Chapter Thirty-Five: The Man Called Young Master

“What’s wrong with you?! Can’t you even keep an eye on one person?! x＠joaxx…”

Xiahou Yu pulled the phone away from his ear, his lips twisting in frustration. The person on the other end didn’t wait for his reply; after berating him, he spat out, “I’ll come there myself,” and hung up furiously.

Ah, he knew it would come to this. He’d long anticipated that only when something happened to Yingyue would that person cast aside all dignity and elegance, behaving like a drunkard on the street.

But he couldn’t blame him—it was his own failure for losing track of someone. He’d already instructed others to search, but so far, there was no news. Even after reviewing the surveillance footage, they’d found nothing useful. Yingyue had returned to her room safely, without coming into contact with anyone along the way.

Yet, not long after she returned, when he called her again, the room was empty—she was gone without a trace.

How could that be? How could someone vanish so completely, as if swallowed by thin air? Who was behind this? Was the target Yingyue alone, or was it because of him?

If it was solely because of Yingyue, that would be manageable. But if he was the reason, Xiahou Yu’s expression turned grim, his lips pressed into a tight line, then the situation was far more dangerous—it could escalate beyond control.

After receiving Xiahou Yu’s call, Yuwen Xi said nothing and simply hung up. He made several calls in quick succession, then rose to head for Rome.

Xiahou Yu, helpless, rubbed his nose and slipped his phone into his pocket. Turning, his face hardened. Clearly, he would need to send more people.

Somewhere in Rome, the roar of engines echoed from above. A small, golden plane was descending, unmarked by any insignia. The private airfield was deserted except for a handful of men in black suits, their faces expressionless as they waited in silence for the arrival.

Finally, calm returned to the surroundings and the cabin door eased open. A pair of long legs, clad in black fitted trousers, stepped out with measured grace, followed by a tall, slender figure. The newcomer wore an oversized black hoodie, the deep hood concealing their face. As the wind swept past, it lifted the edge of the hood, revealing a pale jaw beneath large dark sunglasses, lips tinged rose, and a faint stubble along the chin.

“Master,” the black-clad men bowed their heads in deference, not daring to show the slightest disrespect.

The young master nodded slightly and asked, “Any news?”

A barely perceptible tension flickered through the group. The leader stepped forward respectfully, “None yet,” he replied, brief and to the point.

The young master clenched a fist at his side, then relaxed it just as swiftly, as if nothing had happened.

With a hoarse voice he commanded, “Keep monitoring. Look for anyone suspicious in Rome lately, and investigate the people she came into contact with before she disappeared.”

“Yes, Master,” came the unwavering response.

Without another word, the young master strode toward the exit.

Yingyue awoke groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes in confusion. Why had she slept so long? She looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings.

Where was she?

She clearly remembered being in her hotel room at the Rome branch—so why was she here?