The Self-Cultivation of a Reborn Massage Therapist

Chapter 490 No Evidence Required

Zhou Yaqin exclaimed sincerely, "Thank you so much for your guidance, Director Chen! It's just that massage parlors are so special that even I've developed a fixed mindset about them."

Chen Guifen gently tapped the microphone: "President Zhou, please don't rush."

"Shen Yan, are you there?"

"Auntie, I'm here."

"Is the call line kept confidential?"

"This is the encrypted channel you reserved."

“Okay.” Chen Guifen’s tone changed, “President Zhou, have you considered that the people behind this incident might not care about what they gain at all?”

Zhou Yaqin rubbed her temples, her tone filled with confusion:

"Director Chen, let's not even talk about how much Little Hammer hates these rules and these people..."

"I really can't understand what the person behind this is trying to achieve by going to so much trouble. What does he gain by teaching the little hammer how to make a big cake?"

Chen Guifen did not answer directly, but changed the subject:
"Where is that actuary we found now?"

Shen Yan's voice came through the earphones crisply and clearly: "Shanghai."

"The list of companies he contacted included: Ugly Donkey, Fantasy, and Baidu in Beijing; banks, textile giants, hot pot chains, air conditioning giants, and shoe tycoons in the financial sector..."

"I just saw on the security camera that he printed out business invitations for 'Ali' and 'Where Did We Go' at the hotel reception..."

Chen Guifen asked softly, "President Zhou, what did you hear?"

“From the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei region to the Yangtze River Delta, I guess he’ll go to the middle reaches of the Yangtze River, the Chengdu-Chongqing region, the Pearl River Delta…” Her voice grew deeper. “This person is leading you to measure the economic landscape of China, telling you that the person behind the scenes has integrated into the capillaries of China’s economy, affecting every aspect of the Chinese people’s lives, from food and clothing to housing and transportation, and even higher-level infrastructure such as water, electricity, gas, finance, and the internet!”

“President Zhou, the mastermind doesn’t need to directly benefit,” Chen Guifen pointed out incisively, “as long as you’re willing to make the pie bigger…”

"No matter which industry he breaks into, as the investor, he can sit back and reap the rewards!"

Zhou Yaqin's face suddenly darkened, and she squeezed out four words through gritted teeth:
"International investment banks!"

Chen Guifen sighed softly:
"I just found out that the actuary was diagnosed with ALS three months ago, and all other information is blank... Mr. Zhou, it's too difficult to find the real mastermind behind this."

"Why?" Zhou Yaqin pressed.

“Shen Yan,” Chen Guifen suddenly turned to Shen Yan, “What do you think the main villains in movies would do in this situation?”

Shen Yan replied instantly:

"They would just tell their assistants, 'Go teach that kid some manners.' As for the specific methods? The people behind the scenes would never ask."

"That's right," Chen Guifen said in a low voice, "This was definitely done by an execution team; they don't even know where the order came from."

"So you want to verify the evidence?" She smiled wryly. "Even if my unit intervenes, it's as difficult as climbing to the sky."

Zhou Yaqin's voice trembled slightly:
"Is that the end of it?"

"Should we tell Little Hammer... and let him... just come back like this?"

Chen Guifen suddenly chuckled:
"Mr. Zhou, as the person Little Hammer trusts most, you need to understand one thing—"

"Zhao Xiaochui never needs evidence to do what he wants!"

"Tell him all these guesses as they are!"

Du, on the edge of an industrial zone.

Zhao Xiaochui pedaled his bike, panting heavily, as the live stream camera panned across the group of workers who had just finished their night shifts. His chubby cheeks glistened in the morning light, and beads of sweat trickled down his chin.

The comments section instantly became lively:

"Fatty's cycling to lose weight is serious!"

"I'm sweating more than I'm drinking water!"

"The streamer is so dedicated! Did he lose two ounces this time?"

