Courtyard House: First, kill the hypocrites, leave none alive.

Xie Wanying remained silent for a few seconds.

She picked up the teacup, took a sip, and found the tea had gone cold; it was astringent and bitter.

She swallowed slowly, looking at William.

"What about the Yankees?"

William leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.

"We didn't catch them. The shipment was bombed, and the people escaped. We only caught a few small fry, all dockworkers who knew nothing about it."

Xie Wanying tapped her knee lightly twice with her fingers.

The Northman—this man's reach was longer and his movements faster than she had imagined.

He blew up the goods and then pushed out an old man who knew nothing to take the blame.

She looked at William, her voice lowering slightly.

"Mr. William, this isn't your fault. The Yankees are just too cunning."

William looked at her, his eyes flashing with complex emotions—anger, resentment, and a hint of gratitude.

"Ms. Xie, you're right. This northerner is indeed not easy to deal with."

Xie Wanying leaned back on the sofa.

"Mr. William, there will be other opportunities in the future."

William nodded.

"Yes. There will be other opportunities. This Northerner won't get away."

Xie Wanying stood up, walked to the window, and turned her back to William.

"Mr. William, please go back and get some rest. I'll keep an eye on the Yankees. I'll let you know as soon as I have any news."

William also stood up and straightened his collar.

"Ms. Xie, I'll be going now."

He turned and strode toward the door.

The door opened and then closed.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away in the corridor.

Xie Wanying was the only one left in the room.

She stood by the window, looking out at the sea.

You Northbearer—you got away this time, but it won't be so easy next time.

-

Princess Jin, third-floor office.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blinds, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the floor.

The faint sounds of the bustling city outside the window could be heard, but after being separated by glass, only a muffled buzzing could be heard.

Chen Feng sat behind his desk, looking at the person in front of him. His eyes were deep and calm, like a bottomless pool of water.

Zhou Yongling stood in front of him, his legs trembling.

He was wearing an old suit and gold-rimmed glasses, and the smile on his face was long gone, replaced by a deathly pallor.

Sweat covered his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and dripping onto his collar, leaving a small, dark stain.

He opened his mouth, as if trying to say something, but couldn't utter a sound.

My throat felt like it was blocked by something, and I could only make muffled breathy sounds.

The skinny monkey stood at the door, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Zhou Yongling like a wolf eyeing its prey.

Iron Head leaned against the wall. He was a big, burly man with a face full of menacing features. His hands were tucked into his pockets, as if he could pull out a weapon at any moment.

The room was eerily quiet.

The only sounds were the ticking of the wall clock and the faint hustle and bustle of the distant streets outside the window.

The sounds came through the glass, indistinct and vague, like noises from another world.

Chen Feng spoke, his voice as calm as if he were chatting casually.

"Mr. Zhou, how should we calculate the losses this time?"

Zhou Yongling's legs became even weaker.

He managed to stand by holding onto the armrest of the sofa next to him.

His lips trembled, and his voice was so hoarse it sounded like it was about to break.

"Mr. Chen... I... I really didn't know..."

Chen Feng looked at him.

Do you think I believe that?

Zhou Yongling almost burst into tears.

He opened his mouth, wanting to argue, to explain, to say that it wasn't his fault, but Chen Feng's eyes were looking at him, and there was nothing in those eyes—no anger, no disgust, no pity.

It was that kind of empty look in his eyes that sent chills down his spine.

He knelt down with a thud.

His knees hit the floor with a dull thud.

He kept his head down, his forehead almost touching the ground, and his voice was trembling with sobs.

"Boss Chen, I... I just wanted to make money. I really just wanted to make money. I didn't know it would turn out like this... I didn't know the police would come... I didn't know..."

Chen Feng leaned back in his chair, looking at the person kneeling on the ground.

"I want to make money too. But what about this loss?"

Zhou Yongling raised his head, his face covered in a mixture of sweat and tears that streamed down his cheeks.

He looked at Chen Feng, at that expressionless face, and all his last shred of hope vanished.

"I...I..."

He stammered, unable to utter a complete sentence.

Chen Feng looked at him.

"What? You think you can afford to pay for it?"

Zhou Yongling knew he couldn't afford to pay the compensation.

The goods worth 1.9 million were all blown up, not even a trace was left.

Even if you sell him, you can't afford to lose the money.

He knelt on the ground, trembling all over.

Chen Feng stood up, walked to the window, turned his back to him, and looked at the street outside the window.

"Tell me, who's behind this?"

Zhou Yongling lay on the ground, trembling all over.

He thought of Ruan Xiong, of that scarred face, and of that army of more than two thousand.

If he tells the truth, Ruan Xiong will not let him off the hook.

But if he doesn't say it—

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Ruan Xiong".

The words he uttered were like two knives, cutting into his body, one after another.

He lay on the ground, not daring to raise his head or look at Chen Feng's face.

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Then Chen Feng's voice rang out, calm as if he were chatting casually.

"Ruan Xiong?"

Zhou Yongling lay on the ground, his voice muffled.

"Yes... Ruan Xiong. He sent me to find you. He also asked me to buy that batch of goods. He said he needed weapons for the war with Nai Mi. But he didn't want to do it himself, so he sent me..."

Chen Feng turned around and looked at him.

"Where are the police? Did you call them?"

Zhou Yongling shook his head, shaking his head desperately.

"No! No! This has nothing to do with the police! I really didn't know the police were coming!"

Chen Feng stared at him for a long time.

Zhou Yongling lay on the ground, trembling all over, like a mouse pinned under a cat's paw.

Chen Feng walked back to his desk and sat down again.

He looked at Zhou Yongling, his voice calm.

"Mr. Zhou, please get up."

Zhou Yongling raised his head, his face streaked with tears.

He slowly stood up, his legs still trembling.

Zhou Yongling turned around and staggered toward the door.

When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at Chen Feng.

"Boss Chen, you...you're not going to kill me?"

Chen Feng looked at him, his eyes still expressionless.

"Kill you? You're still useful."

Zhou Yongling's tears welled up again. He pushed open the door and strode out.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away in the corridor.

The door closed behind him. The skinny monkey walked over.

"Brother Da Gang, are you just going to let him go like that?"

Chen Feng didn't look up.

"What's wrong?"

The skinny monkey said, "He almost killed us. If it weren't for the gap-toothed ones running fast—"

Chen Feng looked up at him.

"He's useful."

The skinny monkey opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.

Chen Feng leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

Ruan Xiong, take your time.