BL Ch39

If a background track could be played right now, Zhao Feihua would definitely choose “Mission Impossible” without hesitation.

Is this a scene from Mission Impossible?

Lou Baoguo sucked in a breath, his chest puffing up so high that it looked like he was about to explode.

Ji Lin’s reaction wasn’t as exaggerated as theirs, but even he was momentarily surprised by Pei Ming’s words.

What kind of tactic was this? Personally infiltrating the enemy camp to gather intelligence?

Yu Duqiu remained silent for two seconds—just long enough to show careful consideration, neither too rash nor hesitant—before responding: “If Pei-ge wants to invest, I’d be happy, but my project is too uncertain, and your money might go to waste. If you’re looking to get into angel investing, I can recommend a few more promising startups.”

Pei Ming shook his head, adjusting his angle slightly downward to make his lashes seem even longer and his nose bridge more prominent. “Don’t be modest. I believe in your talent, and I heard you’ve already secured a ten-billion investment? A future ‘unicorn’ right in front of me—how could I pass that up? I may have missed this round, but I hope you’ll save me a spot for Series A.”

Lou Baoguo, utterly confused, typed a message to Zhao Feihua: [What’s a ‘unicorn’?]

Zhao Feihua typed back at lightning speed: [It’s an unlisted startup valued at over $1 billion. It shows huge potential, and investing in it is a guaranteed money-maker. Usually, people don’t get a spot, but Pei is trying to pull strings to get your young master to help him show off.]

The plain and straightforward explanation immediately made sense to Lou Baoguo: [Tsk, as if he could dream of that!]

Yu Duqiu made a noncommittal sound, dragging his words slowly, as if scheming something. Ji Lin couldn’t hold back and spoke up: “Mr. Pei, sorry to interrupt, but I need to know all of his contacts, including business dealings. You also mentioned an addiction issue earlier, which may be related to our ongoing investigation. So, if I may ask, why are you interested in this project?”

“Captain Ji, you’re so responsible.” Pei Ming took the gold-rimmed glasses handed over by his secretary and placed them on the bridge of his nose. He leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and his aura immediately filled the room. The photographer sat on the floor, using a low-angle shot to extend his lower half, fully highlighting his long legs.

Ji Lin: “…”

Lou Baoguo: [That narcissism is just a notch below the young master’s.]

Zhao Feihua: [I took a screenshot.]

Lou Baoguo: [?!]

“To be honest, I’m interested because of my father.” Pei Ming’s brows furrowed slightly. “What happened to him is still a shadow over our family. I want to invest in this project partly out of selfishness—to restore my family’s reputation. And partly out of sincerity—to atone for my father’s sins. Even though the road is long, I’ll give it my all.”

This second reason was hard to argue with. Anyone who rejected it would be seen as inhumane and cold-hearted, as if they were denying a dutiful son’s attempt to redeem his father.

Ji Lin wasn’t as shrewd as these business elites. He couldn’t think of a well-rounded response, so he could only awkwardly say, “I see.”

Next to him, Yu Duqiu suddenly chuckled softly. It was unclear if he was laughing at Ji Lin’s clumsiness, but Ji Lin seemed to catch a hint of mockery.

Ji Lin glared at him: Let’s see how you turn him down.

Yu Duqiu didn’t refuse at all.

“Alright, if it makes it to Series A, I’ll definitely save you a spot. But…” He paused and leaned forward, stepping into the light—his silver hair instantly reflecting dazzling brilliance, making him stand out and overshadow Pei Ming.

“As for this so-called ‘atonement,’ it’s just self-consolation. For those your father directly or indirectly harmed, even if he were to die for it, they wouldn’t come back to life. So what’s your sincerity worth? Besides, a person only has one heart; where did you find two? The so-called half selfishness, half sincerity? It’s really just selfishness wrapped in a noble excuse.”

Both Lou Baoguo and Zhao Feihua felt a surge of satisfaction.

Lou Baoguo didn’t have the education to express these thoughts, and Zhao Feihua, due to his position, had no standing to say them.

It took Yu Duqiu’s sharp tongue and arrogance to deliver such a verbal blow.

Pei Ming’s composure was remarkable. Even after hearing such barbed words, his expression remained unchanged.

Only the photographer, who was capturing a close-up of Pei Ming’s face, noticed a fleeting trace of gloom behind his glasses. Startled, his hand shook, resulting in a distorted, horrifying image on the camera’s screen.

