Patching Vulnerabilities

At the current moment in Dajiang Corporation.

Jiang Beihe was still dealing with the discrepancies in the accounts.

This was at the request of Chu Lintian. Dajiang Corporation was a publicly listed company.

After going public, the stock value would rise rapidly, but shareholders would become more dispersed, and profit distributions would undergo changes.

The holes Jiang Beihe had created were nothing more than moving money from the left hand to the right—except the left hand was the company, and the right hand was himself.

No matter how meticulously the accounts were handled, there would always be loopholes.

Since Chu Lintian intended to take full control of Dajiang Corporation, she naturally had to patch up all the problematic areas.

So, these past few days, Jiang Beihe had been doing exactly that.

Even though it was still a holiday, he remained in the office.

There weren’t many people working in the company, but his unremarkable secretary was also on duty. As Jiang Beihe’s trusted confidante, she had been involved in many of his shady dealings and now had to help cover them up.

Just then—ding.

The elevator doors opened.

A maintenance worker in blue overalls, carrying a toolbox, stepped out.

Because of the holiday, the front desk of the executive office was unmanned.

So he walked straight to the secretary’s office.

"Was there a report about a leaking air conditioner in the CEO’s office?"

The man looked honest and simple.

After confirming, the secretary let him in.

Jiang Beihe was still poring over the account books, not even lifting his head.

He paid no attention to the maintenance worker entering to fix the equipment.

Once the secretary left, the man set down his tools and began carefully inspecting the air conditioner’s leak.

Jiang Beihe still didn’t look up.

The man gave him a puzzled glance, then, after packing up his tools, pulled out a pistol from the toolbox.

He walked straight toward Jiang Beihe.

"Mr. Jiang, someone asked me to pass on a message."

Jiang Beihe raised his head and immediately found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

Though he was under Lin Mo’s soul control, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be terrified at the sight of a gun.

So he couldn’t help but ask, "Who are you? Who sent you?"

The assassin didn’t answer. Instead, he recited the words his client had insisted he deliver to Jiang Beihe.

"Jiang Beihe, you scum. For the sake of some cheap woman, you’re willing to hand over everything you own? You might as well die and leave the money behind!"

With that, he pulled the trigger.

But the moment he did, the gun jammed—completely unresponsive.

Just as the assassin was about to check it, he noticed the suppressor at the muzzle seemed to have been wiped away by something.

There was no time to dwell on it. He tried to reload, but the entire pistol suddenly fell apart in his hands.

"Damn it, Third Qian’s goods are always trash."

Still oblivious, he yanked out a dagger from his waist and lunged at Jiang Beihe.

A sigh echoed through the air.

"Seriously? How can someone be this stupid?"

Before the man could reach Jiang Beihe, a hand grabbed him by the collar and yanked him backward, sending him crashing to the floor.

Lin Mo materialized out of thin air, stepping on the man’s head.

After leaving the Chu family, Lin Mo had teleported straight to Dajiang Corporation.

If Chu Lintian had been targeted for assassination, then Jiang Beihe was likely in danger too.

A few months ago, Jiang Beihe’s death wouldn’t have mattered. But now? The stock transfer was still in progress, and all the cover-up measures were underway.

In short, it wasn’t Jiang Beihe’s time to die yet.

And he couldn’t die suddenly.

So Lin Mo grinned and said, "Buddy, this guy’s going to die—but not today. Looks like your mission’s a failure."

With that, Lin Mo used soul control again.

Though the assassin was just a freelancer, the message he’d been ordered to deliver made it clear—Jiang Beihe’s wife had sent him.

A loose end.

Lin Mo had known Jiang Beihe was married, but when recounting his misdeeds, Jiang Beihe had never mentioned his wife.

Lin Mo hadn’t planned to wipe out his entire family.

But now that his wife had sent an assassin after him? Clearly, she wasn’t a good person either.

And if she wasn’t a good person…

Well, the whole family could go to hell.

Lin Mo, armed with an address, headed straight to Jiang Beihe’s luxury villa.

As the chairman and CEO of a publicly traded company, owning a villa in Goat City wasn’t anything extraordinary.

At this moment, Yang Jinling was brimming with excitement.

She’d sensed something was off months ago.

That bastard husband of hers used to come home at least once or twice a week, if only to keep up appearances.

But for months now, he hadn’t returned even once.

And her informant in the company had told her—Jiang Beihe was transferring his shares to Chu Lintian.

The moment she heard that, she knew something was wrong. Transferring shares to Chu Lintian?!

Why her? What right did she have?!

That big-breasted fox must have seduced her Jiang Beihe, tricked him into transferring his assets, and then planned to divorce her!

She couldn’t let that happen. So when she stumbled upon a hitman-for-hire website on the study’s computer, a plan formed in her mind.

And today, that plan would come to fruition.

Yang Jinling lounged in her bath, smug. She’d changed into a silk nightgown, and though age was creeping up on her, she refused to acknowledge it, still convinced of her eternal youth.

As she approached the vanity to apply makeup before heading out shopping, she suddenly froze.

In the lavishly decorated master bedroom, sunlight streamed through the windows, illuminating the room even without the lights on.

Yet, on the sofa by the window, a figure sat, casually holding a bottle of vodka.

Yang Jinling’s heart lurched. She stumbled back several steps, pressing herself against the wall for a shred of security.

"Wh-who are you?!"

Her eyes darted toward the door, ready to bolt.

But Lin Mo merely raised a hand. Yang Jinling’s body lifted into the air, her mouth forced open by an unseen force.

Terror twisted her face, but she was powerless.

"If you’d done nothing, you’d have been fine after Jiang Beihe’s death. But I didn’t expect you to be this ruthless."

Lin Mo couldn’t be bothered with further explanations. He tossed the vodka bottle toward her.

The cap twisted off midair, and the clear liquid floated before pouring straight down Yang Jinling’s throat.

"Friendly reminder—drinking hard liquor right after a hot bath is a great way to trigger a brain hemorrhage.

What? You don’t have one? Let me give you one."

Lin Mo snapped his fingers.

Yang Jinling’s body convulsed before collapsing to the floor.

Had there been a brain scanner, it would have shown multiple blood vessels in her brain bursting simultaneously.

Her mind flooded with heat.

At over fifty years old, Yang Jinling was now a "hot-blooded" middle-aged woman in the most literal sense.

Lin Mo remained seated on the sofa, watching as Yang Jinling twitched on the ground like freshly butchered meat.

Until, finally, she died.