Chapter 732: with translation of chapter title

At 4 a. m., on the interprovincial highway.

Liu Shu's black sedan lurched and sped along the bumpy, potholed old highway.

The headlights cut through the thick fog like two weary swords. He had been driving nonstop for two and a half hours, nerves taut, his palms slick with cold sweat as he gripped the wheel.

In the rearview mirror, distant headlights flickered faintly—he'd been tailed for twenty kilometers.

Not a police car!

It was two unlicensed off‑road vehicles, clinging to him like ghosts.

Li Zhenyang's men.

Liu Shu was all too familiar with this kind of pursuit.

Li Zhenyang wasn't using police power; he'd hired street thugs to stage a scene of 'suspect resisting arrest, accidental death'.

"Damn it!"

Liu Shu mashed the accelerator, and the old sedan groaned under the strain.

A fork lay ahead.

Left led to the neighboring province's capital, right to a mountain trail. The navigation had died, so Liu Shu chose right from memory—into the hills, where the rough terrain might shake off his pursuers.

But this road was worse than he'd imagined.

Cracks and potholes scarred the neglected cement surface, with steep cliffs on either side. The fog thickened, visibility dropping under fifty meters.

The headlights behind drew nearer.

Suddenly!

"Bang!"

The rear right tire blew!

Liu Shu jerked the wheel; the car skidded toward the roadside guardrail. In the nick of time he stomped the brakes, and the front bumper halted less than half a meter from the cliff edge.

Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

He got out to inspect—the tire hadn't blown out naturally; it had been slashed by a spike strip. Someone had laid a trap on the road!

The off‑road vehicles had caught up, their brakes screeching.

The doors flung open; four dark figures jumped out, each wielding a machete and a steel pipe.

Liu Shu hesitated not, turning and sprinting into the mountains.

Shouts and pounding footsteps came from behind, bullets whizzing over his head— they were armed!

He stumbled through the forest, branches lashing his face and drawing blood.

His old chest wound began to throb, his lungs feeling ready to burst.

He couldn't stop— stopping meant death.

He ran, not knowing how long, until the sounds of pursuit faded behind him.

Liu Shu leaned against a tree, gulping air, only then noticing his left arm grazed by a bullet, the sleeve stained red.

He tore off the shirttail for a makeshift bandage and kept walking deeper into the hills.

Dawn broke.

Liu Shu wandered the hills all day like a wild man, surviving on wild fruit and stream water. At night he holed up in a cave, hearing distant dog barks in the distance— his pursuers hadn't given up.

That evening, he finally made it out of the mountains and flagged down a freight‑hauling farm vehicle on a county road.

The driver was an honest middle‑aged farmer; seeing him covered in wounds, he didn't ask questions and let him aboard.

"Going to the provincial capital?" the driver asked.

"No, to Jingcheng." Liu Shu said hoarsely: "Sir, I'll pay you—just take me somewhere I can catch Along‑distance bus."

The driver sized him up: "Those wounds… should you see a doctor first?"

"I can't." Liu Shu shook his head: "Someone's hunting me."

The driver fell silent, then sighed: "My daughter works in Jingcheng; she keeps saying she's being bullied… If you can get to Jingcheng, could you check on her for me?"

Liu Shu blinked, then nodded: "All right."

The farm vehicle lurched forward in the twilight.

Along the way he switched vehicles three times, evaded two checkpoints, and finally managed to board a night‑long‑distance bus bound for Jingcheng.

He huddled in the back‑row corner, cap pulled low, like a true stray dog.

Third day, dawn.

The bus pulled into Jingcheng's long‑distance terminal.

Liu Shu stepped out with the crowd, stood in the noisy station square, and looked around blankly. Jingcheng's sky was a dull gray, the air filled with unfamiliar, icy chill.

He fished out his phone—dead.

He had less than five hundred cash on hand, dared not use his ID, and couldn't afford a hotel.

He had nowhere to turn.

He thought of someone.

Lin Dongfan.

The man who, in the Wu Zhou interrogation room, had given him a half‑smile and said, "Picking sides—that's a real skill."