“My words were harsh, but they’re the truth. Don’t be mad, Pei-ge.” Yu Duqiu’s tone shifted. “Besides, you didn’t commit those sins. What’s there to atone for? The most important thing is to live your own life well. Don’t follow your father’s path. Drugs… well, they’re even more addictive than nicotine.”

The cigar on the coffee table was still burning, a faint wisp of smoke rising straight up, like a vague and invisible crack between the two of them.

Pei Ming took off his glasses, picked up the half-finished cigar on the table, put it in his mouth, and spoke through the hazy smoke, his voice hard to decipher: “I certainly won’t walk the same path as him. But this path of yours—isn’t it just as dangerous? That accident twenty years ago proves that even geniuses have their moments of failure.”

The rich scent of the cigar spread through the mist, and Zhao Feihua, sitting behind the sofa, wrinkled his nose in distaste—he wasn’t fond of nicotine.

Lou Baoguo was about to mock him for being fussy, unaware that the other person next to him was drenched in cold sweat, despite the comfortably air-conditioned meeting room.

Meanwhile, at the City People’s Hospital, in a VIP luxury ward.

The last blood-stained cotton swab was tossed into the trash can, and Chief Surgeon Sun Xingchun put down the forceps, letting out a sigh of relief.

Zhou Yi hurriedly asked, “Dr. Sun, is my colleague going to be alright?”

Sun Xingchun waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

Zhou Yi’s heart tightened. “Huh? Is it serious? It just looks like a small wound to me.”

“If you knew it was a small wound, why come here!” Sun Xingchun snapped angrily, his white eyebrows standing on end as he spat his words. He slammed his fist on the desk with every insult, “A few minutes later, the wound would’ve scabbed! And you flew him here in a helicopter! I thought it was something serious! You interrupted my nap! Tell that brat of yours that I’m going to complain to his grandpa!”

Zhou Yi shrank back, not daring to speak.

Yu Duqiu feared nothing except his grandfather’s anger, having been raised by him since childhood.

After Sun Xingchun finished venting, Zhou Yi quickly apologized, coaxing him with all sorts of excuses until he finally managed to defuse the near-explosive family conflict.

Sun Xingchun, still grumbling, put away his tools. “When he was a kid, it was mental illness—fine, I dealt with it. But now that he’s supposedly normal, why is he still tormenting this old man? Does he think I’ve lived too long?”

Zhou Yi didn’t dare mention that he wasn’t exactly “normal” now either, so he kept smiling and placating: “Oh, come on now, Doctor Sun, you’ll live to be a hundred! I’ll talk to the young master and make sure he doesn’t trouble you again. This is the first time, and I swear it’ll be the last!”

Sun Xingchun stopped what he was doing. “First time? This isn’t the first time, is it? He looks familiar.”

Zhou Yi was puzzled. “That’s impossible. He’s my new colleague; you shouldn’t have met him before.”

“Really? Then I must be mistaken.” Sun Xingchun muttered a couple of words before pointing to the door. “Alright, get out of here. Seeing you young ones with no sense of urgency just irritates me.”

Zhou Yi quickly led the injured person out respectfully. Turning around, he saw the injured person fiddling with the freshly applied bandage.

“What are you doing?!”

Bai Zhao flinched. “…It’s uncomfortable.”

Zhou Yi pulled his hand down. “Uncomfortable or not, you need to keep it on. If you have a wound, it needs to be bandaged. Don’t you know that?”

“My common sense says small wounds like this will heal on their own in a while. No need to bother, and no one’s ever bandaged me before.”

Zhou Yi, reading between the lines of his plain tone, mentally filled in the tragic past of an orphan. His fatherly compassion overflowed instantly. “Well, now you do! Listen to your elders, and it’ll heal faster. Look at this scar on my face. I didn’t treat the wound in time, and now I’ve got this ugly thing. When I attend my daughter Xiaoguo’s school meetings, I still have to wear a mask so her classmates don’t make fun of her for having a scary-looking dad.”

Bai Zhao was indifferent. “If my dad looked like that, I’d think it was pretty cool.”

A warm feeling surged in Zhou Yi’s heart, but a moment later, he felt something was off. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you hinting I should be your dad? Are you after my daughter?!”

“…”

Bai Zhao withdrew his hand and obediently pressed the bandage on his neck, changing the subject from the dangerous one they were just on: “How did you get that scar?”

Zhou Yi waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t bring it up. Back when I was stationed with the army in Yunnan, I got into a fight with some drug traffickers who crossed the border from Myanmar. A piece of a grenade hit me. Before that, I was quite the looker—handsome and dashing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have won over such a beautiful wife.”

