Chapter 375: Thunderclap: The Shopkeeper

The heavy, muffled slam of the junkyard's gate closing seemed to shut the curtain on an entire era.

Behind the pile of scrap, Li Ping'an stood motionless.

The night wind slipped through the cracks between bricks and tiles, bearing a bone‑piercing chill.

Yet the fine layer of cold sweat on his back felt hot.

After the panic, an almost explosive calm settled.

Divine Perception!

His Divine Perception, the instant the black sedan drove away, clung to the vehicle like the toughest spider silk.

At this moment, the car was traveling smoothly and swiftly along the empty pre‑dawn street.

The distance had already stretched beyond two hundred meters.

An ordinary person would have been far out of reach.

But for Li Ping'an's Divine Perception, nurtured for years within the Jade Pendant Space and now at Grandmaster level, the distance still lay at the edge of effective lock.

He could not lose it.

The cuff of that deep‑blue wool coat.

The cold, delicate metal cufflink.

And that faint… familiar feeling that made his soul shiver.

It must be confirmed!

He sprang from behind the scrap pile like a leopard that had lain in ambush for ages.

He did not take the street.

His body folded and he leapt directly onto the roof of a low, one‑story house beside him.

Tiles beneath his feet gave a faint creak, yet his movement was as light as a cat and astonishingly fast.

Carefree Step unfolded across the roof ridges, more inscrutable than on level ground.

In the moonlight, a faint gray silhouette streaked rapidly over the black outlines of rows of old houses, running parallel to the sedan's direction on the street below.

Divine Perception, like an invisible cable, firmly tethered the moving vehicle ahead.

Simultaneously, he split off a strand of mind, like the most precise radar, scanning the path ahead.

He pre‑judged every corner where sight might be lost, plotting the quickest rooftop route.

It was a silent pursuit beyond ordinary comprehension.

The pursuer relied on subtle Divine Perception and extraordinary movement.

The pursued sat inside that seemingly ordinary sedan, whose interior was likely treated against prying eyes, completely unaware.

The sedan did not head toward any direction Li Ping'an had anticipated.

It was not the City Bureau family compound.

It was not any known leader's residential district.

It did not even enter the inner city's core area.

It traveled smoothly for a stretch along the ring road at the edge of Four Nine City.

Then it turned onto a road leading to the western outskirts.

Western outskirts?

There are some agency sanatoriums, a few research institutes, and mostly vast farmlands and scattered villages.

Why would the Shopkeeper go there?

Li Ping'an's doubts deepened.

His speed on foot did not wane, leaping like a bird among the increasingly sparse rooftops.

Gradually, a vast, dark silhouette of fields emerged ahead.

Scattered lights, like will‑o‑the‑wisps, dotted the distance.

The rooftop route could no longer continue.

Li Ping'an landed lightly beside a dirt path between the fields.

Without any hesitation, he pushed Carefree Step to its limit, his form almost becoming a ground‑hugging streak as he surged along the roadside drainage ditch, continuing the frantic chase.

Divine Perception sensed that the sedan's speed was modest, seemingly unhurried.

That gave him a chance to catch up.

The damp earth, the rustle of wild grass, the howl of the night wind—all were blocked from his perception.

All his spirit concentrated on that Divine Perception "line" and on the moving sedan ahead.

He pursued for about a quarter of an hour.

Ahead, a sizable complex of buildings appeared.

It was black and oppressive, resembling factories or warehouses.

There were walls, a gate, and the outline of a guard post at the entrance.

The sedan slowed and headed toward that gate.

Li Ping'an halted instantly, darting into a dense stand of poplar trees by the road.

His breathing was slightly rapid, but his gaze was as sharp as an eagle's.

Divine Perception registered that the sedan had stopped before the gate.

Someone emerged from the guard post, apparently checking something.

Then the gate opened slowly.

The sedan drove in.

The gate closed again.

Li Ping'an's Divine Perception, like invisible tentacles, tried to follow the sedan inside.

But it immediately sensed a vague obstruction.

It wasn't a specific shield against Divine Perception; rather, the interior of that complex seemed suffused with a special, chaotic energy field.

Like electromagnetic interference generated by many old, power‑unstable machines running simultaneously.

Or like the natural turbulence produced by massive piles of metal.

