Chapter 50#

Through the thick metal door of the cryogenic chamber, the chaotic sounds from outside filtered in faintly through the transparent window.

It started with the person in charge shouting in a panic, “What happened? Why won’t it open?! Quick, quick, quick—go get the warehouse manager!”

Then there was Lin Yue’s voice, faintly tinged with a sobbing edge: “What do we do, what do we do? Our young master Yang can’t even handle a bit of dampness on rainy days—being at such a low temperature for too long could cause serious problems!”

And the overlapping clamor of several Ji Corporation executives talking over one another.

“Assistant Nie is still inside too! What kind of situation is this? What controls your door? Why would it malfunction like this?”

Including Ji Chengyi’s words: “It was my operational error.”

The people beside him offered comfort.

“President Ji, this is obviously a fault with their processing plant’s own equipment—it has nothing to do with you.”

“No one wanted this.”

……

Inside the cryogenic chamber, in less than two minutes, Ji Yang began to feel the distinctive pain of frostbite settling into the bones of his fingers.

When he’d said those words about banding together, his body had been pressed closely against Nie Xu’s.

Distracted by hearing Ji Chengyi’s voice, he didn’t forget a cold sneer: “Operational error? If Wang Weitao and the other bodyguard he brought along—the one in the leather jacket—hadn’t secretly tampered with things, I’d have frozen to death in here today.”

Nie Xu’s voice was as cold as the temperature inside: “Shut up.”

While saying this, he frowned—but his hand pressed Ji Yang against his own chest.

Ji Yang’s face was forced against the other man’s chest. With a plain, blunt assessment: “Your body temperature is actually pretty warm.”

Nie Xu, who had been scanning the interior of the chamber, paused his gaze and looked down at him.

Ji Yang raised his eyes: “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Nie Xu said. “Looking at how thick your skin is.”

Ji Yang was about to retort when he noticed Nie Xu’s hand sliding all the way down his back.

A tingling numbness crawled up Ji Yang’s spine. He spoke up: “Brother Xu, while sneaking around is thrilling and all, isn’t this place a bit inappropriate?”

Nie Xu didn’t even acknowledge him, but his hand didn’t stop, sliding all the way down until it retrieved a dark plaid handkerchief from Ji Yang’s right trouser pocket.

Ji Yang froze for a moment, watching as Nie Xu took the handkerchief and wrapped it tightly around his hand in a few deft motions, securing it firmly.

Ji Yang followed his gaze to the device on the wall, and understanding flashed in his eyes.

Nie Xu stood up and pushed him away.

Ji Yang grabbed him and pressed him back against the door, saying: “No.”

“Do you want to die?” Frustration and coldness flashed together in Nie Xu’s eyes—like the patience of some kind of indulgence had finally run out, and what remained of that coldness, upon seeing the frost that had formed so easily on Ji Yang’s eyelashes, nearly reached its peak.

A threat was a threat, but he didn’t use force to throw Ji Yang off.

Ji Yang assumed Nie Xu simply disapproved of his approach. But what Ji Yang had decided had never been something anyone else could change.

His teeth were already chattering, but the fire in his eyes burned even brighter. He said to Nie Xu: “Low temperatures triggering acute onset of pain from old injuries—the hospital’s treatment records will be irrefutable evidence. I just need to formally notify the processing plant, and the surveillance footage will be permanently locked down. And the Cold Chain Line’s bidding committee—they’re the perfect witnesses to this act of sabotage.”

The more Ji Yang spoke, the more fluent he became. With a cold sneer: “Unlucky for him—just a couple of days ago I learned from Lin Yue that Jin Husheng’s company had been outsourced to provide security for Ji Chengyi’s shell company, ‘Yongsheng,’ for their storage facility. I’ve already sent this information to Ji Zhonglin in advance. Guess whether my dear eldest brother will use the excuse of a safety inspection to choke off the flow of supplies?”

