The heavy rain seemed intent on smashing the world to pieces—the off-roader roared, tearing a path through the muddy wilderness.
The atmosphere inside the car was eerie.
Gu Chen huddled in the passenger seat, holding half a tube of glucose, tilting his head back to down it.
That manner wasn’t like drinking life-saving medicine—it was more like chugging aged whiskey.
The hunger that burned through his stomach was temporarily suppressed, followed by a fatigue that ached even in the seams of his bones.
“Five percent.”
Qin Hongyi gripped the steering wheel with one hand, the wipers swinging madly, yet still unable to clear the rain curtain. “Young Master Gu, your mouth’s wider than a lion’s.”
“The current Gu Corporation is just rotten meat—me wanting Qin shares is giving you face. Open your perspective.”
Gu Chen flicked his wrist—the empty tube precisely landing in the back seat trash bin. “Besides, buying my life—this price is cabbage cheap.”
Qin Hongyi sneered, flooring the accelerator: “That depends if you survive tonight. Ahead is the main road into the city—you guess if that old fogey Qin Mu has snipers waiting?”
“He doesn’t have the guts.”
Gu Chen shifted to a more comfortable position, tugging at the mud-spotted hospital gown to cover his thigh. “This is Beijing—big commotion looks bad from above. Those two RPGs earlier were the limit—next…”
Before he finished, a row of blinding headlights suddenly lit up in the dark rain curtain ahead.
Not police lights—uniform xenon high beams.
Five black Land Rovers blocked the middle of the road, sealing the not-wide wild path airtight.
A group of burly men in black raincoats stood before the cars—no weapons shown, but that killing aura was more oppressive than guns to the head.
Screech!
Qin Hongyi slammed the brakes—the off-roader sliding meters on the slick road, barely stopping five meters from the barricade.
“Qin Mu’s people?” Qin Hongyi reached for her waist gun.
“No.” Gu Chen narrowed his eyes—gaze piercing the rain, fixing on the middle car’s plate.
Jing AS8888.
Su family’s car.
Qin Hongyi paused—turning to Gu Chen, gaze playful: “Yo, isn’t this your white moonlight childhood sweetheart? How, middle of the night—here to collect your corpse?”
Gu Chen didn’t respond.
The middle car’s door opened.
A slender figure with a black umbrella stepped down.
Su Rou.
She’d changed into a sharp trench coat, hair simply pulled back—eyes rimmed red, yet hard as stone.
The former Su miss who didn’t dare speak loud, who’d repent half a day for stepping on an ant—now brought over a dozen bodyguards, boldly blocking the mad dog Qin Hongyi.
“President Qin.” Su Rou’s voice cut through the noisy rain. “Please get out.”
Qin Hongyi raised a brow—lowering the window half, cold rain instantly pouring in:
“Miss Su, good dogs don’t block paths. Late night not at home mourning your dead ghost fiancé—running here to block my car. Does Old Master Su know you’re this wild?”
Su Rou ignored her mockery—gaze fixed on the dim space inside the window, trying to make out the blurry passenger figure.
“Earlier highway bridge explosion—someone saw your car rush out from below.”
Su Rou’s fingers whitened gripping the umbrella. “And, the girl from the banquet—I want to see her.”
“See her?”
Qin Hongyi laughed out—laughing uproariously. “How, Miss Su into girl helping girl now? Fancy my new pet? Snatching’s not nice.”
“Cut the crap!”
Su Rou suddenly raised her volume. “Qin Hongyi, I know what you’re doing! You took that girl because she looks like Gu Chen? You pervert! Hand her over—or Su family won’t let you pass tonight!”
Qin Hongyi’s laugh froze—killing intent overflowing.
Though Su family not as powerful as Qin—but if fight now, attract cops—the little monster in the car couldn’t hide.
“What now?” Qin Hongyi asked low. “Ram through?”
Passenger side—Gu Chen closed his eyes.
Su Rou this silly girl—actually blocking a lunatic like Qin Hongyi for such absurd reason.
If Qin Mu knew Su Rou was investigating—he’d turn Su family to ruins tomorrow.
