The towering buildings had a cold and colorful facade, their imposing structures reaching high into the sky. The lobbies were often adorned with shining stone tiles, and the receptionists and security guards scrutinized everyone who entered.

Each building had its own distribution of elevators—each elevator had its own rules. Some wouldn’t go up, some wouldn’t go down, some differentiated between odd and even floors, and some required card access. They had a set of self-contained rules that often left strangers confused and created a sense of alienation in this small “nation.”

But the Twin Towers were different. Despite undergoing multiple renovations, Luo Wenzhou knew them like the back of his hand. He had interned there for half a year, but even then, he hadn’t been able to stay. They preferred a foreign law school student who only understood the European and American legal systems.

Now, he had changed a lot. Those lawyers who only dealt with basic contracts could only seek his advice when handling highly specialized cases. Within this building, the former intern Xiao Zhao had transformed into “Teacher Zhao.”

However, every corridor and hidden staircase still held significance in his mind. Even if there was no power outage, he was confident he could avoid the surveillance within the building.

Unfortunately, the timing, location, and people were all in favor of someone else interfering.

When he mingled in the crowd, preparing to watch the splendid “performance” on the “sky screen,” he was interrupted by Fei Du. He became furious, almost immediately realizing that this was a despicable maneuver—perhaps to support his despicable friends, or perhaps for some commercial purpose.

These people held unimaginable wealth and social resources. Even if they were all idiots and a regular due diligence report made them sleepy and yawn, as long as occasionally, with the efforts of countless professionals, they pretended to draw one or two obvious conclusions, they would immediately be praised as “young talents.”

A police officer and a few temporary security guards hurriedly arrived to maintain order, “Everyone, please do not linger near tall buildings. We are still inspecting the rooftop, and there is some danger here. Please cooperate. Thank you. Sorry, it’s all for everyone’s safety…”

The crowd slowly moved in response, but no one noticed a refined and fair man turning and disappearing into the darkness.

The police were evacuating the crowd, indicating that they were getting closer, yet that stupid woman still hadn’t jumped.

He didn’t know if she had suddenly become afraid or if she had been fooled by that despicable pretty boy. In theory, he had prepared for this—the rooftop of Building A faced the Central Square, and he had tampered with the protective railing. Even if she hesitated, the loose railing would help her make a decision.

His plan should have been foolproof. What unexpected accident had occurred?

He had to go back and see.

He quickly calculated and played it sly, not entering Building A but instead circling to one end of Building B. He sneaked in through a side entrance of a coffee shop at the bottom of the office building and quietly took the emergency passage dedicated to deliveries and takeout couriers, running all the way to the eighth floor. There was an aerial corridor between the twin towers that conveniently connected to the emergency staircase on the eighth floor.

The entrance and exit of the aerial corridor were under surveillance, but that didn’t matter. There were green plant walls on one side of the corridor and a gap for one person to pass through on the other side, which was a blind spot for the surveillance. Even though he knew the Twin Towers had experienced a complete power outage and that the surveillance was useless, he decided to proceed with utmost caution.

This power outage was truly a gift from fate.

He felt pleased, moving lightly as he passed through the green plant wall. Unbeknownst to him, the slight trembling of the foliage caused the motionless surveillance camera to suddenly shift by a tiny angle—

Luo Wenzhou came down with the emergency personnel, having sent Wang Xiujuan onto an ambulance. When he turned around, he happened to see Tao Ran and several detectives escorting a handsome man into a police car. The man, who had only encountered him briefly, felt his gaze and immediately directed a gaze of hatred and anger towards him.

Tao Ran gestured to him and raised a evidence bag containing a pair of gloves.

Luo Wenzhou nodded, lit a cigarette, and scrutinized the man held under custody.

The man angrily shouted at him, “I only came back to get a document. Who gave you the right to arrest people casually? Do you have any evidence? When the police can’t solve a case, they just arbitrarily arrest innocent people to take the blame? Let go! You barbarians! You can’t afford to compensate me if you wrinkle my clothes!”

“Oh, my precious,” Luo Wenzhou spoke with a cigarette in his mouth, “you scared me. It seems like I, a poor ghost, will have to borrow some money from Daddy Fei.”

Watching the man being forcefully pushed into the police car, Luo Wenzhou extended his hand and blew a kiss at him, saying, “Bye-bye.”

Before the words fell, a hand reached out and rudely took the cigarette from his mouth.

Lang Qiao’s makeup had long been smudged, revealing dark circles from a night of running around. Her face, except for her eyes, was devoid of anything else. She casually threw the cigarette into a nearby trash can and pointed to the ambulance behind her, saying, “You, get in too!”

Luo Wenzhou: “…”

“Look at your disheveled appearance,” Lang Qiao scolded impatiently. “Get in the car quickly and stay in the hospital obediently tomorrow. Don’t come back.”

Luo Wenzhou sighed, “Little girl, you haven’t even come of age, and you’re already trying to seize your father’s power?”

Lang Qiao fumed with anger, pointing at him with her sharp finger, “You…”

“Hey, calm down,” Luo Wenzhou interrupted her. “Do you know where Fei went?”

Lang Qiao paused, instinctively looked up at the “sky screen.” The closing ceremony rehearsal was already playing, nearing its end. The dazzling lights paled in comparison to the earlier crime scene. The onlookers were bored and scrolling through their social media feeds for trending topics.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. You go find him…” Lang Qiao looked around, and when she turned back, Luo Wenzhou had already vanished.

Luo Wenzhou casually took a coat from one of the police cars, which someone had left there, and draped it over himself to conceal the bloodstains. He dialed Fei Du’s number, but there was no answer. Luo Wenzhou headed towards the Economic and Trade Center with large strides. He first went to the control room and saw a group of staff members eating supper. Upon inquiring, he found out that Fei Du had already left.

