Frighten the Monkey by Beating the Grass

Three days later.

Top-floor office, Yuanlong Technology.

Mo Qingli’s intelligence network spread like a vast fishing net cast into the ocean of information.

An overwhelming amount of data was hauled in.

The data was categorized, tagged, and summarized, then piled before Lu Chenyuan.

Like an insurmountable mountain.

Every lead seemed to point toward Li Xiujian, yet each one terminated at a dead end—clean, untraceable.

Li Xiujian was too cautious.

Decades of meticulous planning had turned him into a hedgehog encased in steel armor—impossible to strike.

However, by cross-referencing Mo Qingli’s intelligence, Zhang Qi finally pinpointed one of Li Xiujian’s assets in Southeast Asia.

The company specialized in rare earth and non-ferrous metal mining.

On paper, its financials were impeccable, boasting staggering profit margins.

Yet, within Li Xiujian’s sprawling empire, it was insignificant—

A lone, forgotten piece on the edge of the chessboard.

After a moment of contemplation, Lu Chenyuan issued a series of directives—cold, precise, and ruthlessly calculated.

…

One week later.

A port in Southeast Asia.

The humid air reeked of diesel and the briny tang of seawater.

The Andaman Pearl, a cargo ship laden with rare earth ore, sat motionless at the dock.

It should have departed twelve hours ago, bound for Europe.

Instead, it was paralyzed.

A dozen customs inspectors conducted an exceptionally thorough "routine spot check."

Their movements were deliberate, painstakingly slow.

The captain, a sun-leathered local, was drenched in sweat, frantically calling headquarters—only to be told, "Wait."

Unbeknownst to him, the port’s customs chief had spent the previous night playing an exceptionally pleasant round of overnight golf with a representative from Lu Corporation’s Southeast Asia branch.

Meanwhile, three hundred kilometers inland—

A "freak accident" struck a critical mining transport route.

Days of torrential rain triggered a landslide.

Half a mountain’s worth of mud and rock buried the road completely.

Repairs would take at least two weeks.

Local news reported it as a "natural disaster."

Now, hundreds of mining trucks were stranded, trapped between the pits and the blocked highway.

Both ends of the supply chain had been throttled simultaneously.

Panic began to spread.

Europe’s largest buyer terminated its annual contract with Golden Triangle Mining, citing "failure to guarantee stable supply."

Instead, it signed with a new, mysteriously emerged supplier—one offering slightly higher prices but double the shipping capacity, backed by Lu Corporation’s shipping guarantees.

The blows came in rapid succession—each precise, each fatal.

Golden Triangle Mining’s stock plummeted on the local exchange.

Day one: down 7%.

Day two: down 15%.

Day three: a direct nosedive at opening bell.

Negative rumors swarmed online—

"Supply chain collapse."

"Executives embroiled in internal strife."

"Environmental scandal imminent."

Truth and lies intertwined, eroding market confidence entirely.

Investors dumped shares at any price.

A perfect stranglehold.

…

Jingzhou.

An exclusive, members-only club.

Underground, in a dimly lit, windowless Japanese-style room—

A single lantern cast a sickly yellow glow over the austere space.

Li Xiujian knelt on the tatami, facing a rock garden painting, eyes closed in meditation.

Before him lay a black satellite phone.

It rang.

He opened his eyes slowly—sharp, hawk-like.

He answered without speaking, listening as the voice on the other end, Golden Triangle Mining’s panicked insider, gasped in desperation:

"Boss, we can’t hold on! It’s over!"

"The port’s locked down, the road’s gone, clients have fled, the stock’s in freefall!"

"The whole company’s in chaos—everyone’s saying we’re bankrupt!"

"If we don’t get funding in three days—three days max—we’ll be liquidated!"

Li Xiujian’s face remained stone-cold.

Not a single muscle twitched.

Only when the voice finished did he speak, his voice a dry rasp:

"Who did this?"

"I—I don’t know! Each thing looks like bad luck, but together—it’s a trap! This isn’t business. It’s war!"

