He didn’t know if it was guilt, but the moment the black car appeared, Wang Liu’s heart sank with a loud thud—a bad feeling rising instantly.
He tried to calmly roll his window back up.
But before he could finish, the passenger window of the black car next to him rolled down first.
A man with a scar on his face tilted his head and looked over. His eyes met Wang Liu’s directly. On his cold, hard face, a slow smile appeared.
Then he spoke.
“It’s you?”
Wang Liu’s gaze dropped—and he saw the man was holding a baseball bat.
Alarm bells screamed in his head.
Wang Liu immediately lowered his seat, creating enough space, then suddenly climbed across to the passenger side, shoved open the door, and bolted.
But what he didn’t expect was that there were people waiting on all sides.
At a glance—no fewer than ten of them.
His face turned deathly pale. His thoughts raced wildly. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to say, “I can tell you everything you want to know—but you have to let me go.”
The scar-faced man stepped out of the black car and turned on his phone’s voice recorder. “Fine.”
A few minutes later, he snatched Wang Liu’s phone and saw the candid photos taken in Westview Bay—including images of Ming Qi. The smile on his face deepened.
“And here I was worried you only had surveillance and no photos to send to the police.”
Wang Liu’s expression darkened instantly. He didn’t even bother taking his phone back and turned to run.
He was fast, but the scar-faced man was faster. A baseball bat flew from his hand and struck Wang Liu’s calf. The sudden impact sent his body pitching forward. The others who had been lying in wait immediately swarmed him and pinned him down.
His arms were twisted behind his back, bone-deep pain surging through him, but Wang Liu still struggled like a madman. “You said you would let me go!”
“Yeah.” The man scoffed. “But who said I can’t go back on my word? Sorry, I just don’t keep promises.”
Not satisfied with that alone, he even casually rubbed his face. In the next moment, the scar on his face vanished without a trace. He peeled off what turned out to be a scar prosthetic and clicked his tongue.
“What are you glaring at me for? We’re law-abiding citizens here. We don’t do illegal things. Just scared you a little, that’s all.”
Wang Liu had his mouth covered. He could only make muffled sounds, his eyes bloodshot with rage, as if he wanted to tear the man apart alive.
The man narrowed his eyes, sensing that the reaction was a bit extreme.
But he didn’t dwell on it. He simply shrugged and walked toward the Maybach parked in front of the villa.
Yu Qinchuan and Ming Qi were standing by the car. Zhi Xiang, who had been about to open the window, noticed the commotion and called Zhang Cong over. After approaching, they clearly saw what was happening and were both slightly startled.
After a brief exchange with Ming Qi, they quickly understood the situation.
“Mr. Yu, this is the recording.” The man glanced at Zhang Cong and Zhi Xiang but didn’t mind their presence. “It’s not a stalker or paparazzi. From what he said, he was hired to break Ming Qi’s legs. He had been staking out Ming Qi’s original residence for several days. After failing to find him, he shifted his surveillance to this place.”
“Break his legs?”
Those three words made Zhang Cong and Zhi Xiang both tense up immediately. Zhi Xiang reacted quickly, immediately connecting it to what Ming Qi had experienced over the past few days, and asked, “Can you find out who it is?”
The man pulled out his phone. “I took a photo of the account that contacted Wang Liu.”
Zhi Xiang was surprised. “It’s a Beijing IP.”
Ming Qi and Zhang Cong exchanged a look, both seeing understanding in each other’s eyes.
Ming Qi turned to look at Yu Qinchuan, who was holding the voice recorder and silently thinking. “Since Brother Sun has already reported it to the police, you should go to work first. Don’t be late.”
Yu Qinchuan put away the recorder and smiled upon hearing this. “What, is there someone waiting to deduct my attendance bonus if I’m late?”
He didn’t stay long at the villa. After exchanging nods with Zhang Cong and Zhi Xiang, he got in the car and left.
Once he was gone, Zhang Cong said, “It’s that same company—Lè Sīyán, right?”
“Lè Sīyán?” Zhi Xiang asked.
Zhang Cong gave a confirming hum. “He came to audition for Ming Qi’s role. He acted decently, but compared to Ming Qi, he was still a bit lacking. If Ming Qi hadn’t been there, I might have actually chosen him… I also asked the team about it that day—whether anyone had deliberately probed about who got the forensic doctor role. There were three people. Two of them weren’t in Beijing and left right after auditions. Only Lè Sīyán stayed.”
“And after Ming Qi turned down that ancient costume drama because of a leg fracture excuse, I immediately received news that his leg was injured and he couldn’t act. I checked—it was also leaked by Lè Sīyán’s team.”
Zhang Cong sneered. “A lot of petty tricks. Unfortunately, even if Ming Qi had actually broken his leg, I still wouldn’t choose him.”
