The entire ward floor was booked year-round by the Lu family, equipped with a private elevator and independent security.
Even the medical staff, disinfection systems, oxygen supply, and electricity were entirely independent of the regular wards.
The ward was protected by layer upon layer of security outside, with twenty-four-hour surveillance.
Without Lu Bingkun's personal permission, not even a member of the Lu family could take a single step inside.
Lu Bingkun had practically carved the word “paranoia” into his very bones.
Even when hanging by a thread, he absolutely refused to allow anyone to overstep in the slightest.
If Song Mo were here, she would definitely roast him without mercy:
“He really thinks he's an emperor.”
“The Qing Dynasty is long dead. Wake up.”
...
Inside the room, besides members of the Lu family, there were two private senior nurses on twenty-four-hour rotating shifts, as well as two Special Investigation Bureau officers in uniform.
Previously, in order to snatch an entry slot for the Taiping Cemetery Instance, Lu Bingkun had forcibly run a checkpoint, disrupted public order, and clashed with the Special Investigation Bureau officers on duty.
But the Special Investigation Bureau was also genuinely afraid that Lu Bingkun might actually die in prison.
If that happened, Chen Xi wouldn't be able to escape responsibility either.
Thus, caught between a rock and a hard place, Sun Zhao could only hold her nose and agree to his medical parole.
Although Lu Bingkun was temporarily spared from detention, he had to be kept under close twenty-four-hour surveillance by designated Special Investigation Bureau personnel.
At the same time, his travel abroad was restricted, and large-scale asset transfers were blocked, pending subsequent handling.
Otherwise, with Lu Bingkun's net worth and status, he could have easily returned to his own top-tier luxury mansion to recuperate.
After all, the equipment, medicine, and medical standards of his private healthcare team far exceeded those of the city hospital's standard VIP ward, making his mansion much more suitable for recovery.
...
The night was deep, and a dead silence filled the ward.
Inside the ultra-spacious, top-tier intensive care unit, a full set of imported, top-of-the-line life support equipment surrounded the hospital bed.
“Beep... beep... beep...”
The screens glowed with blue light, with countless incomprehensible parameters constantly changing.
In the sterile, climate-controlled ward, specialized painkiller injections and immune-boosting nutrient solutions—exorbitantly expensive medications—were continuously infused into Lu Bingkun's body.
But he wasn't sick.
He was simply old.
His body was gradually decaying and withering, and his physical functions were slowly shutting down.
Unless an immortal descended to earth, he was completely beyond saving.
...
“...Where is the item? Where is it?”
On the bed, Lu Bingkun reclined half-upright, his figure withered and emaciated.
“Bring it over.”
At this moment, he looked exactly like a living ghost.
His skin was shriveled and loose, his eyes deeply sunken, and his breathing so weak that he seemed ready to draw his last breath at any second.
His eyes were filled with sheer resentment.
He had built his empire from nothing, spilling blood with every step.
He had climbed to the top by stepping on countless skeletons, outliving his rivals and devouring the Chen family's entire estate.
He had schemed his entire life, finally securing this eternal wealth and immense power.
With his glory unfinished and his foundation still standing, why should he have to die?
Why should he, Lu Bingkun, be bound by the natural lifespan of ordinary humans?
Why couldn't his money and power buy him a single chance at survival?
Why couldn't he enter the Instance to fight for his life?
The Lu family's lawyer and secretary were still standing in the room.
Hearing Lu Bingkun speak, a nearby bodyguard hurriedly brought over a safe and opened it in front of everyone.
The safe was opened, revealing a box of dusty-looking rouge inside.
【Rouge Mud (Bronze): Ink-black soft mud, mostly found in places inhabited by water ghosts.
When used directly, it stops bleeding and slowly restores health (recovering 50% within 30 seconds), but will inflict the “Damp and Cold” status, reducing movement speed by 10%.】
A flicker of joy appeared in the depths of Lu Bingkun's eyes.
With the recovery of spiritual energy, Instances had manifested in the world.
Although the government strictly controlled all supernatural items, prohibiting private hoarding and monopolization by the wealthy and powerful, money could move even the gods, and power could bypass the law.
