Deadly Trap.

Chapter 53. Gu Garden
The night-sky blue sedan glided along the winding mountain road.

It was the dead of winter, and the ancient pines and cypresses exuded a chilling aura, making Minxiu Mountain appear desolate. Sunlight lazily poured down through the branches, leaving repeated, blurry patches of light on the paper, which finally made Gu Mufei look up from his book.

He rarely had even a moment of free time, and even that was while he was in a moving car. Now, it was interrupted by flashes of memories.

He was somewhat tired. On the central leather armrest, Gu Mufei reluctantly put down the book by Qian Mu, the page stopping at "like a precious vessel thrown into the mud".

He rubbed his temples: "Welsh, how far?"

“Ten minutes left, Boss.” Smoothly, Welsh steered the car smoothly through the hairpin bend from the driver’s seat. “It should be in the valley ahead.”

The car had been circling this winding mountain road for over half an hour. The excessive tranquility of the outskirts of Minzhou made Gu Mufeng's thoughts increasingly turbulent:
Power, intrigue, backstabbing; he spent ten years internalizing these elements. Yet, in the mountains and fields, they seemed distant, absurd, even laughable.

Only death lingers, always present.

At the New Year's Eve dinner, he was openly poisoned and murdered. This made him acutely aware of the heightened vigilance of everyone around him, as if he had suddenly contracted a deadly plague: he had to carefully conceal his whereabouts.

This left him feeling extremely exhausted.

The light and shadow flickered. Gu Mufei touched his brow, gazing absently out the window. Su Li's gentle, shimmering image flashed into his mind. Lately, he thought of her almost constantly. It seemed she had become his habitual escape and solace.

In his heart, like a poison that had been stirred up, a bitter feeling that he could not bear to part with gradually arose.

“Welsh,” he said, almost rudely, banishing his emotions, “Any news from X?”

X is the squad leader in Fri-Night, specifically responsible for collecting and processing intelligence. Gu Mufeng has a good eye for talent: when it comes to tracking, surveillance, and reconnaissance, no one in Minzhou, whether underworld or legitimate, can surpass X.

Welsh was taken aback: The boss hadn't asked about that investigation since last year. Why is it suddenly happening again?
"Boss, are you sure?"

"Welsh." Afraid that he might hesitate any longer, Gu Mufeng lowered his eyebrows and urged him.

Welsh immediately replied, "Yes, Boss. I received X's report at noon. Because you were at lunch, I didn't report it immediately."

"X said?"

"X reports that the target stays at home very little, except for the regular shopping on Tuesdays; in the past two months, he has only been to the hospital once."

Frowning in suspicion, Gu Mufeng asked, "Once? What did she go there for?"

"X checked: the target had scheduled surgery, chemotherapy, and targeted therapy, costing 120,000 yuan upfront, and 40,000 yuan per month thereafter. But the target has not sought medical treatment again, nor has he gone to a pharmacy."

“In addition, X also reported that since last December, the time for target deposits and withdrawals has suddenly been changed to the beginning of the month; before that, it was always at the end of the month.”

Gu Mufei remained silent.

At the beginning of the month?

Although he handles a large amount of money every day, he always keeps track of every single transaction. Most businesses settle accounts in the middle or end of the month, but he has a long-standing personal habit of doing the accounting at the beginning of the month and making advance payments on all funds.

This payment, of course, also includes...

His gaze returned to the window, and a hazy tenderness once more enveloped his heart. He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before softly instructing:
"Have X keep an eye on things. Also, make sure he gets his hands on this woman's bank statements."

"Yes, Boss."

As they spoke, the car slowed down and turned right, entering a tree-lined road.

Along the driveway, the woods suddenly became more pristine and dense than the roadside path on the hillside. The winding path led to a secluded spot, and even the car headlights turned on automatically.

The car hadn't gone far when the wrought iron gate slowly opened, revealing the winding road paved with bluestone.

The road winds its way down the valley floor, with a babbling brook. They descend for another seven or eight minutes. The stone path rises abruptly, parting ways with the stream and climbing another ridge. Suddenly, the primeval forest opens up before them. At the mountaintop, celestial palaces gradually rise into view.

The trees are like clouds. The white-faced, gray-tiled gable walls undulate with the mountainside, stretching endlessly into the distance. The roundabout has enough space for a dozen or so cars to park in sequence. Outside the road, eight towering ginkgo trees appear to be naturally encircling each other, their trunks each about the size of two people's arms.

