At four in the morning, the sound of the lock turning was more piercing than any alarm clock. Lu Chenzhou was not asleep. He sat in a chair by the window, slowly twirling a nearly empty pen between his fingers. The pen barrel, held long enough, was warm and slightly slick to the touch. The unusual noises outside the window had vanished long ago, but the lingering afterimage of swaying figures on his retina was like a thin needle buried deep in his temple. The door opened. The stark white light from the ceiling lamp instantly flooded the room, causing a slight twitch at the corner of his eye. Gu Zhixing stood in the doorway, flanked by two technicians in dark work uniforms and a burly security guard. He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, the lenses reflecting a cold, hard arc under the harsh light. "Mr. Lu, my apologies for the intrusion." Gu Zhixing's voice was as steady as if he were reciting legal statutes. "To ensure the absolute security of tomorrow's material release, Mr. Shen requires some technical adjustments. Standard procedure. I trust you understand." Lu Chenzhou set down the pen. Its tip left an almost invisible gray dot on the desk. "Understood," he said, rising to his feet with a measured motion. "What do you need me to do?" "All your electronic devices—mobile phone, tablet, laptop, and any other items with potential storage or communication capabilities—we need to take temporary custody of them." Gu Zhixing stepped aside, allowing the technicians to enter the room. "The room's wired and wireless internet connections will also be temporarily severed until the material release process concludes tomorrow. Additionally..." He paused, his gaze sweeping over Lu Chenzhou's face. "For your safety, two additional security personnel will be stationed outside your door. Twenty-four-hour watch." The left corner of Lu Chenzhou's eye twitched again. Very slightly. He walked to the bedside and picked up the spare phone provided by the Shen residence from the nightstand. The screen lit up, showing its last sliver of battery—he had just been using it to view an offline, encrypted map of the city's underground utility network. His fingers tapped quickly on the cold glass back: three short, three long, three short. A meaningless Morse code signal, for any potential surveillance to hear. Then he handed over the phone. A technician took it, deftly unplugging the charging cable. The connector separated with a soft *click*. Another technician had already moved to the desk and was gathering the tablet and charger. Gu Zhixing pulled on a pair of white cotton gloves and personally inspected the status of each device. The sound of the gloves brushing against the metal casing of the laptop was a dry, rustling whisper, unnaturally loud in the overly quiet pre-dawn room. Lu Chenzhou glanced toward the doorway out of the corner of his eye. In the corridor, the familiar cleaning cart was parked not far away. Beside it, the elderly maid, Wu Ma, in her gray work uniform, was bent over, slowly wiping the doorframe with a cloth. She was deaf and mute, had been cleaning at the Shen residence for thirty years, and started her work at four every morning without fail. At this moment, she seemed utterly oblivious to the commotion in the room. "Do the accounts need to be deactivated on the spot?" Lu Chenzhou asked, his voice devoid of emotion. "We will handle it," Gu Zhixing replied without looking up. "Temporary caches will also be cleared. This is to ensure no information leaks, as Mr. Lu surely understands." "Understood." Lu Chenzhou walked to the desk, watching the technicians work. His fingers unconsciously brushed against the A4 paper on the desk, covered in scribbled calculations. It was a cross-analysis of Shen Yan's fund flows and the timeline from a decade ago, dense with numbers and arrows, but the crucial parts were already memorized. Now, it was just a piece of scrap paper. Gu Zhixing turned and murmured something to the security guard at the door. The burly guard nodded, his gaze locking onto Lu Chenzhou inside the room like a hawk's. Now. At the intersection of the folds, he pressed down hard with the nearly empty pen. The nib scraped across the paper, emitting a coarse, grating sound. Once. Twice. Three times. Three nearly overlapping ink dots bled into a smudged, gray-black blot at the center of the crease. He cupped his hand, crumpling the paper. The paper made a crisp sound, like a bone snapping. Gu Zhixing turned at the noise just as Lu Chenzhou casually tossed the crumpled ball into the wastepaper basket beside the bed. The paper ball traced a brief arc through the air before landing in the basket, mingling with the other scraps. "What's wrong?" Gu Zhixing's gaze swept over the wastebasket. "Nothing." Lu Chenzhou released his fingers; his palm was slightly damp with sweat. "Just a draft." Gu Zhixing looked at him for two seconds, his eyes lingering on the paper ball for a moment before finally turning back and nodding to the technician. "The network is disconnected. All devices have been inventoried." The technician handed him a list. "Mr. Lu, please sign to confirm." Lu Chenzhou took the pen. The barrel was cold. He signed his name at the end of the list, his handwriting steady, without a single tremor. Each stroke was like a knife engraving. Gu Zhixing took the list and gave the room a final sweep. His gaze lingered for half a second toward the