Nie Xu’s deep, dark eyes held emotions impossible to read. “This is your reason for betting on yourself?”

“That’s right,” Ji Yang said. “I’ve always been this kind of person.”

Ji Yang recalled that inexplicable dream from before—those other words spoken by that vague, half-grown boy: In this world, apart from yourself, no one can save you.

Ji Yang strongly agreed.

Looking back on his upbringing, he had lived by that principle since childhood.

When I can’t beat you, I cheat, cajole, pout, and act shameless—whatever face you want to see, I can put on.

But the moment I sink my teeth into you, I will bite until you’re drenched in blood.

Ji Yang almost imperceptibly held Nie Xu’s wrist and continued: “I’m betting that Ji Zhonglin will act. Betting that Ji Chengyi’s asset transfers will be forcibly halted. And betting that you’ll seize the momentum rather than become my obstacle. Isn’t that right, Brother Xu?”

There had never been a moment until now when Nie Xu so clearly recognized that he, too, had both rational and emotional sides.

Rationality told him his original choice had not been wrong.

Ji Yang had given him far too many surprises and unexpected moments.

From the moment Ji Yang indirectly exposed the water quality issues of the Lanhai Bay project through a livestream, he had been woven, step by step, into the entire web.

The wild abandon when he pranked people during the Huizhou business trip. The decisive manner in which he insisted Yi Yuan be affiliated with Jianyuan. The sincerity beneath the seemingly casual way he helped the Zhoushou fruit farmers.

Those moments were too many—more than enough that countless smaller details had become impossible to count.

Qi Songqing had once asked him: Have you gone soft on him?

At first he’d thought so too. Later he realized it wasn’t entirely that.

There was concern and care he didn’t want to acknowledge. There was subconscious partiality. And it had also become a priority factor in many of his decisions.

His rationality told him that what Ji Yang had done this time was, once again, perfectly executed.

He had exploited one man’s desire for revenge, starting from a very small incident, yet the result could move the entire board.

But—Ji Yang was too ruthless.

A textbook case of a suicidal logic: kill a thousand enemies, lose eight hundred of your own.

When reason faded away, Nie Xu found himself genuinely angry.

This emotion had no business appearing in his head—let alone at a time like this.

Ji Corporation Shipping had reached the final stage of its division and consolidation. As long as the last few lines were successfully severed, the craggy full landscape of Ji Corporation, long buried underground, would be completely exposed to the light. At this juncture, Ji Yang’s choice was an excellent force multiplier.

What he should do was indeed seize the momentum.

But anger had taken the upper hand.

Anger at Ji Yang for not discussing this in advance—including his methods of execution.

Nie Xu could have, in his capacity as a partner, raised questions and objections.

Instead, he reached back and caught the hand gripping his wrist, a smile on his lips laced with gritted teeth: “Gambler’s mentality. You’re so sure you’ll win?”

“So then,” Ji Yang met Nie Xu’s eyes. “Don’t you dare let me lose.”

Outside, sounds of forcible attempts to pry open the door had already begun.

Nie Xu shot Ji Yang a sideways glance. As the outside failed attempt after attempt, ignoring Ji Yang’s attempt to stall for time, he slammed his fist into the emergency device on the wall.

Instantly, the alarm red lights throughout the entire cold chain facility began flashing, emitting a piercing shriek.

After a hiss of released pressure, the metal door slowly opened.

Where the temperature differentials inside and outside met, the cold air billowed out in a white fog.

The people waiting outside rushed in like a swarm.

“Are you okay? Are you okay?”

“Quick, quick, quick—Fourth Young Master, come out right now!”

“What’s with this alarm?”

The chaotic jumble of voices and activity came to an abrupt halt the moment they could see the situation inside.

Ji Corporation’s Fourth Young Master was still wrapped in the bodyguard’s jacket, but that beautiful young face had been frozen completely colorless.

