Chapter 823: Surviving in the Undercurrent

As he walked out of the Zhao Group building, Su Qingyu's steps were unsteady, his legs weak from collapse.

Although the breeze blowing over was clearly midsummer, he felt a bone‑chilling cold.

Zhao Tianyu's last words, "Get out," still echoed in his ears; each word was like an icepick, stabbing into his already tattered self‑esteem.

He did not drive away immediately.

Instead, he stood in the building's shadow, looking up at the brightly lit office on the top floor.

He imagined that in that spacious top‑floor office, Zhao Tianyu was probably still brewing tea, calculating how to join forces with Wang Qigang to drive Lin Dongfan out of Wuzhou.

Ridiculous!

Damn ridiculous!

Su Qingyu suddenly recalled many years ago, when he had just married Zhao Linlin.

Back then the Zhao family hadn't yet become so powerful; Zhao Tianyu patted his shoulder and said, "Qingyu, we're one family—from now on we'll share blessings."

But what about now?

In the Zhao family's eyes, he, Su Qingyu, was worth less than a dog.

"One family…"

Su Qingyu muttered to himself, pulling a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth.

His phone rang again.

This time it was his mother‑in‑law calling, her voice sharp: "Su Qingyu! Where have you died to?! Didn't we agree you'd pick me up at six?! What time is it now?! I've been waiting at the mahjong room door for half an hour!"

"Mom, I'll be right there." Su Qingyu's voice was dry and hoarse.

"Right away? I want to see you right now!"

His mother‑in‑law angrily hung up.

Su Qingyu took a deep breath, slipped into the car, and started the engine.

The car merged into the evening rush‑hour traffic.

Outside the window was Wuzhou's prosperous nightscape, neon flashing, a river of vehicles.

Yet none of this had anything to do with him, Su Qingyu; he felt like a puppet whose strings were held by the Zhao family, who could pull him however they wished.

When he picked up his mother‑in‑law, the old lady wore a frown and complained as soon as she got in: "You can't even handle a simple task! If it weren't for Linlin's sake, I'd have killed you!"

Su Qingyu drove in silence.

The old lady kept chattering, from her bad luck at cards to today's high vegetable prices, and then she mentioned how a fellow player's daughter had married into a wealthy family, receiving eight million eight hundred eighty‑eight thousand in betrothal gifts.

"Look at them…"

The old lady glanced at Su Qingyu: "Take a look at your pathetic self! If it weren't for our Zhao family, could you be driving an Audi? Living in a villa?!"

"!!!"

Su Qingyu remained silent the whole way, but anger burned inside him; his fingers on the steering wheel had turned white from gripping too hard.

Yet he endured it.

Over these many years, he had long learned to stay silent.

Half an hour later he arrived at the club; the large private room was already full of people.

Zhao Tianyu had arrived a step ahead of him and was chatting and laughing with a few close aides.

Zhao Linlin, dressed in gold and silver, her makeup exquisite tonight, sat beside her elder brother Zhao Tianyu.

Seeing Su Qingyu enter, Zhao Linlin frowned: "Why are you only just arriving?"

"Traffic jam on the way." Su Qingyu said softly.

"Couldn't you have left earlier to avoid the jam?" Zhao Linlin gave him a sideways glance: "Fine, sit over there." She meant the seat nearest the door, farthest from the main table.

Su Qingyu walked over silently and sat down.

The table was filled with cheerful laughter.

Zhao Tianyu was telling a risqué joke, making everyone burst out laughing.

As soon as Mrs. Zhao sat down, she chatted excitedly about today's card game; although she had lost money, her tone was full of boasting, as if being able to afford a loss were itself a status symbol.

Su Qingyu ate with his head down, the food tasteless.

He occasionally lifted his gaze, sweeping over Zhao Tianyu's arrogant face, then Zhao Linlin's snobbish visage, finally resting on the table full of mountain delicacies and seafood.

This table, plus the drinks, cost at least tens of thousands.

How many migrant workers' monthly wages would that cover?

How many rounds of chemotherapy could it pay for the mother of Xiao Yang, who today had almost self‑immolated?

Su Qingyu suddenly felt nauseous.

He put down his chopsticks, excused himself to the washroom, and walked out of the private room.

The hallway was quiet, carpeted thickly so that his steps made no sound. Su Qingyu walked to the window, looked down at the traffic, and lit a cigarette.

Amid the curling smoke, he recalled Lin Dongfan's words from that afternoon—"Look up at the road."

Where is the road?

If he kept following the Zhao family, ahead lay an abyss. Lin Dongfan held those materials in his hand; to move against him would be as easy as turning over one's hand.

If he turned toward Lin Dongfan…

Would Zhao Tianyu spare him? That subcontractor who vanished on that rainy night was a warning.

Caught between a rock and a hard place.

"Boss Su?"

Just as Su Qingyu hesitated, a voice suddenly came from behind.

Su Qingyu jumped, turned, and saw the club manager not far away, all smiles: "Boss Su, what are you doing here? Is the food not to your taste?"

"No, just coming out for some fresh air." Su Qingyu stubbed out the cigarette.

Manager walked a few steps closer, lowered his voice: "General Manager Su, there's something…… I don't know whether I should tell you."

"What's the matter?"

"Just before you came, General Manager spoke on the phone with Li Bin from the Municipal Party Committee Office." Manager's voice lowered further: "I happened to be delivering wine inside, I overheard a few sentences, it sounded like they were saying to add fuel to the fire."

Su Qingyu's heart tightened: "What does that mean?"

"I didn't catch the specifics." Manager looked left and right: "But General Manager said one thing—since we're going to cause trouble, let's make it big, see how Lin Dongfan will wrap up."

Hearing that, Su Qingyu broke out in a cold sweat on his back.

He understood.

Zhao Tianyu is playing with fire!

Using the livelihood of over eight thousand migrant workers, they're forcing Lin Dongfan to toe the line! If they cause another death, under public opinion pressure, Lin Dongfan will have no choice but to yield.

But this is playing with fire, self-immolation!

Once it gets out of control.

Not to mention Lin Dongfan, the entire Wuzhou will suffer as well!

"General Manager Su, these years haven't been easy for you..." Manager patted his shoulder: "I can't help you with anything, I can only pass along a message—take care."

Having said that, Manager turned and left.

Su Qingyu stood by the window, his hands trembling.

He cursed inwardly: "Zhao Tianyu has gone mad, this madman! To contend with Lin Dongfan, he even wants to treat human lives as grass!"

Su Qingyu pulled out his phone, found Lin Dongfan's phone number.

Facing this string of numbers that is both familiar and unfamiliar.

He hesitated again.

To call, or not to call?

If he calls, it's betraying the Zhao Family! Given Zhao Tianyu's character, he definitely won't let him off.

If he doesn't call, letting Zhao Tianyu blow things up, then he, Su Qingyu, will also be doomed, destined to spend the second half of his life in prison.

Su Qingyu's fingers hovered over the dial, trembling.

At that moment, footsteps suddenly came from the other end of the hallway, Zhao Linlin's voice rang out: "Su Qingyu! Did you fall into the toilet?! Everyone's waiting for you to drink!"

Su Qingyu hurriedly put away his phone, turned and squeezed out a smile: "Coming."