Chapter 83

“She’s been waiting ages, and Luo Ge still hasn’t come back for the car.”

“She was the first to call the company, asking them to find me, asking where Luo Ge is.”

Huo Zongzhuo went into the office first to check it was empty, then came out. “How long has Jiang Luo’s car been parked at Xianshi?”

Wang Chuang: “At least half a night. The girl saw the car around 4 PM when leaving the mall and called the company around 5.”

It was nearly nine o’clock now.

Huo Zongzhuo immediately turned and left.

Wang Chuang followed. “Going to Xianshi? I’ll come too.”

When Jiang Luo regained consciousness, the side of his head and neck throbbed painfully.

He painfully opened his eyes, consciousness returning. The first thing he saw was a mud ceiling with a crossbeam. Then he realized he was lying on the floor, his feet tied, hands bound behind him.

He instinctively struggled but couldn’t break free. Looking up, he saw under a yellow-tinted tungsten bulb a grim-faced Guo Ronghai standing not far away.

Jiang Luo recalled where he had blacked out before—Guo Ronghai had knocked him out and dragged him to this unknown location.

“Guo Ronghai.”

Jiang Luo’s guard went up.

Guo Ronghai’s expression was unreadable. “I’ve spent hours thinking how to kill you.”

Jiang Luo understood immediately. “Li Fengrui kicked you aside, you couldn’t get to him, so you’re taking it out on me?”

His eyes scanned the small mud house. Such buildings were rare in Haicheng; combined with Guo Ronghai’s “few hours,” Jiang Luo guessed it was evening, likely somewhere rural in Haicheng or a nearby northern Jiangsu township.

Guo Ronghai’s eyes glinted coldly. “Shouldn’t I have found you?”

“Not you. Li Fengrui would’ve thrown me out.”

Jiang Luo knew not to provoke him. Calmly: “Tell me how much you want. I’ll give it to you.”

Guo Ronghai sneered: “Scared?”

He added: “I hadn’t decided how to deal with you, but seeing your disgusting face now, I know exactly what to do.”

“Guo Ronghai.”

Jiang Luo’s tone was calm, advising: “Killing is illegal.”

Guo Ronghai scoffed: “You think you’re tough? Not so cocky now?”

He picked up a knife from the nearby table.

Holding it, he slowly approached, cold eyes and expression. Gritting his teeth: “You want me to give you a path? Make me beg you like a dog?”

“Heh, Li Fengrui treats me like a dog—what right do you have to do the same?”

“This dog’s for you to play with.”

Squatting in front of Jiang Luo, Guo Ronghai raised the knife. “I’ll blind your eyes first, then scar that pretty face.”

“Hmm? How about it? You want to beg me like a dog, huh?”

Jiang Luo stayed silent, watching the increasingly unhinged Guo Ronghai and the knife.

“Beg me!!!”

Still silent, Guo Ronghai grabbed Jiang Luo’s chin: “Beg me!!! Like a dog!!! Do it!!!”

He raised the knife to strike.

Jiang Luo spoke: “Your wife and two sons are in the U.S., your mother’s in a care home on Taiwan Island.”

The knife halted suddenly, mere millimeters from his right eye.

Cold sweat ran down Jiang Luo’s back, but his voice remained calm: “If I die, so do you. You’ll pay with your life.”

“What about your wife and kids in the U.S.?”

“Don’t you care about your mother in Taiwan?”

Guo Ronghai’s face contorted with rage, veins bulging, but his grip on the knife trembled—he wasn’t a born killer, just cornered.

Jiang Luo’s words had struck the weak point in his mind.

Jiang Luo continued: “Let me go. I’ll talk to Li Fengrui, and your mother can stay in the care home.”

“You’re short on cash, I can temporarily help. Your wife and kids won’t starve in the U.S.”

“Guo Ronghai, we have grudges, but no need to risk our lives. Let me live, I’ll protect you and your family.”

Guo Ronghai slumped, dazed, eyes unfocused.

Jiang Luo lay quietly, calm, saying: “You can doubt me, but you have no choice—just like I don’t.”

Guo Ronghai smirked coldly. Not a fool, he knew what was advantageous.

He stood, squatted beside Jiang Luo, took the knife, and cut the ropes.

“Jiang, you better keep your word,” he warned.

Jiang Luo observed carefully, then suddenly grabbed a low stool nearby and smashed it on Guo Ronghai’s head. Guo blocked it, but Jiang Luo snatched the knife and stabbed his shoulder. Guo screamed in pain.

Jiang Luo pressed, voice venomous: “You bastard!”

Guo Ronghai paled, cold sweat streaming, nearly fainting.

Jiang Luo released the knife, leaving it in his shoulder, and freed his ankles.

He stood, picked up a bench, and struck Guo Ronghai’s legs. Guo screamed twice and finally lost consciousness.

Without checking if he was dead, Jiang Luo didn’t hesitate—he pushed open the door. Outside, fields stretched around the small mud house.

Deep night. Moon high, dim light. No lamps, no clear directions. Jiang Luo picked a random path along the ridge of a field, thinking only to survive.

Eventually, he spotted a dilapidated two-story building near the field edge. He hurried, knocked. Dogs barked loudly.

After a short while, lights turned on inside, and a few words in dialect were heard.

A middle-aged man appeared, flashlight in hand, peering at Jiang Luo, asking in dialect who he was looking for.

Jiang Luo didn’t understand. Guessing it was northern Jiangsu near Haicheng, he spoke in Mandarin: “Please, help me. I was kidnapped, just escaped. Is there a phone? I need to call my family.”

The man babbled in dialect but didn’t open the gate.

Then an older woman and a younger woman appeared, speaking dialect. The man responded to them.