Chapter 420: Irremovable

When Wei Gong received Su Ming's message, he was polishing an old-fashioned fountain pen in his office.

A line of small characters was engraved on the barrel—his youthful motto, now worn nearly illegible. He screwed the cap back on, placed the pen in a drawer, rose to the window, and glanced at the orderly rows of armed helicopters on the landing pad below.

Three minutes later, Su Ming pushed the door open and entered.

No salute, no small talk. Su Ming walked to the desk and placed the Encrypted Terminal face‑up on the surface.

The screen was lit.

Chen Yao's file page was still open, and the red annotation at the bottom—"Brother: Chen Shao"—stood out sharply against the white background.

Wei Gong did not look at it immediately.

He was looking at Su Ming's face.

The young man's expression was odd—neither angry nor fearful, but the calm that follows being stabbed in the back and then having to pull the knife out yourself.

"Speak."

Su Ming opened his mouth, speaking at double his usual speed.

"Chen Shao, Eden Garden leader, S Ji wanted criminal. He has a biological younger sister, Chen Yao, thirteen, currently studying in the Gui Ce Yuan Elementary Department, ID XT‑0079."

"The sponsor is Ding An Industry; tracing the actual control chain three levels up leads to Hanlin Capital. The ultimate beneficiary structure of Hanlin Capital is sealed by confidentiality agreements among four law firms, but the underlying relational data in the Federation's top database shows that Hanlin Capital, Ding An Industry, and Shen Wanshan's Huan Yu Heavy Industry are all held by Chen Shao through puppet proxies."

Su Ming recited it word for word, his voice pressed low, each syllable bitten down heavily.

"Three days ago Zhao Construction Materials collapsed; twelve conglomerates jointly short‑sold it, with trading precision down to the minute. That night, the Zhao father and daughter were silenced in the Old District by a High-level Yujie using rule‑type devices. The energy residue parameters I collected on site match the capability profile of Xu An—the Silent One—by ninety‑seven percent."

"Zhao Lingfei bullied Chen Yao at school, crushing one of her hair clips."

"Fifty‑three minutes later, Zhao Construction Materials' market value hit zero."

"That night, the entire Zhao family was wiped out."

Su Ming paused, his Adam's apple rolling twice.

"Director, Shen Wanshan works for Chen Shao. The Guo Family works for Chen Shao. The Qiu Ce Yuan's three hundred billion investment, infrastructure contracts, and operating rights—all are in Eden Garden's hands."

"We thought we built a school."

"In fact we built an incubator for Chen Shao."

The office remained quiet for a long while.

The louvered fan at the air‑conditioner vent swayed gently, emitting a faint tick‑tick. From the distant training field outside the window, someone shouted slogans; the sound passed through three layers of bullet‑proof glass, blurring into an indiscernible hum.

Wei Gong walked behind the desk and sat down.

He did not touch the terminal.

Instead, he fished a pack of opened cigarettes from the drawer—having worked with Su Ming for so long, it was the first time he saw the director smoke.

The lighter had to be struck twice before it lit.

Wei Gong took a drag, the smoke drifting slowly from his nasal cavity, stretching under the fluorescent light into a dim yellow ribbon.

He spoke.

"Shen Wanshan—Huan Yu Heavy Industry, its military‑industrial output accounts for thirty‑one percent of the Federation. Guo Family—construction and rare‑earths, controlling the building‑material supply chain of six core‑city isolation zones. The network behind Ding An Industry links key nodes across nineteen global economies."

The ash fell onto the desk, and Wei Gong ignored it.

"If I capture Shen Wanshan now, what do you think will happen?"

Su Ming gave no answer.

He didn't need to answer, because the answer was obvious.

"If Huan Yu Heavy Industry halts, the frontline Special Forces equipment supply chain breaks. All reinforcement work in the six Weird Domain isolation zones stops. Suppressive rounds, Exoskeletons, containment equipment—production drops by a third. Gospel Church continues its global infiltration; what can we use to hold the line?"

