Ji Guang vanished from Fu Xinran's sight, dissolving into the teeming crowd to pursue his unfinished business.

The driver speculated that fifty thousand yuan might allow someone to lie low for a very long time if they remained anonymous, but given Ji Guang’s passionate nature and involvement with that pyramid scheme, the money would be gone in a month or two at most.

Yet, Fu Xinran couldn't afford to wait even one or two months. The company was just getting started, with countless matters demanding her attention. Furthermore, Wang Zhuo had shown her immense gratitude and treated her exceptionally well; she could not abandon her post at this crucial juncture.

Moreover, Ji Guang’s situation deeply worried her. Seeing someone so close losing their sense of self and true nature filled her with a turbulent mix of heartache, pain, and a frustrated anger born of high expectations—a complex emotion heavy in her chest, like a burdensome stone she couldn't dislodge, suffocating her.

Ji Guang was utterly convinced the Professor had been persecuted, so by the time he fled, the commercial van had already crossed the boundary of Zuo'an City, rendering the government connections Wang Zhuo had previously arranged for Fu Xinran useless beyond that point.

Fu Xinran persisted and went to the Public Security Bureau to report the matter, only to be met with the awkward barrier of "difficult to enter, unpleasant to deal with." The driver quietly informed her that every year, thousands of families came to the city searching for relatives entangled in pyramid schemes; the locals had long grown numb to it, adhering only to the five-character maxim for dealing with such families: "Eat, take, hold, demand, delay."

Only the final character, "delay," was what they truly needed to do. The families could only wait for news, which would only come if their relative was coincidentally discovered during the dismantling of some den. Otherwise, the local police would hardly stir up the entire regional pyramid industry just to find one ordinary outsider—that would be completely unreasonable.

Ji Guang still possessed some conscience, calling Fu Xinran several times over two days. Finally, he persuaded her to board a plane heading north, listening to his grand declaration of striking out to conquer a vast new territory, which reduced Fu Xinran to uncontrollable tears.

A week later, Wang Zhuo noticed his female secretary had become gaunt. She was completely immersed in her work, perhaps seeking refuge from her incessant worry over her wayward boyfriend in the constant activity.

Her jawline had sharpened further, and her eyes were perpetually rimmed with the smoky shadow of sleepless nights, making her look like an endearing 'national treasure.'

Wang Zhuo hardened his heart, reasoning that Ji Guang, with his bachelor’s degree, must possess intelligence and discernment. Since he had chosen such a foolish path, he should be made to pay the price for that foolishness.

But Gan Shuang couldn't stand to see it. She quietly sought out Wang Zhuo, imploring him to help Fu Xinran find and bring Ji Guang back.

"That’s Guangxi, my dear lady," Wang Zhuo protested. "It’s not that I don't want to help her, but I’m a stranger there too; I can’t do anything even if I wanted to."

"I know you have a way," Gan Shuang insisted stubbornly. "Jiangzhou is bigger than Shu'an City, yet you still found me in the Red House, didn't you?"

"That was tailing, do you understand, madam?" Wang Zhuo immediately cried out in protest. "Besides, you are my wife; I would risk my life to rescue you. But that fellow surnamed Ji is no relation to me, and he’s a grown man. Why should I go looking for him?"

"But he is Sister Fu’s boyfriend! Sister Fu has become your personal attendant now—how can you say he’s no relation?" Gan Shuang argued logically, shaking his arm as she pleaded, "Besides, I'm not asking you to go yourself. You are so capable; I trust that if you arrange it, someone will certainly handle this for you."

"Personal attendant or not, once that man surnamed Ji returns, I’ll definitely ruin their relationship," Wang Zhuo remained unmoved. He continued, "He’s an adult, yet he lacks the ability to distinguish right from wrong. Someone flew specifically to pick him up, and he still ungratefully stole the money and fled. That kind of person is unworthy of my secretary—tell him to step aside!" Gan Shuang tried persuading him for a long time but failed to convince Wang Zhuo; in fact, she ended up being persuaded by him, agreeing that Ji Guang was now reaping what he sowed and deserved it, resolving to urge Fu Xinran to break up with him later, as such a man wasn't worth her love.

After dropping Gan Shuang back at school, Wang Zhuo drove his car to the shade of a tree outside a residential complex, turned off the engine, and sat quietly in the driver's seat, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he contemplated.

He was pondering what method he should use if he truly decided to search for Ji Guang in Shu'an City.

In the vast sea of humanity, is finding one person really that difficult? The answer is actually no. In this informational age, there are countless ways to track a person’s whereabouts. Perhaps it is truly difficult for an ordinary citizen, but for powerful individuals or those with the means to utilize state apparatus, it is often a very simple matter.

