After ninety-nine online romances, I finally met my ex in person when school started.

The Land Rover Range Rover sped along the winding mountain road.

The engine roared furiously. Rain pounded against the windshield, the wipers whirring back and forth, swaying like his thoughts.

Zhu Xun Chuan gripped the steering wheel with one hand and floored the accelerator.

The speedometer needle is approaching 180.

The darkness ahead swallowed the beams of the car headlights.

A cold wind blew in through the half-lowered car window and hit his face.

The fury gradually cooled in the cold autumn rain.

Zhu Xunchuan slammed on the brakes.

The tires left long ruts on the flooded road, and the Land Rover suddenly stopped in the emergency lane of the ring road.

He placed his hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath.

The 70th birthday banquet was held at Building No. 3 of the Diaoyutai State Guesthouse.

Level A, Level 1 security. Armed police on the perimeter, special police inside, plus the Zhao family's own trained assassins.

Baihe has extremely strong counter-surveillance capabilities. The fact that she was able to evade the official net shows that she had long ago cut off all external tracking.

If you try to force your way into the state guesthouse now, you won't find her at all.

If they cause a disturbance at the banquet, not only will they fail to save anyone, but they will also disrupt their own plans and fall completely into the Zhao family's trap.

Going to stop a suicide soldier who is determined to die is the stupidest thing to do.

There is only one optimal solution.

She wanted to eliminate her target from this world beforehand.

With Zhao Tingzhi's downfall and the disappearance of the mission objective, the assassination plot with a 100% chance of survival naturally collapsed on its own.

Zhu Xun Chuan reached out and opened the glove compartment on the passenger side.

He took out the yellowed kraft paper file bag that he had brought from the municipal party committee compound.

When Fu Yuan handed it to him, he only said one sentence: "This thing can bring down the Zhao family."

At the time, he thought it was just some negative information.

The reading light on the roof came on. The dim, warm light shone on his cold, handsome profile.

Zhu Xun Chuan bypassed the sealing tape and pulled out the documents inside.

At the top was an old photograph from thirty years ago, followed by a thick stack of internal briefings, financial statements, and photocopies of confessions, all stamped with a top-secret red seal.

After reading only two pages, Zhu Xunchuan's expression changed.

Thirty-two people died during the forced demolition of old buildings in Jiangnan Road.

They were covering up illegal biopharmaceutical companies, conducting HT experiments, and reselling QG, which involved laundering money overseas.

Guangying Media illegally raised funds, drove its artists to their deaths, and opened underground casinos.

The list of powerful figures from various ministries involved is three pages long.

This is not some single piece of evidence.

This is a web woven over thirty years. The deadly evidence against sixty-three core members across three generations of the Zhao family is all clearly listed.

The flow of funds, witness testimonies, and physical evidence formed a seamless closed loop.

Zhu Xun Chuan stopped flipping through the documents.

He leaned back in the leather seat.

How could a municipal party committee leader of Fu Yuan's caliber possibly entrust such a core secret to a mere young upstart?

Some of those names are ones that even Fu Yuan can't touch.

Unless, this is not Fu Yuan's idea alone.

This is a consensus reached by several top factions in Beijing.

The Zhao family is a deeply rooted and entrenched power, sucking the blood of too many people. The higher-ups have long wanted to remove this cancer, but they lack a suitable reason and a ruthless blade to draw blood.

Zhu Xun Chuan had just entered Beijing, had a clean background, was ruthless, and was entangled in the karma of several women from the Jiang, Meng, and Fu families.

There is no one more suitable to be the "sword wielder" than him, or in other words, the "chess piece."

They wanted to use him to ignite this powder keg.

If he were to release these things today, the entire city of Beijing would be shaken to its core.

Zhu Xun Chuan let out a cold laugh.

Using someone else to do the dirty work?

He stuffed the documents back into the brown paper bag.

As long as he can kill Zhao Tingzhi in his coffin and protect that crazy girl who might be carrying his bloodline, he's determined to take the blame.

He not only wants to be the knife, but he also wants to smash the entire chessboard to pieces.

Zhu Xunchuan shifted gears and jerked the steering wheel.

The Range Rover made a U-turn on the ring road in the rainy night, its engine roaring, and headed straight for the core area of ​​the CBD.

During the journey, he connected to the car's Bluetooth system.

He dialed Xia Wanying's private number.

The phone was answered after only one ring.

"Xun Chuan?" Xia Wanying's voice was visibly tired. "I'm still at the company headquarters."

"Wan Ying," Zhu Xun Chuan interrupted her directly, "Use all of Dinghe Group's media resources in Beijing, including those overseas news websites in which you have a stake. I'll send you three scanned copies of the documents. Get them published across the entire internet in half an hour."

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"You've found the Zhao family's Achilles' heel?" Xia Wanying's tone suddenly rose.

"It's not just a fatal weakness," Zhu Xun Chuan said coldly, "it's a death warrant. Can you handle it?"

"Twenty minutes." Xia Wanying, the richest woman in China, exuded her full power. "I've personally ordered the risk control interception to be lifted. But you need to be prepared; this will be a desperate, last-ditch counterattack from the Zhao family. Where are you? I'll bring my bodyguards to find you."

"Come to the large-scale apartment in the China World Trade Center." Zhu Xunchuan announced the exit number.

