Author: hoenimochi (Page 9 of 95)

       Gangzi had always showered quickly—he lathered up head to toe with shampoo and body wash, rinsed off, and that was that. As he reached for a towel, he happened to glance at the mirror and suddenly sensed something was off.

       He vaguely remembered that when they left in the morning, he had casually placed his used razor on the shelf beside the mirror. Since he was left-handed, the razor’s handle naturally pointed left.

       But now the handle had shifted slightly to the right.

       His pupils contracted sharply. He pushed aside the bottles and jars cluttering the shelf. A tiny pinhole camera peeked out from the corner.

       A chill instantly shot down his spine and spread through his body. Gangzi quickly threw on his bathrobe and rushed out of the bathroom in three strides, shouting, “Lawyer Qin!”

       No response.

       His gaze swept across the carpet near the window—Qin Mu’s phone was lying there. His blood practically froze.

       Qin Mu was someone entrusted to him directly by the second young master. All along this journey, he had been hyper-vigilant, cautious to the extreme, guarding Qin Mu more closely than the Monkey King guarded Tang Sanzang¹reference from Journey to the West. Who would’ve thought he had still manage to lose him right under his nose?

       These people had silently entered the room, installed a camera in the bathroom, and then found the perfect moment to abduct someone brazenly. Their methods were so bold and rampant it sent shivers down the spine.

       Gangzi called the police as he dashed out of the hotel. Outside, traffic was bustling, and there was no way to tell which car was suspicious. He hurriedly negotiated with the hotel to view surveillance footage, but they insisted he wait for the police to arrive—and couldn’t explain how those people had a spare room key.

       When the police finally arrived, they spent some time reviewing the footage and eventually spotted Qin Mu in the hallway, the elevator, and at the lobby exit. His head was lowered under a gray hat, and two men flanked him, dragged into a black sedan with the license plate JXX43C.

       The police tracked traffic and intersection cameras and found that the vehicle had traveled through the old city area, where it stopped for nearly ten minutes in a blind spot before continuing.

       By the time the car was pulled over, only the driver was inside. At first, the driver thought he was being busted for operating an illegal taxi and begged, “I’m just a low-level employee doing some side gigs—please don’t tell my boss.” But once he realised the passenger was the problem, he panicked and hurried to explain, “I don’t know them. These guys were referred to me by Erhei. After getting in the car, they said they were picking up a drunk friend and asked me to wait outside the hotel. Then they came out with the guy. The three of them got off at Xietang Alley.”

       Erhei was a small-time thug. According to him, a few days earlier, during a drinking session with friends, the topic of moonlighting as a black cab driver came up, and he recommended the driver he often used. As for the ‘friend’ who needed the ride, he couldn’t remember who brought him along. Everyone mixed got along so casually, and he didn’t even care what the other guy did for a living. After thinking for a while, he recalled that the drinking session had been arranged by someone named Houzi.

       Houzi didn’t answer his phone for ages. When he was finally dragged out of his home, he reeked of alcohol. After the police patiently questioned him for a long time, he finally slurred out that it was some friend of an ex-girlfriend or something. This roundabout mess unraveled a whole string of small-time thugs, and it was obvious someone among them was lying to muddy the waters. Even if the truth could be uncovered eventually, it would take time—and Gangzi couldn’t afford to wait.

       The moment the incident happened, he reported directly to Chu Yu. Chu Yu’s expression turned grim, and he immediately cut short his meeting and returned to his office to make a phone call.

       At this moment, Qin Mu knew nothing of the outside world. He was unconscious, as if trapped in a bizarre and surreal dream.

              He dreamed he was standing at the edge of a school rooftop, with countless snakes slithering toward him from behind and their ghostly green eyes fixed on him with chilling intensity. Below the building stood many people—his parents among them—but none of them had faces. When they looked up, it was just a mass of pale blankness. A mix of eerie laughter and whispering blended with the snakes’ hissing—it was hard to tell whether the voices belonged to humans or serpents. The venomous snakes closed in, their cold and slick bodies sliding across his feet, coiling up his legs. He saw their sharp fangs and tried to call for help, but no sound came out. Suddenly, he toppled from the rooftop.

