Chapter 3
In an instant, every criminal case he had ever handled flashed through his mind like a film reel.
Dozens of possible “scenarios” formed in his head.
All of them led to the same conclusion—disposing of the body.
Lin Hening wasn’t the panicking type. His brain just worked a little too fast sometimes. It wasn’t fear—just a mix of the eerie circumstances and maybe a little post-crash heart palpitations.
You couldn’t blame him for overthinking. He had seen and personally dealt with cases like this before.
A car accident might be an accident.
But sometimes, the driver, afraid of the consequences, would choose to flee.
And there were even more ruthless ones—who, realizing the victim was still alive, deliberately ran them over again to make sure they were dead. Because in their twisted logic, paying for a life outright was cheaper than covering medical bills.
Now, here he was:
One million-dollar Ferrari.
One second-hand van.
A desolate road with no surveillance, no pedestrians.
There was no guarantee that this man wouldn’t have a moment of impulsive decision-making.
That he wouldn’t just eliminate the problem at its root.
Maybe you’d think, Digging a hole and burying a whole car along with the body? That’s a lot of work for one guy.
No, no.
Looking at the size of this man’s hands, Lin Hening had no doubt he could bend steel bars into a Chinese knot if he wanted to.
A fist rapped against the window—three solid knocks.
Lin Hening snapped out of it.
His right hand, thankfully, had found his phone.
He looked up at the man and said calmly, “I don’t feel any pain, but I should probably get checked at a hospital to be sure.”
The man didn’t respond right away. His dry, chapped lips pressed into a firm line. His gaze drifted past Lin Hening, scanning the pitch-black road ahead.
What was he looking at?
Then, his gaze shifted to the road behind them.
What was he looking for?
Was he checking if anyone had noticed? Or looking for surveillance cameras?!
The moment the man’s gaze returned to him, Lin Hening rapidly ran through all possible scenarios and at least a dozen countermeasures. Worst-case scenario—judging by their physical differences, if it came down to a fight, how much of a chance did he have?
The man said nothing and simply reached for the Ferrari’s door handle.
Lin Hening felt a chill run down his spine and decisively called Jian Xiaoxi.
The moment the call connected, Lin Hening swore—he had never thought Jian Xiaoxi’s voice could sound this heavenly!
“Hening! Did you see the picture I sent? Damn it! And to think I actually defended Xia Zhile—he’s absolutely—”
“Jian Xiaoxi, I was in an accident on Ping’an Road in Xinghua Town.”
Compared to getting into a car crash and possibly being in mortal danger, a potentially cheating boyfriend was nothing!
“What?! Hening, are you okay? Did you call an ambulance? Hold on, I’m coming right n—”
Coming what?
His phone screen went black. Out of battery.
Lin Hening looked at the man again and realized he wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Instead, he was kicking the van’s door twice and barking, “Reverse.”
The van moved.
It was only then that Lin Hening noticed—there was someone in the driver’s seat.
After reversing a few meters, the driver’s side door opened, and out stepped a pale, short man, trembling as he stammered, “Brother Fei, I didn’t do it on purpose! I was just trying to avoid that dog! What do we do?!”
Gu Fei asked, “Did you make the call?”
“I did, I did! The ambulance said they’ll be here in five minutes!” The short man didn’t dare look inside the Ferrari. “The guy… is he okay?”
Gu Fei said, “He was clear-headed enough to call a friend, so he’s fine for now.”
The short man had just started to relax—until he got a good look at the car.
His relief shattered into pieces.
“Boss…” His voice cracked, on the verge of tears.
Gu Fei ignored him and walked back to the Ferrari’s door. He pointed upwards and said to the man inside, “You need to get out. Can you move?”
Lin Hening looked up.
The massive billboard with the words “Happiness Knocks on Your Door” had begun shedding rusted metal flakes. The whole thing was groaning and creaking ominously.
Like the final topping on this disaster of a sandwich.
Lin Hening tried to open the door.
It wouldn’t budge.
Even the wind seemed to be urging him out, rattling the billboard with even more terrifying creaks and groans.
Gu Fei said, “Move back.”
Before Lin Hening could even react—
There was a loud crack.
Or maybe it was a clang.
Or possibly something even more dramatic, like a crunching, splintering rip.
Gu Fei had grabbed onto the car door—
His muscles tensed, flexing under the dim light as if they were alive—
And then he simply ripped the door off.
Lin Hening: “?!”
The autumn night wind rushed in, howling through the now completely open space.
Gu Fei urged, “Get out. Now.”
Lin Hening stretched his left leg out first, but when he tried to move his right leg, a sharp pain shot through his ankle. He clenched his teeth and forced himself to pull his leg free, attempting to use his arms to lift himself out of the car. But the moment he moved his left arm, pain shot through it as well—just shifting slightly was unbearable.
Gu Fei watched his slow, struggling movements, then glanced at the billboard above, which looked eager to come crashing down. His lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowing. He took half a step forward and grabbed Lin Hening’s right hand—the one that seemed to still be functional.
Lin Hening instinctively used Gu Fei’s strength to push himself up. He barely had to exert any effort—Gu Fei lifted him out of the car with ease.
Three seconds later, the billboard fulfilled its destiny with a resounding bang, topping the Ferrari with a thick layer of “whipped cream.”
Lin Hening took a deep breath, still shaken.
He heard Gu Fei say, “This road is remote and hard to navigate. The ambulance might take a while. You—”
A gust of cold wind hit Lin Hening’s chest, making him cough uncontrollably.
