NOVEL WEB Chapter 18: Every Good Thing Comes from a Well-Planned Plan
Once Shen Zeming exited the meeting room, the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime onto the bustling main floor.
As his shoes clicked across the gleaming marble tiles, all the employees immediately snapped to attention, lowering their heads in a deferential display of respect. Their movements were synchronized like a well-choreographed dance.
"Thank you for the visit, Young Master," they intoned in unison, suits crisp and ties perfectly knotted as they gathered around him. Shen Zeming's brows arched briefly in surprise at the sudden display, but he quickly regained his composure.
A casual smile played across his chiseled features as he waved them off with an elegant flick of his wrist.
Outside the main glass doors, bathed in the bright sunlight, a bald, bulky man stood like an immovable boulder amid several other imposing figures in crisp black suits.
Shen Zeming's gaze passed over them dispassionately as he made his way towards the idling car - a sleek black SUV with tinted windows, the same one that had ferried him earlier.
"Young Master..." The bald leader began in a gruff baritone as he approached, but Shen Zeming silenced him with a raised hand.
"Not here," Shen Zeming stated simply, his tone brooking no argument. He slid into the plush leather interior of the waiting SUV with practiced ease.
This time, the bald man himself took the driver's seat. The vehicle purred to life and slowly pulled away from the company parking lot, tires crunching on the gravel as it exited through the arched main gate.
...
As soon as they merged into the stream of city traffic, Shen Zeming leaned back comfortably, resting his chin on his palm. "Speak," he ordered, his voice a low rumble.
The bald man's eyes flickered to the rearview mirror briefly before he began.
"As you instructed, I've found the person responsible for sabotaging your cars. Here's the suspect." As he spoke, one of the suited men beside him produced a file folder, handing it to Shen Zeming with a practiced motion.
The scent of fresh printer ink wafted up as Shen Zeming opened the folder, revealing photos and neatly stapled documents.
"He's Zhou Gang, the mechanic who regularly services your cars. He's been responsible for their maintenance every week." The bald man's voice was a low rasp, like sandpaper being dragged across concrete.
Shen Zeming's gaze focused on the photo of a middle-aged man with laugh lines etched around his eyes and an honest, genuine smile.
"Lives alone, 30 years old, no girlfriend, but passionate about sports cars," the bald man continued in a clipped cadence. "He currently works two jobs - your private mechanic and the owner of a small garage you might know. He's the boss there."
The leather upholstery creaked faintly as Shen Zeming shifted position, stroking his chin contemplatively. "Hmm, why now? Uncle Zhou has had plenty of opportunities," he murmured, eyes narrowing fractionally as he studied the file intently.
"Based on the evidence we've gathered and from speaking with Zhou Gang's employees, he's been acting strangely since last week," the suited man who had handed over the documents chimed in. His voice took on a conspiratorial hush as he leaned forward slightly.
"He's been shouting constantly, raving like a madman, and even resorting to violence - essentially destroying his own beloved garage with his bare hands."
Shen Zeming's lips pressed into a tight line as he digested this new information. "Forget it. Good job," he said with a curt nod.
"Where is he now?" His gaze slid back to the world passing by outside the tinted windows, the glaring sun reflecting off the skyscraper glass.
"He's locked up in his garage as we speak, Young Master. Our men have the place surrounded, maintaining a round-the-clock watch," the suited man reported crisply.
His expression remained stoic, but his eyes kept darting towards Shen Zeming's impassive face, as if gauging his reaction.
"Good. You've done well." Shen Zeming's full lips curved into an approving smile as he inclined his head. But just as he opened his mouth to issue further instructions, his phone vibrated insistently in his pocket.
He pulled it out unhurriedly, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed the unknown number. With a casual flick of his thumb, he answered the call and put it on speaker. The car's hushed interior was instantly filled with a familiar sultry, flirtatious voice.
"Yo, Brother Shen!" The playful lilt was unmistakable - it was An Rong, the same woman who had called him to the police station not too long ago.
"This Little Sister is feeling hungry tonight. I wonder if Brother Shen has time to accompany me for drinks and a moonlit view?"
Hearing her suggestive words, Shen Zeming's perfectly groomed eyebrows arched. His gaze slid to the tinted windows, where sun still shining brightly.
"Well, it depends. I'm a busy person. Bye." With that succinct response and a casual smile playing about his lips, he muted the call, then ended it decisively.
"Now, I have a new task for you," Shen Zeming stated, already pulling up something on his phone. He angled the screen to show the men in the car. "I want you to investigate everything - background, relationships, skills, and also arrival time. Keep constant surveillance."
One of the suited men leaned in, squinting at the name on the display. "Li Yue?" he asked in a confused tone, the furrow between his brows deepening. "But pardon me, Young Master, there are thousands of people across China with the Li family name..."
Shifting his attention, Shen Zeming's fingers danced across the phone's screen, redialing An Rong's number with a practiced flick. As the ringing tone echoed through the luxurious cabin, he turned his attention to his subordinate with a casual arrogance.
"Well," he began, his deep voice a low purr. "He's a Mercenary King - a mercenary who will kill anyone for the right price, of course. And now, that terrifying figure has come to China."
The words seemed to drain the air from the car. The suited men exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions clouded with confusion at Shen Zeming's statement.
Meanwhile, the call had been connected for a while, but An Rong remained uncharacteristically silent on the other end. Shen Zeming's lips curved into an indulgent smile as he spoke into the silence.
"I just checked my schedule, and I'm free," he purred silkily. "Text me the location."