VESSEL - Extinction Countdown 933: Three-Inch Pact

Yi Qing hastened after Ye Shisan, her steps faltering over uneven ground until she reached his side, only to freeze in dismay.

Ye Shisan crouched at the boundary where the grove met a desolate clearing, his silence heavy with unspoken grief.

Yi Qing’s gaze swept the freshly leveled expanse, clearly once part of the grove, which stretched east to west in a rectangle. They’d approached from the western edge, but Ye Shisan’s hidden photo was buried in the east—now razed to a barren waste, coated in a thick layer of lime.

Yi Qing’s heart sank. She watched Ye Shisan squat, staring blankly at the emptiness.

Hong Lin, the black cat, sidled up, rubbing against his leg. “Daddy, some things are fated…”

Yi Qing also offered words of solace. “Don’t worry. Maybe You Long’er and Vanilla will turn up new leads…”

Yet Ye Shisan, though he understood in his heart, could not quell the aching disappointment within, for he sought not only a prescription’s clue but the memory of Ye Dongsheng, the grandfather who raised and mended him.

In the heavy silence, a bellow shattered the stillness.

“You lot, freeze where you stand!”

They spun around to see the old guard charging toward them, flanked by two men—one chubby, likely a foreman, the other in uniform, probably safety staff.

The old man’s voice roared with indignation, “Totally lawless! Posing as cops? I bet you’re Pang Old Bandit’s goons, stirring trouble!”

Yi Qing yanked Ye Shisan up. “Run!”

He stumbled after her through the trees, only to halt at the sight of a dozen workers, clubs in hand, poised like hunters by the jeep.

Blocked ahead, chased behind—looks like there's no escape today.

Hong Lin leaped onto Ye Shisan’s shoulder, her hiss seething with fury. “Heaven’s blind! Daddy, shall your daughter kill those meddling pests for you!”

Before Ye Shisan could reply, Yi Qing glared. “Don’t escalate! Killing them would unleash chaos!”

As they spoke, the old guard, stormed up with his two men, his voice thundering: “Hey! Still trying to run? You two youngsters look decent enough, working for Pang Old Bandit! Today, I, Old Lu will school you proper—Get ‘em!”

At his command, the workers descended on the jeep, their clubs hammering relentlessly, reducing the costly vehicle to a battered husk in mere moments.

Unable to hold back, Ye Shisan stepped forward. “We’re not here for trouble. This was my school—I left town over twenty years ago. Can’t I return to see it?”

Before the old man could respond, Ye Shisan poured out vivid memories of the school and its surrounding streets from decades ago, proving his local roots.

His earnest, near-accurate recounting furrowed Old Lu’s brow, and with a raised hand, he signaled the workers to cease their onslaught on the jeep.

Yi Qing flashed her badge, apologizing sincerely: She was a genuine officer, but shouldn’t have used her title to barge in.

The old man stayed his hand as the foreman-like man stepped forward, scrutinizing her credentials before huddling with the uniformed safety officer. After a hushed exchange, they nodded respectfully to him:

“Boss Lu, her badge is authentic. Their tale isn’t wholly candid, but what they’ve shared rings true.”

The old man, known as Boss Lu, narrowed his keen eyes, appraising Ye Shisan and Yi Qing with suspicion. “You really here to revisit old haunts?”

Driven by occupational instinct, Yi Qing began a rehearsed excuse, but Ye Shisan’s firm grip halted her.

“Revisiting’s only part of it. Actually, we’re here to fetch something.”

Yi Qing shot him a look, huffing. That was classified—why casually tell an unrelated old man?

Yet Ye Shisan recounted he came here for a photo buried over twenty years ago, which linked to his past, carefully omitting the more outlandish truths to shield Fireseed Force’s secrets.

To the old man, Ye Shisan was a man on the cusp of middle age, chasing a photo of his grandfather, seeking roots in his hometown.

His piercing stare unnerved Ye Shisan until his expression softened, and he dismissed his men with a wave: “Alright, that’s all for now. Get back to work.”

Ye Shisan and Yi Qing exhaled in relief, though Yi Qing looked utterly frustrated at the sight of the wrecked jeep.

Lu Zhengwu beckoned. “You two, come with me.”

With the misunderstanding cleared, they hesitated—where now? Ye Shisan glanced at the burly, club-wielding workers behind, then nodded to Yi Qing:

Let’s just follow. A boss posing as a guard must have his reasons.

The two of them, along with a cat, slowly followed the old man deeper into the construction site.

Lu Zhengwu, in his sixties, was lean and tough, each step imbued with steadfast strength. His measured, articulate speech, clear logic, inadvertently earned Ye Shisan’s quiet admiration.

The old man’s surname was Lu, with the full name Lu Zhengwu. He was a native-born resident of Pang Family Town. Lu Zhengwu lost his son in young, then roamed Eastern Land for over two decades, trading. Enduring trials to forge a billion-yuan empire, earning renown across the province.

Aging, Lu Zhengwu yearned to return to his roots, settling in Pang Family Town to invest in a legacy for his twilight years.

Yet the town’s sinister undercurrents surpassed all he’d known. His company, bolstered by sterling reputation, secured the land’s development rights through fair bids, only to incur the wrath of the Pang Clan.

They demanded he surrender the contract; when he stood firm, they unleashed a campaign of intimidation, dispatching thugs to wreak havoc on the site.

Several workers suffered injuries, costing Lu Zhengwu dearly in compensation, while fear of the Pang Clan’s reprisals left the site desperately short of labor.

Yet Lu Zhengwu was quite a stubborn old soul, his years roaming the land instilling a fierce belief in justice—he’d not bow to evil.

These past days, he’d disguised himself as a guard, vigilantly patrolling the site, for a man of his stature humiliated by thugs would tarnish the local government’s name.

Ye Shisan, impressed, flashed a thumbs-up: “your grit’s unmatched! I’d have yielded—crossing them invites endless trouble.”

Lu Zhengwu sighed heavily: “True, trouble abounds. But I fight for honor—how can our proud town fall to such scum?”

The group reached a weathered shed, where Lu Zhengwu turned the key, and Ye Shisan’s eyes lit up instantly!

Inside, meticulously cleaned relics were stacked high—foundation stones, a copper toad for anchoring piles, jars of yellow wine hidden by past residents, and even a century-old stone tablet.

Lu Zhengwu explained, “Sometimes construction unearths relics—people’s heirlooms, hidden treasures. I have workers gather them here; unclaimed, they go to the government. Look around—You might find what you seek.”

Ye Shisan gave Hong Lin’s head a softly tap. “Your turn.”