Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Opulent Golden Hue

Bing Shaohui stared intently at the stream of cars across the intersection. He knew that as soon as the red light turned green, the Maserati would pass through—this was the conclusion he’d reached after staking out the spot for three or four days. That deep blue Maserati never took any other lane; it always stuck to the center.

He felt a pang of regret. Such a stunning woman, and today she might very well meet her tragic end. Yet, what he lamented even more was the Maserati itself. Two or three million, gone to scrap after today.

“Danzi, are you ready? The red light’s about to end,” Bing Shaohui asked seriously. He couldn’t afford any slip-ups at this critical moment.

Danzi, grinning, revealed a mouthful of yellowed teeth and flashed an OK sign.

With a beep, the red light turned green, and an endless stream of cars surged forward like a flood released from a dam. It was rush hour, vehicles packed bumper to bumper without pause.

Leading the torrent was a deep yellow Lamborghini, tearing ahead at incredible speed. Bing Shaohui estimated it must be doing at least two hundred kilometers an hour—racing like that right under the traffic police’s noses, he’d surely get a ticket soon.

“What a car!” Bing Shaohui couldn’t help but exclaim. He felt not the slightest tension; there was no way anyone would notice, or even suspect, what was about to happen.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Bing Shaohui sensed something was off. The Lamborghini wasn’t following the lanes—it swerved onto the sidewalk, heading straight toward them.

Still, he wasn’t worried. The sidewalk was wide enough for two Lamborghinis to drive side by side. Clearly, this one was overtaking.

The Lamborghini drew closer; Bing Shaohui could hear the engine’s deep growl. As it was barely a dozen meters away, he frowned. Why wasn’t it changing course? He picked up the yellow sign he’d prepared and waved it—no thoroughfare ahead.

But the Lamborghini showed no sign of slowing. It barreled straight toward them. Bing Shaohui’s face paled in shock, and he jumped aside just in time.

With unstoppable momentum, the Lamborghini smashed through a sanitation cart, then braked hard and drifted to block the two men. Luckily, Bing Shaohui and his companion were quick enough to avoid injury.

Bing Shaohui snorted coldly. Someone actually dared to drive at him—utterly reckless. He had barely dodged the car when he pulled a triangular blade from his pocket. He didn’t bother to consider why anyone would target him; he’d find out soon enough once he had the driver under control.

The car stopped, and a young man of eighteen or nineteen stepped out. There was nothing remarkable about him, save for a certain nonchalance in his demeanor.

To nearly hit someone and still act so indifferent—Bing Shaohui curled his lip. Another spoiled rich kid, no doubt, thinking a little money would make everything right, especially since no one was actually hurt.

Bing Shaohui sneered inwardly. This brat may have missed him, but he’d disrupted the plan. Though they could always try again tomorrow, today he’d make sure the boy learned a lesson, to show him people were not so easily bullied.

But before Bing Shaohui could speak, the young man addressed them first.

“Who sent you here?” The speaker was, of course, Xiao Cheng.

Bing Shaohui had already planned to teach Xiao Cheng a lesson. He hadn’t expected Xiao Cheng to turn the tables, acting as if it were their fault for almost being hit, as if they had no right to stand where they were. Such arrogance was beyond belief.

They had misunderstood Xiao Cheng’s meaning—he was asking who had ordered them to set up their scheme.

“Hmph! Nearly hit us, and you dare talk back? Arrogance! I don’t care who your father is; today you’ll learn people aren’t so easy to run over.”

Bing Shaohui snorted, and the blade hidden in his sleeve slipped into view. He exchanged a glance with his partner.

Both men drew their knives, forming a pincer.

Bing Shaohui noticed that even as they brandished their weapons, the young man remained utterly unfazed, still watching them with that same nonchalance. Infuriated, Bing Shaohui lunged with his blade. The traffic police were already approaching—they had to act fast.

Xiao Cheng frowned. Why were there so many reckless fools in the world? He lifted his left leg, and before the two could close the distance, kicked out at their knees.

There was a series of sharp cracks. Without seeing how Xiao Cheng moved, the two men suddenly found their legs useless and, carried by their own momentum, crashed to the ground. Bing Shaohui tried to stand but realized his legs no longer obeyed him. His face turned ashen.

Impossible—someone could break both his legs in an instant, and he hadn’t even seen how the move was made. Who was this boy?

He had thought Xiao Cheng was just another feckless rich kid, ripe for a lesson. Now he realized how laughable that thought was. This was no pampered heir but a ruthless expert—the sort of man who could cripple four legs in the blink of an eye, something Bing Shaohui had never encountered before.

“Who are you?” Bing Shaohui gasped through the pain, sweat streaming down his face, fear gripping his heart. After all, he was just a low-level thug.

Xiao Cheng stomped on Bing Shaohui’s chest, several ribs snapping with a loud crack, and Bing Shaohui coughed up blood.

“You don’t need to know who I am,” Xiao Cheng replied, then dislocated both men’s arms, tossed their limp bodies into the passenger seat, and, seeing the traffic police approaching, jumped back into his car and sped away.

Everything happened so fast that no one had seen what transpired. All they saw was a Lamborghini veer onto the sidewalk and smash a sanitation cart—the rest was blocked from view.

By the time Officer Xiao Li arrived, the Lamborghini was already gone, the license plate unseen. But he wasn’t worried; with surveillance footage, they would soon know what had happened.

“Captain Yun, should we give chase?” Xiao Li asked.

Yun Hongliang had just witnessed the whole scene and hadn’t left yet. He didn’t know what had happened, but seeing there were no injuries, he wasn’t concerned.

Hearing Xiao Li’s question, he chuckled. The man was a racing legend—did Xiao Li really think their patrol car could catch him? They’d be left in the dust before they’d even started.

“It’s just a small matter. Let it go. Next time, just dock him some points if you catch him,” Yun Hongliang said.

Perhaps out of fondness for his daughter, he decided not to pursue it. After all, his daughter was quite taken with this so-called racing god, and Yun Hongliang himself had a good impression of Xiao Cheng.

Xiao Li nodded in amazement. The man known as “Yama Yun” had suddenly changed his tune!

...

After the ordeal, Bing Shaohui finally regained his senses. He realized now that this young man had come specifically for them. Otherwise, why would he have been so ruthless, then brought them to such a desolate place?

Looking around at the abandoned factory, his heart sank. There wasn’t a soul in sight. This time, he knew, he was truly in trouble. Yet, curiosity gnawed at him: why had this young man targeted them?

“Now talk. Who told you to plant that box in the sewer?” Xiao Cheng asked coldly, eyeing the two men, now little more than helpless husks.

“How do you know about the box?”

Bing Shaohui had thought perhaps Xiao Cheng was a hired enforcer sent by an old enemy—such things happened often enough in their line of work. But hearing Xiao Cheng’s words, cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

Only the two of them knew about that box, and they’d been careful to cover their tracks. How had this stranger found out? It was impossible.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to ask questions,” Xiao Cheng said with a chilling smile. “Your lives are in my hands. But I’ll tell you anyway.”

He crouched, rifled through their pockets, and found two gold iPhones. Tossing the phones aside, Xiao Cheng said, “Because of these.”

“Gold iPhones?” Bing Shaohui muttered, even more confused. What did the box in the sewer have to do with the phones?

“Two sanitation workers, yet both own phones worth over ten thousand. Isn’t that odd?”

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[I'll try to finish another chapter by midnight to make up for today’s update. If not, I’ll catch up tomorrow. Thanks for your understanding!]