Chapter 164: Chapter 164: The Last Piece
*Bael’s POV*
Runze was asleep.
His breathing had settled into a slow, even rhythm. One hand rested protectively over the rounded curve beneath the blanket, the soft shape an unmistakable reminder of the life growing inside him.
Bael sat quietly beside the bed.
Over the past week, he had learned how to exist without making a sound, how to answer urgent calls out in the corridor, how to return before his husband’s eyes opened, how to keep his face completely calm, as though nothing outside these four walls demanded his attention.
His gaze drifted to the bedside table.
The black sketchbook Ling Yue had brought rested there, untouched and blank. Bael looked at it for several seconds, a quiet frustration settling in his chest.
He should have thought of it first.
Days trapped inside a hospital room would naturally drive Runze restless. Sketching had always been his anchor. Whenever something weighed heavily on his mind, he would sit in the study with a pencil and a pad, only returning to their room hours later with a calmer look in his eyes.
Ling Yue remembered that trait.
Bael hadn’t.
He had been too consumed by the medical reports, the security details, and the brewing storm outside to notice the small details of his husband’s comfort.
He pulled out his phone and speed-dialed a direct contact.
Shen Rui.
The call was answered almost immediately. "Yes, Mr. Wuchen."
"Go to the estate," Bael said, keeping his voice quiet so as not to disturb Runze. "In the study, there is a black leather case with Runze’s drafting pencils. Find them and bring them to the hospital tonight."
"Understood, sir," Shen Rui replied. He paused briefly, his tone shifting into his usual structured, businesslike delivery. "While I have you, sir, the surveillance report just came in."
Bael stood up carefully, making sure the legs of the chair didn’t scrape against the floor. Stepping out into the cool corridor, he let the door click shut behind him to ensure privacy.
"Go on," Bael said, leaning lightly against the wall while keeping one eye on the small glass viewing panel of Runze’s room.
"Liu Wen reported back to Mr. Wuchen Ming," Shen Rui said.
"What was discussed?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary. Liu Wen dropped no hints, so Mr. Wuchen Ming still hasn’t suspected anything."
Bael closed his eyes for a second, letting a tense breath escape.
Good. Exactly as planned.
"He hasn’t attempted to run?" Bael asked.
"No," Shen Rui replied. "Our tail confirms he went straight back to his apartment, and his phone line has been fully cloned. Every message and call he makes is routing directly to our servers."
"He hasn’t altered his daily routine?"
"Not at all. He is acting exactly as he did before the accident. He still firmly believes that if he slips up or tries to warn his boss, we will act on the leverage we hold over his family."
Bael’s expression remained unreadable.
Releasing Liu Wen had been a calculated risk, but a necessary one.
If Wuchen Ming’s assistant had vanished entirely, the old man would have immediately realized someone had intercepted his shadow. He would have panicked. Evidence would be shredded, offshore funds would be moved, and key witnesses would be permanently silenced.
Instead, Bael had ensured Liu Wen was thoroughly broken before letting him walk out. No physical scars—just a quiet, terrifying reminder of what would happen to his family if he failed to play his part. Combined with the hidden recording device and the constant surveillance team tracking his every movement, Liu Wen was a walking wiretap.
Because his assistant had shown up for work completely on time and was acting normal, Wuchen Ming had no idea anything was amiss. He believed luck was still favoring him, completely unaware that his closest confidant was now working under a silent threat.
It was exactly the illusion Bael needed to maintain.
Shen Rui continued, shifting seamlessly to the financial records. "We have finished authenticating every document pulled from the secondary server. The overseas transfers are fully traced, the shell companies are linked directly to his personal accounts, and our specialists have verified the signatures."
It was far more than enough. The embezzlement case was ironclad, ready to move forward whenever Bael decided to pull the trigger.
Shen Rui hesitated slightly over the line. "Should we submit the financial fraud files to the prosecutor tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"And the charge for attempted murder regarding the accident?"