bathroom—where there was a faint, almost imperceptible sound of airflow from a vent—then moved away. "Well, we won't disturb your rest any further," he said. "Tomorrow at nine in the morning, Mr. Shen will be waiting for you in the study to review the final materials together. Until then, please do not leave the guest room area. Meals will be brought to you." "Alright." Gu Zhixing left with the others. As the door closed, Lu Chenzhou heard heavy footsteps outside—not two, but four. The additional security was in position, two on each side. The room fell into a deathly silence. No network. No devices. No unusual sounds from outside the window. Only the glaring white light overhead and the faint, alternating breaths from beyond the door. He walked to the window and lifted a corner of the curtain. The shadows beyond the backyard wall remained dense; the cluster of shrubs was just a blurry dark mass in the dim pre-dawn light. But now, he saw fresh signs of disturbed soil at the edge of the shrubs—very slight, as if someone had stepped there and hastily covered it up. He let go, and the curtain fell back into place. The paper ball in the wastebasket had now become the only fragile thread—one that might not even exist—between the island and the noose. *** At 8:40 AM, an unusual commotion arose in the hallway. Lu Chenzhou stood at the door of the guest room, watching as Qin Wangshu strode toward him with two uniformed criminal police officers in tow. She wasn't in plain clothes today, but wore a sharply pressed navy-blue uniform. The silver four-pointed star flowers on her shoulder straps reflected cold light under the corridor lamps. Her steps were heavy, the heels of her boots striking the marble floor with a clear, oppressive rhythm—*tap, tap, tap*. Each step sounded like a countdown. Two security guards stepped forward to block her, but Qin Wangshu raised her hand, stopping them with her credentials and a document. Her movements didn't falter; the document almost jabbed into the guard's chest. "City Criminal Investigation Division, executing official duties." Her voice was like a blade, sharp and cold. "This is a search warrant. We have received a real-name report that the Shen residence may contain illegal surveillance equipment and prohibited electronic items related to multiple cases. We are conducting an inspection of the relevant areas in accordance with the law. Please cooperate." The two officers behind her had already spread out. One took position at the east staircase entrance of the hallway, while the other kept a hand on his equipment belt, his eyes scanning all the doors. Shen Moqing hurried over from the direction of the study, Gu Zhixing close behind him. One of the officers behind her had already taken out a handheld spectrum analyzer. When the device powered on, it emitted a regular *beep-beep* sound, like a heartbeat. Shen Moqing approached from the direction of the study, Gu Zhixing following closely behind. The old patriarch wore a gentle smile, the jade thumb ring on his left hand slowly rubbing against his palm. "Captain Wangshu, so early," Shen Moqing's voice was as refined as ever. "Is there perhaps some misunderstanding? Our Shen family has always abided by the law. The security systems in our residence are all legally registered." "Whether it's a misunderstanding or not will be clear after the inspection," Qin Wangshu's Two police detectives entered the room. The beeping sound of the detector began to move between the walls and furniture, rhythmic and cold. Lu Chenzhou stood at the door, watching the instrument scan the desk, under the bed, and the wardrobe. His breathing was steady, but his fingertips unconsciously pressed into his palms. Shen Moqing and Gu Zhixing also stood outside the door. The old patriarch’s gaze followed the detector, the smile on his face unchanged, but the frequency with which he rubbed his thumb ring increased almost imperceptibly. Gu Zhixing pushed his glasses up; his eyes behind the lenses were like scanners, recording the expressions and movements of everyone in the room. The detector approached the bathroom. The frequency of the beeping sped up. Qin Wangshu’s eyes sharpened. She walked to the bathroom doorway, watching as the detective probed inside with the instrument. It swept over the sink, the mirror, the shower stall… finally, slowly moving toward the location of the ceiling exhaust vent. The corner of Lu Chenzhou’s left eye began to twitch again. He took a step forward, his voice not loud but clear enough: “Mr. Shen, regarding the scale of evaluation in tomorrow’s materials concerning the late Wang Dehai—also known by the alias ‘Hai Rong,’ that key witness—I gave it more thought last night. If we completely avoid mentioning the financial transactions between him and Shen Yan, wouldn’t it appear as if we are deliberately concealing something, which might instead arouse suspicion?” The smile on Shen Moqing’s face froze for half a second. Gu Zhixing sharply turned his head to look at Lu Chenzhou. “My suggestion is,” Lu Chenzhou continued, his pace measured, each word like a meticulously polished chess piece, “we could acknowledge the existence of those financial transactions in the materials, but characterize them as Shen Yan’s personal, private actions, motivated by sympathy or an investment error, unrelated to the core of the case. This way, we preserve the facts while severing the connection. What do you