Chapter 94#
Ji Yang rarely ever saw Nie Xu smoke.
Hearing him say that, he instead felt a surge of defiance. “I won’t take yours. I’ll go buy some myself — that’s fine, right?”
“Do you not want your legs anymore?” Nie Xu asked.
Ji Yang: “…Fine, you’re ruthless. You’ve threatened me.”
Ji Yang sat back down heavily. His cigarette-stealing attempt had failed. When he saw Nie Xu get back in the car, he changed the subject. “Who were you just on the phone with?”
“Someone from business.” Nie Xu recalled how Yu Qin had specifically relayed the message “don’t let Ji Yang know yet” from the other end of the line. He paused, then named an irrelevant person.
Ji Yang didn’t press further.
That afternoon, due to an emergency, he went to Yiyuan.
The entire office was on high alert.
Sitting in the conference room, he watched a live interview projected on the screen before him.
The subjects were none other than the very couple who had previously come to the Yiyuan office — Ji Changshou and his wife.
Ji Yang sat in the front row, watching this pair who put on respectable appearances as they sighed with weathered expressions at the reporter.
The reporter asked: “The Ji family’s commercial achievements belong to the past, yet the public’s curiosity about the Ji family has never ceased. Under the current circumstances, embroiled in various scandals — both public opinion and financial — everyone else has chosen to avoid the topic. Why have the two of you chosen to step forward at this time?”
Ji Changshou gave a bitter smile and shook his head: “Of course I know this isn’t the right moment. But I’m not just the eldest son of the Ji family — I’m a husband, a father. I can’t continue to watch helplessly as an unfilial son drags the family’s name through the mud for generations to come.”
The reporter pressed on: “As far as the public knows, you have two children in total. This ‘unfilial son’ — who are you referring to?”
Ji Changshou continued: “The younger one. The one who’s been spoiled rotten since childhood.”
The middle-aged man performed the role of a heartbroken father despairing over his hopeless child.
Even Ji Yang, who had long grown accustomed to that selfish, foolish, and ugly face of his, was surprised to find that he could put on such a gentlemanly act when facing the media.
Ji Changshou did indeed have decent looks, and even after years of corrosion by greed and desire, when he put on a respectable front, he was surprisingly convincing.
People in the office looked at Ji Yang with concern.
Ji Yang signaled that he was fine.
He was genuinely curious — what exactly were these two trying to do?
The reporter asked again: “Just yesterday, Ji Yang attended the signing ceremony for the acquisition of Jianyuan Assets as a representative of Yiyuan. Over the past year, his public reception has been consistently positive. As his father, aren’t you proud of that?”
Ji Changshou: “I just don’t want him to keep going down this path of madness, and I don’t want him to continue deceiving the public. My son was diagnosed with neuroencephalitis at the age of six. After waking up, he didn’t recognize anyone at all. His eccentric and extreme temperament over the years has been plain for all to see. Over the past year, I don’t know who has been poisoning his mind, but he’s been opposing his family at every turn, even demanding to sever the father-son relationship with me. He’s being used by someone. I can’t be that cruel — I still want him to come back to his senses.”
The reporter seemed stunned by this string of words.
Several seconds passed without a response.
When they recovered, they asked: “What you’re implying is that the Fourth Young Master was manipulated into advancing the Ji family’s downfall?”
Ji Changshou: “There have always been people who disapprove of the Ji family. The information circulating online — half true, half false — who can say for certain?”
The reporter still had some sense, and wisely sidestepped the Ji family’s affair, simply asking: “By bringing your father-son conflict into the public eye, what result are you hoping to achieve?”
Ji Changshou: “Nothing really. He’s been trending so much lately, constantly on the hot search. I’m afraid that one day he’ll have another episode and be consumed by his own fame — that he won’t survive it. As long as he agrees to reconcile, his aunt and I will always consider him family.”
The office was very quiet.
The first to explode was Qian Yitian.
