Su Pu woke to overlapping voices and the smell of smoke.
His eyes were covered; his head was wrapped, preventing any view of his surroundings.
From the sounds, there were four or five people nearby.
He wasn’t cold, and the voices weren’t sharp—he guessed he was indoors.
He quickly calmed himself, pretending to be dazed while using every sense to gather information.
This seemed like their first time doing such a thing—they were inexperienced, even planning to pin all blame on a “mysterious client.”
One asked, “Bro, why hasn’t he contacted us? He’s been tied up for two hours—won’t his family start checking soon?”
Another agreed, “Yeah, originally we were supposed to just drop him off. Now they want us to record video too… damn, are we being baited?”
“No,” said the apparent leader. “Old Xu says they have a personal vendetta. Payment is generous—they’re well-off.”
The subordinates relaxed. “As long as there’s money…”
“What about the video?”
The leader spat, “Record it, then we’re done. No lingering.”
Suddenly, Su Pu was lifted by the back of his neck.
A brief flash of light—his head covering was removed, but his blindfold remained.
A phone beeped, starting to record.
Someone tapped his face. Su Pu gritted his teeth, suppressing pain and fear, feigning calm.
Silent filming—likely showing his body to prove he wasn’t harmed.
The video would probably be sent to the “client,” maybe also to his family as leverage.
Su Pu considered: if they only wanted money, it could have been simpler.
John’s sports car waited at the café, but Su Pu hadn’t arrived.
Normally, he would be waiting outside, even busy, always greeting them.
What was wrong today?
Li Jichuan got out, noticing something under his shoe: Su Pu’s phone.
Su Pu was in danger.
He immediately called the police and reached out to friends for help.
Back inside the café, he waited, phone in hand. Soon, a message arrived from a virtual number:
[One million. Transfer here: XXXX]
Followed by a foreign bank account and recipient.
Li Jichuan transferred the money, and minutes later received a video.
The room was small, basic—a bedroom with yellowed walls and wrinkled sheets.
Su Pu appeared calm, but Li Jichuan knew he was hiding fear to avoid worrying him.
Fortunately, Su Pu’s limbs worked fine, his clothes were neat, and he was unharmed.
After sending the video to police, a new message arrived:
[Do not call the cops, or he’ll pay!]
Li Jichuan texted: [Su Hui, the money’s sent. Release him, and I won’t pursue this.]
Minutes passed in silence. Another video arrived.
Su Pu was no longer calm. His coat had been pulled open; his hands instinctively tried to cover himself.
Tears streamed through the blindfold, wetting his collar.
Li Jichuan slammed the table in rage but knew he had to stay calm.
[Don’t scare him. Whatever you want, I’ll give.]
The reply: [Get my dad out, give us new identities, let us settle abroad.]
Anderson and John, witnessing such absurd demands, were furious.
“Are they insane? With him in custody and evidence solid, how would you even get that?” Anderson fumed, storming off to smoke.
John frantically called hackers to track the IP, planning to find Su Hui, rough him up, and hand him to the authorities.
The threats continued:
[There are five with Su Pu now. If no progress in two hours, I can’t guarantee what happens to him…]
[But don’t worry, you’ll know everything. There’s surveillance. I can share it with you before posting online—then the world will see what’s happening to him!]
Blood rushed to Li Jichuan’s head; his hands shook as he dialed.
No answer.
John explained: the number was deactivated. They would have to wait for a new number to continue tracking.
Su Pu’s jacket remained on, but fear still gripped him.
His hands and feet were bound, another layer of blindfold over his eyes, shrinking into a corner of the room.
But the people who tied him up were clearly just temporarily assigned; they shouldn’t know him.
So why did it feel like they knew he couldn’t speak, yet didn’t cover his mouth?
Could someone here actually recognize him?
“Bro, are we still waiting?”
A voice asked, patience clearly worn thin.