Unfortunately, it wasn't ginkgo season. The ground was covered in fallen petals, carpeting the seven-tiered white marble steps leading to the driveway. Above, the gray brick gatehouse with its upturned eaves exuded an antique charm.

Beneath the gate tower, two rows of snow-white Taihu stones, each as tall as a person, flank the entrance; the door panels open in two sections. Originally, each door knocker had a palm-sized circular family crest embedded in it.
The ginkgo leaves are pure gold, with three leaves on a single branch, hanging alone.

Looking up again, the inscription on the gate tower reads "Gu Garden" in large, small seal script, written from right to left. The brushwork is extraordinary, reminiscent of a master from bygone days.

Gu Mufeng's industrially manufactured, German-imported matte night sky blue Panamera Turbo S executive sedan quietly came to a stop beneath the ancient and elegant gate tower.

A middle-aged man dressed in a blue cloth robe and black cloth shoes, typical of the 21st century, was already bowing at the foot of the steps. He then stepped forward respectfully, clasped his hands in a gesture of respect, and opened the rear right door of the car.

The middle-aged man was half-invited and half-accepted, while Gu Mufeng and Welsh walked in.

Welsh glanced at the horizontal plaque bearing the inscription "Gu Garden" and felt a slight chill run down his spine, as if he were being subdued by the imposing presence of those two characters. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the two door panels, though unassuming, were actually two single pieces of clear varnished golden nanmu wood.

Beyond the gate tower, a different scene unfolded: turning past the white jade brick carving of nine cranes soaring through the clouds, and passing through the hanging flower gate, they traversed mountains and ridges along the painted corridors. Gu Mufeng and Welsh, both dressed in pure black suits, seemed out of place amidst the vivid landscape painting.

Turning past the artificial hill and descending the steps, the long corridor extends out of the water, transforming into a water corridor, and the three of them followed along, meandering along the water.

A cascading lake, where sky and water blend seamlessly; a gentle breeze ripples the surface, offering a breathtaking panorama. A small, elegant pavilion floats in the center of the water, entirely in a contemporary style: glass panes cling to the azure surface; outside the glass, bamboo curtains sway lightly in the breeze.

On the waterside pavilion, another plaque bears an inscription, this time written in cursive script by a different calligrapher. The script is so vibrant and captivating, clearly the work of a master calligrapher of unparalleled talent, and reads:

"Qinfang Pavilion".

The middle-aged man in the long gown remained silent, bowed, and stepped aside to let the guests enter the waterside pavilion first.

The pavilion is exquisitely designed, offering panoramic views of the lake and mountains. To the right, a carved moon gate made of small-leaf sandalwood separates the space into a softly lit tea room. Inside, the Ming dynasty huanghuali furniture is simple yet elegant, a stark contrast to the Ming-style "throne" in Su Yan's living room.

"The old master will be here shortly. Please make yourself at home." With that, the middle-aged man bowed and backed away.

Gu Mufeng remained silent.

By the window of the tea room, facing each other, sat rose chairs with ice-crack patterns. Gu Mufeng didn't pick and choose, casually leaning back and sitting down, his black leather shoes bracing against the legs of the antique table.

Separated by a window, the lake reflected Gu Mufeng's unusually cold face. The sound of water whispered around him. He turned his head, his eyes beneath his spiky hair staring intently at the lake, waiting silently.

Silently standing guard to the side, Welsh could easily tell that his boss was unusually cold and uncomfortable.

Just then, the door to the waterside pavilion opened again. Driven by the dual instincts of an assassin and a bodyguard, Welsh's eyes darted around with lightning speed: before him stood a thin, withered old man with white hair, completely inconspicuous in the crowd.

The four major conglomerates of Yi, Sheng, Gu, and Zhou. Welsh couldn't help but feel a sense of disdain for the Gu family, a leader in the arts and media industry.

Is this old man Gu Zhipei?

>>>>>
Next chapter: Timely Rain

[Author's Note | Chapter 53]

Upon entering Gu Garden, Welsh dismissed Gu Zhipei's ordinariness, while Gu Mufeng treated her as if facing a formidable enemy. What did this garden mean to Gu Mufeng? And who was the person Gu Mufeng urged to investigate?
Tell the author in the comments section: Do you like Gu Garden? What are your ideal images of the four major wealthy families?

In the next chapter, the history and conspiracies of the Gu family will finally be revealed.

As Gu Mufeng's heart shatters, what fates are intertwined with all of this, with the "big shot," and even Su Li...?
Add to your favorites, follow updates, and vote—let the plot move as fast as the author's updates!


(End of this chapter)