       He plunged into hell.

       Someone seized his arms and legs and hurled him into a damp, cold, and gloomy room. It was dark inside. The tightly shut door had only a small iron-barred window. Outside that window was a horrifying face, wrinkled and hairy, with gray vertical pupils that turned slowly as they peered in. A hoarse voice, like a broken radio, repeated over and over again, “You were wrong. You were wrong. You were wrong…”

       When those gray eyes finally closed, the door creaked open. A beautiful deer appeared, leading him barefoot through snow and ice in a desperate run—so fast it felt like his heart was going to explode. And then he saw—

       A blinding, dazzling light—so bright it felt like it could melt him.

       Qin Mu woke up.

       The initial moments were sheer agony. His vision was blurred, his head splitting with pain, his body numb and immobile. Then came the waves of nausea and dizziness. His mind spun like a runaway train, utterly unable to focus or think clearly. Someone was speaking, but he couldn’t make out a single word. Everything in front of his eyes swayed and shifted, as if he had been thrown into a giant kaleidoscope with flickering and disjointed patches of color everywhere. He tried to reach out, but his limbs were too numb to move.

       It took a long time for Qin Mu to crawl out of this disoriented, powerless state, blinking groggily at his surroundings.

       It was an abandoned factory. The light overhead glowed dim and cold. A few rust-covered machines stood not far away. He was lying on the floor, and he could smell instant noodles.

       “Go check if he’s awake,” a gruff voice said. Footsteps approached. Someone yanked his hair up roughly, studied him for a moment, then said, “Yeah, looks about right.”

       “Get him up. Be civil about it,” the first voice spoke again—he seemed to be the leader of the group.

       Qin Mu was hauled up and shoved onto a chair that was missing a leg. He barely managed to sit upright.

       Opposite him sat a burly man—bald, scarred, with a thick, muscular torso. A tattoo peeked out from beneath his collar.

       Qin Mu’s clothes were covered in dust, and his limbs were too weak to support him; he could only lean against the chair, looking rather disheveled. The temperature had dropped sharply in the late autumn night. He had only a sweater on, and as the numbness wore off, the cold started to seep in. Still, he tried to maintain a composed expression, quietly observing the man through his glasses.

       “You don’t seem scared,” the bald man said after sizing him up for a while.

       “I am,” Qin Mu replied, his voice hoarse. “Maybe the drugs haven’t worn off completely—so it’s not showing.”

       “Got any last words before you die?”

       Qin Mu was silent for a moment, then said, “Haven’t thought of them yet. Mind giving me a bit more time?”

       The bald man laughed. When he laughed, the scar on his face twisted, looking like a centipede clinging to his cheek—gruesome and terrifying. “Sure. You can guess how I plan to kill you. Get it right, and I’ll give you a bit more time.”

       Qin Mu glanced around the room, finally resting his eyes on the knife the bald man was toying with. It was sharp, the tip catching the light and reflecting a faint cold blue. He steadied himself and said slowly, “You guys were able to sneak into the hotel room without anyone knowing. Poisoning me or assassinating me quietly would’ve been easy. There’s no reason to go through all this trouble just to bring me here. And for Baolijian, the last wave of public backlash has just been suppressed. If the lawyer involved in the case dies now, it would be a huge blow. So I’m guessing… you won’t kill me.”

       He tried to press down on the edge of the chair, but still didn’t have enough strength in his hands.

       The bald man narrowed his eyes. “I like dealing with smart people. Since you figured that out, then you should also know what we want.”

       “I’m dropping the case. I’ll buy a plane ticket and fly back first thing in the morning.”

