Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Song Jianan's impromptu escape plan was riddled with flaws. Song Yuqiao effortlessly tracked his movements and, upon confirming his safety, felt a wave of relief. He immediately boarded a private jet to Yuanzhou, then drove to the general vicinity.

With Song Jianan's phone GPS deactivated, his location could only be approximated via cell tower triangulation. Song Yuqiao was in no state to book a hotel; he remained in his car, too cramped to stretch out. Occasionally, he would step out to smoke a few cigarettes, hoping Song Jianan might pass by.

In today's economically advanced society, money can, to some extent, be equated with power. The Song family's influence was vast, and Song Yuqiao's authority considerable. However, Yuanzhou was not Yunjing—a powerful dragon cannot overpower a local serpent. He couldn't act entirely as he pleased.

He endured until daybreak, but the person he sought did not appear. Estimating the time was right, he finally made a call to his contacts.

Next, he proceeded to the Yuanzhou Public Security Bureau, where he pulled surveillance footage, scrutinizing hundreds of screens for any trace.

Finally, catching sight of a familiar figure, Song Yuqiao's bloodshot eyes fixed intently on the monitor. He instructed Lin Shu to monitor the situation and report Song Jianan's movements immediately, while he took a local driver to give chase.

After navigating obstacles like traffic jams, losing track of Song Jianan after he took the subway, and even a car accident, Song Yuqiao's facial muscles tightened further, his expression becoming terrifyingly grim.

The driver, trembling with fear, became even more focused and cautious.

At 4:30 p.m., Lin Shu reported that Song Jianan had abruptly vanished from a surveillance feed, with many nearby cameras malfunctioning. Song Yuqiao was pushed to his limit, his eyes bloodshot, his face contorted with extreme panic and dread.

Suppressing his anxiety, his mind raced. He not only gave Lin Shu numerous instructions but also made countless calls himself, alarming a multitude of people.

Before Song Jianan could be located, a call came from Old Master Song. Song Yuqiao managed to deflect it for the time being.

Many relatives and friends also sent messages inquiring about the situation. When Cheng Feng called, Song Yuqiao intended to ignore it but accidentally answered.

Cheng Feng's teasing voice came through: "I heard the canary you've been caging flew away?"

Song Yuqiao's voice was slightly hoarse, icy but weary. "If there's nothing important, I'm hanging up."

Cheng Feng quickly interjected, "Hey, wait. I'm sending you a contact who might be able to help."

The profile picture on the contact Cheng Feng forwarded looked somewhat familiar. Upon seeing the name, Song Yuqiao remembered—it was Song Jianan's friend, Xie Mao. But he had no time to vet him; in his desperation, he added the contact and immediately called, stating his identity.

Xie Mao was taken aback, his expression turning serious.

They spoke briefly.

Just after hanging up, Song Zhen, who rarely contacted anyone, also called.

Song Zhen wasn't one to meddle.

Song Yuqiao frowned for a second before answering. "Eldest sister?"

Song Zhen said, "You're looking for Song Jianan, right? His disappearance might be related to Song Xifan. At Grandpa's birthday banquet, I overheard him seeking cooperation with Song Yuxuan, but Song Yuxuan refused. You might want to investigate Song Xifan."

"Thanks, eldest sister."

Song Yuqiao's brow furrowed deeply, his expression grim.

While awaiting updates, Song Yuqiao chain-smoked, unable to stop thinking about Jia Jia—whether he was suffering, whether he had been harmed, whether he was scared and trembling in a corner, too terrified even to cry.

Song Yuqiao's eyes burned, his face etched with regret.

If he had allowed Jia Jia to stay over, would Jia Jia not have suddenly run off to Yuanzhou? Would this not have happened?

It was just an overnight stay—why had he refused? If he disliked the hotel, couldn't he have simply found another one for Jia Jia and his friend? If he was worried about Jia Jia's safety, couldn't he have arranged for discreet protection?

He repeatedly questioned himself.

But even if he attributed everything to his unwarranted possessiveness and need for control, what good would it do? Would it bring Jia Jia back safely?

The light illuminated his eyes, a faint glimmer within them.

Lin Shu was taken aback by the sight.

Song Yuqiao lowered his head, stubbed out the cigarette, and when he looked up again, his expression was icy and sharp, completely transformed.

Lin Shu pushed his glasses up, almost thinking he had imagined it.

"Lin Shu, any results?"

Lin Shu hurriedly reported the latest updates.

Song Xifan had recently spent two extra hours at Sanshan Hall compared to usual and had actively sought out Song Yuxuan several times lately, seemingly being turned away each time. Additionally, suspicious transactions were found in Song Xiyin's account.

After listening in silence, Song Yuqiao said coldly, "Dig into the suspicious transactions in Song Xiyin's account, and investigate Song Yuxuan's side as well."

The following day, Song Yuqiao received a text message: "The person you're looking for is in my hands. Bring a million in cash to this location. Come alone, or face the consequences."

An address was attached.

Song Yuqiao gripped his phone tightly, his eyes fixed on the message, and instructed Lin Shu to contact the most elite guards from the Song security company.

He then drove alone to the address in the message.

