Chapter 209: False Benevolence and Empty Promises Release the Young Tiger

Outside the warehouse, the engine sounds of several black cars approached from afar. The heavy iron door was pushed open, and Lin Yu, escorted by Feng An and a team of elite guards, walked slowly into the warehouse.

He wore a well-tailored long robe, his steps calm and unhurried, a faint smile playing on his lips. His appearance instantly froze the air in the warehouse; everyone's eyes were drawn to him involuntarily. The aura he exuded with every gesture reminded one of a dragon coiled in the abyss.

Lin Yu showed no urgency, as if he were not here to collect a huge ransom but to inspect his own property. His gaze was calm and unmoving as he scanned the piles of boxes, revealing no greed or excitement, only a lofty indifference.

He lightly waved his hand, and immediately a dozen or so men in long gowns and horse jackets, resembling silver-shop proprietors, stepped forward. Carrying balances, touchstones, silver hammers and other assay tools, they began testing with practiced ease. Two high-powered gasoline lamps were set up, their bright light instantly dispelling the warehouse's gloom.

The inventory proceeded in an orderly manner. The shopkeepers gently scraped the silver dollars with touchstones, listening to the sound and judging the color; they opened the gold ingot boxes, weighed them on balances, and carefully examined each ingot's purity and weight. All data were promptly recorded in the ledger. These men were clearly veterans, their assay techniques flawless and meticulous.

Lin Yu stood with his hands behind his back on a slightly higher spot. He only occasionally glanced at the progress of the counting; most of the time his gaze, lost in thought, drifted toward the depths of the warehouse, as if pondering something. Sometimes his eyes fell on Wang Zhenwu and others in the corner; that calm gaze itself was a silent intimidation.

Wang Zhenwu felt his back soaked in cold sweat. The more composed Lin Yu appeared, the more uneasy Wang's heart grew. What scheme is this man hatching? Why does he seem so indifferent to this huge sum?

Finally, the inventory neared its end. The assay shopkeepers handed Feng An a detailed list; after checking it carefully, he quickly walked to Lin Yu's side and reported in a low voice.

Lin Yu gave a slight nod, his smile unchanged. He turned, his gaze falling on Wang Zhenwu, and stepped toward him. Each of his steps was light, yet it felt as if he were stepping on Wang Zhenwu's heart, making it hard to breathe.

The atmosphere in the warehouse instantly tightened to its limit. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the man who controlled everything to speak.

Lin Yu stopped before Wang Zhenwu, his face bearing a gentle, even friendly smile.

He slowly extended his right hand, that clean, slender hand hanging in midair, posture natural.

"Battalion Commander Wang, you've worked hard."

His voice was calm and warm, carrying the elegance of a young nobleman, a stark contrast to the "Lin Madman" who had randomly killed and raised prices in the dungeon before.

This sudden change left everyone present stunned.

Wang Zhenwu's mind went blank. He stared blankly at the hand before him, then at Lin Yu's youthful, smiling face, and for a moment felt dazed.

Is this an illusion? Or some more terrifying trick? The corpse and bloodstains of Zhang Ming in the dungeon are still vivid before our eyes—that cold, ruthless Lin Yu is the real one, isn't he?

Seeing Wang Zhenwu's lack of reaction, Lin Yu felt no embarrassment and naturally withdrew his hand.

He took out an exquisite silver cigarette case from his robe pocket, opened it, and offered it to Wang Zhenwu.

"Care for a smoke?"

Wang Zhenwu still didn't move. Lin Yu didn't mind, taking a cigarette for himself and placing it between his lips. Feng An immediately stepped forward and respectfully lit it for him.

"Governor Sun was right to say," Lin Yu inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled the smoke, ""A person without credibility cannot stand.""

The smoke swirled in the warehouse's dim light, adding an air of inscrutable mystery. He continued: "Since the Sun family observes propriety so strictly and has delivered sufficient sincerity on time, I, Lin Yu, will naturally not go back on my word."

Wang Zhenwu's heart gave a sudden jolt. What does this mean? Could it be......

"Your young master, I have already sent people to bring him." Lin Yu's voice remained calm, as if discussing a trivial matter: "Take him away from Shen City. This is not where he belongs."

Wang Zhenwu felt a wave of dizziness, looking at Lin Yu in disbelief. He wondered if he had misheard, or if this was yet another cruel trick of Lin Yu's. But Lin Yu's smile remained gentle, his gaze calm, revealing no mockery or threat.

The atmosphere in the warehouse suddenly turned eerie. Lin Yu's subordinates exchanged glances, clearly not expecting such a turn. Even the usually steady Feng An showed a flicker of surprise on his face.

Wang Zhenwu's throat went dry; he wanted to speak but could not utter a sound. Having endured countless life-and-death trials, he now felt for the first time utterly confused and at a loss.

The warehouse side door was pushed open, emitting a dull thud. Two soldiers escorted a person inside; in the lamplight, his figure appeared especially frail.

It was Sun Lingyun. He wore a newly tailored, proper dark suit, his hair neatly combed, and the wounds on his face and hands had been carefully treated and bandaged.

This attire should have restored the bearing of one of the Jiangnan Four Young Masters, but now he resembled a carefully dressed empty shell.

His complexion was pallid to the point of near transparency, and the eyes that once shone with spirit were now hollow and lifeless.

His steps were unsteady, relying entirely on the soldiers on either side to support him; barely able to move forward. In this state, where is there even a trace of his former vigorous spirit?

Suddenly, Sun Lingyun's gaze fell on Lin Yu not far away. His body jerked violently, like a frog stared down by a poisonous snake, and he froze instantly in place.

His breathing grew rapid, his chest heaving violently; he instinctively wanted to retreat, but the soldiers behind him held him fast.

Lin Yu still wore that gentle smile as he walked slowly up to Sun Lingyun. He raised his hand, as if intending to pat Sun Lingyun's shoulder reassuringly.

This seemingly friendly gesture, however, struck like a heavy hammer, shattering Sun Lingyun's last line of defense.

His whole body shook violently, his teeth chattering uncontrollably, his legs going weak; had the soldiers on either side not been holding him up, he would have collapsed to the ground.

Lin Yu's smile deepened. He took a cigarette from the case and personally slipped it into Sun Lingyun's slightly open mouth, which could emit no sound.

Feng An stepped forward to light the cigarette for the young master; amid the swirling smoke, Sun Lingyun inhaled mechanically like a machine, yet the fear in his eyes became all the more evident.

Watching this scene, Wang Zhenwu felt his heart torn apart. This young master, whom he had guarded since childhood, this once vigorous and unbeatable heir of the Sun family, had now been tortured into the state of a startled bird.

His fists clenched tightly, nails digging deep into his palms, yet he felt no pain.

Finally, unable to bear watching any longer, he turned his head aside. Yet his ears still caught Sun Lingyun's ragged breaths, reminding him of this cruel reality. This brief half-month of imprisonment had not only destroyed the young master's body, but also his spirit. And as his guard, he could do nothing.