Must make her leave.
Farther the better.
“Ramming’s too crude—makes us look low-class.”
Gu Chen took a deep breath—reopening eyes, gaze changed.
Hardness gone—replaced by watery charm, vulgar but hooking.
He reached—slowly unbuttoning the top two of the hospital gown, exposing a large swath of porcelain-smooth skin—casually messing his somewhat neat long hair.
“Lend a light.” Gu Chen fished the lighter from Qin Hongyi’s pocket—snap igniting.
“What are you doing?” Qin Hongyi stunned.
Gu Chen’s lips curled into a rippling smile—that smile extremely frivolous, exuding a blush-inducing flirt—textbook green tea possession.
He pushed the door—stumbling out.
“Aiya… so noisy… I just fell asleep…”
Soft, sweet, cloying—with just-woke nasal tone—extra clear in the rainy night.
Gu Chen barefoot in mud water—that loose hospital gown hanging slack—rain-soaked, instantly clinging, outlining exquisite curves—and a cheap dusty vibe.
He seemed unsteady—whole body limply leaning on the door—gaze hazily sizing Su Rou up and down.
“This is Miss Su?” Gu Chen covered his lips lightly laughing—gaze full of pickiness. “In person… way more dowdy than photos.”
Su Rou stiffened all over.
She looked at this woman before her.
Disheveled clothes, flushed face—neck even with ambiguous red marks.
That was blood smears from Gu Chen’s earlier self-harm—but to outsiders, just “fresh battle” hickeys.
This face—indeed beautiful to heart-stopping.
But that aura—too dirty.
Like a poppy blooming in rot—body screaming depravity and shamelessness.
“You…” Su Rou pointed—fingers trembling. “You’re coerced by her right? Don’t fear—I’m Su Rou, I can save you…”
“Save me?”
Gu Chen seemed to hear the world’s biggest joke—laughing hysterically.
Barefoot—he stepped to Su Rou.
Umbrella couldn’t cover his allure—instead making the soaked look more tempting.
“Miss Su—you got it wrong?”
Gu Chen extended a finger—lightly poking Su Rou’s shoulder—tone contemptuous enough to want to hit. “President Qin’s my sugar daddy— I begged her to take me play. How—this day and age finding long-term meal ticket illegal? I like eating soft rice—can’t I?”
“You’re lying!” Su Rou red-eyed roared. “Your eyes… clearly…”
“Eyes?” Gu Chen leaned close to Su Rou—their nose tips almost touching.
He endured heart pain—forcibly making his gaze empty, greedy, stupid.
“You mean I look like that dead ghost Gu Chen?”
Gu Chen giggled—turning back to the window—reaching to hook Qin Hongyi’s neck—in her shocked gaze—loudly muah on that cold glamorous face.
“Darling—this woman’s so annoying. Didn’t you say tonight take me for some excitement? Rain here what fun? Field play not like this.”
Qin Hongyi rigid half-second.
This bastard—not getting Oscar’s talent waste!
She reacted quick—backhand buckling Gu Chen’s nape—cooperatively smirking evil: “What’s the rush? Since Miss Su wants to watch—let her watch enough.”
Saying—her hand slid down Gu Chen’s waistline—moves extremely lewd.
“Ah~ President Qin lighter~”
Gu Chen cooperatively responded—softening in Qin Hongyi’s arms—provocatively to Su Rou. “Miss Su—want to keep watching? I don’t mind live stream—just afraid you missy get sty from seeing.”
Su Rou’s worldview collapsed.
She thought this a oppressed by power, tragic backstory poor stand-in—even fantasized perhaps Gu Chen clue on this person.
But this scene—utterly disgusting!
This woman—just shameless, clinging to power, dignity-less plaything!
Trash selling everything for money!
“Slut!”
Su Rou raised hand—slapping over.
Gu Chen didn’t dodge.
Slap!
Crisp ring.
Gu Chen’s head snapped aside—cheek instantly five finger prints.
Pain.
But this face pain—compared to Su Rou risking—nothing.
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