Chapter 397: I

Lin Yang does a brief analysis, and his eyes instantly brighten, "You want to shift the Fire?"

"Otherwise?" Su Yang raises his brow.

"Tsk tsk, you're still as deviously cunning." Lin Yang lets out a sly grin.

"Likewise…"

Lin Yang originally intended to destroy the corpse and erase the traces, but on second thought, found it unsuitable.

As Su Yang said, with an incident this big, the Warlord side will certainly not be content to let it rest.

All these Factory Areas are the lifeblood of the Xicheng District's commercial magnates.

They collectively pressure the Warlord and will overturn Jinshan City entirely.

The severity of the matter exceeds that of the port explosion.

If he is killed here, the banquet attendees will surely reveal the fact that Feng Yan rode his coattails.

At that point, the Warlord can simply follow the trail and uncover that this matter may be related to the Six Harmonies Society.

But if he is not killed, to clear his name, he will bring Feng Yan as a witness.

Su Yang already possesses an excellent alibi; even the Warlord, however capable, cannot find anything against him.

"As for Feng Jingchu…"

"Let the Feng Hall Master disappear for a while; just in time we need a batch of sufficient simulation molds," Su Yang says.

Lin Yang, recalling his earlier instructions, chuckles, "I can already envision the fate of Donghai Hall and Mingguang Building."

"From now on, when you laugh, can you show your tooth?"

"What's up?"

"Seeing you smile without showing your tooth makes me uneasy~"

"Um……"

Yin Yun slowly awakens, and when her awareness clears, she lets out a soft whimper.

She looks at the scarred earth, and memories surge like a tide.

"Su Yang… Huang Hua?!"

Yin Yun hurriedly gets up, stumbling to locate the unconscious Huang Hua lying on the ground.

She places her finger before her nose, feels a faint breath, and lets out a long sigh.

But before she can be happy for long, the thought of Su Yang's uncertain fate makes her feel something missing inside, and her once‑bright face turns deathly pale.

"Su Yang!!"

She walks while shouting, constantly reassuring herself—that he will surely be fine.

Yet the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

She searched the surroundings almost everywhere, yet found not even a hint of any trace.

Severely wounded, her strength wanes, and she collapses with a thud.

Luo San's strike is extremely heavy; she lacks Lin Yang's copper‑skinned, iron‑bony resilience, and her brain feels as if pierced by a thousand needles.

After a while, Yin Yun sits on the ground, lost and hollow‑eyed.

She doesn't have deep affection for Su Yang, but the two are a shared destiny.

If he suffers any mishap, all her previous efforts will be in vain.

Moreover, any future rewards will be unrelated to her.

Thinking of this, Yin Yun disregards her injuries, grits her teeth and forces herself up, stumbling forward.

"Su Yang…"

In her view, as long as the corpse hasn't been found, it proves there is still hope!

She doesn't know how long she walked, as the snowflakes falling from the sky grew increasingly frequent, almost covering her slender frame.

The biting cold wind, bare feet touching the icy ground, her fingers already turned blue and numb.

Yin Yun forces herself with a breath to keep her body from collapsing, her gaze unwavering.

But she ultimately overestimated her body's endurance; her vision blurs, and her body goes limp, collapsing into the snow.

"Su Yang…"

A mumble issues, as thin as a mosquito's buzz.

Just when she holds no hope, she vaguely sees a strikingly handsome face.

In the blur, she faintly hears a voice—'I'm here.'

"Is it a hallucination?"

Yin Yun cannot tell, her eyelids slowly droop until she passes out.

The next morning, shattered jade and tangled crystal.

People push open the big door, feel a piercing cold wind, and involuntarily hunch their necks.

"Damn, why is this winter arriving so early this year?"

"Old lady, I'm going to find Coal Second Brother to order a hundred jin of coal; later the price will probably rise."

Lao Du takes a thick fur coat from the Wardrobe, disregarding the foul mildew smell, puts it on and leaves.

He walks small steps along the street, pocketing the meager family savings, and rubs his sore nose.

Today's vendors are noticeably fewer than yesterday's.

The street becomes spacious, the crowd withers.

The only remaining comfort in the dead silent morning is the breakfast stall that has been the same for ten years.

A bowl of steaming lamb offal soup is swallowed, the whole body becomes warm, the most effective way to dispel the cold.

"Boss, another bowl!"

"Alright!"

People wrapped in coats huddle together for warmth, looking at the freezing world, and can't help but exhale a breath of heat.

"Damn it, why hasn't the paper seller come yet today?"

"The weather's this cold, other kids' bodies are thin, they still have to wait for the sun to come out before they start selling."

"When I was five in winter, I delivered goods shirtless, shouldering thirty jin of cargo, not blinking an eye; today's kids can't even endure this bit of hardship."

"Hey, delivering goods is nothing; when I was five I squatted against the wall for a couple of hours just to watch your sister‑in‑law bathe, my butt froze blue, my eyebrows were all frosted, and I didn't even see a single hair strand."

"To your mother!"

Laughter echoed around the stall.

"Boom—..."

But at that moment, the ground gave a slight tremor.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and all looked toward the source of the sound.

A line of Armored Vehicles marched orderly toward the west, soldiers fully armed, their brows and eyes fierce.

Seeing this, the crowd couldn't help but become curious.

"Why did the Warlord send so many people over so early? Is there an exercise today?"

"The exercise was long over; judging by this, there must be some big case."

"Bigger than the East City port explosion?"

"Obviously, the explosion case only involved a few Guard units, can it compare?"

With that said, the crowd became even more curious.

They've lived here for so many years, yet it's the first time they've seen such a grand display.

Could it be that another Warlord is attacking?

When the line of Armored Vehicles passed, a red‑cheeked child darted out of the alley, shouting:

"Paper seller, paper seller!"

Lao Du hadn't swallowed the lamb offal in his Mouth yet, but hurriedly scrambled for a few coins and shouted, "Quick, quick, quick, give me one!"

The newspapers in the paper boy's basket were snatched up in an instant, and everyone stared at the pages, their Pupils suddenly freezing!

"My god, yesterday the Earthquake killed over a hundred people?!"

"Dozens of Factory Areas collapsed; what kind of sin did this create!"

"What a damn Earthquake; if it really were an Earthquake, could we still sleep at home?"

"If it's not a Heavenly Disaster... then it must be intentional."

Earlier, the East City port explosion caused dozens of casualties; later, the Xicheng District factory collapse killed over a hundred.

Which is more serious is clear at a glance.

These old veterans have lived in Jinshan City for decades, never having seen such shocking news.

Lao Du pinched a corner of the newspaper, his Finger trembling slightly, eyes reddened, and he leapt up, running toward Xicheng like a madman.

While running, he cried out mournfully, "Son..."

The crowd saw this, their gazes complex, then let out a long sigh:

"Jinshan City—"

"The heavens are changing..."