Divine Perception probed in, as if entering a fog full of ripples; clarity was greatly reduced and its range severely limited.

It could only barely sense that after the sedan entered, it drove another hundred‑plus meters and stopped in front of a relatively isolated two‑story building.

The occupants got out of the car.

Two people.

One, a back view wearing a dark‑blue wool coat and a hat.

He was the owner of that hand.

The other, looking like a driver or guard, was burly and followed behind.

The two hurried into the building.

Lights lit up inside.

But the exact floor, which room, and who was inside—Li Ping'an's Divine Perception, hampered by the interference, could no longer discern precisely.

Damn it!

Li Ping'an cursed inwardly.

This place had clearly been specially chosen, or it inherently possessed detection‑interfering properties.

The Shopkeeper was indeed ultra‑cautious.

Even the final handoff point was chosen here.

What now?

Force our way in?

Impossible. Aside from the unknown interior and defenses, merely startling the Shopkeeper and making him vanish again would nullify all prior effort.

Continue waiting on the perimeter?

Wait until dawn? Might the people inside leave through another exit?

Li Ping'an forced himself to stay calm.

He carefully observed the complex.

It covered a vast area, with high walls that seemed to have barbed wire on top.

The main gate had a guard post; what about the side gate?

He moved silently along the outer perimeter of the wall.

Divine Perception faced less interference outside the wall, allowing a rough sense of the interior layout.

Most of the area was an open yard piled with assorted scrap metal and machines, like a massive junkyard.

Only a few scattered structures.

That two‑story building stood toward the rear of the yard, relatively isolated.

Soon, he found a side gate.

Equally shut, but without a guard post.

Next to the side gate, the wall bore a tiny crack caused by foundation settlement—small, yet sufficient for Li Ping'an.

He took a deep breath.

He condensed his surrounding aura to near nothingness.

His bones emitted an extremely faint crackle, and his whole form seemed to shrink a notch.

Then, like a boneless slime, he clung to the narrow crack and slipped in slowly, silently.

Inside the yard, the chaotic interference grew even stronger.

Divine Perception seemed mired, barely covering a radius of about twenty meters.

His vision was also heavily affected; even the moonlight appeared dimmer here.

Huge piles of twisted metal scrap littered the area, casting grotesque, twisted shadows in the darkness.

The air was thick with a strong smell of rust and machine oil.

Li Ping'an moved like a ghost, using the scrap piles as cover, inching toward the two‑story building.

His movements were much slower, but far more cautious.

Each step required confirming that nothing beneath would make a sound.

Every breath was light and drawn out.

He was still about fifty meters from the building.

He halted, hiding behind a huge, rusted boiler.

From this angle, he could see the building's main door and several second‑floor windows.

One of the upstairs windows had its curtains drawn, yet light leaked through.

A silhouette swayed behind the curtain.

It wasn't just one person.

At the doorway below, the burly "driver" stood like a gate deity, scanning the surroundings warily.

Li Ping'an held his breath.

He knew he had reached his limit.

Getting any closer would sharply raise the chance of being discovered.

Now, I can only wait.

Wait for the people inside to come out.

Wait for an opportunity to see the Shopkeeper's true face.

Time passed minute by minute, second by second.

Each second felt like being fried in an oil pan.

From deep within the factory grounds, from some unknown corner, came the shrill cry of a wild cat, breaking the deathly silence.

Li Ping'an's heartbeat was steady, as precise as the finest clock.

I didn't know how long had passed.

The door of the small building opened.

A person walked out.

It was the burly driver.

He stood at the doorway, looked left and right, then headed toward another direction of the factory grounds, seemingly to inspect the vehicles or something else.

Opportunity!

Li Ping'an's spirit lifted.

Almost at the same moment the driver left his field of view.

Inside the small building, the figure wearing a dark blue wool overcoat walked out.

He wasn't wearing a hat.

He just stood under the dim yellow light of the eaves at the doorway.

He seemed to be catching his breath, yet also as if waiting for something.

The light illuminated his side profile.

Li Ping'an's Divine Perception, like the most precise lens, instantly focused.

That face…

His salt-and-pepper hair was meticulously groomed.

There were obvious wrinkles at the corners of his forehead, but his skin was well maintained, exuding a healthy ruddiness of one accustomed to privilege.

A pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat on his nose bridge.

