HDRDTH -Chapter 109 This Song Can Strengthen the Body

Jinshui Bay Villa No. 1. The pure copper door stood wide open.

The night wind howled into the living room.

Yu Xian wore his pilled gray old-man shirt and shuffled in plastic slippers, his face full of suppressed sleep anger.

The man in the Zhongshan suit at the front pulled out a black ID and opened it in front of Yu Xian.

“National Security Administration, Special Investigation Division Chief, Zhao Tiejun.”

His voice was hard and metallic, carrying the sharpness of a soldier.

“Comrade Yu, five minutes ago, your ICBC account ending in 8848 received a $1 billion overseas transfer.”

“The sender account belongs to the top-secret line of the Tokyo Intelligence Center of the Grand Wa Empire.”

Zhao Tiejun stared directly into Yu Xian’s eyes, his right hand instinctively resting on his sidearm.

“This is an extremely large sum, and its origin is highly dangerous. We need a reasonable explanation.”

Yu Xian scratched his messy hair and yawned loudly right in front of the national security chief.

“Middle of the night, and you’re here checking water meters?”

He turned and walked toward the sofa.

“They insisted on sending money. What was I supposed to do? I didn’t even want to give them the account number.”

Zhao Tiejun frowned and followed cautiously with two agents into the living room.

Yu Xian fished his phone out from between the sofa cushions, turned it on, and casually tossed it over.

“Look for yourself.”

“I told them if they were missing even a cent, I’d flatten their headquarters. And they actually sent it. These guys must be crazy—too much money burning holes in their pockets.”

He sat down heavily and took a sip of cold goji berry water from the coffee table.

Zhao Tiejun caught the phone with one hand and quickly scanned the screen.

Sender: the classified Tokyo Intelligence Center line.

Message: The Grand Wa Empire admits defeat and offers $1 billion, requesting cessation of the “Scallion-Braise Operation” and stadium array cleansing.

Yu Xian’s reply: “I don’t need your billion. Shut up and send the money. ICBC account ending 8848. Miss even a cent and I’ll flatten your headquarters tomorrow.”

Zhao Tiejun’s hand on the gun trembled violently.

He stared at the word “request” in the message for a full five seconds.

A sovereign nation’s intelligence center… using such language to beg a Chinese citizen for mercy.

His first reaction wasn’t shock—it was professional suspicion.

He quickly pulled out an encrypted communicator, turned toward the window, and spoke in a low voice.

“Headquarters, code Iron Wall. I’m at Jinshui Bay No. 1. Verify the sender identity of this transfer immediately.”

“Also, pull all abnormal incident logs from the Beijing stadium area tonight.”

“What? Already confirmed?”

“Thirteen signal sources simultaneously went dark?”

The voice on the other end of the line was frantic and almost fanatical.

Zhao Tiejun’s back stiffened visibly. Cold sweat soaked through his cotton shirt.

He slowly turned around and looked at Yu Xian sitting on the sofa scratching his foot.

In that moment, the pilled old shirt looked to him like an invincible divine armor.

He finally understood what “I didn’t even want to give them the account number” meant.

This wasn’t arrogance.

It was dimensional-level contempt—completely crushing a nation’s intelligence apparatus psychologically.

“Mr… Mr. Yu.”

His tone changed instantly.

He stepped forward and returned the phone with both hands, like he was handling a national treasure.

Then he snapped his feet together and gave a perfect military salute.

“We were impolite.”

He took a deep breath.

“This money is strategic enemy funds seized by you alone.”

Headquarters has confirmed it is fully legal. The National Security Administration will process it through special channels—$1 billion, tax-free in full.

Yu Xian picked his ear.

“Yeah, whatever. Do as you like.”

He tossed the phone back onto the sofa, clearly annoyed.

“Can I go upstairs and sleep now?”

“Of course. Please rest.”

Zhao Tiejun responded loudly.

“From today onward, the National Security Administration will deploy elite agents around Jinshui Bay 24/7 to ensure your peace. No disturbance will reach you.”

“Don’t.”

Yu Xian raised a hand immediately.

“You guys staying away from me is the best protection. Just close the door when you leave.”

He shuffled upstairs in slippers without looking back.

Zhao Tiejun watched his retreating figure disappear at the staircase corner, throat rolling hard.

Ten billion dollars landed—and he didn’t even blink.

All he cared about was being disturbed while sleeping.

Twenty years in special investigations, and this was the first time he had seen someone treat money like garbage while standing at a higher dimension of existence.

He quietly left the villa, carefully closing the copper door without making a sound, as if afraid of disturbing a deity.

Yu Xian returned to bed, rolled over comfortably, and closed his eyes.

Before falling asleep, a thought flickered through his mind.

Ten billion USD… that’s over eighty billion RMB. How many worms could that buy?

But he quickly dismissed it.

Last time he used expensive bait, he hooked a nuclear submarine.

The more expensive the bait, the weirder the catch.

Forget it—tomorrow he’d just dig free earthworms.

He smacked his lips, turned over, and fell asleep peacefully.

At the same time, thousands of kilometers away in Beijing.

The atmosphere inside the 100,000-seat stadium had reached its peak after the sonic matrix cleansing.

The final echoes of “Opening the Door, Seeing the Mountain” still reverberated under the dome.

In the backstage control room, Chu Feng stared at the radar screen—now completely cleared of enemy signals—and finally exhaled deeply.

The crisis was over.

On stage, Wang Fei held the microphone, gazing reverently at the 80,000狂热 audience.

“Next is a very special song.”

Her voice echoed across the stadium, instantly silencing the crowd.

“Mr. Yu said this song was specially composed for me and my sister Su Qian.”

“He said this song can strengthen the body and improve circulation.”

Her expression turned solemn, as if announcing some sacred martial arts technique.

“Next, please welcome my sister Su Qian to the stage.”

The lift platform slowly rose from backstage.

A cold white spotlight dropped instantly.

The entire stadium froze.

Even Elder Li and Lin Jianguo in the VIP seats were stunned.

Wang Fei had taken off the old T-shirt and changed into gray overalls with a black fitted inner layer. Her hair was neatly parted down the middle.

Fifteen-year-old Su Qian wore an identical smaller version of the overalls, also with a neat middle part—and was even holding an orange basketball.

Three days ago, she had been brought from Jiangcheng to Beijing by Wang Fei under the excuse of “seeing the world,” and had taken a week off school.

No glamorous gowns.

No ethereal costumes.

The two sisters simply stood there in matching overalls under the spotlight of a 100,000-seat stadium.