       Knowing when to back down is a mark of wisdom—Qin Mu’s capitulation was clean and decisive.

       “So Lawyer Qin is quite easygoing after all.” The bald man curled his lips, his expression cooling. “What a pity… lawyers’ mouths are just too unreliable. With a flick of the tongue, black becomes white. Makes it hard to trust you wholeheartedly. To make sure you keep your word—and as a little punishment for upsetting my boss—I need a small guarantee.”

       As he spoke, he flicked the knife upward. Two men dragged Qin Mu up and forced him over to a machine.

       Sensing danger, Qin Mu started struggling. He took several hard punches to the gut, pain arching his back. A blond-haired guy yanked Qin Mu’s right hand over and pressed his palm down against the flat control panel of the machine.

       The shiny blade danced mockingly between his fingers. The bald man taunted him like a cat playing with a mouse. “Lawyer Qin, I’ll leave you just one pinky. If you keep squirming and I accidentally slice off more than one, don’t blame me.”

       Qin Mu’s scalp tingled as he fought to stay calm, bargaining with him, “I’ll pay for this finger, and everyone present today will have a share. You can name your price.”

       The bald man grinned, tightening his grip on the knife with a bloodthirsty sneer. “So sorry—I’m not interested in money.”

       Panic surged in Qin Mu’s chest as he struggled again, only to be pinned down hard. Just as the sharp blade was just about to fall, a piercing police siren suddenly ripped through the air.

       Everyone froze in surprise. The bald man halted, seemingly trying to pinpoint the direction of the sound.

       “Cops!” someone shouted.

       Panic erupted in the workshop. Qin Mu took the chance to slam his shoulder into the blond guy’s gut. Caught off guard, the blond lost his grip. As he lunged again, Qin Mu fought him with every ounce of remaining strength.

       “Go! Leave him— Go out the back door!” the bald man shouted through gritted teeth.

       The blond thug snarled but shook off Qin Mu and bolted. All of them had criminal records—getting caught meant real trouble. Their goal had been to intimidate and threaten, and they had accomplished that. No need to risk everything. They could cut off a finger any time.

       Qin Mu collapsed in a corner, panting heavily, covered in dust and grime. Someone rushed over to help him up. He raised his head and his brow furrowed slightly.

       These ‘police’ weren’t wearing uniforms.

Support the author by buying the author’s works and/or giving some kisses here~
(It’s very easy to buy from myrics.com because they support Paypal payment in small amounts~)

We have a discord server for those who want to receive an update ping and various announcements~
Join here ^^

And please buy me some kofi if you like the translation~

Also leave some ratings if you like this series here~

       Qin Mu and Wu Guangming arranged to meet the following morning.

       Wu Guangming’s family lived in a suburb far from the city center. Three years ago, in order to ease the issues of traffic, housing, and population concentration caused by the overloaded city, the government had drawn a big circle on the map and merged several shabby county towns into a new district, bringing them under J City’s jurisdiction. Although the name ‘new district’ sounded grand, the basic investment remained loyally aligned with that of a third-rate rural county. Apart from heating the land market and luring in a pack of ravenous real estate developers, not a single basic supporting facility like schools or hospitals kept pace. Property prices in the new district rose, but compared to J City where every inch of land was worth a lot of money, they were still more humane.

       People who couldn’t afford to buy homes in J City clustered here, commuting three hours by subway every day to clock in at work, then dragging their exhausted bodies back through the night in search of their own bed.

       To treat his mother’s illness, Wu Guangming sold their apartment in the tube-shaped housing of J City and moved here. His parents had both worked at a machine tool factory and were honourably laid off during the tide of reform. His father didn’t have any other skills, spending his days drinking and playing cards at home. One rainy night, after a game, he fell into a ditch with his bicycle on the way home and died.