Liu Shu dialed Peng Tianhua's number from a public phone booth—the only number he remembered that might reach Lin Dongfan.

The phone rang six times before being answered.

"Who's this?"

Peng Tianhua's voice came with caution.

"Peng Team leader, this is Liu Shu." Liu Shu's voice was hoarse, barely audible: "I need to see Lin Dongfan."

On the other end, silence stretched for three seconds.

"Where are you?"

"Jingcheng long-distance bus station."

"Stay where you are, don't move, don't talk to anyone."

Peng Tianhua hung up after saying that.

Half an hour later, a black business car pulled up silently in front of Liu Shu. The window rolled down, revealing Lao Ba's stern face.

"Get in."

Liu Shu opened the door and climbed in.

Besides Lao Ba, there were two unfamiliar-faced bodyguards in the car, their eyes sharp. No one spoke, and the car sped away from the station.

Forty minutes later, the business car drove into an inconspicuous standalone villa area in the western suburbs.

Security here is tight.

Each villa has its own courtyard and high walls.

The car stopped in the garage of a villa, and Lao Ba took Liu Shu up to the third floor via the internal elevator.

"Stay here for now."

Lao Ba opened the door to a bedroom: "Food and supplies are ready, the doctor will come right away to treat your wound. Remember, don't go out, don't open the window, don't use any electronic devices."

Liu Shu looked around the room—simple but comfortable, the windows are specially made bulletproof glass, so the inside can't be seen from outside.

"'Where is Mr. Lin?' he asked."

"'Master Fan is busy.' Lao Ba looked at him: 'First tend to your injuries; you'll see him when it's time.'"

Having said that, he left.

Liu Shu slumped onto the bed and let out Along sigh.

Finally… temporarily safe.

……

At two o'clock in the afternoon, a quiet teahouse in the heart of Jingcheng.

Lin Dongfan and Lin Zhenhua sat facing each other in a private room.

The tea fragrance lingered, the atmosphere solemn.

Lin Zhenhua wore a simple gray jacket, his hair neatly combed. He is the core strength of the second generation of the Lin Family; although his position cannot be openly stated, he holds great influence in certain areas.

"'What did Liu Shu bring?' Lin Zhenhua asked directly."

"'Evidence that Li Zhenyang's eldest daughter Li Shuqin committed murder, the recording of Zhao Qiang's failed assassination attempt, and the call logs of Fang Zhanhong participating in silencing.'"

Lin Dongfan pushed over an encrypted USB drive.

He added: 'More importantly, he knows the profit-transfer network in Wu Zhou over the past twenty years—who took money, which projects are problematic, and whose cases have been covered up.'

Lin Zhenhua took the USB drive and weighed it in his hand.

"'Li Zhenyang has laid all his cards on the table.' He said calmly: 'If Liu Shu runs, it's tantamount to telling everyone that the heavens of Wu Zhou are about to change.'"

"'Li Zhenyang now can't even protect himself.' Lin Dongfan said: 'His daughter died, his right-hand man defected, the silencing plan failed. He only has two options: either hold out to the end and wait for the higher-ups to investigate; or…'"

"Or turn himself in."

Lin Zhenhua echoed the words, his expression grave to the extreme, thinking that the ambitious Li Zhenyang would surely not turn himself in.

Lin Zhenhua slowly took a sip of tea.

He added: 'Dongfan, politics isn't simply a matter of right and wrong. Li Zhenyang holds a high office; his net involves too many people. If we sweep it all away, the shock would be too great, and some wouldn't agree.'

"'What do you mean?'"

Lin Dongfan was a bit puzzled, thinking, 'Having struck the tiger halfway, do I now have to take back the tiger-head axe?'

Just as Lin Dongfan was puzzled and unable to understand,

Lin Zhenhua then gave a clear stance: 'The problem must be dealt with, but we need to deeply grasp the key points, standardize procedure execution, build a risk firewall, and ensure the problem does not rebound.'

"'Understood.'"

Lin Dongfan had long grown used to this kind of 'nonsense'; summing it up, it meant one thing: people must be caught! But we must not leave hidden dangers—we must settle it in one fell swoop!