Take Ji Guang, for instance. If he goes online, every network account he logs into will record the location of his IP address. Public security personnel can officially request network service providers to supply his IP address, then follow that lead to find the internet cafe, private residence, or any location where he logged in.

If he makes a phone call, the mobile service provider will record the time and frequency band of his calls. Those familiar with the technology know that mobile calls utilize cell tower service rather than direct satellite connection; thus, when making a call, the system records the base station number he used. Based on the base station number, one can locate the approximate geographical area where he was when he called, with an error margin of only tens or hundreds of meters.

If he uses his mobile phone to surf the internet, the technical processing will be slightly more complex, roughly equivalent to a combination of the two methods above.

Only state organs have the authority to utilize the aforementioned state machinery, but far too many people possess the ability to use it. In some loosely managed areas, accessing communication records for hire has become a lucrative business for many mobile employees; even a low-ranking police officer can query the internet usage records of residents in their jurisdiction—regulations concerning "privacy" or "confidentiality" become merely empty pronouncements.

Wang Zhuo quickly devised the simplest method, one that wouldn't even require soliciting favors. He only needed to have Siyuan hack into the mobile network, pull up Ji Guang's communication records, lock down his general area of activity, and then he could personally scan the area with his X-ray vision, giving him an eighty percent certainty of locating that fool.

In many pyramid scheme hideouts, subordinates have their phones confiscated or are even physically restricted, but an eager beaver like Ji Guang needed no such scrutiny, which provided Wang Zhuo with a convenient shortcut.

"Ultimately, big brother is still a good person..."

He sighed with a wry smile and called Siyuan: "My sweet girl, what are you doing?"

"Undressing a beauty," Siyuan replied playfully. "It’s a new Korean casual game—a dancing type. I’m stripping the main program’s shell."

"Developing cheats again?" Wang Zhuo asked curiously. "How much is this job worth?"

Siyuan said while tapping away at the keyboard, "Only two hundred thousand. Little Bai has a few children suffering from lead poisoning; we plan to use this money to treat them."

"Little Bai?" Wang Zhuo paused, then realized the Little Bai Siyuan mentioned was Bailu, not Ji Guang, who was deep in that 'economic cult.'

Both are named Little Bai; how can the gap between people be so vast? He mused inwardly, then said, "Count me in for a share. I’ll add another two hundred thousand; make sure the kids get the best care. But I'm not giving this money away for nothing. You need to take a moment later and do something for me."

"Sure thing, what is it?" Siyuan asked with a low laugh. "Are you under too much pressure recently and want me to help you relax?" Wang Zhuo coughed dryly. "Relaxation is necessary, but there’s also a real errand. I’ll send you a mobile number shortly; help me check its communication and movement records for the recent period, then send them to my QQ."

"No problem! That's a small matter—I'll finish checking it for you before I get back to undressing the beauty," Siyuan readily agreed. Then, changing the subject, she asked, "But the two hundred thousand is for the children's medical bills. I can’t work for free checking your number for you, right? Shouldn't you offer some token of appreciation?"

"How about I treat you to red sausage?" Wang Zhuo teased, his mind replaying the explicit memory of her sucking on a large red sausage while draped over his lap.

Spring is the season for teenagers to grow, and Siyuan was in the final stage of her growth spurt. She had grown taller recently, a fact Wang Zhuo noticed last week during their 'old man pushing a cart' session from the change in the angle of her widely spread legs.

"Okay, I love red sausage the most! Skewer it with a bamboo stick, grease it up, and roast it on an electric stove—you can smell the aroma from far away!" Siyuan laughed like a little fox.

Bamboo skewer? Roast on a stove? Wang Zhuo’s erection subtly reacted. He thought wryly that the little sorceress had grown up; even her words were now laced with hidden meanings, and she would likely become harder to deal with in the future!

"You dare to flirt with me? I'll settle the score with you later," he grumbled into the phone, hung up, and then called Fu Xinran to ask for Ji Guang's number.

"Don't ask me why you need his number—just send it quickly."

"Are there two numbers? That’s fine; send both over."

"Don't rush to thank me yet; I didn't say I’d help you find him."

"I'm putting the unpleasant truth out there first: even if Little Bai comes back, he might not be the Little Bai you knew before. You need to prepare yourself mentally."

After dismissing Fu Xinran, he received a text message from her a moment later containing two mobile numbers. He looked them over and forwarded them verbatim to Siyuan.

Siyuan called back quickly: "Why are there two numbers? Do you want me to check both?" "Yes, check both," Wang Zhuo replied.

"Then should the reward be doubled?" she asked, wagging her fox tail playfully. "But my mouth is small; I can only fit one red sausage. Besides, even if I could eat two, you don't have any more, do you?"

"Then add something else—I’ll treat you to red sausage plus black moss!" Wang Zhuo said, as he used his X-ray vision to observe his own increasingly lush forest, a slight smile spreading across his lips.