“Wait a bit longer,” the leader said, lighting another cigarette; the click of the lighter echoed. “Old Xu was right—this one’s serious. The deposit’s already in.”
“One each. I’m keeping only ten thousand for myself. Not greedy for a single cent more.”
The others gradually received the transfer notifications and brightened.
One suggested, “Since we’re waiting anyway, I’ll go grab something to eat. There’s a place nearby with great pig ears—what’s it called again?”
“Zou Ji! I had it last time, really good. Bring some wine too while you’re at it, waiting anyway…”
Smack! Smack!
The leader slapped them both. “When the hell did you start thinking about food?!”
“The longer this drags on, the longer the sentence if we get caught. You want prison meals?!”
They were snapped to attention, quiet once more.
Su Pu caught a key word: Zou Ji.
The shop was near his old apartment, once hugely popular, always a long line outside.
Those days, even the bus seemed more crowded than before.
So they’d taken him to the densely populated old district, making rescue harder.
And with the information sent via a “mysterious client,” it would confuse the police’s location tracking.
Even if Su Hui was eventually found, being off the first crime scene would make conviction difficult.
Su Pu bit his lip. When had Su Hui gotten this clever? Or was someone helping him behind the scenes?
His scalp tingled as he quietly groaned—
Someone grabbed his hair, snapping photos. Su Pu bit down, rolling his body toward the light source.
The sun hadn’t set; the light came from a window. If captured, it could help Li Jichuan locate him faster.
“Don’t move!”
A kick to his stomach made him stifle a cough.
The kicker commented to a companion, “Wow, he really is mute. Can’t even scream in pain.”
Bang—
He was dropped to the floor, cheek pressed against it.
“Who told you to hit him? If the client complains, can you handle it?!”
The braggart immediately fell silent. “But they said it’s a private feud…”
“So what? Your job is to wait, not teach him lessons. Someone will deal with it soon!”
“Fine, we won’t touch him. Photos—send them or not?”
“…Let me see.”
A new IP address was tracked in the Upper City, moving constantly.
Su Hui was likely in a vehicle or discarding the number again, leaving the phone on a running device.
Li Jichuan examined the new photos: Su Pu’s clothes intact, lower lip gently bitten, deep in thought.
But what was he thinking?
Zooming in, the curtain behind Su Pu lifted slightly. Thin as cicada wings, it didn’t cover the window completely—
Through the slit, Li Jichuan spotted faded, scaly wall paint, loose wires, and a worn-out clothes pole.
“Su Pu’s in the old city, not the new. Su Hui isn’t with him…” Li Jichuan deduced.
John and Anderson looked up from the screen, exchanged glances, and adjusted their search.
The photos were sent just three seconds after being taken. Su Hui was in direct contact with Su Pu’s captors, urgently using the images to pressure Li Jichuan.
Li Jichuan realized Su Pu was thinking—using the photos to signal information to the outside world.
So far, Su Pu’s situation wasn’t too bad.
After seeing the photos, Li Jichuan wired Su Hui two million, requesting hourly photos of Su Pu, willing to increase by another million each hour.
Su Hui agreed quickly.
Night fell.
Inside, people waited for news, not touching food. Their stomachs grumbled.
One couldn’t resist and suggested buying food, otherwise, they’d be too weak to flee if found.
The leader considered, then agreed.
The room indulged in food and drink; five hundred thousand already in one afternoon, with more rewards to come—they were elated.
Su Pu was photographed a few more times, but the captor’s strength waned; Su Pu guessed he was drunk and would soon fall asleep.
Blindfolded, Su Pu had limited information, unsure how much he communicated or whether it was useful.
After the photos, he was tossed back into the corner, listening to their drunken bragging, dreaming of the final payment.
After some time, Su Pu stirred from a light nap. Someone approached.
The room quieted, leaving only a few discordant snores.
Suddenly—
His blindfold was lifted, and his vision returned.
He adjusted to the light, eyes focusing, finally seeing the person before him.
But it was—
Zhang Da.