“That kind of scar can be removed with surgery. Since we’re already at the hospital, why not get a consultation?”

“No need. This scar is like one of my weapons. Sometimes I don’t even have to do anything, and it scares off people. Let’s go back to the company. I don’t know what’s happening with the young master, and I’m afraid Baoguo can’t handle it. Feihua’s all talk—useless in a fight.” Zhou Yi turned and walked out. “Let’s grab a cab back. Even though that helicopter was donated by the young master and he can use it anytime, it’s still a medical resource, so it’s not right to use it for nothing.”

“Yeah, the elevator’s that way.” Bai Zhao tugged at him, leading them in the other direction. “Does he donate to hospitals often?”

Zhou Yi rarely came here. The Yu family’s private doctors usually took care of minor illnesses, and they had flown over this time only because the company was close to the city hospital. He didn’t notice anything strange and followed Bai Zhao to the right. “Not often, I think. He’s only donated to this hospital.”

“Why?”

“You heard it earlier. Director Sun knows the young master’s grandfather, Academician Yu. Back when the young master wasn’t in a good mental state, he used to come here to recuperate. Even though Director Sun is a surgeon, he often visited the young master in the internal medicine ward.”

“Was this after he was kidnapped?”

“Yeah, after—wait, no.” Zhou Yi stared at the suddenly appearing elevator door in confusion and asked, “How did you know the elevator was in this corner? We couldn’t see it from where we were standing.”

“I’m a regular here,” Bai Zhao said, pressing the down button for the elevator before stepping back to wait. “Pei Corp reimburses medical expenses for its employees, and we get an annual physical exam—all done here.”

“That makes sense. No wonder Director Sun said you looked familiar. Maybe he really has seen you before. Pei Corp’s benefits are pretty good.”

“It’s nothing special; many companies offer the same.”

“Don’t take it for granted. Back in my day, we didn’t have anything like that,” Zhou Yi chuckled. “If we did… Xiaoguo’s mom might not have passed so early.”

Bai Zhao opened his mouth, paused for a half-second, then closed it again. He seemed like he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate.

“Ding!” The elevator arrived. The doors opened slowly, and the two of them stepped in, joining a crowd of patients and their families. They descended to the first floor in silence and were among the last to step out of the elevator.

After walking just a couple of steps, Bai Zhao couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer and glanced at Zhou Yi.

Zhou Yi chuckled. “If you want to ask, just ask. You being so cautious all of a sudden is making me uncomfortable.”

“I’m always careful,” Bai Zhao defended himself, his eyes asking if it was okay to ask.

“Hey, it was many years ago. I’ve long moved on—no need to tiptoe around it,” Zhou Yi said with a faint, somewhat lonely smile. “Back then, I was in the army and only came home a few days a year. After we got married, my wife handled everything at home. She fainted twice and thought it was just exhaustion. She didn’t go to the hospital and didn’t tell me either. By the time they found out it was brain cancer… it was already in the late stages.”

Zhou Yi sniffled, as if he had a cold, and looked down at the road beneath his feet. “To raise money for her treatment, I left the army and applied to be a bodyguard for various wealthy people. But the medical bills were urgent, and no one was willing to give me an advance. Selling the house wasn’t enough, and we were running out of options… until I met the young master.”

“He was only fourteen or fifteen back then, but he was already famous. What struck me the most was that virtual currencies had just come out, and no one believed in them. People thought they were worthless, but the young master spent a few hundred dollars to buy thousands of coins. He said, ‘The crazier the investment, the more likely it is to bring astonishing success. And even if it doesn’t, I’ll enjoy the thrill of the gamble—what’s there to lose?’ I couldn’t believe those words were coming from a kid, but time proved he had incredible foresight. Those thousands of coins in his account are now worth billions.”

“At the same time, I’d heard he had a difficult personality and was harsh with his staff, firing people on a whim. So, I wasn’t planning to apply. But I was desperate, and with no other options, I figured I might as well give it a shot. If it didn’t work out, I’d sell my blood, sell my organs—whatever I could to raise the money.”

“To my surprise, he personally came to the final interview. There were a dozen other candidates with me, all with impressive resumes. They were smooth talkers too, coming off as loyal and trustworthy. I’m not good with words, so I just told the truth, thinking I didn’t stand a chance.”

