Chapter 220

Gunfire grew sparse, the smoke dissipated.

Black-clad corpses lay scattered across the street. Only two people still resisted, backs against each other behind cover, occasionally firing back.

"Surrender! You're surrounded!" an officer of the Sun family guard shouted sternly.

The two black-clad men exchanged a glance, a flash of resolve in their eyes. Suddenly they simultaneously broke out in opposite directions.

"Don't let them escape! Split up and pursue!"

The soldiers immediately split into two teams to pursue. The street echoed with hurried footsteps and sporadic gunfire.

One of the black-clad men was extraordinarily agile. Like a nimble cat, he threaded through the tangled alleys, sometimes scaling walls, sometimes slipping into narrow passages. At every corner he could precisely choose the most concealed route.

"He knows the terrain too well!" the pursuing soldiers gritted their teeth.

Finally, after a turn, the black-clad figure vanished into the dusk, leaving no trace.

Meanwhile, the pursuit on the other side ran into an accident.

The second black-clad man was chased into a dead-end alley. High walls closed in, leaving no retreat.

"Drop your weapon! Hands up!" a dozen rifles were aimed at him.

The black-clad man turned, facing the dark gun barrels, yet a strange smile curled his lips. His gaze swept over the soldiers before him, his eyes devoid of fear.

Bang!

A crisp gunshot echoed in the hutong.

The soldiers froze—the black-clad man had not chosen to resist or surrender; in a flash he pointed the gun at his own temple and pulled the trigger without hesitation!

Blood spattered, his body slumped softly to the ground, that strange smile still on his face.

"Quick! Search his body!" the officer snapped to and gave the order.

The soldiers carefully searched the corpse. They lifted the black-clad man's clothing, checked every pocket, looking for any clue that might reveal his identity.

But they found nothing.

This person was like a ghost—aside from a black suit and the gun in his hand, he left nothing behind. No documents, no letters, even the brand tags on his clothes had been meticulously cut away.

"Sir, look here..." a soldier crouched beside the corpse.

The officer leaned in and saw a thin callus on the dead man's fingertips, a trace from long-term gun use. On the inner side of his wrist was a faint scar, as if some mark had been deliberately rubbed away.

"These people..." the officer frowned, "well-trained, and..."

"And what?"

"And they would rather die than surrender, clearly the result of strict organization and training." the officer said in a low voice, "This is no ordinary assassin."

Luanzhou General Hospital Surgery Building.

The smell of disinfectant permeated the hallway. The operating room's red light remained on, already over four hours.

Wang Zhenwu was covered in blood, his face still bearing traces of gunpowder, pacing back and forth in the hallway. Each time he passed the operating room door he couldn't help stopping, staring at the tightly shut door, then continuing his restless walk.

Heavy footsteps came from the stairwell.

Sun Dingyuan strode in, wearing a meticulously tailored dark blue robe, his waist and back ramrod straight. But the face accustomed to strategizing was now shrouded in a cloud, his tightly pressed lips revealing inner unrest.

"Governor..." Wang Zhenwu's throat tightened.

Sun Dingyuan merely gave a slight nod, his eyes locked on the operating room door. He stood there motionless, like a statue. Only his hands, trembling slightly within his wide sleeves, betrayed a father's anxiety.

Finally, the operating room light went out.

The lead surgeon pushed the door open, removed his mask, wiped sweat from his forehead: "Governor, the surgery was very successful; the bullet has been removed."

Sun Dingyuan's shoulders relaxed imperceptibly.

"But..." the doctor continued, "the patient lost too much blood; his condition is still unstable and needs close observation. These 48 hours are critical."

"I understand." Sun Dingyuan said in a low voice, "Thank you for the trouble."

Soon, the unconscious Sun Lingyun was pushed into the ICU. His face was as pale as paper, his lips devoid of color; only the beeping of the machines attested that life continued.

Thump!

Wang Zhenwu suddenly dropped to his knees before Sun Dingyuan, voice choking: "Governor! It's all my inadequacy! I failed to protect the young master!" His fist slammed heavily on the ground, "It must be that bastard Lin Yu! He's still harboring evil intentions, sending people to hunt down the young master! I'll take my men back to Shen City to avenge the young master!"

Sun Dingyuan gazed at his comatose son on the bed, his eyes deep and complex. He fell silent for a moment, then spoke slowly: "Get up."

"Governor..."

"This matter wasn't done by Lin Yu." Sun Dingyuan's voice was unusually calm.

Wang Zhenwu blinked: "Not Lin Yu? But..."

"Lin Yu may be ruthless, but he follows his own logic." Sun Dingyuan's gaze remained on his son's pale face, "If he truly wanted to kill Lingyun, he had plenty of chances in Shen City; why wait until we returned to Luanzhou to act? Moreover, having just acquired money and property, he needs time to digest and guard against backlash from all sides. Sending assassins now, at this juncture, to stir up conflict would bring him no benefit."

His voice grew lower, yet each word carried force: "Behind this, there is another hidden hand."

Shen City West Suburb, a secluded estate.

The courtyard planted a few cherry trees, with artificial hills and flowing water, exuding an exotic atmosphere. Inside the main house, Xiaoli Daifu knelt on the tatami, delicately turning a refined sake cup in his hand.

Knock knock knock.

Come in.

A subordinate in kimono entered lightly, presenting a telegram with both hands.

Xiaoli Daifu took the telegram, his eyes swiftly scanning the dense text. The corner of his mouth gradually curled into a cold smile.

"Very good, very good." He murmured in the Oriental language, "Sun Lingyun is gravely wounded, near death; have the 'traces' at the scene been handled as planned?"

"Yes, your excellency." The subordinate replied respectfully, "Our people, while fleeing, deliberately left some clues that might point to Lin Yu. But not too obvious, so it wouldn't seem deliberately staged."

"Perfect." Xiaoli Daifu gently swirled the sake cup, "And the man who committed suicide?"

"Already disposed of cleanly according to plan. They found nothing that could prove his identity."

"The one who escaped?"

"He is our best agent, already safely withdrawn. He will reappear according to the original plan at the appropriate time, continuing to sow chaos."

Xiaoli Daifu nodded in satisfaction and drained the cup in one gulp.

"Lin Yu......" He narrowed his eyes, his voice filled with bone-deep hatred, "You think driving out our firm, killing our overseas compatriots, will expel the Eastern Ocean forces from Shen City?"

He stood up, walked to the landscape painting hanging on the wall. The painting showed a panoramic view of Shen City, with sails densely covering the harbor dock.

Sun Dingyuan, that Old Fox, must be suspecting that you did it." He muttered coldly, "Even if he now sees some clues, the seed of doubt has already been planted. Coupled with his son's dying hatred, sooner or later he will turn against you."

He poured himself another cup of wine.

Let you Da Qian People destroy each other! When you and the Sun Family suffer mutual defeat, that will be our Great Eastern Ocean Empire's opportunity! Shen City, no, the entire Longjiang region will fall into the empire's control!

Xiaoli Daifu raised his wine cup, gazing through the clear liquor at the night outside the window.

For the empire's holy war......

Cheers!

The liquid in the cup gleamed coldly in the moonlight, like the ambition flashing in his eyes.