Seeing Aunt Wang’s change of expression, Ji Shuyu added fuel to the fire, her tone light and casual:
“This compound isn’t exactly small, but it’s not that big either. When something happens, how can it stay hidden?”
“Especially for those who enjoy visiting and gossiping—they might forget what they’ve said themselves, but those who heard it will remember. Don’t you think so, Aunt Wang?”
Aunt Wang abruptly stood up, her face ashen and sweat beading on her forehead. “Th—that’s right! Comrade Ji is absolutely right! I… I just remembered I have soup simmering at home, I need to go check on it! I have to go!”
She practically fled in panic, not even saying goodbye to Xiaoxin, as if dogs were snapping at her heels.
From that day on, Aunt Wang never dared to show up at Xiaoxin’s home again to gossip.
In fact, whenever she spotted Xiaoxin or Ji Shuyu from afar on the street, she would immediately lower her head, pretend not to see them, and take a detour.
Xiaoxin and Zhao Qiang’s world was finally peaceful again.
Xiaoxin held Ji Shuyu’s hands, so grateful she was almost speechless. “Sister Shuyu, you’re amazing! How did you know that’s what she was afraid of?”
Ji Shuyu smiled gently. “People like her are unhappy with their own lives and can’t stand to see others happy.”
“She may not fear you, but there’s always something she’s afraid of. ‘To beat a snake, strike its vital spot.’ Find the right spot, and one strike is enough.”
With that one precise blow, she was certain Aunt Wang wouldn’t remain indifferent.
After helping Xiaoxin deal with Aunt Wang, Ji Shuyu became increasingly busy.
Recently, the research institute was filled with an unusually tense atmosphere.
The new materials project had received strong support from Political Commissar Qi, and it seemed the higher-ups had finally recognized the critical importance of these materials for the island.
Directives had been issued to accelerate the research.
Ji Shuyu was called in to work overtime.
Given the project’s potential strategic value, it was highly prioritized by the upper levels. Even the security around He Yuan’s department was specifically reinforced.
Ji Shuyu practically lived at the research institute, pulling several all-nighters in a row until her eyes were red from exhaustion.
He Yuan worried about her, but all he could do was find ways to supplement her nutrition and remind her to take care of her health.
If not for the miscarriage-prevention pills and strength-boosting milk powder from the points mall, Ji Shuyu didn’t think she could have held on.
Thankfully, she wasn’t in her third trimester—even a superhuman would struggle under such conditions.
In the early hours of one morning, Ji Shuyu finally completed the simulation and verification of the last set of core data. The results perfectly matched expectations.
She breathed a sigh of relief, encrypted and saved the final data report, and then went home, collapsing into bed and sleeping like the dead.
She planned to rest for half a day and return to the institute in the afternoon to compile the final report and submit it to the higher-ups.
However, when she returned to the institute that afternoon, she sensed something was wrong.
Her assistant, Xiao Lin, ran over, her face pale. “Sister Shuyu! It’s terrible! Our data… it’s gone!”
Ji Shuyu’s mind snapped awake.
She hurried to the data storage location—the original data was missing, and even the backup data had vanished without a trace.
The perpetrator’s methods were sophisticated, leaving almost no evidence behind.
This wasn’t just theft—it was a devastating plunder.
The research institute was dead silent. Everyone understood what this meant.
Their hard work had been in vain, and even worse, project confidentiality may have been compromised.
Forcing herself to stay calm, Ji Shuyu immediately activated the institute’s highest-level emergency protocol, sealing all exits.
While her mind was still clear, she had colleagues who remembered the data write down what they could recall.
She reported the incident to her superiors and the security department without delay.
He Yuan was in a meeting when he received the news.
Hearing the contents of the messenger’s low-voiced report, his expression instantly darkened, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.
“Meeting adjourned.”
He uttered these two words, stood up, and strode swiftly out of the room.
Soon, He Yuan arrived at the research institute with two men he had brought along.
The security department personnel were already there, but progress was slow—the perpetrator had strong counter-surveillance skills.
Without asking many questions, He Yuan walked straight to Ji Shuyu’s side, took her slightly cold hand, and comforted her softly, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”
The two men he brought immediately took over the investigation.
He Yuan carefully questioned Ji Shuyu about the exact time she had left and when the theft was discovered, as well as who knew the timing of the finalization of the data.
Soon, the preliminary investigation results came in.
It was highly likely that an insider was responsible, and the perpetrator was very familiar with the research institute and Ji Shuyu’s work habits.
The theft occurred during the window between late night, after Ji Shuyu left, and the morning, before others arrived for work.
As the scope narrowed, the investigation naturally became simpler.
The atmosphere in the research institute was heavy. Everyone was under suspicion, and the looks they exchanged were filled with shock, doubt, and scrutiny.
Ji Shuyu’s gaze swept over the familiar faces.
Was it Xiao Lin, her assistant who had pulled all-nighters with her? Honest and responsible Lao Wang, who handled the equipment? Or Zhang Hai, the new, somewhat quiet but diligent college graduate?
Suddenly, she recalled a detail.
When she left late last night, she had run into Zhang Hai in the hallway.
He said he had forgotten something and came back to retrieve it.
At the time, she was too tired to think much of it, but now, remembering, his expression had seemed briefly flustered.
He Yuan keenly caught the subtle change in Ji Shuyu’s expression.
He followed her gaze to Zhang Hai.
Zhang Hai instinctively avoided He Yuan’s gaze, his fingers curling unconsciously.
Even his Adam’s apple moved, as if swallowing.
When people are nervous, they subconsciously exhibit many small mannerisms.
Without speaking, He Yuan simply shot a glance at the men he had brought.
One of them casually walked over to Zhang Hai, while the other quietly blocked potential escape routes.
Only then did He Yuan speak, his tone carrying immense pressure, directly addressing Zhang Hai: “Comrade Zhang Hai, according to Shuyu’s recollection, she encountered you late last night.”
“You said you came back to retrieve something. What was it? Where did you retrieve it from? Who can verify this?”
The sudden questioning made sweat instantly bead on Zhang Hai’s forehead.
He opened his mouth, his voice tight. “I—I came to get a notebook. It was in my own drawer. No one can verify it; I was alone at the time…”
“Which drawer? What color was the notebook? What was roughly written inside?”
He Yuan pressed on rapidly, leaving no time for the other to think.
“It was… the first drawer on the left… blue… with some… daily study notes…”
Zhang Hai’s eyes began to dart around; the rapid-fire questions had caught him off guard.
“That’s not right.”
Ji Shuyu suddenly spoke up, her gaze fixed intently on Zhang Hai.
“The first drawer on the left is where Xiao Lin stores supplies. Your workstation has drawers on the right. Moreover, yesterday afternoon, I saw you using a black hardcover notebook.”
Zhang Hai’s face turned ashen, and his legs began to tremble.
He Yuan snorted coldly and, wasting no more words, directly ordered, “Search his workstation and personal belongings!”
“Zhang Hai, I’m giving you one last chance. Will you tell the truth or not?”
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