The faculty dormitory at BS University.
Xu Yangeng had been sitting in front of his computer for three straight days.
His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Another layer of stubble had grown across his face, a dark bluish shadow that made him look several years older.
And yet, he had written less than a third of the business plan.
It wasn’t because he had been slacking off.
Quite the opposite—he had spent nearly every waking moment of those three days working on it.
But for some reason, the more he wrote, the more he felt that something was wrong.
Market analysis, competitor comparisons, business models, financial projections… Every time he finished a paragraph, he had to stop to look up information, find data, and run the numbers.
Yet some things simply couldn’t be found through public channels.
Take the technical specifications of future competitors, for instance. The companies that would eventually become serious contenders did not seem to exist yet, and the information available online was scarce—mostly vague concepts that were incredibly difficult to write about.
What frustrated him most wasn’t that he couldn’t write it.
It was the question of whether any of it was useful at all.
That girl, Miss Liu, had said investors would want to see these things.
But for all anyone knew, she was merely an undergraduate who hadn’t even graduated yet.
Even if she came from a wealthy family, even if she really took the business plan home to show her parents, did that mean they would definitely invest?
Not necessarily, right?
The more Xu Yangeng thought about it, the more he felt like an idiot.
He was Xu Yangeng, a professor at BS University and once a doctoral supervisor at Teidu University. Yet now he was holed up in his dormitory, racking his brain over a business plan whose usefulness he wasn’t even sure of, like an elementary school student preparing for an exam.
And while writing the plan, he had vaguely sensed an “invisible wall” appearing inexplicably in front of him, blocking his way forward.
No matter how hard he tried to break through it, he couldn’t.
“Damn it, I’m done with this!”
Xu Yangeng slammed his hand down on the keyboard and leaned back in his chair, thoroughly exasperated.
Just then, the phone on his desk rang.
Xu Yangeng glanced at the caller ID. It was an unfamiliar number.
He was already in a foul mood, so he hung up immediately.
But the number called again and again.
Irritated, he finally pressed the answer button.
“Hello?”
A hoarse voice came from the other end.
“Old Xu, it’s me.”
Xu Yangeng froze for several seconds before suddenly realizing who it was.
“Zhou Ming? Old Zhou? You finally decided to call me, huh?”
“Where the hell have you been these past six months? I couldn’t reach you, and no one could find you. I thought you’d died somewhere!”
Zhou Ming was his high school classmate, and one of the few people over the years who had continued to support him—his “investor,” so to speak.
Though this so-called investor had lent him only fifty thousand yuan in total, spread out over several occasions.
Still, Xu Yangeng had always remembered that friendship.
“Old Xu, listen to me.”
Zhou Ming’s voice was urgent. He had no intention of exchanging pleasantries or reminiscing.
“I don’t have much time. I’ll keep this brief.”
Xu Yangeng’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favor.”
“Tell me.”
“I have something in my possession. It’s very important. If I stop contacting you, go to the address I’m about to send you and find it.”
The more Xu Yangeng listened, the more uneasy he became.
“Old Zhou, what the hell are you up to? Why does this sound like you’re entrusting someone with your final wishes… No, I mean, making arrangements for after your death? Where are you now?”
“Don’t ask. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
“Then I’ll call the police for you.”
“Don’t call the police!”
“It’s not time yet. The waters here are too deep. Calling the police now will only alert them. Listen to me. If I haven’t contacted you after a week, take that thing to the police—and, preferably, make sure it reaches the higher authorities.”
As a university professor and doctoral supervisor, Xu Yangeng still knew a few people, despite having spent the past two years borrowing money everywhere and being avoided like the plague.
“What exactly are you talking about? Why do I have to find someone and pass something on to the higher authorities? Explain it to me clearly—”
“Beep, beep, beep…”
Before he could finish, the line went dead.
Xu Yangeng froze for a second, then immediately called back. A recorded message informed him that the number he had dialed was switched off.
He hung up and tried again. Three or four times in a row, he got the same message.
His unease grew stronger by the second.
Hadn’t Zhou Ming said he was going south to conduct an interview?
Why had he suddenly called with something like this?
Xu Yangeng couldn’t help thinking of the many “insane” things Zhou Ming had done over the years.
When exposing the gutter-oil industry, Zhou Ming had staked out a black-market workshop for seven days and seven nights, nearly getting mauled to death by the owner’s guard dogs.
When investigating a pyramid scheme, he had disguised himself as a new recruit and stayed inside for half a month. He had been brainwashed, beaten, and stripped of his phone. He was given only one meal a day.
In the end, he escaped through a second-floor window with secretly recorded footage, breaking two ribs in the fall.
Xu Yangeng had always felt that he and Zhou Ming were the same at their core—both hopeless idealists.
They were the kind of people others regarded as “madmen,” yet who refused to turn back no matter what.
The difference was that Xu Yangeng had paid the price by burying himself under a mountain of debt he could never repay.
Zhou Ming, on the other hand, might have paid with his life.
The ominous feeling in Xu Yangeng’s heart grew stronger and stronger…
That man had clearly run into trouble unlike anything he had faced before. Or perhaps the people behind the subject of his investigation were simply too powerful—powerful enough that he had to prepare in advance for the worst.
But there was nothing Xu Yangeng could do now.
All he could do was wait…
Wait for Zhou Ming to contact him and let him know he was safe.