He obtained a rough idea of Fei Du’s whereabouts, and immediately chased after him. As he walked, he dialed his phone. Finally, he faintly heard the ringtone of “You Raise Me Up” from behind the building.

Luo Wenzhou followed the sound and discovered a small garden surrounded by shrubs. Inside, there were several stone tables and chairs, and a corner of the “sky screen” was visible when he looked up. There were no streetlights.

Fei Du sat on one of the stone stools, not minding the dirt, leaning against the stone table. His phone was placed beside him, acting like a loudspeaker.

Luo Wenzhou hung up the phone and walked over. “Do you want me to play you a song?”

Fei Du couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge him. He closed his eyes as if he had already fallen asleep.

Luo Wenzhou sat down a few steps away, his upper body stiff. He appeared somewhat uncoordinated, as if he had some physical impairment.

However, his eyes emitted two clusters of light, faintly flickering, but not piercing.

For a moment, Fei Du felt that this somewhat familiar man seemed a bit strange.

Luo Wenzhou’s features were distinct and handsome, and his figure was still in good shape. It was difficult to determine his age. People might believe he was in his thirties, but they might also think he was in his twenties. However, Fei Du knew that when Luo Wenzhou was truly in his early twenties, he didn’t look like this.

At that time, Luo Wenzhou was a genuine young master, arrogant and witty in his speech. He showed no mercy, leaving a strong impression of haughtiness. But now, his appearance resembled a stone sculpture that had been polished by time. The once vague contours had become clear, while the superficial soul had settled deep within. Looking from a deeper perspective, it seemed almost gentle.

Luo Wenzhou slightly adjusted his sitting position. “Was what you said on the ‘sky screen’ true?”

Fei Du raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. “Of course not. I was just confusing my own experiences with hers, trying to establish an emotional connection with her.”

Luo Wenzhou hesitated for a moment—his experience of having a proper conversation with Fei Du was limited. They always ended up attacking each other personally unintentionally. After a long time, he couldn’t come up with a suitable way to phrase things, so he simply said whatever came to mind.

Luo Wenzhou: “I investigated your father back then.”

It wasn’t surprising. A woman died silently at home, and her only son insisted that it wasn’t a suicide. As a precautionary measure, aside from forensic evidence, they would definitely have to investigate the people around the deceased. Therefore, Fei Du glanced at him with a hint of impatience, wishing he would stop spouting nonsense.

“During that process, I discovered another group of people who were also investigating him,” Luo Wenzhou continued. “They were a bunch of unemployed youngsters who called themselves ‘private detectives.’ You hired them, right?”

Fei Du’s patience reached its limit, and he stood up to leave.

“There was another time when you were doing homework at Tao Ran’s house and left behind a few unused calculation papers. There were indentations on them, and I used a pencil to shade them, only to discover that it was your father’s itinerary. It had already been over two years since your mother’s incident. During those two years, were you constantly keeping an eye on your father’s movements?” Luo Wenzhou paid no attention to his attitude and calmly said, “At one point, I found this matter quite chilling. Later, your father had another accident…”

When Fei Du heard this, he paused in his steps. He had coincidentally walked up to Luo Wenzhou’s side and suddenly smiled silently.

He lowered his head and looked at Luo Wenzhou, his gaze carrying a hint of danger as he asked, “Do you suspect me of being involved?”

Luo Wenzhou met his flirtatious gaze head-on and couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration—this kid’s appearance really lived up to the audience’s expectations.

Fei Du slightly bent down, raised a finger to his lips, and whispered softly, “It’s highly possible, Luo Team. Just think about it. Whether he died or became a vegetable, I am the sole inheritor of his enormous wealth. As long as…”

Before he could finish his sentence, Luo Wenzhou forcefully interrupted this pretentious process. He reached out, grabbed Fei Du by the collar, and pulled his neck down, then slapped him hard on the forehead.

The palm was scorching hot, and Fei Du felt like he had been struck by a branding iron. He staggered back half a step in astonishment.

Luo Wenzhou: “I try to have a decent conversation with you, and yet you’re so detestable.”

Fei Du regained his senses and angrily tugged at his collar—just who was detestable here?

But then Luo Wenzhou said the next sentence, “However, I suddenly realized that someone who would willingly expose their own chest in public to save an unfamiliar woman should not be a dangerous person. I was actually planning to apologize to you for the prejudice and suspicion over these years.”

Fei Du was taken aback for a moment. However, before he could muster a cold smirk, his collar suddenly sank without warning. Luo Wenzhou toppled forward heavily and landed directly on him.

Fei Du immediately felt like he was wrapped in a scorching electric blanket. After a brief moment of surprise, he cautiously extended the back of his hand and touched Luo Wenzhou’s forehead. It was scorching hot, almost smoking.

Fei Du then pinched the corner of his coat, lifted it, and took a quick glance. After a single look, he immediately turned his head away—feeling nauseated.

Maintaining this strange posture for a while, he finally managed to calm his rolling stomach. He stared at Luo Wenzhou expressionlessly, as if contemplating whether to stew or fry this piece of pork belly.

Then, seemingly dissatisfied with the man’s tough skin and old texture, Fei Du clicked his tongue in disdain. He bent down, gestured a few poses, not wanting to carry him on his back or in his arms. He attempted to lift Luo Wenzhou’s waistband onto his shoulder but found him too heavy.

Fei Du tossed the unconscious Luo Wenzhou onto a nearby stone chair and picked up his almost-dead phone to call Tao Ran.

“Hello, emergency services?” he said with a less-than-friendly tone. “I found an old man who seems to be on the verge of passing out. How do I hand him over to you?”