If the person who hit Second Brother is really there, then this is no simple matter. Now is definitely not the time to alert the enemy. This isn’t just about Second Brother’s car accident—it also concerns Grandpa...
Inside a corrugated iron shed by the docks, a few men sat around a bonfire cooking beef. Suddenly, Brother Hong rushed in, looking panicked. “Peng-ge!”
Qian Peng glanced up at him, took a swig straight from a beer bottle, and sneered, “What’s got you in such a rush? Somebody out to kill you?”
The men in the shed burst into laughter at that.
Brother Hong stammered helplessly but let them laugh. He grabbed a chair, sat down, and immediately downed a whole bottle of beer.
Shen Yanchén dialed Lu Chaoran’s number.
Lu Chaoran had just gone to bed. Annoyed by the ringing phone, he raked his hair back and snapped, “This better be important, or I’m going to lose it and bite you!”
“I’ve found the person responsible for the accident.”
Hearing that, Lu Chaoran instantly perked up. “Send me the location.”
“I suspect there’s someone orchestrating this behind the scenes.” Just catching the perpetrator isn’t enough. If the real mastermind isn’t exposed, there’ll only be more tragedies.
Lu Chaoran rolled over, suddenly wide awake. “I’m on my way.”
——
“Get in there!” A man was shoved into the room, his face battered and swollen. The force of the shove threw him to the floor, where he let out a howl of pain.
“Peng-ge, this guy owes us money and refuses to pay. What should we do?”
Qian Peng glared at the man on the ground, his tattooed neck radiating menace, the very picture of a gangster.
He looked down at the man, a wicked smile playing on his lips. “Then chop off one of his hands and send it back to his family. Let’s see them fork over the cash for ransom.”
Coming from him, it sounded as easy as squashing a bug—business as usual.
The man on the ground trembled uncontrollably. “No! Please, Peng-ge, my daughter has money. Don’t cut off my hand, I’ll call her—I’ll get her to bring the money!”
Qian Peng shot a look at his lackey. “Fine. But if the cash isn't here in three hours, I’m taking a hand.”
Li Guangliang nodded desperately. “Don’t worry, Peng-ge, I’ll get it done.”
Qian Peng had someone hand him his phone. Li Guangliang accepted it with shaking hands.
Tonight, Li Qiuchi was filming a night scene. Fresh off set, she was texting Bryce Shaw when she saw a strange number calling. After hesitating for a moment, she answered.
“Qiuchi, please—you have to help your dad!”
The sound of Li Guangliang’s voice made Li Qiuchi want to hang up immediately, but the desperation in his tone gave her pause.
She stepped aside with the phone, her voice edged with impatience. “What is it?”
“Please, you have to save me! They’re going to chop off my hand!”
Li Qiuchi’s irritation flared. “Haven’t you played this same drama enough? They want to cut your hand off? Go ahead! Maybe it’ll finally cure your gambling addiction.”
With that, she hung up without hesitation.
Every time Li Guangliang looked for her, it was always for money. Whatever shred of father-daughter affection she’d once had was long gone. Whether he lived or died now meant nothing to her.
Li Guangliang stared dumbly at the call log, then looked up at Qian Peng in panic. “I-I’ll try again. She won’t abandon me...”
He dialed again, but only got a busy signal.
Qian Peng snatched the phone from his hand and kicked him hard.
“You think you can fool me? Cut off his hand!”
“No! Please don’t—” Li Guangliang screamed as men pinned him down and placed his right hand on the table. He trembled so violently, he nearly passed out from fear.
Just as the knife was about to fall, Lu Chaoran burst in with a squad.
“Don’t move! Police!”
——
In the interrogation room, Qian Peng lounged in his chair, utterly at ease, not the least bit afraid of being caught. He watched Lu Chaoran with mocking eyes.
“That guy owed me money. I was just scaring him, didn’t actually do anything. You really brought me in for this? Isn’t that a bit much?”
Lu Chaoran eyed the tattoo on his neck, already recognizing him. He tossed a photo in front of Qian Peng and spoke coldly. “Is this you?”
Qian Peng just shrugged and grinned. “How could that be me? Officer, just because someone in a picture has the same tattoo as me, you’re saying it’s me? There are plenty of people with neck tattoos out there. Why not haul them all in?”
Lu Chaoran was about to reply when the door opened and Officer Zhao Jiang stepped in. He whispered a few words to Lu Chaoran, then left again.
Lu Chaoran stared thoughtfully at Qian Peng. Qian Peng lounged back, not the slightest bit perturbed.
Meanwhile, Shen Yanchén sat in the living room for a long time before a call from Lu Chaoran made him finally relax a little.
“You were right—Qian Peng made bail.”
“I see. Thanks,” Shen Yanchén replied flatly.
Lu Chaoran gave a wry chuckle, ribbing him. “Since when did Third Young Master Shen get so courteous?”
Shen Yanchén stayed silent, about to hang up when Lu Chaoran stopped him. “If you find out who’s actually behind all this, let me know. I want to be the one to bring them to justice.”
Shen Yanchén paused. “Alright.”
Outside, a northern wind howled past the window. For some reason, an uneasy feeling lingered in Shen Yanchén’s chest.
A while later, his phone chimed twice—it was Yuan Ran. His brow twitched as he opened the messages.
The photo from Yuan Ran made Shen Yanchén clench the phone so tightly his fingertips turned white.
Qian Peng had just gotten into a car. Shen Yanchén recognized the driver—a man who worked for Xue Wenchang, named Uncle Lu.
——
Qian Peng lounged in the backseat, looking at Uncle Lu with a smug grin. “I knew you guys wouldn’t just abandon me.”
Uncle Lu drove, scowling. “I warned you—don’t let the police find out you exist, or you’ll be in serious trouble.”
“What’s there to be scared of? Didn’t you already find a scapegoat for me? Even if I stood right in front of Bryce Shaw, he’d never recognize me.”
Grinning, Qian Peng fished out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
Suddenly, Uncle Lu slammed the brakes, sending the pack tumbling to the floor. As Qian Peng bent down to pick it up, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that Uncle Lu had pulled out a knife.
He jerked back. “Uncle Lu, what are you doing?”
Uncle Lu’s face twisted with malice. “You’ve been exposed. There’s no reason to keep you alive. Only the dead keep secrets—so go join your brother in hell.”
With a vicious glare, Uncle Lu lunged at him with the knife.