It had only been a short while—yet frost had already formed on his eyelashes and eyebrows.

His legs had long since given out entirely, supported solely by the bodyguard’s arm around him.

Although the person in charge had mentally prepared himself in advance, he was still badly startled by the sight. He even found himself wondering: if they had waited, as the Fourth Young Master originally suggested, until a set time before opening the door—would someone genuinely have died?

Lin Yue had already lunged forward, his voice breaking: “Young Master Yang! How are you?”

Nie Xu handed him over: “Take him straight to the hospital. I’ll have someone meet you halfway. The rest of you stay.”

“Of course, of course.” Lin Yue nodded repeatedly, as though he’d found his anchor. Then, out of habit, he asked: “And what about you, Assistant Nie?”

Nie Xu untied the handkerchief from his hand and summoned the person in charge.

Right in front of several Ji Corporation executives, he said flatly: “Temperature anomaly. The switch was jammed. Starting now, your entire cold chain processing plant ceases all operations across the board, pending investigation by headquarters.”

“A-Assistant Nie.” One of the executives spoke up: “It was just an accident—isn’t this a bit excessive?”

“That’s right,” the person beside him chimed in. “Right now, Ji Corporation’s shipping lines that are still profitable are few and far between. The losses from this would be incalculable.” Then, seeking agreement: “President Ji, say something to Assistant Nie—just because he’s the old man’s man doesn’t mean he should make decisions this recklessly, surely?”

Ji Chengyi suddenly became the linchpin of the leadership group.

“Nie Xu.” He frowned and spoke: “Their concerns aren’t without merit.”

Nie Xu placed the handkerchief—still bearing specks of blood—into his pocket. He surveyed each person present with a level gaze before finally returning his eyes to Ji Chengyi’s face.

“President Ji.” He said: “My responsibility is to ensure the stable operation of Ji Corporation’s existing core assets. No uncertain factor, nor anyone with ulterior motives, can shake this principle.”

Ji Chengyi’s expression shifted slightly. “I am the actual person in charge of Ji Corporation Shipping.”

Nie Xu repeated the same words: “The old man’s directive applies to everyone—including you, President Ji.”

For a moment, the atmosphere on the scene was so cold it seemed on the verge of freezing solid.

The Ji Corporation executives wore a variety of expressions.

Ji Yang had already been helped away by Lin Yue.

He caught only the tail end of it.

The corner of his mouth curled slightly.

Ji Chengyi was probably feeling guilty right about now—he must have realized that his asset transfers hadn’t escaped Nie Xu’s notice. And Nie Xu’s final statement, regardless of whether it was true or questionable, meant Ji Chengyi wouldn’t be foolish enough to verify it at a time like this.

One could only say—Nie Xu was still far too direct.

This was certainly not the attitude one should have toward the shou protagonist.

But at this point, Ji Yang had completely lost all faith in relying on that novel he’d read—The Young Master’s Personal Bodyguard.

The parts that matched were there, certainly.

But the parts that didn’t matched far, far more.

“Young Master Yang, Young Master Yang…” Once they were out of the processing plant, Lin Yue was still calling out to him nonstop.

Ji Yang called back lazily: “Stop calling. I’m not dead.”

“You scared me to death.” Lin Yue supported him as they walked, saying: “I thought you were already semi-conscious.”

Ji Yang: “Not that dramatic. Even if someone deliberately lowered the temperature, it wouldn’t actually kill a person in such a short time.” He didn’t forget to give Lin Yue credit: “The information you provided will be a huge help. I’m marking you as the top contributor.”

Lin Yue sniffled. “I don’t care about being top contributor—it’s enough if it was useful.”

“No one’s journey is taken in vain,” Ji Yang said, enduring the discomfort that was slowly creeping up his legs as his temperature returned to normal. “Just like the time you spent by Jin Husheng’s side—that wasn’t in vain either.”

Lin Yue nodded heavily.