With a smack, he slapped his hand on the desk, his face flushed red. “Is there really a father like this in this world?! This is… this is absolute nonsense!”
With the first one out, others gradually voiced their agreement in hushed tones.
“Is this because of what happened last time — did we anger him? He knows we thrive on internet traffic, so he’s pulling out all the stops to try and destroy us?”
“Exactly. We just won the Nandao bidding, and it’s a critical time.”
Some didn’t think it was a big deal: “Today’s netizens aren’t that easy to incite. They have brains. Can net judgment alone decide the Ji family’s affairs? That was bankruptcy due to financial violations, power struggles, and crushing debt. Not a single person in Haicheng who deserved to go in was missed. A few words from anyone aren’t enough to make people believe otherwise.”
Someone nearby checked the online sentiment and said: “But there are still some people on the internet speculating wildly, and there are those who will believe it.”
Peng Jiaying, sitting to the side, tilted his head and asked: “Why do I get the feeling this is aimed squarely at you personally?”
Ji Yang contemplated for a moment, then asked Peng Jiaying: “Any news from the police these past two days?”
“Nothing I’ve heard of.” Peng Jiaying shook his head. “But I did hear something reliable — the artifact smuggling case and the old Qiming have been reopened. The higher-ups have ordered results within a month. Several families in Fanzhou are running around pulling strings.”
Ji Yang: “Put together a list of the most active ones and send it to me.”
Peng Jiaying was puzzled: “You’re barely holding it together yourself, and you still have the energy to worry about this?”
Ji Yang looked up again at the screen, where the interview had just ended, the camera lingering on Ji Changshou’s somewhat twisted face.
Ji Yang: “Ji Changshou may not be targeting me personally. He’s not a particularly clever man. Choosing to appear at a time like this seems more like he’s been guided by someone — the real purpose is to muddy the waters further.”
Peng Jiaying frowned: “Guided by whom? Old Master Ji?”
Ji Yang shook his head: “I don’t think so.”
Ji Yansong was currently limited in mobility, and the entire Ji family estate was under Nie Xu’s watchful eye.
The second and third branches couldn’t be involved.
The only one who would need to muddy the waters — to exchange for some kind of benefit or breathing room — there was really only one person.
It was just that Ji Chengyi was wanted in Nandao, and no one knew where he had gone. Nor was it certain when, or if, he had slipped back into Fanzhou.
Ji Yang returned to his office and received a call from Nie Xu.
“I’ll handle it,” Nie Xu said directly.
Ji Yang spun his office chair around, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. “No need. As a veteran internet professional, I’m not afraid of a little something like this. Let the bullets fly for a bit.”
Ji Yang heard the sound of a chair being dragged from Nie Xu’s end.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“I’ve got a meeting with someone,” Nie Xu said casually, then countered: “Do you really not need me to handle it?”
Ji Yang: “I really don’t. But I’ve had a question that’s been bothering me.”
Nie Xu hummed in acknowledgment. “Go ahead.”
Ji Yang said: “Everyone knows Project Blue Sea was a covert research operation for criminal purposes. But who exactly is behind it? Or rather — who rescued Ji Chengyi, and who has sustained this project all these years?”
At that moment, in a teahouse nestled deep in an alley in the city center, Nie Xu rose from his window seat on the second floor and moved behind a pillar.
His eyes tracked several people in the corner downstairs whose behavior seemed abnormal, while he replied to Ji Yang, his tone as calm as if discussing the weather.
Nie Xu: “The founder who originally proposed the concept for Project Blue Sea was named Quade — a notorious scientific madman. His bio-research laboratory was based overseas from the beginning. It was roughly twenty-eight years ago that this criminal network spread into China through smuggling channels. At the same time, foreign laboratories were completely hidden during a poorly prepared anti-crime operation.”
“According to subsequent investigation files, Quade died not long after that operation. He was succeeded by his deputy — a maniac named Sam. Because of this man, the criminal network officially expanded into China. But that was only the beginning. Fanzhou’s political landscape at the time was turbulent, gangs were springing up everywhere, making it the ideal breeding ground for crime. So, in summary, Project Blue Sea doesn’t refer to a single individual. It consists of three parts.”