Zhao Xiaochui was panting heavily, his mouth agape.

"Guys...don't just watch the show...all that muscle I have is real...work I put in..."

While joking about his obesity during the live stream, the real 'Guo Fulai' is slowly losing weight under the care of Guo Guo and the others. Zhao Xiaochui adjusts his physical condition every morning based on the information sent from the backstage.

As they were talking, his phone suddenly vibrated, and Zhou Yaqin's encrypted message popped up. He slammed on the brakes, stopping abruptly on one foot at the side of the road. Without even wiping the sweat from his face, he frowned and swiped to unlock his phone.

A series of alarming keywords popped up on the screen:

"Global pension funds, sovereign wealth funds, insurance giants, university endowments..."

"Its assets under management exceed $10 trillion..."

"Its scale exceeds the GDP of any country other than China and the United States..."

"The central nervous system of the capitalist empire..."

"The Belade Group...?"

Zhao Xiaochui squinted, scratching his belly in confusion:
"With so many names... what exactly is this thing? Is it a company?"

But it's good that he found out; he's too lazy to run around with this actuary with ALS.

Zhao Xiaochui shoved his phone into his pocket and grinned at the camera:
"Guys! I cycled over 300 kilometers from Jinghai to Shanghai, and it took me five whole days!" He patted his belly. "To say nothing of anything else, I really lost seven or eight pounds!"

"I'll have to rest for a few days now," he said, wiping his sweat. "The next leg of the journey will be even more exciting—from Chongqing, the mountain city, all the way to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan and Chongqing!"

"We'll meet again in the future," he said, bowing slightly to the camera.

After saying that, he decisively ended the live stream.

Then, he looked at the factory area across the street and sneered:
"No evidence?"

"Fatty..."

"Wait a minute, when has Chris Hemsworth ever needed evidence to get things done?"

……

One week later, at the departure level of Shenzhen Airport.

The actuary got out of the car and reached for his suitcase with his left hand, but his right hand was unable to exert any force due to ALS, and the suitcase got stuck in the corner of the trunk and wouldn't budge.

He released his grip, took a half-step back, and calmly said to the driver:

"The luggage is stuck."

The driver got out of the car, pulled hard on the suitcase, and hurriedly drove away amidst the urging of the traffic wardens.

The actuary reached for the suitcase, but was pulled back abruptly before regaining his balance.

Looking down, I saw that the suitcase wheels were stuck in the drain grate.

He looked up at the uniformed staff member not far away, but the staff member looked away and pretended not to see him.

"Dude, got into trouble?"

A chubby figure approached with a smile.

The actuary glanced at him expressionlessly, a hint of familiarity flashing in his eyes, and nodded slightly.

Zhao Xiaochui yanked the suitcase out of the ditch, ignoring the actuary's resistance, and cheerfully put his arm around his shoulder as they walked towards the terminal.

"Dude, it's been over twenty days, you've aged pretty fast!" He leaned closer and lowered his voice, "Is it because you overused your brain while killing people?"

The actuary's expression changed drastically. Just as he was about to make a move, Zhao Xiaochui's iron-like arm gripped him, and a fisherman's hat was pulled down to cover half of his face.

Seeing the two with their arms around each other, the surrounding passengers assumed they were old friends reunited and didn't give them a second glance.

Zhao Xiaochui put her arm around him and they walked slowly forward, her voice tinged with laughter:
"What do you need so much money for if you have ALS?"

"You think you've hidden the people you care about well enough?"

"You think you can rest easy just because you've concealed asset transfers?"

The actuary froze, being led along like a puppet. His lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

At this moment, a numbness was spreading from my shoulder blades to my whole body. My already weak right leg felt like it was filled with cement, and the sensation of my foot touching the ground was disappearing.

His tongue began to stiffen, a sign of the lobe paralysis he dreaded most.

His ALS is progressing rapidly, and his life is on a countdown...

(End of this chapter)