Chapter 20: The Hidden Corner

At the top floor of the Hengtai Group headquarters, the heavy mahogany doors of the president’s office remained tightly shut, sealing out the clamor of the city below. The air hung stagnant, heavy as lead, and the scent of expensive agarwood, usually a sign of luxury, now felt cloyingly sweet and suffocating.

Bai Shi stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, his back to the door. Outside, the city’s dazzling lights traced the contours of immense wealth, but to him, this splendor now looked like a vast, mocking grin. Secretary Zhao stood by the expansive desk, head bowed and breath held, not daring to make a sound. Cold sweat trickled down his temple, itching intensely, yet he lacked the courage to even raise a hand to wipe it away.

"The River-Suppressing Pagoda..." Bai Shi’s voice broke the deathly silence, low and grating like a dull blade on sandpaper, each word vibrating with suppressed fury. "How much heartblood have I poured into it? How much cold, hard cash? And now, just when it was about to..."

He spun around abruptly. His face, usually well-groomed and shrewdly refined, was now twisted with rage. The muscles beneath his skin twitched hideously, and his eyes were bloodshot, like those of a cornered beast on the verge of madness. "Yang Rui!" The name erupted from between his teeth, laced with deep-seated venom like a poisoned icicle. "Some nobody crawling out of a gutter! A charlatan playing with a compass! What is he? Who does he think he is?!"

He snatched up a priceless Song Dynasty celadon tea cup from his desk—a prized possession he had painstakingly hunted down and flaunted before guests countless times—and hurled it with all his might against the polished marble floor.

*CRASH!*

The sharp, piercing sound of shattering porcelain exploded in the confined space. Countless crystalline shards sprayed like hail, scattering across the room in a chaotic mess. Scalding tea splashed onto the expensive Persian rug, leaving dark brown stains. Secretary Zhao shuddered violently, his head sinking lower until it was almost buried against his chest.

"He ruined my life’s work! He ruined my scheme!" Bai Shi’s chest heaved, his heavy, ragged breathing sounding like a broken bellows. He stared fixedly at the pile of broken porcelain and tea, as if it were the destroyed evil formation of the River-Suppressing Pagoda. "He must pay! He must! I want to break him... break him into pieces just like this bowl! Find him! Now! Immediately!"

His roar echoed through the luxurious office, making the crystal chandelier hum. Beneath the overwhelming rage, there was a faint, imperceptible trace of panic and fear—the terror of a grand plan gone awry. If the things buried beneath that pagoda were ever exposed...

"Yes! Yes, President Bai! I’ll handle it immediately!" Secretary Zhao, feeling as if he had been granted a reprieve, scrambled out of the room, terrified that a second’s delay would see him consumed by his boss’s fury. The door clicked shut, sealing off the outside world and locking Bai Shi and the impending bloodbath within this gilded cage.

***

Under the same city lights, on the top floor of the municipal government building, the lights in the Mayor’s office burned as bright as day. The air was filled with the scent of document ink and disinfectant—solemn and cold.

Secretary Liu Wenhui placed a printed brief onto the massive mahogany desk, his voice soft yet perfectly clear. "Mayor, there’s been a situation at the Riverside Cultural Park. The area designated for the 'protective renovation' of the River-Suppressing Pagoda, managed by the Hengtai Foundation, was raided and sealed off by the police last night."

Mayor Jiang Shang'an was hunched over a thick planning draft, his pen never pausing, nor did he even lift his eyelids. He merely let out a faint, disdainful snort.

Liu Wenhui continued his report, his pace steady. "They discovered illegally installed large-scale infrasound and strong magnetic field generators, as well as... what is reported to be some kind of destructive geomantic layout intended to forcibly alter the earth's meridians. Several Hengtai security guards on-site have been detained. A geomancer named Yang Rui and a female professor surnamed Su appear to be the key figures who discovered and reported it."

At the mention of "geomantic layout," the hand holding Jiang Shang'an’s fountain pen finally faltered. He set the pen down, leaned back into his expansive leather chair, and rested his hands on his stomach, fingers interlaced. The light caught his face, carving out hard, cold lines, his eyes deep and chilling like a stagnant well.

"Incompetent. Unable to accomplish anything, yet capable of ruining everything." He spoke slowly, his voice low but sharp as ice pellets hitting a jade tray. "I told Bai Shi long ago: those who seek great success must have a grand vision. Geomancy is a vast and profound art; is it merely a tool for him to scrape up money? How shortsighted!" He shook his head slightly, his contempt undisguised. "This Yang Rui, where did he come from?"

"I’ve looked into it," Liu Wenhui replied immediately. "He's a civilian, no sect, no background. He mostly does odd jobs in the old town, reading feng shui and dispelling bad luck. He got involved this time through the Chen family's Jishan Hall and happened to collaborate with Professor Su, which is how they stumbled upon the pagoda."

"Hmph, a commoner..." A trace of a cold, indifferent smile touched the corner of Jiang Shang'an’s mouth, as if he were hearing the name of an ant. He picked up his pen again, his gaze returning to the documents, seemingly having lost interest in this minor subplot. But just as the nib was about to touch the paper, he stopped, looked up at Liu Wenhui, and his eyes suddenly became as sharp as a hawk’s.

"However," he pivoted, his voice dropping lower, imbued with unquestionable authority, "while the matter with Bai Shi isn't deeply entangled with the 'Grand Plan' we are currently pushing, we are all on the same board. In times of tension, a single spark can start a wildfire. Tell those involved to clean up their tails. As for the Riverside Cultural Park, let it end there. Our 'Centennial Plan' must not suffer any more setbacks! Do you understand?"

"Understood! Rest assured, Mayor!" Liu Wenhui’s heart jolted, and he responded with immediate, solemn compliance.

Jiang Shang'an said nothing more and lowered his head. The pen glided across the planning draft with a soft, rhythmic scratching sound. The office returned to the silence of turning pages and the friction of nib against paper, as if the conversation about geomancy, conspiracies, and a century-long plan had never occurred. Only the city’s eternal lights, shining through the window, illuminated the silent undercurrents of this small, powerful space.

***

The smell of hospital disinfectant seemed to cling stubbornly to his hair, refusing to fade. Yang Rui winced as he moved, his body stiff as a rusted robot. Every step pulled at the searing, dull ache in his back. The doctor tapped the X-ray, pointing at a small shadow, and warned him with a serious tone, "Severe soft tissue contusion, and here, look, a hairline fracture! You young people, don't take this lightly! You must rest when you go home! At least a month—no heavy lifting, no strenuous exercise, absolutely prohibited! Did you hear me?"

Yang Rui could only nod repeatedly, though he gave a bitter smile internally. Rest? Bai Shi of Hengtai was likely wishing he could make him "rest" permanently by the next second.