Chapter Three: Exposure

Shen Ye felt a twinge of suspicion in his heart, but outwardly he remained composed, smiling easily. “Director Zhang, may I ask what you wanted to discuss with me?”

“How calm, what acting, truly impressive.” Director Zhang scrutinized Shen Ye for a long moment, then suddenly began to clap, slow and deliberate. “For a student fresh out of university to display such composure—truly remarkable. However, one of my men happened to want a little snack today. He bought a few of those special dried salted fish downstairs, and in one of them, he found a note.”

Fat Dragon, who stood to Director Zhang’s left, took out a crumpled piece of paper. On it was written: “I’m being held captive by a pyramid scheme gang, about five hundred meters directly opposite the New Entertainment Hotel, on the fourth floor. Please call 110 and notify the police to rescue me. Thank you!”

It was the very note Shen Ye had dropped that morning.

Shen Ye’s heart leapt, but he immediately feigned outrage. “Who’s the idiot behind this? Here we are, about to make real money, and someone goes to the police, thinking they’re trapped? Pathetic. Some people are just hopeless. Whoever did this needs to be taught a lesson.”

Director Zhang smiled, lighting a cigarette with deliberate leisure. “I asked Old Ding downstairs. The dried fish on their balcony were only hung out to dry this morning. So, this note must have been dropped today. Judging by the location, it was almost certainly dropped from the restroom—probably using a thread to lower it down.”

“That takes time.”

“There were plenty of people using the restroom this morning, but only for a quick stop—no way anyone could pull this off in under a minute. Only one person took longer: you. I checked with Gaozi, who was watching you, and you spent just over three minutes there.”

“So, the only person who could have done this—is you.” Director Zhang sneered.

“Shen, I have to admit, I’m impressed. When you first joined our organization, you resisted a bit, but then you pretended to fall in line, acting completely immersed in our pyramid scheme. You nearly fooled me.”

“And you concocted a brilliant plan—using a thread to lower the note from the fourth floor into the dried fish on the third floor, hoping someone would eat it and call the police for you.”

“If Fat Dragon hadn’t wanted a snack today and bought the dried fish downstairs, you just might have succeeded.”

“I’ve been running this operation for years, but I’ve never met someone as clever as you. Well done.” Director Zhang did not stint on his praise.

Since he’d been discovered, Shen Ye dropped the act and offered a wry, almost carefree smile, with a hint of resignation. “Too bad my luck ran out. The plan was intricate, but still failed. Yes, it was me. Do what you want.”

Director Zhang flicked off his cigarette ash, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “I’ve been in this game a long time. I have a reputation.”

“You try to play me, you pay the price.” Director Zhang’s smile was cold as he gestured to the thugs behind him. “Teach him a lesson.”

The group—Black Panther, Blackie, Fat Dragon, and Two Clubs—lunged at Shen Ye, faces twisted with malice, fists and boots raining down on him relentlessly.

Shen Ye, sensing the situation, dropped to the ground and curled into a ball, letting the blows land on his back. It was the best way to minimize the damage.

In the underworld, when you lose, you take it.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

He felt a storm of pain, as if caught in a violent tempest. After what felt like an eternity, the beating finally ceased.

Director Zhang’s voice drifted to him as if from a great distance. “Kid, I’ll give you seven days. Bring me one hundred thousand yuan. Otherwise, in seven days, I’ll have my men give you another warm welcome. The money won’t be taken for nothing—you’ll get a share. You can bring in new recruits. Otherwise—well, you know.”

Then came another command from Director Zhang. “Take him back to his room.”

…

The old dormitory room was about twenty square meters, with a communal bed.

Such arrangements could sleep more than a dozen people. The leaders of the pyramid scheme enjoyed better conditions; regular members had it rough, forced to share beds in crowded rooms.

It was just after three in the afternoon.

Most members were in the large classroom, listening intently to the lectures. Only Shen Ye lay on the communal bed.

His face was swollen and bruised, his body covered in wounds from the beating. Even the lightest touch or a shift in position sent a searing pain through him.

“Damn it! I’ve been dealt a bad hand this time. But as long as I’m alive, there will be a day for payback.” At his core, Shen Ye possessed a fierce determination, believing deeply in one truth: No matter how poor you are, as long as you live, you’ll get your chance.

He was deep in thought, plotting his escape from the old dormitory and ways to take revenge on Director Zhang.

Suddenly, he felt a strange warmth in his pocket.

He took out what was inside and discovered a crescent-shaped ornament on his keychain, stained with red blood, now emitting a faint white glow.

Back in university, he’d often spent nights in internet cafes.

One evening, on the way to the café with his roommates, they passed the night market near campus. There, a lovely young woman was selling trinkets. She was tall and had long, fair legs that drew the eyes of every passerby.

His roommates bought a few things, and he, on a whim, picked up a moon-shaped ornament. The woman had laughed and said, “They say this was found in an ancient tomb.”

Shen Ye had laughed as well. “Which dynasty made plastic trinkets? I’d love to hear that story.”

The woman had laughed along with him.

It was cheap—just nine yuan ninety. He’d bought it without a second thought.

After being forced into the pyramid scheme, all his valuables—ID card, phone—were confiscated. But nobody cared about such a cheap ornament, so it was left with him.

He’d had it for years. Could it really be some kind of treasure? Was it reacting to his blood?

Sensing something strange, Shen Ye quickly stuffed the ornament back into his pocket to keep it hidden from others.

He made his way to the restroom—the only place without surveillance—then took out the plastic moon. Its white glow intensified, then suddenly condensed into a beam of light that shot straight into Shen Ye.