The Lu family possessed immense resources and connections spanning both the legal and underworld spheres.
To Lu Bingkun, spending eight million to purchase a life-prolonging item was an absolute steal.
After all, even a single nutrient injection he usually took cost more than eight million.
...
The lawyer and secretary on the side seemed accustomed to this. They brought the Rouge Mud over and carefully smeared it onto Lu Bingkun's skin.
Lu Bingkun immediately wore an expression of obsessed pleasure.
With every use, the pain racking his entire body seemed to vanish.
It was as if, in that fleeting moment, he was once again the all-powerful, endlessly energetic Lu Bingkun.
But this sensation lasted only an instant.
Lu Bingkun's expression turned gloomy again as he narrowed his eyes to endure the “Damp and Cold” status inflicted by the item.
“So... so magical...”
Each time the item took effect, it only made him more fanatically obsessed with supernatural power.
“Continue... acquiring the game items on the market.”
Lu Bingkun showed not a shred of grief over his son's death. His throat bobbed slightly as he spoke:
“No matter how much money... no matter how strict the government controls are—black market, private players, underground channels... acquire all life-prolonging supernatural items infinitely, regardless of the cost or quantity.”
“The Lu family has plenty of money. I'm willing to trade my entire estate just to buy my life... if I die, everything goes to zero.”
How could he possibly accept this?
He had to live! He wanted to live!
The personal secretary immediately responded in a low voice, “Yes, Chairman.”
...
Outside the ward, the entire corridor was brightly lit.
Except for Lu Jianming, who had died in the Instance, and Chen Jianhua, who had gone abroad in his early years, almost the entire Lu family was gathered here.
Lu Bingkun had been incredibly promiscuous and dissolute throughout his life. Aside from his second and third wives, he had countless mistresses.
Consequently, he had nine legally registered children, and his illegitimate children overseas were too numerous to count.
At this moment, all his adult children, daughters-in-law, sons-in-law, grandchildren, and younger descendants were gathered in the hundred-meter-long corridor.
They were all dressed solemnly, their faces masked in grief.
Some sobbed softly, while others knit their brows.
Some whispered in pairs, while others were filled with worry.
There were also those who kept vigil all night, refusing to leave, weeping for their “unfortunately” deceased eldest brother and their dying father.
Yet beneath their shifting thoughts and exchanging glances, there was nothing but wariness and calculation.
Everyone was well aware of the truth:
They were all waiting here for only two things: to wait for Lu Bingkun to draw his last breath, and to guard against him making a will.
They wished nothing more than for Lu Bingkun to breathe his last immediately—ideally dying on the spot.
This way, they could immediately split up his hundreds of billions in family wealth, group shares, domestic and foreign real estate, offshore assets, and industry chain resources, taking whatever they wanted.
Yet, ironically, the Lu family was also most terrified of Lu Bingkun drawing his last breath.
Because the cunning old fox had not left a single will to this day.
It was as if, having controlled everything his entire life, he insisted on keeping his children under his thumb even on his deathbed, refusing to relinquish power.
Thus, a crowd of immediate blood relatives put on a farcical, hypocritical show right in this corridor.
They hoped for his death, yet feared his sudden demise.
They hoped he would hand over power, yet feared he would distribute it chaotically.
Factions clashed, and they schemed against each other in secret.
They remained wary of one another, constantly undermining each other.
...
“...They are all like me... which is both a good thing and a bad thing... As long as I don't draw my last breath, they can forget about getting anything...”
Inside the ward, Lu Bingkun sneered. He didn't even need his secretary to report to guess how everyone was reacting.
“This pack of useless... fools... once I fall, the Lu Group... will face a reckoning... they won't be able to handle it...”
“And... Lu Jianming, that useless piece of trash.”
He cursed in a low voice, his breath weak, but his hatred was undiminished:
“I gave him such a massive opportunity... but he was useless. He deserved... to die...”
Right then, there was a soft, rhythmic knock on the ward door.
The personal secretary immediately stepped forward and quietly spoke with the security personnel outside.
