39: Chapter 39 Mr. Luo brushes past me, his breath coming in hoarse gasps; a deadly trap unfolds on the terrace.

The air inside the cruise ship was filled with the scent of expensive champagne, mixed with the fragrance of top-tier perfumes.

The moment Lin Yan stepped into the banquet hall, the fragmented light refracted from the massive crystal chandelier overhead made his eyes ache.

He subconsciously lowered the brim of his hat, even though he wasn't wearing one.

He shrank his body behind several boisterously talking suppliers, attempting to use their portly figures as cover as he slowly shuffled toward the corner where his colleagues from the Public Relations Department were gathered.

"Manager Lin, over here."

An intern with a ponytail spotted him and waved excitedly.

Lin Yan cursed inwardly, but he had to put on that gentle, almost fake smile as he walked over quickly.

He had just stood still, not even having time to take a sip of water to calm his nerves, when a sudden, needle-pricking tightness spread across his spine.

That feeling was very familiar.

It was the signal of being stared at intensely from behind, with a gaze heavy with scrutiny.

Lin Yan slowly turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the noisy crowd.

Su Wanqing was standing by the champagne tower in the distance, a water-ink colored cheongsam making her look elegant to the extreme.

She held half a glass of light golden champagne in her hand, her fingertips slowly rubbing against the rim of the glass.

Seeing Lin Yan look over, she didn't dodge; instead, she raised her glass to him from across the gap of dozens of people.

That smile was as gentle as a truly virtuous wife and mother, yet Lin Yan saw that leaping, hacker-like invasive gleam deep in her eyes.

Just as Lin Yan wanted to look away, the crowd on his left was suddenly torn open like a crack by an invisible hand.

Luo Qingcheng was wearing a bright silver haute couture gown, the cold white light hitting her exposed, sharp shoulders, making them blindingly white.

She stepped in those needle-thin high heels, every step taken with extreme steadiness, while the surrounding executives hurriedly made way, not daring to approach her lightly.

Luo Qingcheng's gaze was as cold as a piece of eternal black ice, and when she passed by Lin Yan, she didn't even pause for a second.

But the moment she brushed past him, Lin Yan heard her low and slightly hoarse breathing.

It was the rhythm she had only had that day in the conference room after being forced into a dead end.

Lin Yan's left hand, tucked into his suit pocket, clenched tightly, his nails digging deep into his palm, using that slight pain to keep himself clear-headed.

Not far behind Luo Qingcheng followed her personal assistant.

Lin Yan keenly observed that the assistant's hand was always hanging in the folds at the side of her dress, where there was a long, strip-like protrusion.

That was a professional voice recorder.

Luo Qingcheng didn't trust him.

Even though he had already escaped the conference room that day, she was still trying to capture every word that might reveal his identity.

This airtight sense of surveillance made Lin Yan feel like a venomous snake on display in a glass case.

Before he could catch his breath, the final wave of oppression surged over from directly in front of him like a mountain toppling and sea overturning.

Qin Muxue was sitting on the leather sofa in the main seat, surrounded by several socialites, yet she was just looking down at the black vintage handbag in her hands.

She didn't look at Lin Yan.

But Lin Yan saw her paper-white hands gripping the edge of the handbag so tightly that her knuckles were slightly white.

The handbag was bulging, its outline square; it clearly wasn't meant for holding lipstick or a mirror.

Lin Yan was certain it contained that old poetry book she had worn out from flipping through it.

That was his handwriting, his soul, now turned into ironclad evidence to nail him down.

Three gazes.

Three positions.

Lin Yan felt as if he were trapped in a cage made of gazes.

The air seemed to become viscous in that instant, and every breath became exceptionally laborious.

He turned around, attempting to walk toward the restroom as a temporary sanctuary.

"Manager Lin, so you're here; I've been looking for you for ages."

A familiar and somewhat greasy voice rang out from behind him.

Chen Ming was holding a glass of whiskey, wearing that kind of hollow smile on his face, and walked over with long, swift strides.

He reached out and slapped Lin Yan heavily on the shoulder, the force making Lin Yan sway to one side.

"What's up with you lately, kid? You don't answer calls, acting all mysterious."

Chen Ming's eyes, somewhat clouded by alcohol erosion, scanned back and forth over Lin Yan's face.

"Wanqing was just talking to me earlier, saying that since it's rare for you to attend a banquet, we must have a good drink with you."

Lin Yan felt the temperature of Chen Ming's hand on his shoulder, but his heart felt as cold as if it were dripping with ice water.

He looked at this former college best friend, at this initiator who knew nothing, yet had detonated all the bombs because of his own selfish desires.

"Chen Ming, you've had too much to drink tonight."

Lin Yan brushed Chen Ming's hand off his shoulder, his speech slow and steady.

"The Public Relations Department still has many procedures to coordinate; I don't have time to mess around with you."

Chen Ming, however, persisted and leaned in again, the smell of alcohol spraying onto Lin Yan's glasses.

"Procedures, my ass. You think I don't know? You're the favorite in front of President Luo now."

He lowered his voice, his tone carrying a trace of undisguised jealousy and boastfulness.

"Hey, let me tell you, Wanqing has been acting a bit strange lately, spending all day on the computer looking up some bizarre things."

Chen Ming tilted his head back and finished the wine in his glass, letting out a loud burp.

"I'm wondering if that 'Spark' account you gave me back then is having problems."

Lin Yan's pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks in that instant.

He grabbed Chen Ming's arm, his fingers trembling slightly from the force.

"Chen Ming, shut up."

His voice was extremely low, carrying a ruthlessness never seen before.

Chen Ming was stunned, and his originally muddled, drunken state seemed to clear up a bit.

Just then, a waiter in uniform walked over with a tray and politely interrupted their conversation.

"Manager Lin, President Luo is waiting for you on the third-floor terrace, saying there's an emergency with the media seating that you need to handle."

Lin Yan looked at the waiter's expressionless face, then turned to look into the distance.

Su Wanqing was gone.

Luo Qingcheng's spot was also empty.

Qin Muxue was slowly standing up, carrying that black handbag, and walking elegantly toward the elevator leading to the third floor.

The trap had already been set.

Lin Yan released Chen Ming's arm and looked down at the jammer in his cuff.

He pushed up his glasses and nodded at the waiter.

"Lead the way."

As Lin Yan took his first step, he heard a hurried warning from Old K in his earpiece.

"Old Lin, don't go over there. There was a momentary data overflow in the cruise ship's local area network just now; it was Su Wanqing operating it."

Lin Yan ignored it and turned off his earpiece.

He knew that if he didn't peel back half of this skin today, these women would absolutely not let it go.

He walked through the luxurious corridor and stepped onto the spiral staircase leading to the terrace.

The sound of the sea breeze grew louder and louder.