       His mother raised the still-underage Wu Guangming by washing dishes for others. The image of the short woman hunching her back while sitting on a low stool washing dishes, her hands peeling from the dish soap, and the way she wrapped her waist tight with cloth to continue working when her lumbar pain flared up—these were the carving knives that etched into Wu Guangming’s memory.

       From a young age, his essays consistently expressed his wish to be filial to his mother, and this remained unchanged as he grew older. He was extremely hardworking. After graduating from technical school, he worked as an apprentice in a hotel kitchen for three years. Once he could handle the wok himself, he saved money for several more years, waking early and working late to open a small restaurant. Thanks to the good taste of his food, business was decent.

       Life for the whole family began to look up, and he finally had the chance to fulfill his filial duty properly. That was when the overwhelming advertisements on the internet and television caught his eye.

       They were an ads for a ‘pure traditional Chinese herbal tonic that strengthens the body, detoxifies and dispels dampness, boosts immunity, and supplements calcium to strengthen bones’ and ‘the number one choice of hundreds of millions of elderly people, the best gift for children to show filial piety to their parents’. It was a product broadcast in prime time on mainstream media, endorsed by celebrities and stars. What harm could it possibly have?

       Wu Guangming didn’t know that those red gift boxes he had joyfully and gratefully given to his mother with his own hands were filled with deathly poison. By the time she was taken to the hospital, it was already too late. His mother endured half a year of agony before passing, leaving behind a half-knitted wool vest for her little granddaughter.

       Wu Guangming fell hard into the whirlpool of tragedy, struggling but unable to escape. He sought justice in many places, but was kicked around like a ball, rolling through the mud, and was ultimately slammed into an abyss by the conclusion: ‘insufficient evidence, unable to file a case’.

              Wu Guangming’s family of four lived in a small home of less than sixty square meters. Fortunately, both children were in school; otherwise, it would’ve felt even more cramped with Qin Mu and Gangzi squeezed in there. Wu Guangming’s wife wasn’t much of a talker. Aside from making tea and boiling water, she mostly just sat quietly.

       Wu Guangming explained everything to Qin Mu in detail, taking out the inspection reports for Baolijian, his mother’s medical test documents, and various receipts from relevant departments. Suppressing his rage, he said, “My mom was always in good health. After taking that stuff for half a year, her liver was ruined. So many people got sick from it. It’s obvious that the medicine is the problem, but no one’s doing anything about it. I never wanted compensation from the start. No amount of money can bring my mom back! I’m just furious—does justice even still exist in this world?” As soon as he finished speaking, his phone rang again.

       Since Qin Mu had arrived, Wu Guangming’s phone had already rung four times. Qin Mu politely said, “If something urgent has come up, please go ahead—we can reschedule.”

       “I’m not busy. It’s fine.” Wu Guangming declined the call and tossed the phone aside, muttering under his breath, “These people are seriously like damn flies.”

       To win the lawsuit, the materials in Wu Guangming’s hands were far from enough. As Qin Mu carefully examined them, there came a knock at the door. Wu Guangming’s wife looked through the peephole and frowned, both annoyed and resigned.

       Wu Guangming’s expression darkened as he went to open the door. Outside stood two men—one fat, one thin. The fat one quickly plastered on a forced smile when he saw Wu Guangming. “You’re home? Why weren’t you answering your phone? I thought something had happened.”

       “You’re probably hoping something does happen so I’ll be stuck at home every day,” Wu Guangming shot back coldly.

       The two of them seemed used to his attitude and didn’t take it to heart. The fat one still grinned. “Come on, how could you say that? Of course we’re hoping for good things for you.”

       The thin one chimed in, “Not opening the restaurant today? We were hoping to stop by and order a couple of dishes.” It was only ten o’clock, which was the awkward time between breakfast and lunch. It was clearly just something he said off the cuff. After speaking, he craned his neck to peer inside the house, as if searching for something.