Gu Fei let go of his hand and walked to the back of the van, fiddling with something for about half a minute before coming back to help him up. “You should wait in the car for now.”
Lin Hening saw a wool blanket spread out in the back, along with woven sacks and an insulated box stacked to one side.
As he got closer, he caught the distinct smell of live poultry. Under the dim light, he noticed faint traces of pinkish blood seeping from the sacks and a few stray chicken feathers scattered around.
A bit embarrassed by his own wild imagination from ten minutes ago, he glanced at the passenger seat and spotted a coat lying there.
The real culprit—the short man—looked at him nervously, his face a picture of misery. “Are you okay?” he asked timidly.
Lin Hening wanted to let loose on this unlucky bastard, but he just didn’t have the energy. He hadn’t even eaten dinner, his stomach was empty, and the image of his boyfriend cuddling with some little homewrecker was still fresh in his mind. To top it all off, the car accident had been the final blow. So much had happened in just a few short minutes—one twist after another. Now, his head was spinning, his stomach ached like it was being burned from the inside, and he was freezing. Everything hurt.
The short man’s phone rang—it seemed to be the ambulance. But he was so flustered that he couldn’t even string a sentence together.
Gu Fei snatched the phone from him and gave the driver clear directions to their location.
Lin Hening tugged his coat around himself. The cold was tolerable, but the stomach pain was unbearable—like fire licking his insides, making him nauseous. He looked up and saw Gu Fei walking toward him again.
“The ambulance driver can’t find the location. Sit back inside properly.”
“Huh?”
As Gu Fei reached down to close the van’s rear door, his muscles tensed, powerful and defined—just like when he had pulled Lin Hening from the car moments ago.
His intentions were obvious.
Lin Hening wanted to ask, “Can this wreck even drive?”
Before he could say anything, the van lurched slightly—the tire must have rolled over a rock. The vehicle gave a gentle jolt but stayed steady, wounded yet determined as it slowly pulled onto the road.
Lin Hening: “……”
He wanted to say this counted as reckless driving, but forget it—it was an emergency.
His sleeve felt sticky. Under the light, it looked like cream.
Damn it—his cheesecake was gone, his car was totaled, his boyfriend had been stolen, his whole body ached, and now he was crammed into the back of a van with chickens and rabbits. To top it all off, a stray feather had landed on his head, adding the perfect touch to his misery.
This was absolute bullshit.
The beat-up second-hand van barely holding itself together managed to power through the intersection. Just as it met up with the lost ambulance, it completed its final mission with honor.
Lin Hening, the injured party, was transferred onto a stretcher and carried into the ambulance. The paramedic turned to Gu Fei and asked, “Are you family?”
“I’m the one who hit him,” Gu Fei replied, stepping inside without hesitation. He looked at the stunned paramedic. “Drive.”
The ambulance wailed as it sped toward the hospital.
The diagnosis: a sprained right ankle, a minor fracture in his left forearm, and a mild concussion. That was it.
The traffic police explained that after the short guy made a sharp turn with the steering wheel, it was Gu Fei’s quick reflexes—pulling the handbrake at the last second—that saved Lin Hening from a much worse fate. Plus, Lin Hening’s car was high-quality, so both parties got away with minor injuries.
While the doctor ran an EKG, Lin Hening could hear the short guy wailing outside the examination room.
“A Ferrari! Even if I sold myself, I couldn’t afford to pay for that! Fei-ge, can’t you put in a good word for me? I swear I didn’t do it on purpose—it was that dog—”
Gu Fei: “Did your driving instructor never teach you what to do in situations like this? Before worrying about a dog, your first priority should be your own life—and other people’s safety.”
The traffic cop clapped Gu Fei on the shoulder approvingly, then turned to lecture the short guy. “Lucky no one was seriously hurt. If this had turned into a multi-car pileup, you’d be in deep trouble!”
The short guy wanted to scream, “This isn’t a big deal? IT’S A FERRARI! How many years of waiting tables would it take to pay that off?!”
The cop sighed. “Alright, enough crying. You were the one driving, right? The car belongs to you?”
Gu Fei spoke up. “The car is mine. I hadn’t slept for two days, so I was asleep in the passenger seat.”
The cop: “Name, age, ID, and driver’s license—hand them over.”
Lin Hening heard the man respond:
“Gu Fei, twenty-nine.”
Then came the short guy’s choked-up voice:
“I’m Zhou Zhou, I’m twenty-five—”
Lin Hening shut his eyes, head pounding.
The doctor finished the EKG and said, “Everything looks fine. Let’s get you admitted.”
Lin Hening frowned. “I need to be hospitalized?”
“Of course,” the doctor replied. “At least for two days of observation. You were the one hit, right? From what I heard, the other party is fully responsible. You might as well stay—you’re entitled to medical expenses, lost wages, and compensation for emotional distress. If you leave now and later develop complications, it’ll be harder to get them to pay up.”
Lin Hening wanted to say, “He wouldn’t do that.”
For some reason, he just felt that Gu Fei wouldn’t.
The doctor, experienced in these matters, efficiently finished the paperwork. Just as he was about to ask for a family member, a loud voice echoed through the hospital, getting closer and closer.
Jian Xiaoxi had stormed in, yelling all the way from the hospital entrance to the emergency room.
Lin Hening was about to tell him to stop shouting—his head was killing him—when he noticed another person behind him.
Oh.
The leading man of that scandalous photo.
Doctor Xia.