After listening to the report, he bowed his head and leaned in close to Lu Bingkun's ear, whispering:
“Chairman, the matter you asked me to investigate has been resolved. Our people in Hong Kong sent back an urgent update; Mrs. Chen's tomb has been fully inspected. The main structure of the tomb is intact, the concrete seal has no cracks, the soul-suppressing lime hasn't dispersed, the copper coin sword buildings are fine, and the deity statues are being worshiped as usual. The master said the array is operating stably without any anomalies.”
“As for this year's salvation ceremony, the master has already prepared for it in advance.”
These words acted like a soothing pill, instantly putting Lu Bingkun's mind at ease.
For some reason, over the past few days, he had constantly dreamed of Lu Jianming tilting his head and crying for help, and had even dreamed of old events in Fujian.
Lu Bingkun viewed his past experience with the Chen family as a disgrace, so he forbade anyone from mentioning it.
Even he himself rarely thought about it.
Chen Shulan's face had already grown blurry in his memory, but Lu Bingkun still felt somewhat uneasy. Taking a breath, he slowly said:
“Notify Hong Kong... allocate an additional twenty million in special funding.”
“For this year's Grand Rite of Water and Land, make sure, absolutely make sure, the master chants for a full forty-nine days.”
“Tell Master Zhang that he must stabilize the array, eliminate all retribution, and keep me... safe. Ensure that I pass through this tribulation safely.”
The lawyer nodded, clearly having known this already.
Then, he opened a high-definition aerial panoramic video on his phone and held it before Lu Bingkun's eyes.
Lu Bingkun forced himself to focus and inspect it personally.
On the screen, situated on a prime feng shui spot in Hong Kong's famous mountains, a grand and luxurious double tomb stood quietly.
Its exterior was incredibly magnificent:
White marble balustrades, gilded inscriptions, calligraphy by famous masters, stone beasts standing guard, and surrounding lush greenery—every detail boasted of deep mourning and affection.
Upon the headstone, the words “Tomb of Beloved Wife Chen Shulan and Beloved Son Chen Jialin” gleamed with gold even in the rain.
Although the layout was grand, a closer look revealed a subtle, unsettling oddity.
The entire main body of the tomb was completely capped with reinforced concrete!
And beneath the floor tiles surrounding the tomb, the ground was packed with quicklime.
A hundred meters away on the left and right sides of the tomb, two ultra-tall office buildings rose into the sky, shaped like copper coin swords.
On the surrounding hills stood four temples housing deity statues.
How was this an affectionate tomb to mourn a beloved wife and remember a young son?
It was clearly a soul-suppression array.
...
Lu Bingkun confirmed everything, finally letting out a breath, a fleeting sense of security rising in his heart.
He was only eighty-seven years old.
He wouldn't die. He refused to die.
In any case, if medical science couldn't save him, the supernatural could.
Instances, spiritual energy, the supernatural, unknown forces... these things were his only path to prolonging his life.
Lu Bingkun lowered his eyes, his eyelids drooping as if he had fallen asleep.
Only then did the lawyer and secretary leave with light steps.
For a time, only the sounds of the medical equipment remained in the room.
The night grew deeper and deeper.
By eleven o'clock at night, the entire inpatient building had fallen completely quiet.
The ticking of the monitors was magnified infinitely, the “beep, beep, beep” echoing in the empty ward, sounding exceptionally monotonous and eerie.
...
Lu Bingkun leaned against the headboard, completely sleepless.
The shadow of death pressed heavily upon his head.
Suddenly, he seemed to hear a faint sound.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
The sound was far away, yet seemed incredibly close, like heavy shackles scraping against the floor, or someone slowly walking while dragging chains behind them.
Lu Bingkun snapped his eyes open, straining his ears to listen closely.
It sounded as if a faint, indistinct weeping had started up. His heart jolted, and he immediately urged the nurse to go downstairs and check.
After a while, the nurse returned with a pale face, stammering as she told Lu Bingkun that someone downstairs had just passed away.
Lu Bingkun's face instantly turned ashen, and he spat out a curse:
“Fuck! Which bastard is it?! Call the master—no, call the people from the Special Investigation Bureau! Get them over here!”
Under the grip of intense fear, he was actually able to finish the entire sentence in a single breath.
It was practically a medical miracle.
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