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

Fu Mingde sat down, a smile appearing on his face: "It's nice, this place has life. It's better than sitting cooped up inside."

After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere became lively.

Gong Yuelong never mentioned Lao Mao's matter, but chatted with Fu Mingde about the development of the High-tech Zone, interesting things at the construction site, and occasionally offered a toast.

Fu Mingde smiled and agreed, asking a few questions about the workers' living conditions and wage payments, showing his approachable nature.

But the occasional glances he cast at Gong Yuelong always revealed a hint of urging.

Gong Yuelong pretended not to see anything, eating and drinking as usual, behaving like a generous and forthright leader.

The diners at the next few tables had already noticed this unusual combination.

Those who recognized Fu Mingde exclaimed in hushed tones:

"Look over there! It's the Public Security Bureau! The guy drinking with him... isn't that the famous Boss Gong from lately?"

"Seriously! How did they end up having a barbecue together? And with so many of their men... This relationship is definitely not ordinary!"

"It's more than just extraordinary. Look at the setup. Director Fu isn't even sitting in the main seat. It's that Boss Gong who's making all the arrangements... It's remarkable."

These whispers and comments, more or less, reached Fu Mingde's ears.

His expression remained unchanged, but he knew in his heart that Gong Yuelong's choice of this location was yet another strategic move.

After the meal, what everyone saw was not Fu Mingde questioning and urging Gong Yuelong.

Instead, Fu Mingde, in the most vibrant and down-to-earth area of ​​the High-tech Zone, enjoyed drinks and conversation with the then-rising star Gong Yuelong and his core team.

This sends a signal ten times stronger than office conversations.

The question he wanted to ask, amidst the noisy setting and repeated clinking of glasses, became somewhat difficult to utter.

A serious question would ruin the atmosphere and make him seem petty and impatient.

It wasn't until just before the event ended that Fu Mingde, taking advantage of a toast, leaned closer and asked:

"Boss Gong, you've worked hard. The brothers have been following you all day. Any new information from over there?"

Gong Yuelong, holding a wine bottle, filled his glass.

"Don't worry, Director Fu, the wind hasn't stopped. The brighter the lights are, the more the shadows can't be hidden."

"We must drink our wine sip by sip, and walk our path step by step. Tonight, we'll drink until we drop!" he shouted.

Looking into his open and honest eyes, Fu Mingde knew that he wouldn't get any more information out of him tonight.

He raised his glass and clinked it heavily with Gong Yuelong's.

"Okay. I'll wait for your good news."

Fu Mingde knew that he had been led astray by this guy again.

Gong Yuelong knew that the movements of the old cat given by the system needed to be triggered.

Empty bottles littered the ground, and bamboo skewers were piled up like a small mountain.

Smoke, the smell of alcohol, and men's laughter mingled together.

Gong Yuelong accepted all offers of wine, drinking whatever was offered. He downed a mix of beer and baijiu, his eyes gradually becoming somewhat unfocused, but he remained quite composed.

He just laughed, laughed loudly, as if he wanted to let out everything that had been weighing on his heart for the past few days, no, for all these years, through the alcohol.

"Brother Long, that's enough, shall we go back?"

"Go back? Go back where?" Gong Yuelong waved his hand and said in a loud voice.

"This place is great! It's lively! All my brothers are here!"

He grabbed a half-empty bottle of beer, swayed as he stood up, and shouted, "Come on! One more! For...for the damn tomorrow!"

Everyone cheered and agreed, and the messy glasses clinked together, splashing wine everywhere.

When the party finally ended, Gong Yuelong was walking unsteadily, humming an off-key tune, which drew the attention of other customers in the barbecue restaurant. Even the most powerful person becomes like this when they're drunk.

A night breeze blew, and Gong Yuelong felt a churning in his stomach. He leaned against a tree by the roadside and vomited violently.

After vomiting, I felt a little more awake, but also a little more confused.

He broke free from the support and tried to walk on his own, but stumbled.

"Brother Long, watch out!"

Gong Yuelong waved his hand, strained his eyes to focus, hailed a taxi, and returned to the courtyard where the characters were being demolished.

……

That night, a torrential downpour began.

The rain pounded on the ground, and the road quickly turned into a muddy mess.

The filthy road leading to the courtyard with the characters "拆字" (a pun on "拆字") was so muddy that if you stepped on it, the mud would reach your ankles.

This road is eerily dark; walking on it sends chills down your spine.

It was at this moment that the old cat climbed over the courtyard wall.

The rain soaked him to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead. The yard was eerily quiet; apart from the deafening sound of the rain, nothing else could be heard.

The window of Gong Yuelong's brick house let in a yellowish light, swaying in the rainy night like an alluring bait.

He crept along the wall, and just as he reached the doorway, before his hand even touched the door, someone inside spoke.

"The door's unlocked, Chen Mao. It's raining heavily, come in."

Old Cat froze. How did he know? How did he know it was me? And he even knew my real name?

The door was ajar.

He gritted his teeth and slowly pushed it away.

There was only one broken lamp in the room, its light yellowish tint.

Gong Yuelong sat behind the table, shirtless, revealing his muscular shoulders and arms.

He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and next to him on the table was a large, greasy pipe wrench that looked heavy.

Seeing the old cat come in, Gong Yuelong raised his eyelids, took off his cigarette, and tapped the ash off the cigarette next to a tin can.

"I've been waiting for you for ages. Did Wu Jinshui send you to take my life?"

The old cat didn't say a word, standing at the door, water dripping down its trousers and spreading on the ground.

His eyes quickly scanned the room—under the bed, behind the door, in the corner piled with junk…it didn’t seem like anyone was hiding there. But the uneasy feeling in his heart grew stronger.

"Just you?" the old cat asked, his voice hoarse and unpleasant.

"ah."

Gong Yuelong responded and leaned back in his chair, which creaked.

He pointed to the empty chair opposite him. "Sit? Or are we just going to stand and talk?"

The old cat didn't move.

His hand slowly moved to his waist, where a short knife was tucked, its hilt icy cold.

How did you know I would come?

"Just a guess," Gong Yuelong chuckled.

"Wu Jinshui has suffered repeated setbacks, and Wang Biao has also been defeated. All he can use is you, the knife hidden in the shadows?"

"Rainy days are good for getting things done; the noise is all covered up by the rain. If it were me, I'd choose this time too."

He paused, looking at the old cat:

"Your mother's illness must be quite expensive, right? Uremia? She needs dialysis two or three times a week? How much money did Wu Jinshui promise you after it's done? How long will that be enough for your mother to survive?"

Old Cat tightened his grip on the knife.

How could he know all these things so clearly?

"Oh, and one more thing,"

"Eight years ago, in that house on the third floor. The man, the woman, and their daughter who was in high school, were all stabbed to death in the house by you."

"Only my eight-year-old son was left, huddled in the closet. You stabbed him; he didn't die, but his kidney was damaged, leaving him with a lifelong disability. Do you know what happened to that child afterward?"

These words hit the old cat like a blunt object on the top of his head.

His breathing became erratic, and his vision blurred for a moment, as if he could see again the blood splattering under the dim light that night, and the terrified eyes of the child peeking through the gap in the wardrobe.

"Who the hell are you?!"