Lin Yue was very thin, and supporting Ji Yang to the roadside was already straining him. As he craned his neck, looking for the approaching car to see where it had parked, two vehicles bearing special markings suddenly pulled up by the curb.

Several fully armed individuals jumped out of the vehicles.

Lin Yue was badly startled. “Who are you?”

Two of them stepped forward. “We received notice that there was an accident here and someone was injured. We’re leaving a few people to handle things on site. Come on—we’ll find someone to take you to the hospital.”

Two minutes later.

Ji Yang leaned against the cabin wall, sitting on a stretcher. Lin Yue crouched beside him looking thoroughly scared, muttering under his breath.

“Did Assistant Nie send them?” He looked around at the people sitting with perfectly upright postures, and voiced his suspicion: “I have this guilty feeling that I’ve done something wrong and I’m sitting in a prisoner transport vehicle.”

Ji Yang replied calmly: “What are you guilty about? The work you’re doing now is perfectly legal.”

Lin Yue: “That’s not what I meant.”

Ji Yang: “I know.”

The cold chain processing plant was remote to begin with. The only group that could arrive this quickly was the nearby garrison training area.

Whether or not these people had been sent by Nie Xu—Ji Yang had previously remarked that Nie Xu was involved in both the underworld and the legitimate world, and that had carried a somewhat teasing tone. He decided he wouldn’t tease anymore.

He just was.

The news of Ji Corporation’s Fourth Young Master being hospitalized after an accident spread quickly, carried everywhere like paper caught in the wind.

Ji Yang was in a private VIP hospital room.

The hospital confirmed that he was in the acute onset period of phantom limb pain caused by low temperatures. He needed to stay for three days, with regular pain management to ease the discomfort caused by the episodes.

And over those three days, no shortage of things happened on the outside.

The cryogenic chamber incident became the catalyst, and the rumors about the illegitimate son’s bloodless murder tactics ran rampant.

The Ji family’s second branch fought back, seizing the opportunity.

Ji Zhonglin, using his still-undeceased title of “Ji Corporation’s Current President,” submitted an internal audit application to the board of directors. He requested a comprehensive investigation into related-party transactions within the shipping division over the past three years.

The investigation quickly uncovered things.

Ji Chengyi’s private enterprise, named “Yongsheng,” had been recently engaged in the transfer of shipping assets under the guise of capital injection, cooperation agreements, and equipment leasing.

In an instant, the spectacle reached its peak.

In the hospital.

Over these days, no shortage of people had come and gone through Ji Yang’s ward.

The little nurses always liked to cluster together, discussing the sweet-talking young master in the private VIP room who greeted everyone with a three-tenths smile.

Even during needle insertions, they would jostle to be the one sent to his room.

“Quite a lot of visitors these days.” The nurses chatted among themselves. “This young master is nothing like what the outside world says.”

“He never was,” another nurse replied. “He’s ‘Yi Zhi Yang’—he said himself that he’s no Fourth Young Master of the Ji family. Seems like a pretty clean break with the family.”

“I wonder if his episode was really what’s circulating online—that he was set up by the Third Young Master of the Ji family’s first branch.”

“It seems like no one from the Ji family has visited these past few days.”

“Who would come? The Ji family is busy being a mess, okay?”

The two nurses were chatting as they walked up to the ward door, but then they stopped short.

They noticed two burly bodyguards standing at the entrance today. The setup looked rather intimidating.

The nurses hesitated, unsure whether to approach.

They exchanged a glance and whispered: “The Ji family sent someone?”

“Don’t know,” they murmured.

Just as the words fell, a clatter of things being smashed erupted from inside the ward.

Accompanied by a shout: “Nie Xu! Are you trying to murder me?!”

A man’s calm voice drifted out: “I thought you didn’t know pain.”

Nurse One: Pretty peaceful.

Nurse Two: Wait—something feels off. Isn’t this more like someone settling old scores by coming to your door?