think?” Shen Moqing was silent for two seconds. During those two seconds, the beeping of the detector inside the bathroom had moved directly beneath the exhaust vent, its frequency as dense as an alarm. “Chenzhou has considered this carefully,” the old patriarch finally spoke, his voice betraying neither joy nor anger. “The scale indeed needs careful handling. Zhixing, make a note of this as well; we’ll discuss it in detail after the meeting.” Gu Zhixing nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on Lu Chenzhou’s face. Inside the bathroom, the detector’s frequency slowed down again. The detective leaned in to inspect the vent opening, shook his head, and withdrew. “No abnormal signal source in the bathroom,” he reported. Qin Wangshu’s lips pressed into a thin line. She glanced at Lu Chenzhou; her gaze felt like a blade scraping across skin. The search lasted forty minutes. The guest room, the adjacent small sitting room, even the decorative cabinets in the hallway were checked. Apart from a few standard electronic devices in the Shen residence (the network had already been cut), nothing was found. Finally, Qin Wangshu put away the detector and walked up to Lu Chenzhou. “The search has not found any prohibited items as alleged in the report,” her voice was cold. “However, given your current connection to multiple cases and the potential risk of information leaks within the Shen residence, I hereby formally notify you: effective immediately, you are listed as a person of key interest requiring monitoring. During the investigation of Shen Yan’s case, you are not permitted to leave the city without police authorization and must comply with summonses at any time.” She paused, then added, “This is also for your own protection, Lu Chenzhou.” She emphasized the last three words heavily. Lu Chenzhou met her gaze and nodded. “Understood. Thank you for the reminder, Captain Qin.” Qin Wangshu turned and gave Shen Moqing a formal nod. “Apologies for the disturbance, Mr. Shen. We will contact you again if needed.” She left with the detectives. The sound of footsteps faded away, leaving only the Shen household members in the hallway. The smile on Shen Moqing’s face finally faded. He looked at Lu Chenzhou; the warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced only by a cold scrutiny. “Chenzhou,” he said, “I do not want any more ‘surprises’ in tomorrow’s materials. Do you understand my meaning?” “Understood.” “Good.” Shen Moqing turned and walked toward the study. Gu Zhixing followed closely, but before leaving, he glanced back at Lu Chenzhou, then looked toward the far end of the hallway at the now-empty cleaning cart. Aunt Wu had already pushed the cart away. *** In the afternoon, Lu Chenzhou, citing a need for “fresh air The shrubbery branches and leaves showed several unnatural breaks. The breaks were fresh, revealing pale green stem pith, with sticky sap slowly oozing out. More glaringly, on the soil beneath the bushes lay several flattened cigarette filters. The cheap white fibers had been ground viciously into the mud by a shoe heel, emitting a pungent chemical burnt smell. Not Shen Manor's cigarettes. The security and servants here either didn't smoke, or only smoked specific mild imported brands. This cheap, acrid tobacco smell—he had only smelled it ten years ago. Outside that small room where the "false confession" was signed, on the two unfamiliar men guarding the door. His fingers pressed against the cold windowsill, his knuckles turning white. The scavengers from outside the wall had been here. What were they clearing? The contact points Shen Qinghuan had set up? Or perhaps the traces Wu Ma might have inadvertently left when she pushed her cart past the small gate in the backyard every day? He didn't know. He only knew the noose was tightening from three directions simultaneously: Shen Moqing's deadline, Qin Wangshu's legal net, and that knife from the shadows that had pressed against his throat ten years ago. When he returned to the guest room, the wastepaper basket was already empty. A clean trash bag was fitted inside, without a single wrinkle. Wu Ma had been here. The crumpled paper ball was gone. But did she understand those three ink dots? Did she grasp that the intersection of the folds represented the bathroom exhaust vent? Would she push the cleaning cart out through the small backyard gate as usual this evening? Would there still be the ghost arranged by Shen Qinghuan waiting at the centralized disposal point? He didn't know. He knew nothing. Outside the window, the sky was darkening inch by inch. Night descended like ink dripping into clear water, silently spreading. And Wu Ma, the deaf-mute woman, her face etched with deep ravines by time, forever silent—she had now become the sole, isolated piece on the entire chessboard that he could neither predict nor control. Was she the messenger of hope? Or the final straw that would break him? Lu Chenzhou walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The icy water stream washed over his fingers, carrying away the thin sweat from his palms. He lifted his head. The man in the mirror had a slight twitch at the corner of his eye. The twenty-four-hour countdown had only twelve hours remaining. He had to carve out a third path within these twelve hours. A bloody path that could deliver the truth amidst the three-sided hunt. Even if that path required him to first throw himself into the abyss.