The leather belt cracked sharply against Cheng Moyan’s face.

“Truly worthy of a political thought instructor; he doesn't even need a script to lie,” Wang Zhuo shook his head, rising to his feet. He retrieved a power strip from a corner of the living room, tossed it onto the floor, and stomped it into pieces.

Cheng Moyan was confused, but then Wang Zhuo gave a sharp tug on the power cord, leaving him holding only a five-meter-long rubber power cable—a ready-made rope.

“You, what are you going to do?”

Cheng Moyan flinched away frantically, but Wang Zhuo pinned him with a foot, deftly twisting his arms and legs behind him into a position known as the four-horse-in-a-tumble bind.

Both his wrists and ankles were tightly secured behind his back. This posture not only stripped Cheng Moyan of all personal freedom but also filled him with an overwhelming sense of humiliation. Before he could even contemplate crying for help, Wang Zhuo stuffed a wad of towels into his mouth.

After struggling violently for a long time, Cheng Moyan sadly realized he was utterly incapable of breaking free. This time, he was completely at their mercy.

“Wait until I find what I need, and then I’ll settle accounts with you.”

After confirming she had found what she was looking for, Qi Fei rummaged through a drawer, pulled out a screwdriver, and began dismantling the computer to extract the hard drive.

Just as she lifted the chassis cover, Wang Zhuo rushed in to stop her. “Sister, wait a moment. That brat must have hidden a backup. Let’s find that first, then you can take it apart.”

“Can we find it?” Qi Fei sounded worried.

Wang Zhuo smiled and nodded. “Let’s try. It should be possible.”

“What if he stored the backup online?” Qi Fei whispered.

“Don’t worry, I have other ways to deal with that,” Wang Zhuo assured her, patting her shoulder confidently.

After a brief discussion, the two split up to search the two bedrooms, noting potential targets: optical discs, USB drives, external hard drives, cell phone cameras, flash memory cards—so many items capable of storing digital data in this era. Physical media like film or photographs were nearly obsolete.

Before long, Qi Fei unearthed a pile of items: an old, discarded mobile phone, a large box of optical discs, and a dust-covered USB drive tucked behind the computer. Mixed in were several adult magazines, and since a few came bundled with discs, she gathered those items as well, piling everything in the living room.

Cheng Moyan lay awkwardly near the junction of the living room and kitchen. Wang Zhuo’s binding technique was excruciating; he felt his waist was close to snapping.

Seeing the pile of items Qi Fei had found, he sneered inwardly. How could one insult the intelligence of a university lecturer? Just wait and see.

Meanwhile, Wang Zhuo didn't ransack cabinets like Qi Fei. He casually flipped through items to maintain appearances while simultaneously powering his X-ray vision to its maximum setting for a full holographic scan of the entire room.

Under the comprehensive, three-dimensional imaging of the X-ray vision, even a family of cockroaches hiding in a wall crevice could not escape detection. From the hanging lamps and plaster ceiling down to the carpet and floorboards, no object—suspicious or not—could evade his sight. If it existed, it would be found.

Ten minutes later, Wang Zhuo finally made a discovery in the bedroom Qi Fei had searched. Inside one wall cabinet, he located a removable panel. In the narrow gap at the center of that panel, a small 2.5-inch recordable optical disc was hidden.

Finding it, Wang Zhuo gave a triumphant fist pump, then quickly closed his eyes to rest his vision momentarily.

A flurry of hurried footsteps sounded. As Wang Zhuo opened his eyes, Qi Fei entered carrying a file folder. “I found the property deed. This house is registered under his name.”

Wang Zhuo took it and glanced over it casually; he had already spotted this item during his scan—it was under the cushion of the living room sofa.

“Any other findings?”

“I don’t know. All the suspicious things I found are in the living room.”

“Let’s switch. You search my room again, and I’ll check your area.”

“Okay.”

A short while later, Wang Zhuo made a “surprised” discovery of the disc hidden in the wall cabinet. He immediately called Qi Fei over. They inserted the disc into the computer’s optical drive, and as expected, it was a backup, containing the exact same contents as the 8X125 folder on Cheng Moyan’s D drive.

Qi Fei’s face lit up with joy. Since Cheng Moyan had hidden this physical copy, the possibility of him having an additional online backup had significantly decreased.

“Let’s go question him.”

The two returned to the living room. Wang Zhuo pulled the towel from Cheng Moyan’s mouth and held up the small, golden disc. “Teacher Cheng, is this what you meant when you said there was nothing left?”

Seeing the disc, Cheng Moyan’s face instantly drained of color. He gasped for air, glaring unwillingly at Wang Zhuo and Qi Fei.

Qi Fei lunged forward and slapped him repeatedly across the face with resounding cracks. Through his glare, she finally confirmed that this scumbag had exhausted his last card and had no tricks left.

