After my divorce at thirty, I developed an intelligence network.

In the latter half of the night, the rain began to fall gradually.

At the Xinke construction site in the High-tech Zone, mud mixed with rainwater, and there were potholes everywhere.

Wang Biao leaned on a thick wooden stick he had picked up from the construction site, wading through the muddy water with one foot deep and the other shallow.

Every movement of my left leg was excruciatingly painful, and I couldn't tell if the sweat on my forehead was cold sweat or rain.

Finally, we managed to sneak behind the pile of scrap materials near the wall.

A few tattered templates and dirty tarpaulins were still piled up haphazardly there, exactly as they were when he left last night.

Wang Biao, panting heavily, used a wooden stick to pry open a piece of template.

Below was compacted mud, damp and reflecting a faint light. It was empty.

He picked off another piece, then another. His hands were trembling slightly.

No. Nothing at all. Those heavy bundles of rebar were as if they had never existed.

There were only a few deep and wide indentations on the muddy ground.

Wang Biao stood there frozen, the wooden stick falling into the muddy water with a thud.

His first thought was: Had one of his own people been transferred? Did the boss have other plans?

But it was immediately rejected. Impossible. He knew the rules of this dirty work: once the bait was in, it wouldn't be moved unless the net was pulled in.

And even if something is done, the person in charge will be informed.

The only possibility...

It wasn't transferred by our own people.

It was taken away by someone...

Right under his nose, shortly after he put his things away and left.

Who did it?

Gong Yuelong. It can only be one of Gong Yuelong's people.

Those tire tracks... were from a crane. They not only took it, but they used a crane to blatantly transport it away.

The fire that had been burning in Wang Biao's chest due to his leg injury and the feeling of being suffocated suddenly shot up to the top of his head, making his vision go black.

He could almost see those bundles of steel bars being lifted away by a crane, weighed, inspected, and then turned into stacks of banknotes...

And he himself, like a fool, dragged his broken leg here in the rain.

"Hold……!"

Wang Biao slammed his fist into the template next to him, sawdust embedded in his fist, mixed with mud and water, causing a sharp pain.

But this pain is nothing compared to the feeling of anger, panic, and coldness in my heart.

Something is missing. Something valuable, something used to set a trap, is missing.

It was lost in the part he was responsible for.

What will Wu Jinshui think?

Wang Biao knew his boss all too well.

He won't fly into a rage, nor will he immediately call for war.

His first suspicion would be: Are the people below him dishonest? Has someone leaked the information? Or... worse, has someone turned against him and conspired with outsiders?

As for himself, a wounded soldier who had just caused trouble, he was undoubtedly the first suspect.

The wound on my leg started throbbing with pain.

He recalled the way Wu Jinping used to play with walnuts, and those eyes that had little warmth in them.

Thinking back to those years, those brothers who were incompetent or suspected of being dishonest all disappeared without a trace.

Wang Biao stood still, letting the rain soak him through.

No.

We can't just let it go like this.

The items were placed by him, and they also need to be retrieved by him.

If he loses this, he's finished.

If we can find it, even just a part of it, there's still room for things to turn around.

He has to find it. He absolutely must find it. Before dawn, before many people know about it.

Ask along each road, explore each alleyway.

There aren't many cranes, and even fewer that can work at night.

There are always clues.

The wound on his leg throbbed with pain, but he couldn't care less.

Compared to Wu Jinshui's suspicions, this little bit of pain is nothing.

He took one last look at the empty muddy ground and the mocking tire tracks on the ground, then turned around, dragging his aching leg, and walked step by step, grinding his way through the mud, toward the darkness outside the construction site.

We must find it. We must get it back.

……

As dawn broke, the rain stopped, and the air was damp and stuffy.

On the third floor of the old cotton mill residential compound in the west of the city, Wang Biao, leaning on a wooden cane and dragging his leg in a cast, poked open the peeling green iron door.

The room reeked of mold and medicine. A heart-wrenching cough came from the inner room.

Wang Biao didn't turn on the main light, but switched on the small wall lamp. He went to the kitchen first to warm the medicine. He strained a bowl of it and brought it into the inner room.

The old woman on the bed was so thin she was unrecognizable.

Wang Biao helped her up, propped her up with pillows, and fed her the medicine spoonful by spoonful. His movements were a little stiff, but steady.

The old lady obediently drank it, frowning from the bitterness without uttering a sound.

After feeding the medicine, I gave him two sips of water and wiped his mouth.

Wang Biao sat down on the old wooden stool, which creaked.

