Chapter Nineteen: The Corner

In a pitch-black alley, two people were whispering to each other, seemingly waiting for someone.

One of them glanced toward the entrance and said, "Is there really eight million?"

"Why would I lie to you? Listen, this has to be done cleanly. Otherwise, not only will the eight million disappear, but you'll lose your job as well," the other replied.

These two were the hospital's newest employees—one a janitor, the other a night watchman in the morgue. They laughed slyly as they looked at a photograph in their hands, the image unmistakably that of Shu Miaoyan.

At the same time, at the far end of the alley lay a wealthy district, where residents were either affluent or influential, forming a stark contrast between poverty and riches. Near the alley, a small gate led to the home of Zhang Chengdong and his family.

Zhang Chengdong's son, Zhang Junyi, had been born with congenital heart disease. Doctors asserted he would not live past ten. Zhang Chengdong was the family's only son, the sole heir for three generations. Misfortune struck when his wife, pregnant only a short while, was in a car accident that left her unable to bear children.

Zhang Junyi had been carefully protected since the womb, surviving against all odds.

Ouyang Zhuo, smoking as he spoke, glanced curiously at Shu Yiming and asked, "Tell me, Ming, how did you know it was this family? I kept an eye on those two just now; they really did contact Zhang Chengdong."

Ouyang Zhuo was deeply shocked and somewhat unconvinced.

Just moments earlier, he had listed several suspects, all with prior records and all from the school. Yet Shu Yiming was adamant about the least likely candidate.

The two even placed a bet: whoever lost would have to run thirty laps around the complex in nothing but their underwear.

"Yes, that's settled. I told you someone helped with this, but you refused to believe me, kept talking logic. Have you heard? Sometimes the people who seem the kindest are the most likely," Shu Yiming replied with a serene smile.

"Alright, but I still think something's off. That person doesn't look like a villain at all, and while they did make contact, I couldn't intercept the call. There's something strange about all this," Ouyang Zhuo frowned, convinced things weren't so simple.

Three days later, Shu Yiming was thoroughly prepared. He had anticipated almost everything, and now all he needed was for Zhang Chengdong to make his move so evidence could be collected.

Morning sunlight spilled across the table. Shu Miaoyan was especially cheerful, humming tunes as her twin braids bounced, warming Shu Yiming's heart.

"Miaomiao, didn't you want me to attend the sports day? I didn't agree before, but I've thought it through—you're the most important," Shu Yiming said, placing a peeled egg into Shu Miaoyan's bowl.

She paused, then burst out laughing, throwing her arms around Shu Yiming's neck and showering his cheek with messy kisses.

"Hey, hey, your saliva! Miaoyan, you're growing up now, you can't do this anymore," Shu Yiming laughed, vowing internally that nothing could spoil today, not even if the King of Heaven descended.

"Brother, I knew you were the best! Don't worry, I'll behave from now on. I'll be your cutest, most obedient little princess, okay?"

At her age, Miaoyan was still dreaming sweet dreams. Everything seemed beautiful in her eyes.

Shu Yiming patted her head, took her arm, and led her outside.

Ouyang Zhuo had been waiting in the car for ages. Seeing the pair emerge, he grinned broadly. The three of them sang cheerful songs about silly little huskies as they drove to the school.

In previous years, Shu Yiming's parents had attended the school sports day. Since their passing, Miaoyan had become much more reliant on Shu Yiming.

But as soon as they entered, Miaoyan darted off like a kite with a broken string, leaving behind a quick goodbye before vanishing into the crowd.

"Seriously, brother, your little sister's so lively—aren't you afraid she'll run off? I can't keep track of her," Ouyang Zhuo grumbled, wishing they'd warned the girl ahead of time. That way, if anything happened, they'd be ready.

Shu Yiming caught the implication, slapped Ouyang Zhuo's thigh and retorted, "Have you ever seen a little girl able to keep secrets?"

"At her age, if you tell her, she’ll be so scared she won’t even walk. Then all our preparations would be for nothing. Not everyone was like you, sneaking into the principal's office at ten."

"True enough," Ouyang Zhuo chuckled. "You're right. If we don't catch this person now, they'll surely cause trouble elsewhere later!"

"Glad you've come to your senses," Shu Yiming smiled. "Alright, enough talk. Keep your eyes open—if anything happens, I won't forgive you."

"Don't worry, I've arranged everything," Ouyang Zhuo replied, though he followed anyway.

To avoid suspicion, Shu Yiming had disguised himself as a janitor, blending into the crowd, his gaze fixed on Zhang Chengdong in the distance.

Zhang Chengdong appeared to be searching for someone, eventually heading into the men's restroom.

Shu Yiming followed, observing a janitor standing opposite Zhang Chengdong, the two deep in conversation. Shu Yiming studied the layout and quietly slipped to the other side, placing a recording device in the ventilation shaft.

The two points were linked, allowing sound to pass through.

"Have you secured the goods? Look, you can’t just leave it lying around. I’m giving this to you, so keep your word. My son needs it urgently, and I’ve spent a fortune," Zhang Chengdong whispered, handing over a black plastic bag containing a hefty gold brick—at least ten kilograms, his entire fortune.

Once the recording was complete, Shu Yiming clenched his fist around the device, his expression darkening as he continued to tail them.

Meanwhile, Ouyang Zhuo spotted a suspicious figure in the crowd—a man in a baseball cap and athletic wear, holding a child by the hand. Yet, whenever the child spoke, the man ignored him, his eyes locked intently on Shu Miaoyan.

Ouyang Zhuo's instincts screamed trouble; no parent would ignore their own child.

Moreover, the man’s face was devoid of emotion, his gaze gloomy and brows furrowed. Only those with two cases under their belt could have such eyes.