Li Xiujian hung up.

The room plunged into suffocating silence.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a frigid smile.

"Lu Chengsi… Your grandson has teeth."

He understood instantly.

This was no accident.

This was Lu Chenyuan’s retaliation.

The attack wasn’t aimed at his core.

Instead, it targeted the weakest link in his empire—the one most vulnerable to external disruption.

The strategy was brilliant.

And it hurt.

Golden Triangle Mining couldn’t fall.

It wasn’t just a cash cow—it laundered money and maintained his overseas connections.

If it collapsed, the dominoes would start tumbling.

He had to save it.

Li Xiujian grabbed an encrypted phone and dialed.

"Activate ‘Celestial Vault’ Account One," he commanded, tone brooking no argument.

"Divert two billion. Flood it into Golden Triangle Mining. Stabilize the stock. Reopen the supply routes. At any cost."

The voice on the other end hesitated: "Boss, ‘Celestial Vault’ is our last resort. If we move it, we risk exposure—"

"Do it."

Li Xiujian’s voice turned lethal.

"And dig up everything on Lu Chenyuan’s moves in Southeast Asia. I want to know exactly how he pulled this off."

He knew using the ‘Celestial Vault’ meant cracking open his own defenses.

Money left trails.

But he had no choice.

This was a gamble.

He was betting he could plug the leak before it was traced.

Betting his enemy wouldn’t catch the fleeting transaction.

…

Yuanlong Technology.

The top floor had been transformed into a war room.

Dozens of elite technicians hunched over monitors, poised for action.

The massive holographic screen no longer displayed network maps—it now showed a global financial flow chart.

Countless dots pulsed across it.

Most were white, marking normal transactions.

But they were waiting for the red one.

Mo Qingli stood beside Lu Chenyuan, her usual entourage absent.

Her intelligence analysts had merged seamlessly with his tech team—

One side provided "signposts," the other pursued the trail.

A flawless partnership.

"Will he tap into his core funds?" she murmured.

"He will," Lu Chenyuan replied, eyes locked on the screen. "Golden Triangle is his pressure point. He won’t let it die."

Then—

A shrill alarm blared through the command center.

A technician shot to his feet.

"Here it comes!"

On the screen, a thick red data stream suddenly lit up from a node in Switzerland.

Like an awakened fire dragon, it began leaping between global offshore financial centers at an astonishing speed.

The Cayman Islands, the Virgin Islands, Bermuda...

With each jump, it changed its identity and form,

attempting to vanish within the labyrinth of financial regulations.

"Stay on it!" Zhang Qi ordered.

"Mo Qingli's intelligence network has locked onto the first relay—the 'Heart of the Abyss' trust account at Nordic United Credit Bank!"

"Second relay locked—'Morning Star Investments' in the Cayman Islands!"

"Tracking the data stream—it's moving through a quantum-encrypted channel, destination Bermuda!"

The technicians' shouts overlapped in urgency.

This was a high-stakes chase in the digital realm.

The counter-tracking measures were masterful—the data stream slithered like an elusive eel.

But the net Lu Chenyuan and Mo Qingli had woven was even tighter.

The Mo family's intelligence network provided every possible "stop" along the money trail,

while Yuanlong Tech's supercomputer calculated all potential routes, blocking and intercepting in advance.

Five minutes later,

the red data stream froze on the screen.

Its final destination: a corporate account for Golden Triangle Mining at a local bank.

And its origin was now fully exposed—

the "Heart of the Abyss" trust in Northern Europe.

One of Li Xiujian's core money pools.

Lu Chenyuan stared at the name circled in red on the screen. There was no triumph in his gaze, only icy calm—as if everything had unfolded exactly as predicted.

He turned to Mo Qingli and gave a slight nod.

A faint smile of approval flickered across Mo Qingli's face.

This collaboration had been flawless.

Lu Chenyuan picked up the internal communicator on the desk.

His voice echoed through the command center—clear, commanding.

"Notify all teams.

Phase One—'Startle the Snake by Shaking the Grass'—is complete."