APR 50

Zhong Su’s sudden burst of ferocity choked the leader, leaving him gasping for breath. He struggled desperately for a moment before completely losing his voice. His flushed face gradually turned purple, his eyes rolled back, and he was on verge of shock.

At this critical moment, several sharp and urgent police sirens pierced through the rainy night, pressing closer from afar.

“Damn, what’s going on? How did those dead cops arrive so quickly?”

“What should we do? Should we leave?” The remaining thugs simultaneously looked at each other, seeing panic in each other’s eyes.

The police were coming, should they run or not? If they ran, they could still escape now; if they didn’t, they would definitely be arrested and taken to the police station, and it would be difficult to get out later.

Seeing their hesitation, Zhong Su pushed further, throwing the exhausted henchman onto the ground. The heavy body slammed heavily onto the ground: “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance. Take your man away.”

The man’s face plunged into a puddle, emitting painful groans while his body curled up, looking extremely uncomfortable.

The air froze for a few seconds before someone spoke first: “Let’s retreat first. We can’t let this escalate too much—the police are already here. We’ll go back today and catch him next time.”

“Go, help him up! What are you standing around for? Hurry!” He kicked a stunned young man behind him.

“Ah, oh, oh.”

Others quickly helped lift the henchman’s feet and hands, carrying him back to the van like a pig. As soon as the door closed, the van shot out like an arrow from a bow, spewing thick black smoke from the exhaust pipe, fleeing the scene in panic.

Only when those debt collectors completely disappeared from sight did Zhong Su’s tense nerves finally relax.

He suddenly lost strength, gasping for breath, and wiped away the rainwater threatening to flow into his mouth.

Running all the way here, he had stepped into countless puddles, dirty water seeping into his shoes while the rain soaked his clothes. Messy strands of hair clung to his cheeks, making him look wet and disheveled.

Chen Huan’s attitude was casual and indifferent, unmoved by Zhong Su’s disheveled appearance. He asked, “Are you done now? I don’t have time to wait until you’re ready.”

He pointedly added, “Neither do the police rushing here.”

In this situation, it would have been better if Chen Huan hadn’t spoken—once he did, Zhong Su couldn’t hold back.

Zhong Su walked over, stepping on the fallen cleaver. The blade bent under his foot, scraping against the ground with a grating sound.

He leaned down, staring straight at Chen Huan: “Compared to dealing with the police, what I care more about is—you just watched without intending to help at all?”

Chen Huan’s eyes seemed to say, “What else?” He rubbed the thorn tattoo on his neck and leisurely said, “Your skills are decent, the fight was somewhat interesting.”

The implication was that since Zhong Su could handle it alone, he didn’t want to intervene.

Seeing Chen Huan so justified, Zhong Su’s intended words seemed blocked in his throat. Angry and speechless, he put on his hood and turned to leave.

Chen Huan rested one hand on the car window, calling out to him: “Get in the car. I’ll drive you home.”

Zhong Su glanced back at him: “Not helping, huh?”

The dark-skinned man’s eyes remained sharp and dazzling. He rubbed the water droplets rolling down the car window with his index finger, looking at Zhong Su with a half-smile. “Wouldn’t you rather take a ride than walk home in the rain?”

As if echoing Chen Huan’s words, the rain grew heavier. Water continuously dripped from Zhong Su’s face. He turned and saw several police officers appearing near the alley entrance. They held flashlights, beams of light swinging wildly in the dim rain curtain, seemingly stopping witnesses to inquire about the details of what had just happened.

Whether as a victim or a suspect involved in a fight with debt collectors, Zhong Su didn’t want to be taken to the police station to give a statement.

He pulled open the car door and got in. As the door closed, the damp chill and the sound of pattering rain were temporarily shut out. The car’s air conditioning blew a gentle warm breeze, making Zhong Su feel much warmer, and his cold, stern expression softened slightly.

He clenched a corner of his clothes, squeezing out water that dripped onto the car mat, spreading dark stains.

Chen Huan didn’t rush to tell the driver to start but instead scrutinized Zhong Su, his invasive gaze moving from the young man’s eyes down to the red mole on his wrist.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, with a hint of teasing. “Quite a lively scene, with police and ambulances. What were those people chasing you just now?”

“Oh, that,” Zhong Su didn’t believe Chen Huan couldn’t guess. While continuing to wring water from his clothes, he replied casually, “You already know, right? Such an old-fashioned plot, people chasing others to attack are either enemies or loan sharks.”

“I owe those people some money, can’t repay it, they’re chasing me for the debt. That’s it.”

If Zhong Su had flushed red like all debtors trying to lie, that reaction would have been boring. But he was so calm, as if the situation where he nearly lost his life earlier was nothing.

That was quite interesting.

Chen Huan let out a low, hoarse chuckle from his throat, his chest trembling slightly. “So you’re quite capable, not only owe me money but also dare to owe loan sharks.”

