Chapter 207: When the Golden Urn Cracks, Power Shifts

Wang Zhenwu staggered out of the dungeon, his legs weak and barely able to keep him upright. His complexion was as pale as paper, the red swollen marks from the two slaps and the blood at the corner of his mouth standing out starkly on his wan face. Instinctively he straightened his back, trying to maintain a soldier's bearing, but his hollow eyes betrayed the collapse inside him.

Returning from the dark, damp dungeon to the main building of Lin Gong Guan, the surroundings changed abruptly. The spacious corridor was adorned with expensive crystal chandeliers, the floor laid with marble that shone like a mirror. Sunlight slanted through the carved windows, scattering across the floor and casting mottled shadows on the dark‑red carpet.

Yet the lavish décor could not dispel the cold and despair in Wang Zhenwu's heart. Every few steps a fully armed guard stood watch, their vigilant and indifferent gazes like solid walls, constantly reminding him of his situation—this was Lin Yu's territory, and they were all caged beasts.

Humiliation, anger, fear, and helplessness churned within him. The Governor's orders still rang in his ears, the safety of the young master tugged at his heartstrings, and Zhang Ming's corpse still lingered in his mind. What frightened him most was Lin Yu's terrifying ability to perceive everything.

Even the most secret money‑hiding spots have been mapped out clearly—what does that imply? Every move they make in Shen City is likely already under Lin Yu's control!

An unprecedented sense of suffocation seized his heart. Yet to complete the mission and ensure the young master's safety, he had to force himself onward. Every step felt like walking on cotton—insubstantial yet heavy.

Finally arriving at the mansion's main gate, Feng An was already waiting there. He handed over two sheets of paper expressionlessly—one detailing the address and time for the industry transfer, the other a list of Sun Family personnel to contact.

"Commander Lin has ordered," Feng An's voice was as cold as ice, "first process the transfer documents for all the industries." He paused meaningfully, "As for the thirty‑million cash… once the paperwork is done, further instructions will follow naturally."

Wang Zhenwu took the two sheets and felt the seemingly light paper as heavy as a thousand pounds. Every character was like a knife, stabbing deep into his heart. Behind those cold words lay the ruin of the Sun Family's decades‑long foundation in Shen City, the uprooting of a massive clan's roots in the city.

And that was only the beginning.

Wang Zhenwu slipped through a few secluded alleys and arrived at an unremarkable grocery shop. It was a secret Sun Family contact point in Shen City; the storefront was plain, but the back courtyard concealed hidden machinations.

He pushed open the back door, and a stifling, oppressive air flooded the room.

Inside, several of the Sun Family's core administrators and resident confidants were already waiting. Their faces were anxious, eyes blood‑shot, clearly having been unable to eat or sleep these past days.

"Battalion Commander Wang!" several people rushed forward, "the young master…"

Wang Zhenwu raised a hand to halt their questioning. After scanning the room and ensuring the doors and windows were securely shut, he spoke in a deep voice, "The Governor has replied."

He paused, as if the next words would drain all his strength: "The thirty‑million ransom remains unchanged, but…" His fist clenched involuntarily, "Lin Yu wants all our industries in Shen City!"

The room instantly fell into a death‑like silence.

"What?!" Suddenly, Steward Zhou, who managed Bailemen, slammed the table, "This Lin Yu is outright extorting us! After years of building our business in Shen City, finally…"

"How could the Governor agree to such terms?" another steward interrupted, "Could he have been coerced…?"

"It's over, completely over…" In the corner, the eldest, Old Zhao, muttered, "All those years of hard work, just like that…"

Seeing the situation about to spiral out of control, Wang Zhenwu slammed the table, "Everyone, shut up!" He barked loudly, "The young master is still in their hands! Do you want something to happen to him?!"

He fished a telegram from his coat, "This is the Governor's order! Our immediate priority is to ensure the young master's safety! As for everything else…"

His voice suddenly deepened, carrying a chilling warning, "Lin Yu's influence is more terrifying than we imagined. He in Shen City…" He scanned the crowd, "has already infiltrated to a level that makes one's hair stand on end. The situation is far more critical than you think!"

The atmosphere in the room suddenly solidified. From Wang Zhenwu's tone, everyone sensed an unusual dread. This battalion commander, who had been forged in battle, now showed such profound apprehension in his eyes.

"Now, immediately prepare the transfer documents for all the industries," Wang Zhenwu forced his inner pain aside, saying word for word, "This is an order!"

The group exchanged glances, seeing the desperation in each other's eyes. Yet faced with Wang Zhenwu's hard stance and the harsh reality, they ultimately bowed their heads. One by one they left the courtyard to prepare the documents for the industries they each oversaw.

Wang Zhenwu sat alone at the table, staring at the list in his hand, his thoughts drifting to the abandoned warehouse in the eastern suburbs. That cache of cash… He clenched his fist, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Since Lin Yu already knew the location, they could not afford to wait another moment.

In the French Concession on Xiafei Road, within an elegant Western‑style building, Wang Zhenwu led several Sun Family stewards into a law firm run by the British. The spacious conference room overlooked a bustling street, the city's bustle unchanged, yet the interior was suffused with a suffocating oppression.

Feng An was already waiting there, flanked by several lawyers and appraisers in suits, as well as a few sharply dressed assistants whose murderous intent could not be hidden. Their gazes were like swords, tightly "guarding" Wang Zhenwu's party.

The long table quickly became piled with various documents: villa deeds within the French Concession, operating rights certificates for Bailemen, share transfer agreements for Tongda Trading, operating permits for Songjiang Dock… Stacks upon stacks of thick papers, representing the Sun Family's over ten years of effort in Shen City.

"Please review," Feng An pushed forward the first document, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Steward Zhou trembled as he took the document, his eyes instantly reddening. He had fought for the Sun Family's enterprises in Shen City for eight years, and now he had to hand them over personally. Every signature, every seal felt like cutting his own flesh.

Old Zhao's face was ashen, like a walking corpse, mechanically signing the documents. He had purchased those property deeds one by one, pouring his heart into each estate. Now, within a single morning, he was forced to dispatch them all.

The lawyers and appraisers sent by Lin Yu meticulously cross‑checked each document, carefully verifying the authenticity of every seal. Their professionalism and rigor only highlighted the absurdity and cruelty of this plunder.

Wang Zhenwu stood by the window, watching the bustling crowd outside. The ordinary citizens were unaware that, within this elegant conference room, a massive family's roots in Shen City were being uprooted. A few assistants stayed at his side, hands on the gun slings beneath their suits, ready to unleash thunderous suppression at any sign of movement.

At last, the final document was signed. Feng An carefully inspected all the paperwork, sorting them into a leather case. He nodded at Wang Zhenwu, a faint, knowing smile appearing on his face:

"Commander Lin's new directive: effective immediately, take your men to the eastern suburb warehouse and transfer the thirty‑million worth of cash and gold bars to Warehouse No. 18 in the western part of the city." He added with a pointed tone, "We will 'escort' you all the whole way. Those sealed trucks carrying the gold bars—don't let any accidents happen."

Wang Zhenwu's pupils contracted sharply. Lin Yu even knows about the sealed trucks! This isn't an escort; it's blatant surveillance! Yet he had no choice left and could only nod in agreement.