“The biochemical/neural research team — the core and most critical component, into which your mother secretly infiltrated. The second is the financiers — families like the Ji family provided funding through smuggling operations, while Xilemen provided living subjects. The year the Qiming disaster occurred, Project Blue Sea suffered another devastating blow. This had always been kept in top-secret official archives, never made public, and the reason was unclear. Thinking about it now, it began when your mother took the research materials. More than half the researchers were killed or injured, and Xilemen’s leader was executed by firing squad.”
Listening to Nie Xu’s words, the fragmented picture in Ji Yang’s mind — the Ji family, the sea disaster, Project Blue Sea — finally began to come together into a complete image.
Ji Yang thought of the couple who had held him on the Qiming.
That was a middle-aged Nie Yunshan and Shen Yueqing.
The “A-Yu” they had said would come to pick him up was, without surprise, Yu Fei.
Ji Yang felt a lump in his throat. “The Qiming disaster — it wasn’t simply because the Ji family wanted to seize the Nie family’s assets, was it?”
Nie Xu said: “Correct. By then, they already knew about the Ji family’s criminal activities and had secured a certain amount of evidence.”
So they were retaliated against. Silenced.
They also knew his mother, and had brought him via the waterway — they inevitably knew some of the inner workings of Project Blue Sea.
Ji Yang: “I’m sorry.”
Nie Xu fell silent entirely.
After two seconds, he said: “Are you saying you want me to come over right now?”
Ji Yang couldn’t keep up: “Right now? Come over for what?”
“To educate you.” Nie Xu said it bluntly, then paused, his voice softening. “If you’re apologizing, then I should be apologizing to those 1,320 souls, to their families and children, to everyone who was affected.”
Ji Yang froze slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then take those words back.” Nie Xu said: “That generation had things they believed worth upholding, rules and righteousness they couldn’t violate. No one was wrong. An apology was never your responsibility.”
The tangled emotions in Ji Yang’s heart were smoothed over. He said softly: “Alright, I take it back.”
Then he asked: “You said three parts. What about the remaining part?”
Nie Xu: “The remaining part is the main reason this project has been limping along all these years. These people are scattered across all walks of life. They don’t innovate — they preserve. Relying on some of the research results and channels left over from back then, they’ve been operating continuously. In the past two years, they’ve been recruiting followers, experiencing a resurgence. In the highest-secret official archives, they have a collective name: ‘The Gravekeepers.’”
Ji Yang: “The Gravekeepers? That’s so edgy.”
Nie Xu simply smiled at his assessment. “Don’t underestimate them. These people are hidden in the sea of humanity — the hardest to detect.”
This made Ji Yang mentally cycle through everyone he knew on the spot.
He couldn’t find anything out of place.
Nie Xu seemed to know what he was thinking: “I don’t necessarily mean people around you. Ji Changshou suddenly accepting an interview today — that’s unusual. Ji Chengyi has probably already made contact with his parents.”
Ji Yang mused: “When you put it that way, we’re quite in sync.” He continued: “If it really is the Gravekeepers, having chosen Ji Chengyi — who was recommended by Ji Yansong — as the successor heir, it actually wouldn’t be surprising.”
Ji Chengyi had been associated with Xilemen for a long time.
And behind the scenes, he had Ji Yansong’s favor.
His “prophetic foresight” would be quite useful in the eyes of the Gravekeepers. No wonder Zhao Yuan had said he was chosen by fate.
Nie Xu: “Stirring up the waters at this point only confirms that he’s in a difficult position.”
Ji Yang thought: No kidding.
The chosen one had become a wanted fugitive. Forget about Gravekeepers or not — just the inability to live in the sunlight would be enough to make someone like Ji Chengyi, a man of considerable pride, miserable.
Ji Yang raised another question. “Is it okay for you to tell me all this? Isn’t this supposed to be top secret?”