Halfway there, his phone rang.

"President Song, we found him!"

The location they found was completely different from the address in the text.

*

The car stopped.

Song Jianan, dazed and disoriented, was dragged out of the car and thrown to the ground. His delicate body hit the hard floor, his skin stinging from the impact.

Then, the blindfold was removed.

He was in a dilapidated, narrow room with only one small, high window. The light was dim but sufficient to see.

One side of Song Jianan's cheek was scraped, dust unable to conceal the seeping blood. The other side was pale with an unnatural flush, sweat having dried and left marks. His chestnut-brown hair was disheveled over his forehead, his tear-filled eyes looking up at the figure standing before him, wide with fear and desperate pleading.

The bald man's cruel expression faltered, his eyes lingering on the figure on the ground, unable to look away.

Song Jianan's whole body was burning with fever, tormented by itchy, painful skin. His mind was muddled, and he instinctively cried for help from the nearest person.

The bald man, snapped out of his daze by Song Jianan's muffled cries, scowled, his thick eyebrows knitting together as he stared at him.

After a moment, he crouched down, pulled the cloth from Song Jianan's mouth, and asked in a low voice, "What do you want to say?"

"Medicine... there's medicine in the backpack... give me the medicine from the backpack."

Song Jianan struggled to breathe, as if his lungs were blocked. The air grew thinner, each breath a struggle.

As his physical reactions grew increasingly abnormal, Song Jianan gradually realized it wasn't motion sickness—his allergic reaction was worsening.

After vomiting once outside the car, they hadn't stuffed the cloth back into his mouth, so he immediately asked for medicine. However, they said he wouldn't die and ignored him. He asked multiple times but was quickly gagged again.

But he had no other choice. He didn't know what his fate would be after being kidnapped, but at least for now, he didn't want to die. He could only rely on instinct to plead with these criminals for help.

"Help me... I'll die without my medication..."

He curled up on the ground, struggling to crawl toward the bald man, tears streaming from his wide-open eyes, filled with pleading. He looked as pitiful as a blade of grass trampled underfoot, capable of being completely destroyed with just a light crush.

The bald man glanced toward the door, then stuffed the gag back into his mouth. "Wait."

Song Jianan's forced alertness suddenly faded, his consciousness gradually blurring. He faintly heard voices arguing.

Summer should have been scorching, but the rough cement floor had a penetrating chill. Wrapped in this cold, Song Jianan found it somewhat familiar—it felt like Song Yuqiao's embrace, cool, sometimes frightening, yet sometimes comforting.

His body trembled slightly. From the moment he was kidnapped until now, he had pretended to be calm, hiding his fear, but in reality, he had long been frantic and disoriented.

The kidnappers demanded a million. Who would they ask for it? Perhaps they planned to sell him, but as a Beta, who would pay a million for him? Maybe, just like in his previous life, some powerful figure who enjoyed toying with Betas would eagerly buy him.

Alternatively, the kidnappers might extract his organs and auction them on the black market for exorbitant prices; they'd get far exceeding a million.

The fear of the unknown gripped his mind tightly, mingling with the pain from his allergic reaction, almost crushing him. He felt utterly hopeless.

He didn’t know what to do. Trapped by the kidnappers, unable to escape, it felt like he could do nothing but wait for an unknown yet inevitably tragic fate.

The light in the room gradually dimmed, and his body grew colder.

He trembled even more violently; it took all his strength just to draw a breath.

In his daze, he thought he was being held by Song Yuqiao, just like after their encounters—weakly curled up in that cool embrace, firmly held by strong arms, his body shaking, his throat too dry to make a sound, struggling to breathe. Song Yuqiao would gently rub his back, kissing his forehead, his eyes, his lips.

"Brother..."

He murmured, his eyelids already heavy and closed, yet tears continued to stream down relentlessly.

"Hey, take your medicine."

The gag was yanked from Song Jianan's mouth. His jaw hung stiffly, almost unable to close, forced upward by a strong hand gripping his chin. There seemed to be a brief pause before the medicine was forcefully poured into his mouth. He was thrown back to the ground, and his mouth was stuffed again.

The man said something, but Song Jianan couldn’t make it out. Curled on the floor, he cried unconsciously, holding onto that slim hope.

He had thought of Song Yuqiao at his most desperate times before.

He couldn’t think of anyone else who might save him besides Song Yuqiao.

But would Song Yuqiao come to save him?

He didn’t know, just as he didn’t know if that final call in his previous life had ever gone through.

Song Jianan's thoughts grew increasingly muddled, wavering between drowsiness and brief clarity. When he opened his eyes, he stared blankly into the void, unable to feel the cold or heat, unaware of the changing light, and oblivious to the passage of time.

When a strong light flooded in, followed by heavy footsteps, Song Jianan didn’t move, his gaze vacant.

He thought he must be hallucinating—otherwise, how could he hear someone calling him "Jia Jia"?

That voice sounded so much like Song Yuqiao, yet so urgent, as if something precious had been lost and recovered.

His eyelashes fluttered, and his gaze slowly shifted toward the door, where he saw a familiar figure silhouetted against the light.