APR 8

The wedding banquet had entered its latter half, with some guests who had eaten and drunk their fill beginning to leave in succession.

Zhong Su glanced at the wall clock. It had been nearly half an hour since Chen Huan went out, he should have sobered up by now.

Zhong Su stood up, bid farewell to the uncles at his table, and left his seat to find Chen Huan so they could head home together.

As he passed a table near the door, the sharp-eyed Shou Hou spotted him and asked curiously, “Xiao Zhong Ge, leaving so early? Not joining us for karaoke afterward?”

Zhong Su casually waved his hand and said, “I’m not into singing, so I won’t join the fun. Have a good time.”

“Alright, take care.” Shou Hou tactfully didn’t press further and returned to loudly playing finger-guessing games with Da Xiong.

Zhong Su walked out of the seafood restaurant. A sudden rain had just fallen outside, filling the air with heavy moisture. In the distance, he spotted the young man waiting for him under the bicycle shed.

Chen Huan had excellent proportions—his legs seemed to start from his waist. One foot rested casually on the motorcycle pedal as he blew smoke rings toward the dark street corner. The smoke drifted past his brows, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Seeing Zhong Su approach, Chen Huan handed him the cigarette from his lips. Zhong Su took it, flicked off the ash, bit the filter, and took a drag.

“Tonight was a waste of time,” Chen Huan said.

Zhong Su shrugged, not disagreeing.

Zhong Su turned to study Chen Huan. In the dim light, his wheat-colored skin showed no trace of alcohol-induced redness.

Zhong Su asked, “How are you feeling? If you’re still unwell, don’t push it. We can leave the bike here, I’ll walk back with you. The breeze will help you sober up faster.”

The asphalt road was covered with a layer of rainwater. If the tires slipped and the motorcycle lost control, even a minor scrape on the bike would be troublesome, let alone if they got hurt.

Chen Huan glanced at him, his eyes clear as if the question was absurd. “I’m not drunk. Just a few shots of baijiu—can’t knock me down.”

“Fine, if you say you’re fine. Stubborn as a rock.” Zhong Su said flatly, flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, and crushed it under his foot.

He smoothly swung onto the back seat and wrapped his arms around Chen Huan’s waist as usual. “Then let’s go, boss. Drive slow, don’t crash.”

Chen Huan abruptly twisted the throttle, and the motorcycle shot forward, tires splashing through puddles.

“Hey—!” Zhong Su exclaimed at the sudden acceleration, instinctively tightening his grip around Chen Huan’s waist.

The night wind, carrying the scent of alcohol and fine raindrops, whipped against their faces. Chen Huan’s low, husky laughter blended with the engine roar, brimming with unrestrained recklessness. “Why panic? If we crash, feel free to blame me. I doubt you’d even dare to hold me accountable.”

Zhong Su’s heart hammered in his chest. The strong wind choked his words as he spat out, “Chen Huan, you lunatic.”

Chen Huan smirked smugly. “Hmm.”

After riding against the wind for a long stretch, the motorcycle gradually steadied, moving at a moderate pace along the wet street.

Zhong Su also calmed down, watching the neon lights reflect in the small puddles by the roadside.

Thump! A strong impact hit the rear of the bike, jolting the motorcycle violently.

Chen Huan instinctively swerved the handlebars, the tires carving a crooked arc on the slippery asphalt.

“What the hell?” Zhong Su turned his head to see eight or nine unfamiliar blue-and-white motorcycles that had emerged from some side road. One of them deliberately rammed into their vehicle while blaring its horn arrogantly.

Zhong Su noticed one of the passengers on the back seat had strikingly bright green hair fluttering wildly in the wind.

Realizing something was wrong immediately, Zhong Su grabbed Chen Huan’s clothes and said, “Chen Huan, don’t stop. This isn’t a regular accident – it’s that Zero Gang punk bringing people to cause trouble for us.”

No sooner had he spoken than the lead motorcycle’s engine roared as it suddenly swerved in front of Chen Huan’s vehicle, trying to force them to stop: “Stop if you know what’s good for you, or face the consequences.”

“You’re asking for death.” Chen Huan’s eyes turned fierce. Instead of slowing down, he twisted the throttle to maximum, crashing straight into the other motorcycle’s rear without any attempt to avoid it.

The lighter-framed motorcycle couldn’t withstand such impact and instantly lost balance, flipping sideways with its rider along the asphalt road, scraping out a series of glaring sparks.

The rider clutched his arm, bloodied from being scraped against the road, screaming in terror: “Ahhh—are you fucking crazy?!”

Chen Huan firmly stabilized the handlebars. The motorcycle only shook violently after the collision before continuing forward.

He glanced coldly through the rearview mirror at the remaining motorcycles in hot pursuit, their bright headlights resembling a pack of hungry wolves with gleaming eyes chasing prey in the darkness.

A contemptuous smirk tugged at Chen Huan’s lips as he said, “Su Er, hold on tight. We’re not going home yet – let’s deal with these people first.”

The handlebars turned sharply, tires splashing through puddles as they instantly deviated from the route home and charged up a mountain road leading to North Tong Mountain.

North Tong Mountain was Yan Gang’s largest mountain with numerous steep paths. Most people unfamiliar with the routes could easily get lost.

Zhong Su immediately understood – Chen Huan intended to use the terrain to shake off their pursuers.

He remained silent, quietly tightening his grip on Chen Huan.

