Chapter Three: The Important Figure

Yang Yuanqing, Lin Weitian, Wang Yunfang, Zeng Rou, and Zeng Ou, after being politely asked to leave, did not hurry away. They wanted to see what kind of important figure could clear the area so decisively. After all, in China, very few have the authority to do so.

It was December, and the chilly wind brushed past them.

After a moment, an Audi A6 slowly pulled up, stopping in front of the seaside cottage. A man dressed as a security guard stepped out, then opened the right rear door. Next, a pair of strikingly handsome Martin boots stepped out of the car.

Clad in military green, with a resolute, sharply defined face, piercing eyes, and slightly graying hair, his face bore the marks of many hardships. He appeared to be in his fifties or sixties, yet his entire presence radiated an incredibly powerful vitality—stronger than that of a twenty-year-old youth.

Zeng Rou and Zeng Ou, merely ordinary university students, did not recognize him but found the elderly man remarkably handsome. They had only heard of charming middle-aged men before, but this was the first time they’d seen a dashing older gentleman.

Yang Yuanqing and Lin Weitian, however, were taken aback. Both had encountered this distinguished figure in certain circles. This was truly a man of great stature.

In a city, the highest official is called the Prefect, and this man was the Deputy Prefect. Throughout the entire province, very few held a position above him.

Although Yang Yuanqing and Lin Weitian were relatively wealthy, they were merely local tycoons of a county—insignificant among the merchants of Yangcheng. Comparing themselves to this dignitary was like night and day.

This was the Deputy Prefect!

Moreover, the Deputy Prefect seemed quite pleased, indicating he was not there to cause trouble. Could it be that this Deputy Prefect had some connection with Shen Ye? Wait—this Deputy Prefect’s surname was also Shen! Shen Ye’s surname was Shen too. No way.

At that moment, Yang Yuanqing felt a chill down his spine. In his investigation, Shen Ye was just an ordinary small business owner, a mediocre university graduate with no connections. So, he had dared to threaten Shen Ye directly, coveting the spices in his possession. But if Shen Ye was related to this Deputy Prefect Shen, then things were far from good.

If Shen Ye just uttered a word, the Deputy Prefect could issue an order, and Yang’s small enterprise could collapse in an instant.

Yang Yuanqing now regretted one thing: he should never have come today, nor foolishly threatened Shen Ye. It was a textbook case of courting disaster.

His calves trembled uncontrollably. Damn it!

Lin Weitian’s legs shook just as much, no better off than Yang Yuanqing. He also pondered the connection—the shared surname Shen might mean some familial relation. If they were indeed relatives, then if Shen Ye agreed to marry his daughter Xiaolei, he might even welcome the match. This was a chance to connect with the Deputy Prefect himself!

This was the Deputy Prefect!

...

Inside the seaside cottage, Shen Ye remained alert. Wen Xiuting looked somewhat dazed, seemingly realizing something. Her lips moved softly toward Shen Ye.

He beckoned, “Come here, stand by my side.”

Wen Xiuting obeyed and came closer.

Leaning close to her ear, Shen Ye whispered so that even a breath could fall on her delicate earlobe, “Stay in the farthest place for a while. This matter is mine alone; it has nothing to do with you. If this is truly an official investigation, they wouldn’t drag an uninvolved person like you into it.”

Wen Xiuting thought it made sense. Standing beside Shen Ye would only divide his attention protecting her. So, she quietly moved to a distant spot, standing there nervously.

At that moment, the cottage door opened. A strikingly handsome elderly man in military green, wearing Martin boots, entered with steady steps.

The air around him was thick with vitality.

Shen Ye immediately assessed that this man's strength surpassed any expert he had ever met—surpassing even the ruthless Du Sha, Nangong Zhu, Tong Chuchu, the Monk Jie Rou, and Seer Daoren. Yet, upon closer inspection, the old man’s face seemed vaguely familiar, as if Shen Ye had seen him somewhere before.

The handsome old man smiled and pointed at Wen Xiuting. “Take Miss Wen outside. I have some matters to discuss with Xiao Shen.”

“Yes, sir.” A policeman nodded and escorted Wen Xiuting out, who complied silently, remembering Shen Ye’s warning.

“You all should leave as well,” the old man said.

The policemen hesitated, “But we need to protect you.”

“Get lost! Protect me? How many people in all of Yangcheng can protect me? Get lost, get lost!” the old man snapped impatiently.

The policemen exchanged helpless glances and obediently withdrew.

Now, only Shen Ye and the handsome elderly man remained in the seaside cottage.

“Who exactly are you?” Shen Ye finally asked, curiosity overcoming him.

“Who am I? To you, I have three identities,” the old man smiled, unhurried. He pulled a cigarette from a pack of Red Double Happiness, lit it, and savored a puff. “The first identity: Deputy Prefect.”

“Deputy Prefect?” Shen Ye was startled; such a position was indeed very high—a true dignitary.

“The title Deputy Prefect is mainly for confusing outsiders, just a nominal role. My real position is the second identity: Captain of Special Operations Team C.”

“Captain of Special Operations Team C? What’s that?” Shen Ye was deeply shocked. With his current strength, even unleashing a powerful strike, he might be slightly stronger than a squad leader, but a team captain would be far superior. Simply put, Shen Ye was unlikely to be a match for this handsome old man.

Outwardly, Shen Ye feigned ignorance.

But in truth, his right hand was already gripping the two small weapon balls embedded in his gloves, muscles tensed, ready for combat.

“Pretending not to understand what I’m saying but already tensing your muscles to fight? So naive,” the old man laughed heartily. “If not for my third identity, I would have captured you long ago.”

“Foolish brat,” the old man sneered.

“Brat?” Shen Ye was even more bewildered.

“Because you’re actually my grandson,” the old man said, smoking leisurely, like watching a good show. “Shocked?”

Shen Ye shook his head. “Impossible. My grandfather died five years ago. How could I suddenly have another grandfather? Don’t talk nonsense. Besides, my grandfather didn’t look much like you.”

Just after saying this, Shen Ye froze.

From the moment the handsome old man entered, Shen Ye had sensed familiarity. Now, examining him closely, he saw the man bore a six or seven-tenths resemblance to his grandfather.

Only, his grandfather had always looked like a small, ordinary old man, whereas this old man was too handsome, too imposing—their temperaments were entirely different.

No way. This plot is too absurd!

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