“Meng Ziyan, what exactly is going on in that head of yours?” Lin Zhi lit a lady’s cigarette, the thin smoke curling from her honey-colored lips like a soft embrace, drifting around Meng Ziyan.
Meng Ziyan, clearly disgusted, waved the smoke away. “I advise you to stay away from these things, Lin Zhi.”
“You can’t control me. Stop talking nonsense. What are you really planning?” Lin Zhi tilted her head and glanced at him. She honestly didn’t understand what Meng Ziyan was thinking. Why was he so determined to manipulate Yu Junqing, to the point of sending him to someone else’s bed?
“What do you know?” Meng Ziyan snorted. This woman was still as shallow as ever, with big looks and bigger talk. If he hadn’t had leverage over her, he would never work with her.
“I may not understand, but I’ve never seen anyone send a new flame to their benefactor,” Lin Zhi said, fully aware that Meng Ziyan looked down on her; otherwise, he wouldn’t have made her deliver the hotel key.
“I didn’t do it. This… It was just that Mr. Zhong had his eye on Yu Junqing, and you delivered the key. That’s all. Simple as that,” Meng Ziyan said, acting detached. It was a whim, he’d mentioned to Xu Zong that recently Zhong Feng wanted a change of pace, preferably something clean.
As for some fool delivering themselves to remind Zhong Feng to “pick up” Yu Junqing? Meng Ziyan truly had no idea.
Lin Zhi inhaled sharply, smoke filling her chest like a dense fog she couldn’t shake off. Sometimes she wondered if her first step had been wrong—and whether the rest of her life would be a series of missteps.
Meng Ziyan was far from simple. Then why drag Yu Junqing into this? Her mind spun. Yu Junqing wasn’t even that famous yet; even if this drama gained him fans, at most he’d be a second-tier star. Why target him?
“Nothing to say? Leave. And I’ll warn you once more—don’t come near me. If one day we appear in some scandal together, you’ll regret it.” Meng Ziyan looked down at the scene below with satisfaction. Two suited men were loading a hooded man into a familiar black business van, flashing tiny, adorable fangs as everything unfolded smoothly. All that remained was to watch the show.
Cold sweat ran down Yu Junqing’s temples, pain slowly radiating up from his ankle. If he hadn’t twisted his foot, he wouldn’t have been caught just now.
He forced a wry smile and tested his injured leg; the movement sent a sharp spike of pain up his leg.
“Damn it!” Yu Junqing kicked the car door hard with his good foot.
“I suggest you behave, unless you want to end up missing a part of yourself,” the man in the passenger seat suddenly lowered a divider, his tone menacing.
Yu Junqing didn’t believe these two would actually attack. He’d seen real fighters before—once as an extra in a martial arts film—but the aura these two emitted was completely different. At most, they were just bodyguards.
Distracted, he stopped kicking. That one kick had already left his foot tingling.
Peering out the window at the passing scenery, he realized the road was leaving the city; soon they’d reach the highway. Where were these two taking him? If they came this fast, they couldn’t have come from the neighboring city, meaning whoever sent them was local. Zhu Wen’s words made sense: after seeing the card and its hotel key, someone must be in that hotel—but why were these bodyguards taking him out of the city?
The neon of the city faded, night swallowing the surroundings. Except for the car engine, Yu Junqing could faintly hear the rare winter insects chirping.
So they weren’t heading for the highway—they must be going to the suburbs. But why take him there?
Leaning back, Yu Junqing lifted his injured leg onto the seat, wincing as waves of pain radiated upward. He recalled asking Director Wang for help before.
He remembered clarifying the rumors, including those about Zhu Wen, and Wang Wang’s meaningful words:
“Xiao Yu, do you know the story of the farmer and the snake?” Wang had asked with a strange expression, implying that he worried Yu Junqing would be bitten by someone he trusted.
Yu Junqing had replied confidently, “I believe nothing will happen to me.”
Now, thinking back, he wanted to slap himself. Trusting anyone blindly—especially a wise, experienced mentor who’d taken a liking to him—was asking for trouble.
Sure enough, Zhu Wen had turned against him. Yu Junqing shrank in the seat, suddenly feeling cold. He closed his eyes to rest.
“…He…” a faint, almost imperceptible voice came. Yu Junqing’s ears twitched; he cracked his eyes open slightly.
Carefully sitting up on the floor and adjusting his leg, he pressed his ear against the divider, straining to listen.
“Why is the boss taking this man to the suburbs? Isn’t he already at the hotel?” A new, unfamiliar voice—likely the driver’s assistant.
“It’s not the boss’s order,” the passenger said succinctly.
“Not the boss? Then why was I called here?” The driver’s voice betrayed surprise. So the assistant was calling the shots? But why take him without the boss’s command?
Yu Junqing gritted his teeth and leaned slightly behind the passenger.
“Don’t you remember? Not long ago, the boss said, besides him, there’s another person whose orders we also follow.” The passenger’s voice remained steady, calm to the point of intimidation—just like the toughest villains in the movies.
“I see…” the driver muttered, lacking confidence. He never had much sway with the boss, so it was best to stay silent. Even if something went wrong, he wouldn’t take the blame.
After a pause, he asked again, “So why does this person want us to take him there?”
“You’d better not know too much. Remember, we just follow orders. Everything else doesn’t concern us.” The air between them grew eerily tense.
They fell silent. Yu Junqing cautiously returned to the seat, mind spinning. So the card owner wasn’t behind this. Who could have done it?
The road grew bumpy, jolting his injured leg painfully.
This road was terrible! Yu Junqing muttered silently, glancing out the window.
Up ahead, a faint orange light glimmered. There was something strangely familiar about it. Yu Junqing’s heart leapt—he recognized it! Relief washed over him, and he focused on the road, realizing he might still have a chance to escape.
He didn’t notice one other thing: it was already past eleven o’clock.