Zhou Yi paused here, recalling the scene, and smiled. “But to my shock, the young master picked me in the end. I didn’t even understand why, so I boldly asked him. He said that the loyalty the others showed was fake. They were only after the high salary, and if someone offered them more, they’d easily betray him. But with me, if he gave me the same amount of money, I’d be grateful to him for life—I’d fight for him, even die for him. Hiring me made more sense.”

Bai Zhao shook his head. “That was just an excuse. He’s always like that—hiding his kindness behind practical reasons. He knows that for someone of his status, kindness is a weakness others will exploit.”

Zhou Yi nodded in agreement. “I understand now too. The young master isn’t as selfish as he appears. After I joined, he immediately gave me an advance on ten years’ worth of salary—millions of yuan. At the time, I thought he was crazy, not afraid that I’d take the money and run. No sane person would do that, but he really transferred the money. That money kept my wife alive for three more years. She got to watch Xiaoguo grow up, go to kindergarten, write letters to her, and leave behind a lot of videos. Even though she’s gone now, Xiaoguo still feels like her mom is with her. We even traveled a lot with Xiaoguo—stayed in the best hotels, all paid for by the young master. My wife had so much fun. She said she’d never lived so luxuriously in her whole life.”

Zhou Yi’s eyes reddened slightly, and his voice became choked. “In the end, she passed away peacefully, saying all her wishes had been fulfilled. She had no regrets, and she closed her eyes in my arms… Later, the young master helped me turn my wife’s ashes into a diamond, saying that on Xiaoguo’s wedding day, she could wear it. That way, her mother would still be there to witness it.”

Outside the hospital, people came and went. Some dragged their ailing bodies toward uncertain outcomes, while others emerged with light steps, breathing in the fresh air free from the scent of disinfectant, enjoying the last bright day of June, as if reborn.

People come, people go. How many more farewells between life and death will the world witness before summer ends and autumn arrives?

“Life’s just one big dream,” Bai Zhao said, hailing a taxi and opening the door. “Your wife just left your dream. Your daughter is still here, so it’s still a beautiful dream.”

Zhou Yi got in and gave the driver the address. He smiled and turned to Bai Zhao. “You’re so young, yet you have such a clear perspective on life. You’re right. I still have my daughter, my parents, and of course, the young master. Gratitude should be repaid, and I owe him my life. People always criticize him, but I think he’s a better person than most who pretend to be kind. Don’t you agree?”

“It doesn’t matter what his true nature is. I don’t care,” Bai Zhao said firmly, his face a little pale from the blood loss and the helicopter ride, though his words were resolute. “Whether he’s kind or cruel, whether the world loves him or despises him, I’ll stay by his side.”

“You’re contradicting yourself. Of all of us, you’re the one who listens to the young master the least.”

“He has plenty of people who follow his orders. If I did too, it would be boring.”

Zhou Yi didn’t understand at first, but after thinking for a moment, he suddenly got it. “Xiao Bai, you’re really something, huh!”

Bai Zhao closed his eyes to rest, remaining silent.

As the taxi left the hospital and stopped at a red light, an ambulance aggressively passed them from behind, its blaring siren swiftly cutting through the air before speeding away.

Zhou Yi carefully studied his new colleague, recalling that Hong Liangzhang had mentioned that Yu Duqiu was investigating him—using the same strict measures as when Zhou himself had joined.

The reason for such scrutiny wasn’t necessarily suspicion. More likely, it was for another reason—Yu Duqiu genuinely wanted to keep him.

It was likely the first time someone had gone from a temporary employee to a full-time worker in just one month. Besides, Yu Duqiu never mixed personal relationships with close employees, yet he had made exceptions for Bai Zhao repeatedly.

Can anyone really control fire?

If they can, maybe it’s not a bad thing.

Zhou Yi pondered for a moment and then tactfully reminded, “Since you’re committed to following the young master loyally, as your brother, let me give you some advice. Don’t get so caught up in trying to attract his attention that you forget your main duty. As bodyguards, the most important thing is to ensure the safety of our employer. This project the young master is working on, the ‘Taimesi’ project—”

“…” Bai Zhao corrected him in a bored tone, “It’s called ‘Themis,’ the goddess of law and order from ancient Greek mythology. It’s clear that this project is for solving crimes, otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen that name. Plus, he doesn’t believe in gods, so whether this project will work… only he knows.”

Zhou Yi was momentarily stunned. “Turns out the young master can name things well… I don’t really understand business matters. All I know is that whether the young master is serious or just playing around, he’s already drawn a lot of attention. You’ve seen how many things have happened recently. Be careful not to let him repeat the mistakes of twenty years ago.”