The eyes behind the lenses were slightly narrowed, gazing into the distant darkness; his look was deep, calm, carrying an air of long-held superiority and habitual scrutiny of everything.

The lines at the corners of his mouth were habitually turned down, appearing stern and… rigid.

Li Ping'an's pupils suddenly contracted to the size of a pinprick!

His whole body's blood seemed to freeze solid in that instant!

Breath halted!

Mind went blank!

It… was him?!

How could it be him?!

That figure who, on countless conference podiums, gave important directives.

That name which, when signed on a document, could decide the fates of countless people.

That figure who was revered by countless people, seen as a model and pillar…

No! Impossible!

I must have misseen!

Divine Perception won't be wrong!

That face, those glasses, that gaze, that bearing…

Even, when he slightly raised his left hand as if to check his watch, the cuff slipped down, revealing once again that cold, exquisite metal cufflink.

The cufflink's style was clearly visible in the light—an extremely simple yet ancient and imposing dragon pattern encircling.

This is… an ornament worn only by extremely few of specific rank and specific occasions!

All the clues, all the doubts, at this moment, as if struck by a lightning bolt, linked together into a ferocious and terrifying chain!

The Yongli Factory old case… Tan foreman missing… internal cover-up of the City Bureau… the Shopkeeper's caution and power…

Everything, everything, now had an answer.

An answer so chilling it could overturn heaven!

Li Ping'an bit hard on his own tongue tip.

The intense pain and bloody taste forced him, from extreme shock, to reclaim a sliver of rationality.

Cannot move!

Cannot make any sound!

Cannot even reveal the slightest emotional fluctuation!

The other party is the Shopkeeper!

He is a deeply hidden, terrifyingly powerful, ruthless veteran intelligence chief!

What's more terrifying is that his outward status is too high!

High enough to cause despair!

At this moment, even the slightest abnormality could invite catastrophe!

Li Ping'an pressed his body tightly against the cold, rusted boiler wall.

Slowly, slowly, he withdrew even the last trace of his outward Divine Perception.

As if he had never existed.

It seemed as if the heart‑pounding probing just now had never happened.

At the doorway of the small building.

The shopkeeper seemed to have noticed something.

He turned his head, his gaze like electricity, slowly sweeping over the direction where Li Ping'an was hiding.

In the darkness, only the silent outline of the scrap metal pile.

He looked for a few seconds.

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

But in the end, he said nothing.

At that moment, the burly driver returned, whispering a brief report.

The shopkeeper nodded.

Finally, he glanced once more at the deep night.

He turned and walked back to the small building.

The door was gently closed.

The light remained unchanged.

But Li Ping'an knew.

What he saw was no longer the light.

but a black hole capable of devouring all light, deep and bottomless.

He slowly moved away from behind the boiler.

His movements were stiff, as if every muscle no longer obeyed him.

Along the way he came, he retreated from this place at a speed ten times slower and more cautious than when he entered, step by step.

He climbed over the crack in the wall.

He stepped back into the outside fields.

A blast of icy night wind blew.

He suddenly shivered.

Only then did he realize his underwear was completely soaked with cold sweat.

It clung to his body, icy and piercing to the bone.

He turned his head, gazing at the dark cluster of buildings.

He looked toward the small building with its lights on.

He looked toward the true identity of the shopkeeper he had just confirmed.

A chill unlike any before surged from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.

It was thousands of times colder than this deep‑autumn night wind.

He knew.

What he had pierced was not a hornet's nest.

but a slumbering volcano.

Every step from now on will be like walking on thin ice.

The slightest misstep would shatter his body and bring eternal ruin.

He drew a deep breath of the icy air reeking of earth.

He forced his confused, panicked mind to gradually calm.

His gaze, from initial extreme shock and fear, gradually grew deep and cold, finally solidifying into an almost tangible resolve.

Shopkeeper…

No matter who you are.

No matter what dazzling guise you wear.

Since you have let me see your true face.

Then…

This game of chess is not yet finished.

He finally glanced at that point of light.

He turned around.

His figure merged into the night, thick and inseparable.

Like a droplet merging into the sea.

He vanished without a trace.

Only the wind blowing over the fields made a mournful sound.

It seemed to mourn, and yet seemed to foretell.

A truly all‑encompassing storm.

has only just begun to brew.