"The medicine is in the cabinet by the stove, enough for a week, twice a day, don't forget." His voice was hoarse.

The old woman, panting, looked at his dirty clothes and injured leg with worried eyes: "Biaozi... has he gotten into trouble again?"

Wang Biao's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer. He stood up and said, "Don't worry about it. Focus on getting better."

She looked at him with her cloudy eyes and said slowly:

"Biaozi... Mom knows you... it's not easy out there. We don't care about getting rich or famous... just being safe and sound is enough. Be careful when you do things."

Wang Biao grunted in agreement, withdrew his hand, and closed the door.

He stood in the dimly lit living room, listening to coughing from the inner room.

He went to the kitchen, bent down over the tap, splashed his face with cold water, and drank several large gulps. He looked up at his scarred face in the mirror.

careful?

He grabbed a dirty towel to dry himself, then picked up a wooden stick from the wall and gripped it tightly.

He turned and went out.

We need to get those things back.

……

……

Wu Jinshui carried the gifts and slowly walked into Wang Biao's house.

Two henchmen stood guard at the door.

In the dimly lit inner room, on the bed, Wang Biao's old mother huddled in the quilt in fear.

Wu Jinshui walked to the bedside and gently placed two boxes of nutritional supplements on the bedside table. He even bent down slightly, a smile on his face.

"Auntie, are you not feeling well? Lie down and don't move. I'm Biaozi's friend, my surname is Wu, I've come to see you."

The old woman's eyes were filled with fear; she recognized the face and the look in those eyes.

Sometimes my son would come home late at night with injuries on his body, and when he was drinking alone, he would talk about how great his eldest son was.

Her lips trembled, and she couldn't speak.

"Where's Biaozi? My brother here, he's injured his leg, instead of staying home to recover, where has he gone? He's not answering his phone."

The old woman shook her head with difficulty, "I...I don't know...he...gave me my medicine this morning...and then he left..."

"Gone?" Wu Jinshui's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. "Didn't say where he went? Didn't say... What's the rush?"

"No...nothing..." The old lady's breathing became even heavier, and her withered hand subconsciously reached for the bedside table, trying to find a water glass, but knocked over the empty medicine bowl.

The porcelain bowl crashed to the ground, shattering into pieces, and the dregs of medicine splattered everywhere.

One of his men at the door made a move, but Wu Jinshui raised his hand to stop him.

He suddenly chuckled. "Looks like Biaozi's busy with something important. He doesn't even have time to tell his own mother the details."

The old woman just shook her head frantically, her fear preventing her from speaking a complete sentence.

Wu Jinshui stared at her for two seconds, and the last vestige of his smile vanished completely.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed the old woman's thin wrist!

"Ah—!" The old lady let out a short scream.

With a forceful effort, Wu Jinshui half-dragged the frail old woman off the bed! The blanket slipped off, revealing her emaciated body.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice.

"I'm asking you! Where did Wang Biao go?!"

The old lady was being pulled so hard she could barely breathe, her face turning purple, and she could only shake her head desperately.

"Not going to talk?" Wu Jinshui tightened her grip even more. "Did he embezzle the stuff? Did he run away? Huh? You're his mother, how could you not know?!"

"No... I really don't know... Biaozi... he wouldn't..." The old lady squeezed out broken words through clenched teeth.

Two burly men stood at the door, expressionless, like two guardian deities.

Wu Jinshui pressed her for more questions, staring intently at the old woman's terrified face, as if trying to dig out the truth from it.

A few seconds later, he suddenly let go.

The old lady collapsed back onto the bed like a rag doll, coughing violently, her frail body curled up in a ball, trembling uncontrollably.

Wu Jinshui straightened up, took out a handkerchief, and slowly wiped his hand that had just grabbed the old lady's wrist, as if it had been stained with something unclean.

His face regained its cold calm.

"Good, good. Biaozi is filial; it seems he didn't tell you."

He stopped looking at the old woman coughing hysterically in bed and turned to leave.

He stopped at the doorway, turning half his face to the side.

"Auntie, if Biaozi comes back, or if there's any news, tell him to contact me immediately. Some things can't be delayed. He has difficulty walking, and I'm worried about him wandering around outside alone..."

After saying that, he didn't linger and walked straight towards the door.

The two men immediately stepped aside.

Just as Wu Jinshui stepped out of the door, he suddenly stopped, turned his head, and uttered his last words to the room.

"Tell him it's okay if the things are lost. But if a person gets lost... or goes astray, then they're truly gone forever."

Inside, there was a deathly silence.

After a long while, the old woman's suppressed sobs finally came from the inner room.