Outside, the two officers got into their car. Liao Suifei started the engine and asked Yang Wenyu in the passenger seat, "I think he's got nothing to do with it. His alibi is rock-solid — we just need to check with the two people he mentioned. And he's nowhere near the airport. Why even mention he might need to cooperate with the investigation?"
Yang Wenyu was organizing her notes. "If it matches the witnesses, he really has no involvement. I just find it weird — his parents have ordinary jobs, their household was registered in a crummy old place in South Lianhai. I ran into him there while tailing Cao Shudong. But in just four or five days, he's living in a villa and driving an Audi A8. Hard to imagine where that kind of money suddenly came from."
"Maybe they won the lottery. Not public officials, no unexplained wealth laws. Plus, that spoiled brat might've just gone off to play. If it weren't for his dad's pull, would we really be hunting for a grown man who's been out of contact for twelve hours?" Liao grumbled as he drove.
Yang finished her notes and looked up, still calm. "Not quite. He flew to the UK for three days to represent his dad at an event. After landing back in China, he should've gone straight home — we have his entry record and airport surveillance. Then he vanished. So yeah, it counts as a missing person case."
Liao shook his head. "That makes it even weirder. His brother Cao Rendong is in the UK. No reason for this good-for-nothing second son to go. Is that how rich folks play?"
Yang's dad ran a state farm in Longjiang Province. Every year, she brought more snacks and drinks to her colleagues than the department provided — they jokingly called her the "Minister of Agriculture." Her family was well-off compared to most, but nowhere near Cao Shudong's level.
Liao was six years older than Yang, but he'd done three extra years in criminology grad school, so his field experience wasn't much longer. They often partnered on cases and could joke around freely.
Meanwhile, Zhao Xuan was mulling over the situation. He opened the class group chat — people were already discussing Cao's disappearance. Lu Wenyin chimed in with a brief explanation, asking everyone not to spread it casually.
A while later, Lu posted in the reunion subgroup that she'd head to the beach that evening, telling the others to go ahead and stay safe.
Since the three-day beach trip was a last-minute plan, it was only discussed in the reunion chat — not appropriate for the whole class group.
In class, the two rich kids — Wan Chujun and Cao Shudong — were both unpleasant, but Wan was only arrogant and spoiled toward everyone except Zhao, toward whom she showed vicious spite.
On the plus side, she was stunning. Cao was a full-on spoiled brat; most classmates didn't like him except for his lackeys. Discussion in the group died down quickly.
From Zhao's perspective, if something happened to Cao, he wouldn't feel the slightest regret.
Checking the time — 2 PM — Zhao briefly told his parents about the situation, leaving out the fight with Cao and last night's details, reassuring them not to worry. Then he grabbed his car keys and headed out to the beach villa.
This would be his first time away from home for three days. Even though the rental villa would have essentials, he packed a travel bag with at least two sets of clothes, just in case.
The destination was Jinshitan Resort in eastern Lianhai — over 60 kilometers away, more than an hour's drive. Zhao Mingdong offered to drive him, but Zhao declined.
Driving's a skill built on repetition. When he first got the system, his driving skill was Level 1. After a hundred kilometers or so around the city, he'd risen to Level 2. He'd asked the system about skill levels:
Level 0: beginner, no real ability. Levels 1–3: basic, Levels 4–6: intermediate, Levels 7–9: advanced, Level 10: typical professional level, Levels 10–15: top-tier experts in various fields
Different skills had different difficulties. For driving, most people reach Level 4 shortly after getting their license. For tough subjects like math or physics, most lack the skill entirely; even after college, they might only be Level 1–2. Level 4 math is about the level of an excellent STEM graduate outside of math majors.
Sometimes, people just need an XP bar in life.
He decided to stop by a local Arc'teryx store to pick up some athletic wear. His Burberry pieces were more casual, not ideal for the beach — slow to dry when sweaty.
Not luxury, but Arc'teryx is top-tier in sports gear. Three outfits and two pairs of shoes cost over 20,000 yuan. It didn't exactly hurt his wallet now, but he still found it staggering.
Then he headed for Jinshitan. On the way, Yan Qing called — she wanted to go home for a bit and asked for his permission.
She promised not to be gone more than two hours. Clearly, she'd settled into her role, accepting her status as his slave and treating him as the true master in her life.
It wasn't that Zhao wanted to lock Yan Qing down — the process itself was important. It implanted the psychological hint that every move of hers needed his approval, constantly reminding them of their place, helping them internalize him as the ruler of their lives, and willingly embracing being a slave or pet. For Zhao, it was also an extreme satisfaction of control.
He agreed, and Lin Jingjing, beside him, said she had time and would supervise — she could seamlessly switch between S and M modes now.
As he was about to hang up, a crisp sound came through — Lin smacking Yan's ass. Then Yan's voice, respectful: "Thank you, Master, for granting your unworthy slave permission."
Hanging up, Zhao was pleased with both women's performance, and his thoughts turned to managing his women in the future.
He was sure he'd have more women — couldn't give each the detailed training he'd given these three. He'd need to rank them, letting high-level, loyal women manage and train the others, as Lin did with Yan. Lin had started with him for money, but now she was his most reliable, loyal woman — easily deserving a higher position among the slaves.
Right now, Lin, Yan, and Ye Peiqi were different cases. Lin and Yan, as adults with simple social circles, could stay with him long-term without raising eyebrows, and he genuinely needed them for daily chores. Ye, as a college-bound student, would have her own life — Zhao couldn't and wouldn't control her like the other two.
After experiencing three utterly obedient women, Zhao wasn't satisfied with just playing with women — he wanted ones with status and independence.
In public, they'd be various professions, identities, positions; in private, they'd become slaves, pets, even furniture — that's where the thrill was.
Take Ye: she'd applied to the Dance Department at Jiangcheng Conservatory. Zhao planned to push her to become an outstanding dancer, raise her fame and status there, and then, when she returned to him glowing with prestige, she'd shed every mask and become a bitch. That's far more fun than playing with a plain high school grad.
So Zhao decided to divide his slaves into confined and free-range. Lin and Yan were clearly confined.
Confined slaves would have a set living area — currently a hotel room, eventually his residence. All activity is confined to that space, leaving only with his permission and within time limits.
Everything — meals, sleep, bathing, chores — would be controlled, following preset routines unless he ordered otherwise. They'd maintain some contact with society but mostly stay apart, becoming collectibles satisfying his control.
Ye would be a free-range slave — the category most women would fall into later. They'd live as they pleased, obeying only when he gave orders. They'd have careers, social status, and a glamorous public life. But on command, they'd become his slaves, obeying all orders, feeding his conquest desires.
Even free-range slaves had limits — like Zhao banning Ye from posting dance photos that showed her thighs. No revealing clothes in front of other men, no physical contact, and all social activity is subject to his inspection.
Details would be worked out as he gained more women.
Thinking this, Zhao felt a slight stir below. He knew this was just an early concept — execution needed more planning. And to realize this vision, he'd first need palace-like accommodations; normal houses or even regular villas wouldn't cut it.
The system gave him over 3 million yuan a year — pocket change compared to his new goals. He needed faster ways to make money.
No clear path yet, but at least he had a definite target now.