Cut off the call.

Then, he dialed Jiang Yao's number.

"Yao Yao".

"Brother!" Jiang Yao's voice was chaotic in the background, even carrying the sound of metal breaking. "That old man locked me in the main hall. Wait for me, I'm going to saw through the security bars right now!"

"Stop." Zhu Xun Chuan's voice was calm. "We're not going to Diaoyutai. I'll send you a location now; come find me on the top floor of the China World Trade Center."

Jiang Yao was stunned: "Aren't you going to rescue that female assassin?"

"I'll try a different approach to save them." Zhu Xun Chuan stepped on the gas. "Immediately activate all of the Jiang family's underground channels in Beijing and release the recordings of Zhao Taizi of Guangying Media's gambling debts and forced sales. The deeper into the circles, the better. Before dawn, I want the whole city of Beijing talking about the Zhao family."

"Got it!" Jiang Yao immediately perked up. "Leave it to me, I guarantee it'll be handled flawlessly! I'll take people over right away!"

hang up the phone.

Zhu Xun Chuan looked at the blurry rain ahead and slammed on the gas pedal.

A massive, overwhelming media campaign slowly unfolded over Beijing in the early hours of the morning.

Half an hour later.

The Land Rover Range Rover drove into the underground parking garage of the China World Trade Center.

Zhu Xun Chuan picked up the brown paper bag and pushed open the car door.

Zhao Tingzhi's birthday banquet began at 10:00 AM.

It's 5 a.m.

This generous gift was enough to make him unable to eat a single bite of longevity noodles at the banquet.

Bai He, you better live well. Once the Zhao family falls, let's see who you'll assassinate next.

Zhu Xunchuan walked to the private VIP elevator.

Fingerprint recognition.

The metal door opened smoothly.

He looked at himself in the mirror inside the sedan chair.

The black silk shirt had its collar open and the hem slightly disheveled.

A deep red lip print was clearly imprinted on her collarbone.

There were also several obvious nail scratches on the side of the neck.

Although most of the scent of the high-level muscle-softening powder on his body had dissipated, it was still pungent, mixed with the faint fragrance of sweat and black datura.

I spent three hours in the Xishan air-raid shelter.

They experienced an extreme and passionate encounter between life and death.

Now, looking like this, it's practically like bringing home blatant evidence.

If it were an ordinary man, he would definitely try every means to clean it up.

Zhu Xunchuan did not.

He didn't even bother to pull up his collar before walking straight into the elevator and pressing the button for the top floor.

Since these women have chosen to follow him, they must get used to his rules.

He wouldn't bother to hide anything.

The elevator ascended rapidly.

"bite."

Arrive at the top floor of the China World Trade Center's large flat.

The elevator doors slid open slowly to both sides.

The 600-square-meter space was brightly lit.

The three women who were sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking tea stood up at the same time.

However, the elevator doors opened completely the next second.

A strong smell of gunpowder wafted over.

Because in the living room, besides Gu Qinghan, Shen Tianxi, and Meng Wanqing, there were others.

Xia Wanying and Jiang Yao, who had just arrived, were also standing there.

Five women with top-tier backgrounds.

Counselor, military district heiress, vice principal, female tycoon, underworld heiress.

Thanks to two phone calls from Zhu Xunchuan, the historic meeting took place ahead of schedule at the entrance.

The air froze completely at that moment.

Five distinct yet equally exquisite and captivating fragrances collided dramatically in the entryway of the spacious apartment at five in the morning.

Gu Qinghan's cedar trees are aloof and cold.

Shen Tianxi's strawberry is sweet.

Meng Wanqing's roses are alluring.

Xia Wanying's wooden luxury.

Jiang Yao's leather wildness.

Gu Qinghan pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses, and his cold gaze immediately locked onto Zhu Xunchuan's open collar.

That deep red lipstick mark stung her nerves.

Shen Tianxi stared wide-eyed at the scratches on Zhu Xunchuan's neck, her fists clenched instantly, and she strode forward.

Meng Wanqing paused slightly in her hand holding the wine glass, her narrow phoenix eyes narrowed, and her gaze swept over the hem of his disheveled shirt.

Xia Wanying had just put down her work tablet when she saw this scene. A cold smile appeared on her lips, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Jiang Yao, carrying a butterfly knife, strode across the living room, her leather boots making a heavy thud on the floor.

"Didn't you go to rescue people?" Gu Qinghan's voice was cold, breaking the deathly silence.

Shen Tianxi's eyes were red-rimmed as she pointed at Zhu Xunchuan's collarbone, gritting her teeth: "Did you go to kill someone, or did you go to bed?!"

Jiang Yao plunged a knife into the solid wood shoe cabinet in the entryway, the blade buzzing loudly.

Xia Wanying approached in her high heels, her tone mocking: "It seems the Zhao family's scheme is far less interesting than the underground air-raid shelter."

Meng Wanqing stood at the back, slowly taking a sip of red wine, her eyes sparkling.

Five sharp gazes, like five knives, were fixed on Zhu Xunchuan.

An extreme battleground is about to erupt.

Zhu Xunchuan stood in the elevator.

He casually tossed the heavy brown paper bag onto the nearby shelf.

There was no retreat.

There was no explanation.

He strode out of the elevator and walked directly into the elevator, meeting the gazes of the five women.