The rain began to intensify, howling mountain winds carrying icy raindrops toward the motorcycle pack chasing along the mountain road.

Luo Shanyou grew increasingly frustrated seeing his enemies right before his eyes but unable to stop them. He yelled angrily at the rider in front of him: “Damn it, can you even ride this thing? Hurry up, they’re getting away!”

“Already at maximum speed, can’t go any faster,” the rider retorted angrily. This troublesome brat had been complaining and giving useless commands the whole journey while constantly cursing.

If not for the fact that this kid was the gang leader’s nephew, he would have thrown him off and beaten him senseless.

Luo Shanyou wouldn’t listen, reaching for the handlebars while shouting: “Bullshit! The speedometer needle hasn’t hit the limit yet! Accelerate!”

“Stop that!” the rider exclaimed in alarm, pushing his hand away.

Amid their struggle, a sharp horn blared like a warning siren.

They looked up to see a large truck loaded with massive logs appearing like a ghost around the curve ahead, its enormous body nearly filling the entire lane, heading straight toward their motorcycle group.

The truck driver kept blasting his horn as if unable to brake properly, warning them to get out of the way.

The rider broke out in a cold sweat, instinctively twisting the handlebars to swerve toward the roadside. He watched helplessly as the young man leading on the black-and-gold Yamaha leaned into a sharp turn, executing a near-insane drift that narrowly skimmed past the truck’s tires before disappearing behind it.

The truck screeched to a halt.

The truck driver leaned out the window, shaking his fist angrily and cursing, “You damn speedsters racing like maniacs in the middle of the night? If you want to die, go somewhere else—don’t drag others into it!”

“Shut up and drive!” Luo Shanyou snapped, fuming as she turned from the driver to grab the rider, shaking him frantically. “Why are you all just standing there? Keep chasing! I’m catching those two bastards tonight!”

While Luo Shanyou was nearly driven mad with rage, the two who had successfully shaken them off were in high spirits.

The black-and-gold motorcycle raced all the way to the mountaintop before stopping. From there, the glowing lights of Yan Port spread out below like scattered diamonds shimmering in the night.

Zhong Su jumped off the bike, smoothing his wind-tousled hair as if trying to force his racing heart back down his throat.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with exhilaration. “When that wooden cart suddenly appeared around the bend, my whole life flashed before my eyes. I really thought we were done for today.”

“Who knew you’d just charge ahead like a madman?” He nudged Chen Huan with his elbow, the lingering thrill and fear still visible in his gaze. “Not bad riding skills, though.”

It was rare for Zhong Su to laugh so freely, the thrill of brushing past death sending shivers through his nerves.

“If I’d known you’d enjoy it this much, I’d have taken you out riding more often,” Chen Huan remarked casually, leaning against the motorcycle as he lit another cigarette and watched Zhong Su’s delighted expression.

Zhong Su, however, sensed Chen Huan’s underlying displeasure. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, “Are you thinking about who betrayed us?”

To guard against rival gangs ambushing them, their route home was never fixed, often taking detours. Today, in particular, was a special occasion, a wedding banquet. Yet, that green-haired guy had accurately predicted which streets they’d pass and set up an ambush. Someone must have tipped him off.

Chen Huan exhaled a wisp of bluish-gray smoke, his tone indifferent, as if he’d already reached a conclusion. “No need to guess. Who else has both the connections and a grudge against us but Old Gui?”

He scoffed. “We gave him a chance, but that old fool just can’t stay put.”

Zhong Su agreed. Old Gui, with his big mouth, had never been reliable.

Calmly, he said, “Since he doesn’t know how to appreciate a second chance, he’ll have to face the consequences. I’ll go see Old Gui tomorrow and make sure he remembers this. You’ve got enough on your plate—no need to trouble yourself with something this minor.”

There was a sharp edge to Zhong Su’s nature; otherwise, he wouldn’t have lasted this long by Chen Huan’s side. When someone came for his life, he wasn’t about to let it slide.

Chen Huan looked down at Zhong Su, his gaze lingering on his tense knuckles and fearless eyes, studying him inch by inch as if admiring a finely honed blade.

After a long moment, the corner of his lips curled, revealing a hint of sharp, white teeth. With clear satisfaction, he said, “Su Er, out of all of them, you really are the only one who suits my taste.”

“Keep it up. Don’t grow soft. Don’t become some ordinary person. Don’t disappoint me.”

Chen Huan took pleasure in seeing Zhong Su’s cold and stern demeanor—the more ruthless his actions, the better. He gradually drew closer to him, only to find himself unable to shake off his influence.

That gaze carried a palpable sense of pressure. Zhong Su subtly turned his face away but offered no rebuttal.

He knew exactly what Chen Huan was anticipating, but he had no intention of acting according to his expectations.

Zhong Su turned around. “The rain’s getting heavier. We’d better hurry home, or we’ll be soaked through.”

“Once we’re back, I’ll make a call and update Wen Sheng on the situation, see how he wants to handle it,” Chen Huan said.

Since he had been doing more work for the gang lately, Chen Huan had retrieved the phone from Da Xiong and kept it at home for easy communication with Wen Xiong.

But before the two could restart the engine, the ghostly roar of motorcycles erupted once more. The same group of riders suddenly burst out from the trees lining the road, and one of the bikes sped directly toward Chen Huan without slowing down, aiming to strike him hard.