Chapter 82: Who Is Fan Wencheng

Since Shi Yuan Tu had developed the blueprint together with Liu Changjie, it was possible that Liu Changjie was involved as well. If so, Shi Ping would not be willing to let him go either.

Ye Qiu’s motivation for purchasing the land was partly due to the laboratory and partly to test Liu Changjie. If Liu Changjie was involved, then by keeping an eye on him, it would naturally be possible to catch Shi Ping.

“Mr. Ye, this is Mr. Liu,” Xue Yishou introduced them and quietly exited the private room. He was a clever man, well aware of which matters he ought to listen to and which he should avoid getting entangled in.

“Mr. Ye, you want to buy that plot on the outskirts?” Liu Changjie went straight to the point.

Ye Qiu nodded, sizing up Liu Changjie. He was a man of about forty-five, with a full beard, lion-like brows, fierce eyes, and an aura of authority that radiated without anger.

“Mr. Ye, I won’t ask what you plan to do with it, but I must make one thing clear: though it’s cheap, that means the property prices are low. Besides, who would really want to buy a house in such a remote area? There are too many bamboo groves and forests. Even if you take over, you may not make money. Don’t blame me if things go badly.”

It seemed Liu Changjie was unaware of the laboratory.

“I know. I already researched it before arranging this meeting,” Ye Qiu said with curiosity. “Since you know the houses may not sell, why did you invest?”

“I was too trusting of Shi Yuan Tu,” Liu Changjie replied. “Besides the environment, he swore the city government planned to turn the area into a scenic spot to attract tourists. I believed him.”

“Is someone pulling strings from behind?” Ye Qiu asked. Liu Changjie’s reputation in Linhai was considerable; he wouldn’t have trusted Shi Yuan Tu so easily unless a powerful intermediary was involved.

That was exactly the information Ye Qiu sought.

Liu Changjie gave a thumbs-up. “Mr. Ye, you’re sharp. There is someone behind it—Fan Wencheng. Do you know him?”

“I do,” Ye Qiu nodded. “We had dinner together just a few days ago.” Then, realization dawned. “Is it him? But he’s a broker; he may not carry enough weight.”

“He doesn’t, but the person he brought in does,” Liu Changjie leaned forward. “Mr. Ye, you’ve returned from abroad; you should know Deepsea Corporation.”

“Yes, I do,” Ye Qiu replied calmly.

“Fan Wencheng brought in Deepsea Corporation. With foreign investment involved, it couldn’t possibly be a rumor—but damn it, it was.”

The memory made Liu Changjie want to curse.

“So you met Deepsea Corporation’s senior executives?”

“The head of Deepsea’s China division. He was in Linhai just a few days ago, but I wasn’t paying attention and he slipped away yesterday.”

“He escaped?”

Liu Changjie sighed helplessly. “He did—ran off with Shi Yuan Tu. Shi Yuan Tu didn’t escape, just vanished; as for Deepsea’s China head, he’s really gone.”

Hmm? There was still Fan Wencheng.

“Mr. Liu, if you’re willing to sell, I’ll take over the development zone. We’ll sign the contract later. I have something to attend to, so I’ll be going.”

“All right. If you’re willing to take it, I’ll sell. I’m just happy someone wants it, and judging by your expression, you’re not pretending. I won’t worry about it.”

Leaving Linhai Hotel, Xue Yishou waited at the entrance.

“Xue Yishou, contact Fan Wencheng and have him come out.”

Though unsure why Ye Qiu wanted this, Xue Yishou dialed Fan Wencheng’s number. The phone rang for a long time with no answer; he tried several more times, still nothing.

“Mr. Ye, no one’s answering,” Xue Yishou said, frustrated. When had Fan Wencheng ever been so unreliable? As a broker, not answering the phone was unthinkable.

“Do you know where he lives?”

Xue Yishou was momentarily stunned by Ye Qiu’s insistence, then hurriedly replied, “Being a broker makes money, but he knows too many secrets. He’s very cautious. I only know of one address, but I can’t guarantee he’s home.”

“Let’s go check it out.”

“Right away,” Xue Yishou said, quickly calling a car to take Ye Qiu to Fan Wencheng’s residence.

It was an old neighborhood. The buildings were aged and dilapidated, and aside from holidays, young people were rarely seen.

“He lives up on the ninth floor,” Xue Yishou complained as he led the way. “These old buildings don’t even have elevators. I wonder what Fan Wencheng was thinking.”

Ye Qiu surveyed the surroundings: two towers connected. If anything went wrong, he could escape by jumping from the rooftop to the other side.

Fan Wencheng’s caution hadn’t harmed Ye Qiu, but it had exhausted Xue Yishou, who was panting heavily by the time they reached the ninth floor, barely able to speak as he pointed to the door of 901. “Here…”

Ye Qiu stepped forward and knocked. There was no answer for a long while. He thought no one was inside but, refusing to give up, twisted the doorknob.

Creak.

The door opened—it hadn’t been locked.

“Come on, let’s look inside.”

Ye Qiu signaled Xue Yishou and led the way.

It was a two-bedroom apartment, just over fifty square meters. The living room had only a sofa and a wall-mounted TV, and beyond that, two closed bedroom doors.

It was, in truth, a comfortable place for its size.

“This Fan Wencheng is unbelievable,” Xue Yishou said, finally catching his breath and heading straight for Fan Wencheng’s bedroom.

Inside, there was only a bed and a wardrobe.

“Not here?” Xue Yishou muttered, opening the other bedroom door.

He nearly vomited.

The scene was revolting.

Fan Wencheng’s corpse, judging by the stench, had been dead for at least a day.

His wound, like Shi Yuan Tu’s, pierced straight through the chest, with green viscous fluid around it.

“Mr. Ye, this…”

Xue Yishou was utterly stunned. Fan Wencheng was dead.

“Call the cleaner,” Ye Qiu sighed, realizing even Fan Wencheng’s clue was lost.

Only one person remained.

Deepsea Corporation’s China division head.

“Yunyan, look up the China head of Deepsea Corporation.”

“Yes, Master.”

Yunyan was just about to report the information, when suddenly, Fan Wencheng’s door was violently pushed open.

A group of louts swaggered in.

The man who pushed open the door had a face covered in scars, with a prominent gash across his forehead.

He strode in arrogantly, shoulders cocked, glancing at the two men, nostrils flared: “Which one of you is Fan Wencheng?”