Wei Gong stubbed the cigarette halfway and tossed it into the ashtray.

"If the Guo Family's rare‑earth mine is sealed, the Qiu Ce Yuan's other two campuses will go bankrupt outright. The seventeen thousand enrolled cadets—disband? Detain? Release them into society for the Gospel Church to pick up?"

Su Ming clenched his teeth so hard the vessels at his temples bulged.

"So we just pretend we didn't see it?"

Wei Gong lifted his eyes to look at him.

There was no anger, no resentment in those eyes, only a coldness that had sunk to the bottom.

"You think I don't want to act?"

He said it lightly and slowly.

"Su Ming, I've fought my whole life. Humans, ghosts, demons, monsters—I've faced every kind of opponent. Whenever a problem can be solved with a fist, I never half‑measure it."

He paused, pressed his palm onto the desk, his five fingers splayed slightly.

"But Chen Shao doesn't use guns or Weird. He uses money, law, contracts, clauses. He slammed three hundred billion onto the Federation; every transfer bears a lawyer's signature, an audit stamp, compliance approval. What do I have to catch him? Suspicion?"

"Do you have direct communication records between him and Shen Wanshan? Do you have concrete evidence of him directing conglomerates to short Zhao Construction Materials? Do you have recordings or footage of him ordering Xu An to kill?"

Su Ming's lips moved, but no sound came out.

He didn't.

The Federation's top database can only confirm that Chen Yao and Chen Shao are siblings; it cannot prove what Chen Shao commanded. Shen Wanshan's business actions are legal and compliant, and the short‑selling of Zhao Construction Materials was conducted entirely through formal financial channels. The energy residue parameters from the Old District are indirect evidence, unsuitable for presentation.

Chen Shao placed every move within legal loopholes, cleanly and invulnerably.

"The actual control chain you uncovered for Hanlin Capital—don't even think of taking it to a court; just show it to the Federation Committee—believe it or not, Chen Shao's legal team can, within forty‑eight hours, use a hundred lawful methods to refute it down to nothing."

Wei Gong's voice echoed in the quiet office, each word bearing a dry heaviness.

Su Ming's fist slowly tightened.

His nails dug into his palm. Pain.

But that pain was nothing compared to the nauseous churn in his mind, not even a fraction.

He finally understood why Chen Shao had survived until now.

It wasn't because he was strong enough.

It was because he was clever enough.

"That—"

Su Ming's voice was a bit dry; he swallowed, "Then what do we do?"

Wei Gong stared at him for three seconds, then pulled an envelope from the deep part of the drawer.

It was made of kraft paper, with no number and no seal.

He pushed the envelope in front of Su Ming.

"All the things you investigated today—terminal logs, communication logs, Intelligence Division's access traces—go back now and destroy them all."

Su Ming's eyelid twitched.

"You haven't investigated Chen Yao. You haven't looked into Ding An Industry. You don't know what Hanlin Capital is. This afternoon you did a routine psychological assessment in the counseling room; the result was normal, filed and categorized."

Wei Gong's tone was flat and bland, as if reciting an administrative document.

"Su Ming."

"Here."

"Listen carefully. From this second onward, your status at Qiu Ce Yuan remains unchanged, your covert sentinel mission remains unchanged. But your priority order has been adjusted."

Wei Gong tapped the envelope with his index finger.

"It is no longer monitoring capital infiltration. It is—observation."

"Observe Chen Yao. Observe every person who appears around her, every capital flow, every abnormal incident. But only watch, do not touch."

"Consider yourself a surveillance camera."

Su Ming slipped the envelope into his inner pocket.

His hand was steady, but his palm was slick with sweat.

"Understood."

"There's one more thing." Wei Gong stood, walked to the window, his back to Su Ming, "Do not tell Jiang Yuan about today's contents. Do not tell Qin Zhixia. Do not tell Liang Wen. Tell no one."

Su Ming's pupils contracted.