Nie Xu: “You’re a party involved. I’ve already submitted the corrections to your and your mother’s identity files. The higher-ups will verify them. Once confirmed, your security clearance level will be equivalent to the case’s. That way, even if I’m not around, it’s an extra layer of protection for you.”
Hearing this made Ji Yang feel uncomfortable.
He said, quite displeased: “What do you mean, ‘if you’re not around’?”
“I’m not around right now, am I?” Nie Xu said calmly. “Tying you to my hip 24/7 — would you want that?”
“I would,” Ji Yang said. “Brother’s hip, a lethal blade. Why wouldn’t I?”
He laughed out loud after saying it.
There was a smile in Nie Xu’s tone as well. “Alright. Remember your own words.”
The call ended.
Nie Xu put his phone away, and the smile vanished with it. That warmth that only appeared for one particular person seemed like some kind of illusion.
Nie Xu finally glanced downstairs once more, then slipped into the second-to-last teahouse on the left of the wooden corridor.
Yu Qin was still sitting in the inner seat, pouring tea with a teapot. Hearing the movement, he didn’t look up. “You’ve verified it yourself now, right? I wasn’t lying to you.”
Nie Xu didn’t sit down. He merely leaned against the sliding door. “The reason you chose to return to China — is it because your identity was discovered?”
“That’s only one of them. From the moment I learned about the Ji family’s troubles, I knew Ji Yansong would definitely send people looking for me.” Yu Qin at this moment was slightly different from the refined, gentle demeanor he showed in front of Ji Yang — there was an air of scrutiny and directness. He countered: “And you? As far as I know, the Ji family’s current predicament has everything to do with your years of scheming. His surname is Ji. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with your enemy’s child?”
Nie Xu: “You may not understand him — but surely you understand his mother?”
Yu Qin’s hand paused mid-motion, and a bitter smile broke across his face.
“Flesh and blood of the same mother — I must admit, I lack her boldness. She was strong-willed from a young age, making friends across the four seas. So when she came back home and said she was going to marry Ji Changshou, I thought she’d lost her mind.”
Nie Xu: “You still supported her, though, didn’t you?”
“I did.” Yu Qin nodded. “But there hasn’t been a single day in all these years that I haven’t regretted it. She was too smart, and ruthless enough — ruthless to herself, and to her child as well…” Yu Qin couldn’t continue, looking at Nie Xu: “So, Mr. Nie, the reason I’m meeting with you alone today is to ask — the revenge you sought is nearly complete. If you intend to hurt him, especially by using ‘being together with him’ as your method, that is utterly despicable. I won’t allow you to act recklessly.”
This time, Nie Xu pushed off the sliding door and walked to sit across from Yu Qin.
He didn’t rush to say anything.
He didn’t even rush to ask why Yu Qin hadn’t returned all these years, or the reason for concealing his identity.
He simply took the teapot from Yu Qin’s hands, poured a cup, and — treating him truly as an elder — placed the tea before Yu Qin.
Then he spoke: “A promise of sincerity from me would be nothing but empty words. But the gratitude of having loved ones still alive — I have confirmed that on his behalf. Today, I can also make a solemn declaration. For the rest of my life, even if I were to commit the slightest act of harm against him, I, Nie Xu, would die a wretched death.”
Nie Xu’s tone wasn’t heavy, yet Yu Qin was stunned into silence.
Perhaps he had never imagined this man before him would say something like this.
Meanwhile, outside the door.
A teahouse staff member passed by.
Their voice was excited.
“Look, look, look! The Ji family’s Fourth Young Master has responded!”
“Dude, this is huge — the Ji family was secretly feeding him chronic poison??? Isn’t this the kind of plot that only belongs in soap operas???”
Inside the private room of the teahouse, two men separated by barely more than a decade in age exchanged a glance.
Neither spoke.
The silence itself seemed like an answer.
An answer to the question of who exactly was the one causing chaos at the drop of a hat.