Zhang Cong’s standards for casting were clear. Acting ability and role compatibility were one aspect; character and integrity were another. Ming Qi could already see the latter clearly through everyday interactions with the cast.
“Forget him. Zhi Xiang made soy milk this morning. Want some?”
Ming Qi smiled. “Sure.”
…
Ming Qi originally planned to discuss today’s events with Meng She after the script rehearsal ended. Unexpectedly, Meng She sent him a flood of exclamation marks during lunch.
Then he immediately called.
“Holy crap, Qi Zai, you have no idea what I just heard.”
Before Ming Qi could respond, Meng She continued excitedly, “Shi Yong was taken away by the police.”
Ming Qi paused. “Taken away?”
That shouldn’t have escalated to the point where the police personally went to the company.
Meng She was clearly excited. “I heard it from Cao Bin. Shi Yong just happened to be at the company today, and when the police came, they said he had connections with a fugitive.”
…That Wang Liu guy was actually a fugitive?
No wonder he panicked so badly when Yu Qinchuan’s people mentioned taking him to the police station.
Ming Qi thought for a moment and took the opportunity to explain everything that had happened that morning to Meng She.
After listening, Meng She fell silent for a few seconds. Then a string of curses erupted from him.
He took a deep breath, furious. “What the hell kind of garbage is this? Playing it like that, huh? Fine, then we won’t be polite either. YJDAOEN has already contacted me.”
When YJDAOEN’s Weibo account first went viral for the wrong reasons, they had deleted related posts and acted like nothing happened. Meng She, however, had been cautious. Not only did he contact the production team immediately, he also notarized the evidence.
Later, when he sued YJDAOEN, the other party didn’t take it seriously at all, thinking he was just bluffing.
Only now did they realize he had been serious all along—and they were rushing to reach a settlement.
“He wants to make a trade,” Meng She said. “He’ll give me all the voice recordings between him and Shi Yong if I withdraw the lawsuit.”
“I originally planned to discuss it with you when you had time,” he added. “Since we’re already on it, you can think it over now.”
“Oh, and one more thing—now that YJDAOEN’s real identity has been exposed, the Conquering the World production will probably be affected too. You need to be mentally prepared.”
Ming Qi understood his meaning.
Setting aside the fact that he had a role in The Strategy of the World, if things escalated badly, the director of The Strategy of the World, along with the producers and investors behind it, would likely develop opinions about him. He might even be marginalized in the entertainment industry going forward.
But Ming Qi wasn’t worried. There were plenty of directors like Zhang Cong in the industry, and not everyone was constrained by capital, nor did everyone lack integrity.
More importantly, he hadn’t forgotten that one of the investors behind The Strategy of the World was Jiang Haoze.
Ming Qi didn’t think for long before making his decision.
“Meng-ge, tell YJDAOEN to go ahead. That’s the decision.”
Meng She replied, “Alright. Once I get the chat recording, I’ll go find the marketing accounts and bots. After all, it was Shi Yong who stopped being human first.”
…
That evening, when Yu Qinchou came to pick Ming Qi up, he casually placed an iPad into Ming Qi’s hands. Ming Qi looked down and saw that it was a Weibo post from the Beijing police.
Two images: one was an old wanted notice, the other a current police statement.
Ming Qi skimmed through it quickly.
Wang Liu’s real name was Shi Tianliang. Years ago, he worked as a thug for a loan shark company. During a debt collection, he used excessive force and caused the debtor to die from excessive blood loss. In a panic, Shi Tianliang fled the scene, changed his name to Wang Liu, and even underwent plastic surgery, successfully evading police pursuit for many years.
Over the years, he hadn’t done any legitimate work. He continued taking shady jobs as before. When Shi Yong approached him, the money offered was substantial, and he specifically told him that Ming Qi was low-profile, with only an agent and no bodyguards. Wang Liu thought it would be easy work and agreed.
He didn’t expect it to backfire.
“The police said Wang Liu has fully confessed to his cooperation with Shi Yong. They will also disclose these details to the public in due course.” Yu Qinchou spoke slowly. “Meng She told me you plan to release the chat recording from YJDAOEN tomorrow?”
Ming Qi was slightly surprised that Yu Qinchou had even contacted Meng She, then nodded. “I discussed it with Director Zhang Cong. Tomorrow is also the release of the character stills. Since the traffic is free, we should use it. It’ll save the production team from buying trending searches.”
Yu Qinchou looked at him a few more times, finding him interesting. “When did you start thinking about becoming an actor? I think you’re also quite suited to being a businessman.”
Ming Qi gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you complimenting me or insulting me?”
“Do you think I’m that sharp-tongued?”
Meeting those dark, deep eyes, Ming Qi said matter-of-factly, “That’s because you have a record.”
Yu Qinchou had teased him more than once.
The man, as always, lightly patted his head. “Relax. I’m sincerely complimenting you. I wouldn’t tease you.”