Bael didn’t hesitate. "No. Hold that back."
A brief silence settled between them. Assistant Shen understood Bael’s methods well enough not to openly question them, but the sheer severity of the car crash made the restraint unusual.
"...May I ask why, Mr. Wuchen?"
Bael looked through the glass wall beside him. Beyond it, nurses walked quietly between stations, visitors came and went, and the hospital functioned with a mundane, peaceful rhythm.
"I want him to think he has hope," Bael said flatly.
Shen Rui remained silent, listening.
"Ming would believe this is only a legal battle about money. He will hire top-tier lawyers. He will call in every political favor he has accumulated over the last two decades. He will convince himself that with enough cash and influence, he can still walk away from this clean."
Bael paused, watching a nurse wheel a cart down the hall. "I’ll let him try."
Understanding settled into the assistant’s voice. "You want him to exhaust all his resources."
"Yes. Let him use everything he has to fight." Bael’s eyes grew colder, the reflection in the glass sharpening. "Because when he finally believes he has found a way out, I will close every single door."
Bael wanted him to feel the exact moment his hope died. He wanted him to realize that no amount of wealth could save him from what he did to Runze.
On the other end of the line, Shen Rui quieted, the weight of the strategy settling in. "I understand, sir. I will ensure the financial filing goes through at nine tomorrow morning."
"Good."
Bael ended the call, lowering the device to his side. He didn’t go back inside immediately, his jaw tightening as his mind drifted back to the incident from just two hours ago, when Wuchen Ming had actually shown up in the hospital lobby, attempting to use his position as family to bypass security.
Bael had explicitly warned his security detail that if a single soul let that man past the ground floor, they would pay for it with their lives and their families’ futures. Because his men had held the line, the old man had been forced to stand down at the desk.
But the phone call that followed minutes later had been entirely calculated. Bael could still hear the false warmth in Wuchen Ming’s voice over the line.
*"Bael. Surely you aren’t keeping family away during a crisis. I only wanted to see how my nephew-in-law was doing. Is it good behavior to tell your men to bar your own uncle from visiting your wife?"*
Bael remembered tightening his grip around the phone until the casing creaked against his palm.
In that moment, the raw instinct had been overwhelming. He had wanted to skip the courts entirely, take the elevator straight down to the lobby, bypass the legalities, and end everything himself.
One bullet. One quiet room. No lawyers, no endless investigations, and no waiting. Just immediate silence.
Instead, he had looked through the viewing panel of the door at Runze.
His husband had been talking quietly with Ling Yue, a faint but genuine look of comfort on his face. The sight of that safety—the life they were building despite the chaos—had forced every ounce of lethal anger back down into Bael’s chest. He had answered calmly, matching Ming’s polite deceit.
*"The doctors aren’t allowing visitors, Uncle. His condition requires absolute quiet."*
The fake understanding that had followed, the performative sigh of relief... it had been nauseating. But Bael had matched the older man’s polite deceit perfectly, giving nothing away until he finally cut the line.
Now, two hours later, standing alone in the quiet hospital corridor, the memory of that call still left a bitter taste in his mouth. At that moment, he had wanted to kill him.
But a legal execution was cleaner. It left no loose ends, and it would ensure Wuchen Ming could never reach their family again.
Before heading back inside, Bael stood by the door for a few more seconds, letting the coldness of the corporate warfare fade from his face.
Everything was set.
Tomorrow, the first piece would move. It wasn’t their strongest hand, just a minor financial charge, but it was enough to make the old man believe he still had a game left to play.
Bael opened the door quietly and stepped back inside.
Runze was still sleeping.
As Bael walked back to the bedside, he caught the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of his husband’s chest. Despite the exhaustion still written across Runze’s pale face, there was a quiet peace there now—a safety that Bael had fought to keep intact.
Everything else could wait.
The investigation, Ming, the company, revenge. None of it mattered inside this room.
Only one thought remained.
Just recover.
Leave everything else to me.
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