"Director—"

"The three of them are frontline blades. A blade doesn't need to know what lies beneath the whetstone." Wei Gong's silhouette stretched long in the backlight, "Know too much, and the blade dulls."

Su Ming opened his mouth.

In the end, he said nothing.

He turned and walked to the doorway, and as he twisted the doorknob, Wei Gong suddenly spoke again.

"Su Ming."

"Mm."

"You did well."

The door opened, then closed.

The office was left with only Wei Gong.

He stood by the window for a long time.

The sunset fell from the western horizon, dyeing the whole office a thick orange‑red. On the desk, the Encrypted Terminal still lit, Chen Yao's ID photo showed a quiet face—a thirteen‑year‑old girl, with a pointed chin and big eyes.

Wei Gong reached out and turned off the screen.

At the same moment.

Fifteen minutes after the dismissal bell of Gui Ce Yuan Elementary Department rang.

Students in uniform streamed out of the school gate in small groups, chatting and laughing. Some called parents to hurry, some crouched by the roadside to open freshly bought snacks.

Chen Yao was the last to leave.

She carried an old schoolbag, walking along the base of the fence, her steps unhurried, each foot landing on the stone tiles at the flower‑bed edge, carefully avoiding weeds sprouting from the cracks.

Across the road outside the school gate, a deep‑gray sedan was parked, bearing no brand badge, its price indiscernible. On this street it was so ordinary that no one gave it a second glance.

The car window lowered halfway.

Chen Yao lifted her head and saw that face.

She froze for about 0.3 seconds.

Then that face, which had kept a cautious expression all day, began at the corner of the mouth to split, little by little, into a dazzling, almost blinding smile utterly mismatched to its age.

"Brother!"

The backpack strap slipped off her shoulder; she didn't care and bolted across the road.

Chen Shao stepped out of the driver's seat without letting the driver open the door. He wore a dark casual jacket, his hair still a meticulously slicked back style, his expression unchanged—cold, restrained, keeping others at a distance.

But he knelt down.

One knee on the ground, he spread his arms.

When Chen Yao crashed into his arms, the backpack hit the ground with a "snap". She buried her face in Chen Shao's shoulder hollow, her arms wrapped around his neck, heels lifted, the tips of her shoes scraping the ground twice.

"Why are you picking me up today?"

Chen Yao lifted her face, her chin resting on Chen Shao's shoulder, eyes curved into two crescents.

Chen Shao didn't answer immediately.

His left hand lightly patted the Old Hairpin repaired with copper wire on the back of her head, his fingertip lingering for a second. The restored hairpin was crooked, the copper wire coiled roughly, clearly not the work of a professional.

"Just passing by." he said.

His voice was as flat as a glass of lukewarm water.

"Liar." Chen Yao giggled, "It's four hundred kilometers from headquarters to here; how could you be just passing by?"

Chen Shao gave no reply.

He picked up the backpack, brushed off dust, handed it back to Chen Yao, and finally zipped it up for her.

"Get in the car."

"Alright!"

Chen Yao opened the rear door, slipped inside, slapped the seat belt on, and chattered about how the teacher in today's biology class brought a live hamster, the Cafeteria's braised pork was a bit saltier than last week, and she placed third on the quiz, just two points away from first.

Chen Shao told the driver to start the car, and replied with a humming "mm mm mm."

The car merged into the evening rush traffic, and slowly drove away from the gate of Qiu Ce Yuan.

The sunset was very low.

Light swept horizontally from the end of the street, threading through the gaps between the leaves of the street trees, casting a patchwork of fragmented gold onto the asphalt.

The dark‑gray sedan rolled over those light patches, its body tinged with a warm orange hue.

Through the rear window glass, one could faintly see Chen Yao resting her head on Chen Shao's arm, her mouth still moving, smiling with a glimpse of her little tiger teeth.

A very heart‑warming scene.

So heart‑warming it became a bit distorted.

The sedan gradually receded, and as it passed the last street tree at the far end of the road, the sunset was perfectly blocked by the cluster of buildings.