Bai Zhao seemed intrigued by the last part and opened his eyes slightly. “What exactly happened twenty years ago? I’ve heard you mention it a few times.”

Zhou Yi said, “You don’t know? Well, you were probably too young back then. It’s been so many years, even the news from that time is hard to find. I didn’t witness it myself, but I’ve seen reports, and Hong Bo has hinted at some things. It goes something like this…”

Twenty years ago, Pingyi City was emerging as a hub for high-tech industries, and the New Jin District was established around that time. The government invested significant funds, bringing in talent and companies to launch various advanced projects. Yu Duqiu’s grandfather, Yu Youhai, a renowned domestic scientific expert, was a key figure the government favored.

At the time, Yu Youhai was also a university professor and had a prized student named Cen Wan, who specialized in brain-neurology. She was one of the earliest researchers in brain-computer interfaces in the country. The city government saw great potential in this field and allocated considerable research funding. Naturally, they also promoted it publicly to attract more societal sponsorships, mentioning that, in the future, brain-computer interfaces could potentially help treat addiction.

However, a month after the promotional news came out, Cen Wan’s family was involved in a major car accident.

“The car veered off the mountain road, fell off a cliff, and the fuel tank exploded. All four family members, including her young son and daughter, died with no survivors,” Zhou Yi said, sighing in regret. “Professor Yu arrived at the scene and saw the horrific remains of his student’s family. He was deeply traumatized and half-retired afterward. Cen Wan was also the best friend of the young master’s mother, so when he decided to pursue brain-computer interface research, the entire Yu family opposed it because the tragedy had left a lasting shadow.”

The red light turned green, and the taxi moved forward again. The driver, intrigued by the passengers’ conversation, discreetly pretended not to hear anything, waiting for more, but Bai Zhao stayed silent. After a while, he finally asked, “Was the culprit caught?”

“There wasn’t a culprit—at least not on the surface,” Zhou Yi explained. “They were out on a family trip, and there was only one road up and down the mountain. Security cameras showed no other cars passing by at the time. The police inspected the car wreckage and found nothing unusual. But the investigative technology twenty years ago wasn’t as advanced as it is now, so maybe something was missed. Still, it’s too late to go back and investigate now.”

“After that, the government halted Cen Wan’s research because the day before the car accident, she had just tested the latest brain-computer device in her lab. Many people suspected that this caused her to become mentally unstable and led to reckless driving, resulting in the tragedy. But Professor Yu and the young master’s mother didn’t believe it was an accident. Unfortunately, there was no evidence. Two years later, Professor Yu tried to restart his student’s research, but that was when the young master was kidnapped. I’m not sure if the two incidents are related. Regardless, Professor Yu was busy taking care of the young master, who wasn’t in a good mental state, and he didn’t have the energy to continue. That project was shelved indefinitely.”

“Since then, many scientists across the country have started researching brain-computer interfaces, but not in Pingyi City. Even though society is much safer now, there’s no guarantee that the ‘accident’ from back then won’t happen again. The young master is tackling a difficult project this time, so danger is inevitable. You need to protect him like… like…” Zhou Yi searched for the right word to express Yu Duqiu’s importance, and then a thought struck him. He smacked his forehead and said, “Like you would protect your wife.”

The driver nearly floored the gas pedal, suddenly feeling like a pawn in a dangerous game.

A faint smile appeared on Bai Zhao’s usually expressionless face. “Not ‘like.’ He is my wife.”

The driver was now certain—he had indeed been dragged into something absurd.

Zhou Yi was used to Bai Zhao’s rebellious comments and didn’t take them seriously. He chuckled and said, “Such bold words,” then leaned back, folding his arms to rest.

At that moment, Zhou Yi’s phone suddenly vibrated furiously.

The caller was Lou Baoguo. Worried that something had happened at the company, Zhou Yi quickly answered, “Hello?”

Without even a greeting, Lou Baoguo’s anxious voice yelled, “Zhou! Are you guys done yet? Hurry back!”

Hearing this, Bai Zhao reached over, grabbed the phone, and turned on the speaker. “What’s going on?”

“That security guard suddenly went crazy! He started babbling nonsense and smashing things! Ji Lin suspects he’s on drugs!” Lou Baoguo quickly described the situation. “The police just rushed in and subdued him, but Pei Ming brought a photographer, and they took pictures. Feihua is worried Pei Ming will send them to the media, so they’re stopping him from leaving. Pei Ming seems to have noticed the undercover police and is getting suspicious, insisting on leaving. It feels like a fight could break out any second!”