But Wang Zhuo, standing behind her, frowned deeply. From the depths of Cheng Moyan’s gaze, he detected a flicker of cunning.

This bastard is putting on an act.

Wang Zhuo pondered for a moment and deduced Cheng Moyan’s plan. The man had never intended to yield. If Wang Zhuo hadn't found that disc, Cheng Moyan would have pretended to confess under duress and handed over the material, thus successfully pulling the wool over their eyes while retaining his backup for future revenge.

This time, Wang Zhuo finally got ruthless. He cranked his X-ray vision to maximum power. The entire apartment instantly rendered in his mind as a vivid, multicolored 3D diagram. His brain, like a high-speed computer, rapidly filtered and processed every image. Every object with a suspicious shape became a priority target—even Cheng Moyan’s body was not exempt.

Even if Cheng Moyan had hidden something inside his own stomach, like in Heavenly Sword and Dragon Slaying Saber, Wang Zhuo could find it.

The overloading of his ability caused Wang Zhuo’s vision to blur occasionally. Gritting his teeth, he persevered and made a new discovery.

Inside the toilet cistern in the bathroom, there was a thumb-sized, white piece of foam. Buoyed by the water, it was floating inside one of the flushing components, invisible unless one opened the cistern, and impossible to find even by draining the tank.

Wang Zhuo instantly retracted his gaze. The surroundings snapped back to normal. Staggering slightly, feeling a momentary sensation akin to severe hypoglycemia after three days without food, he reached out to steady himself against the wall, stepped directly over Cheng Moyan, and walked toward the bathroom.

Prying out the piece of foam, Wang Zhuo splashed some cold water on his face to clear his head. He emerged from the bathroom, knelt down, grabbed Cheng Moyan by the hair, and held the foam piece between his index and middle fingers for him to see.

“Cheng, look what I found?”

Cheng Moyan’s face was already swollen beyond recognition from Qi Fei’s relentless slapping, his nostrils bleeding down to stain his lips. He inwardly vowed to exact revenge tenfold the next day. The harder Qi Fei hit him, the more secretly satisfied he felt. Just wait and see.

At that moment, with his hair pulled and his face twisted sideways, he saw something completely unexpected. He froze like a wooden statue, abandoning his pretense.

“This is impossible. How did you find it?”

Qi Fei was shaking her left hand, which was stinging; since her right hand was injured, she had used only her left hand for the slapping spree. The force had made the back and palm of her hand burn.

Seeing the item in Wang Zhuo’s hand, followed by Cheng Moyan’s expression of shock, Qi Fei paused, then suddenly understood—she had been fooled by Cheng Moyan again; he had a contingency plan.

“Whoosh—” A gust of wind blew over her head. Qi Fei actually vaulted over Wang Zhuo’s head. Wang Zhuo quickly turned. “Sister Qi, what are you doing?”

Qi Fei didn’t answer. When she returned, she held a kitchen knife—she had gone to the kitchen for a weapon.

Wang Zhuo was horrified. He immediately shoved Cheng Moyan’s head away; with a dull thud, Cheng Moyan hit the floor, his head spinning. Wang Zhuo jumped up and grabbed Qi Fei’s wrist. Given her behavior today, Wang Zhuo knew that if she were pushed too far, she was capable of anything.

“Sister, calm down! This is really his last move. There’s nothing else!” This reassurance wasn't entirely for her benefit; Wang Zhuo had read everything in Cheng Moyan’s eyes—the man was truly out of options.

“Clang!” The kitchen knife dropped. Qi Fei threw her arms around Wang Zhuo and burst into wrenching sobs.

Gently patting her trembling back, Wang Zhuo lifted her left hand and placed the piece of foam into her palm, murmuring softly, “Don’t cry. Once we’re done with this scumbag, we’ll go home.”

...

Half an hour later, Qi Fei leaned against Wang Zhuo’s shoulder as the two descended the stairs with light steps.

Cheng Moyan sat listlessly on the living room floor, as if his soul had departed. He was completely naked, clutching a microphone stained with blood, his lips occasionally moistening it.

He was beyond tears.

His face was soaked, and water droplets were still dripping from his head.

On the floor beside him sat a small plastic basin containing some rather cloudy liquid that appeared to still hold some warmth.

Licking the microphone, gargling with golden liquid, being photographed and recorded—Cheng Moyan finally understood the feeling of the actors in the extreme Japanese films he enjoyed so much.

Even if Wang Zhuo returned the confiscated backup files now, he wouldn't dare upload them. After suffering through that half-hour of hellish cleansing, his mind was permanently scarred. Forget about resistance; he didn't dare harbor any thought of revenge.

It was too terrifying.

Especially since that couple had taken photos and videos. Cheng Moyan truly felt tears he couldn't shed. The feeling of having leverage held over you was crushing, heavy as a mountain, suffocating.

He finally felt deep regret, but it was too late. Misdeeds always breed their own consequences; this time, he had finally reaped what he sowed.