowing the workers who had entered Hui Shang earlier to take Tang Yang away. At 7 PM, Hui Shang’s official website would post an announcement, and the secretary’s office would send a message to Jiang Shiyan, explaining that this was a sudden closed training session about confidential data for “Tan Xin Tong.”
They had learned from Yixiu’s website that there was a small shareholders’ meeting today, so they assumed Jiang Shiyan wouldn’t leave early.
However, they didn’t know that Yixiu’s option pool differed from traditional shareholding structures. Yixiu’s shareholders were mostly in their early thirties and extremely efficient, finishing their business quickly and adjourning. Tu Chen and the others also didn’t anticipate that Jiang Shiyan would grow impatient and come to pick up Tang Yang, coincidentally encountering those workers.
A brief silence fell over the room.
Zhou Zisheng leaned on the conference table, his face flushed an unnatural red: “You say you’ll take full responsibility, in my office.”
“President Zhou,” Tu Chen looked at Zhou Zisheng, his lips trembling, “You have a closer relationship with Ms. Tang and Mr. Jiang. Ms. Tang will return eventually,” Tu Chen probed, “If you were to take responsibility, I think it would have a good mitigating effect for both parties.”
Another vice president sneered, “Vice President Tu, have you forgotten what you said in front of us earlier? Trying to shift blame now seems a bit…”
Tu Chen defended himself: “I’m not trying to shift blame. The core issue is that Jiang Shiyan has made his stance clear and is waiting downstairs. We must give him an explanation. We need to find the optimal solution, and that solution is President Zhou—”
Zhou Zisheng glanced coldly at Tu Chen and asked, “And if I refuse to take responsibility?”
—-
Downstairs, family members weren’t usually allowed in the Credit Review Department, especially outside of working hours.
But given the urgency and unusual circumstances of the situation, and considering it was Jiang Shiyan, an exception was made.
The Security Center and Cheng Siran were simultaneously tracking the van. Jiang Shiyan waited in Tang Yang’s office, his phone screen displaying the same image as the conference room upstairs.
The method of stuffing someone into a toolbox…
If it was the higher-ups who provided the information, and Wei Changqiu who took Yangyang away—
As soon as this conjecture entered his mind, Jiang Shiyan’s chest felt as if it were stuffed with water-soaked cotton, swelling and constricting, suddenly making it hard to breathe.
Outside the window, dark clouds hung over the city like an early nightfall, though the rain had yet to fall.
The window in Tang Yang’s office was propped open halfway, letting in gusts of wind.
Jiang Shiyan sorted through Tang Yang’s personal belongings while his assistant organized the documents on her desk.
There were no signs of struggle or fight in the office. Even the documents showed no creases, which Jiang Shiyan subconsciously felt carried some hidden implication, although he currently had no contact with Yangyang and was worried about her situation without knowing anything.
Yangyang’s bag was half-packed, indicating she was preparing to go downstairs to wait for him but was taken away before leaving the office.
Yangyang’s habit when packing her bag was to first put her lipstick and cushion compact from the desk drawer into the bag’s compartment, then add her wallet. The lipstick and compact were already in place, but the wallet was still on the desk. However, she had zipped up the compartment, suggesting she was composed at the time.
Tang Yang had been missing for half an hour. Jiang Shiyan’s face showed no emotion as he silently packed her things, slowly piecing together each detail, carefully analyzing… pretending his breathing was steady, pretending his movements were orderly and that he could think clearly.
Author’s Note: All 25-word, 2-point comments within 24 hours of this chapter will receive red envelopes.
Ah, I originally wanted to write more, but Short Chapter-Kun didn’t even get halfway through. The next chapter will probably be super sweet.
The artist is preparing for their graduation defense, so updates might be unstable. Please pay attention to the story notes; I’ll ask for leave in advance. If nothing unexpected happens, the story should conclude within ten chapters. I hope the graduation goes smoothly (sighs and blows smoke rings).
Congratulations to Jiang Big Dog for winning today’s WeChat step count ranking!
And a little scene:
Little Jiang Dog looks like Tang Yang but has a personality more like Tang Yang’s father.
Little Jiang Dog likes the highly precise train and airplane models in the lab, enjoys watching “Discovery,” and likes to carry around a small toolbox to take apart computers and phones at home. He’s smart, and precocious, and dislikes candies, amusement parks, and anything with a childish air.
If there’s anything like Jiang Shiyan about him, it’s that Little Jiang Dog also particularly likes Yangyang.
The father and son often compete for Yangyang’s attention. Fighting for the seat next to Yangyang at every meal is common, as is Little Jiang Dog always winning the “who falls asleep first” competition when Jiang Big Dog is home, mockingly staying up late while Jiang Big Dog falls asleep early. But as soon as Jiang Big Dog goes on a business trip, the four-year-old Little Jiang Dog comes over with his little pillow, softly asking Yangyang to accompany him to sleep at night and play during the day.
Every time Jiang Big Dog returns from a business trip, he closes the door to be alone with Yangyang.
Little Jiang Dog knocks on the door.
Jiang Big Dog opens the door a crack, and expressionlessly throws Little Jiang Dog’s things on the ground: “Take it back.”
Little Jiang Dog: “Are you still not eating dinner? Should I leave with Grandma later?”
Jiang Shiyan: “Mm. Mm.”
Little Jiang Dog: “Why aren’t you wearing clothes every time you open the door?”
Jiang Shiyan: “Because you knock at inconvenient times.”
Little Jiang Dog can’t help but frown: “It’s the middle of winter, why are you so sweaty? What are you two doing in there—”
“Watching cartoons!” Jiang Shiyan says impatiently but doesn’t close the door.
Father and son’s gazes clash in the air.
A few seconds later, Little Jiang Dog seriously criticizes: “Childish!”
Jiang Shiyan nods perfunctorily: “Mm-hmm, do you know how many people are in Peppa Pig’s family…”
Little Jiang Dog doesn’t even take his things, puts his little hands behind his back, and walks away with utter disdain, walking away, walking away…