Chen Huan teased a couple of sentences, seemingly hinting at something. Zhong Su couldn’t grasp his meaning, so he bluntly asked, “Why don’t you just say directly what you came to find me for?”

Zhong Su carefully recalled that he had been very obedient recently, not actively approaching Chen Huan. He truly couldn’t figure out why Chen Huan had come to him.

Chen Huan’s aura was too wild, always reminiscent of a sleek black leopard sprinting through the jungle. Now, with one hand supporting his chin, staring at Zhong Su, he seemed poised to pounce on prey, his fierce canine teeth slightly exposed. “I remembered something. Shortly after Su Er fell into the sea, I wanted to find his family, so I investigated his life before his death. I discovered that in his final days, he frequently went inland, but I couldn’t find out what he did there.”

Zhong Su’s brow twitched, surprised by Chen Huan’s mention of helping find his family, nearly stammering. “I—uh, no, you mean… you suspect Xiao Zhong Ge hid something from you?”

But he believed he had almost no secrets from Chen Huan, whether his orphan background or his reasons for joining the gang, he never hid anything.

Apart from his current firm decision to never admit his identity, Zhong Su truly couldn’t think of anything he had done seven years ago that Chen Huan didn’t know about.

Chen Huan’s eyes curved slightly, but the cold smile didn’t reach their depths. “It’s not suspicion, it’s certainty. He kept something from me.”

He leaned closer, his breath almost brushing against Zhong Su’s brows and lashes, his gaze fixed intently on the subtle shifts in Zhong Su’s expression. Softly, he said, “And you know the truth.”

The distance between them was too close. Zhong Su could even feel the damp heat rising from his soaked clothes, mingling with the oppressive aura emanating from the other man.

One thing.

“I don’t know anyth—” Zhong Su retreated uncomfortably, his back pressing against the car door. Just as the denial was about to leave his lips, he suddenly remembered that before going to Seven Rocks Island, he had indeed been planning to leave the gang and open an auto repair shop inland. For that purpose, he had made several trips inland to scout for suitable locations and storefronts.

He had even asked Chen Huan if he wanted to partner up, but since Chen Huan had already made it clear he wasn’t interested, Zhong Su hadn’t brought it up again.

“Xiao Zhong Ge wanted to go clean back then…” Zhong Su paused before continuing, “So he rented a storefront inland, planning to start a legitimate business.”

“Where is the shop? Take me there.”

“Wait—it’s so late now, and you want to go see it?” Zhong Su was momentarily speechless, his gaze at Chen Huan filled with disbelief, as if asking, “Are you out of your mind?”

From Yan Port to the inland, even taking the direct cross-sea bridge, it would take at least two hours of driving to get there. By the time they actually arrived, the sky would be nearly dawn, and they’d be exhausted from staying up all night.

Having gotten the answer he wanted, Chen Huan no longer pressed Zhong Su. He sat back in his seat, glanced at him, and said, “I’m asking for the address, not seeking your opinion. Say it, and don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Chen Huan, stop messing around. I have a shoot tomorrow afternoon, I can’t accompany you on an overnight trip inland…” Zhong Su’s expression darkened. He tried to open the car door, but it had only cracked open a sliver when Chen Huan’s calm voice drifted from behind him, light as a feather yet sharp enough to chill the bones.

“You can try to refuse, walk out of here, but I promise you’ll regret it, regret it so much you’ll wish you were dead. If you’d rather come back later, kneel, and beg me for another chance, I won’t mind that either.”

The car door emitted a faint creak in the silence, as if even the machinery trembled. Zhong Su stared at Chen Huan for a moment, seeing only stubborn darkness in his eyes, a profound, impenetrable gloom.

Once again, he realized with absolute clarity: there was no winning against this man. Chen Huan’s patience was terrifyingly vast, and the outcome of resisting him would certainly not be in his favor.

“This is the last time,” Zhong Su bit the soft flesh inside his cheek, irritably pressing his throbbing temples.

After this, he absolutely would not indulge Chen Huan’s outrageous behavior again.

He leaned back against the seat and reluctantly gave an address: “No. 147 Linzhou Road, Shenguang City. That’s the address. Drive, but don’t blame me for giving you the address and making you go on a pointless trip if you’re not satisfied when we get there.”

Without another word, Chen Huan instructed the driver to turn the car around.

The car glided smoothly and swiftly through the city, ascending onto the cross-sea bridge that spanned the two shores. The bridge’s structure was outlined by countless bands of lights, tracing its graceful silhouette against the night sky like a glowing ribbon floating above the sea. Deep purple, golden pink, and sky-blue hues intertwined in a dazzling, romantic display.

Yet, the two inside the car had no mind to appreciate the beautiful scene before them. One wore a displeased, tense expression, while the other seemed lost in thought, allowing the neon lights to flicker across their face.