       “I’ll open when I feel like it. If I don’t feel like it, I won’t!” Wu Guangming exploded, suddenly flinging the door all the way open. He roared, “She’s home too! You see her now? Seen enough? Then get lost!” The door banged loudly as it hit the wall.

       The thin man finally spotted Wu Guangming’s wife standing inside and forced a smile. “Don’t be mad, Wu ge, we really didn’t mean to bother you. It’s just… we’ve got our tasks, you know? We make our living this way—what can we do? Please understand.” As he spoke, he pulled out a cigarette and tried to offer it to ease the tension.

       Wu Guangming didn’t take it, his face still dark, ignoring him completely.

       The thin man awkwardly stuck the cigarette back in his own mouth, glanced at Qin Mu and Gangzi, and asked cautiously, “Got guests over?”

       Wu Guangming glared at him fiercely and yanked the door shut, nearly catching the fat one’s leg before he could pull it back.

       Moments later, the sound of the two men going downstairs could be heard.

       Wu Guangming sat back down, somewhat irritated, and said to Qin Mu, “Sorry about that, I must’ve made a fool of myself.”

       Gangzi asked curiously, “Are they debt collectors? They don’t really look like it.”

       Wu Guangming waved his hand. “I wouldn’t dare get involved in that kind of stuff. They were sent from above to keep an eye on me. Ever since I went to report the issue, I was labelled as an important surveillance subject. There’s some big, important conference coming up soon, so they’ve been assigned to keep tabs on my wife and me three times a day—morning, noon, and night—afraid I’ll raise complaints again and ‘escalate the conflict, disrupt stability and unity.’ If I’m not at the restaurant, they call. If I don’t answer, they come knocking. If I’m not home, they go looking for me everywhere. Like cats chasing a mouse, they can’t let me out of their sight for even a second. That’s why I asked you two to come to my house instead—saves us all from more chaos.”

       Qin Mu frowned. “Restricting someone’s personal freedom is illegal.”

       Wu Guangming gave a bitter laugh. “One person suppressing a group—that’s a violation of freedom. A group suppressing one person—that’s called putting the bigger picture first. I’ve seen through it now. Freedom and justice—those things are only for the capable. People like me, useless as I am, can’t even get a straight answer when our own mothers die. Oh, right…” He remembered the topic from earlier, took out his phone and tapped a few times before handing it over. “Back when I was defending my rights, I posted some stuff online and got to know a few people who also got sick from taking Baolijian. We made a group chat. You mentioned something earlier about the chain of evidence being incomplete—I don’t really understand that, but maybe you could talk to them, see if there’s anything else that can help?”

       That was of course, a good idea.

       Qin Mu carefully recorded their basic information and contact details. That afternoon, he managed to get in touch with two of them. Both lived in areas surrounding J City. One of them, a woman, was currently undergoing treatment in the hospital. Toward evening, Qin Mu bought a basket of flowers and some fruit and went to the hospital, where he spoke with the patient’s attending physician to get a better understanding of her condition. By the time he came out, the sky was already pitch-black, thick with grayish smog.

       Qin Mu bought a pack of Liqun cigarettes and a plastic lighter from a small street shop. He pulled one out and handed it to Gangzi.

       Gangzi waved it off. “Doesn’t seem like you’re a big smoker.”

       The flame from the lighter flickered unsteadily. Qin Mu held the cigarette between his fingers, placed it to his lips, bent his head to light it, and took a deep drag. Exhaling a puff of white smoke, he said, “Smoked a lot when I was younger. Quit later. These past couple days, I just can’t help but want a few drags again.”

       Gangzi understood why.

       The people they had seen these past two days were all suffering—some struggling at the edge of life itself, some trapped in poverty, isolated and helpless, with nowhere to turn. They were nothing like Qin Mu’s previous clients—celebrities, tycoons, interest groups—people who, even if they lost a case, still had countless backup plans. These people had none. They were already teetering on the edge of a cliff or had already fallen off, clinging desperately to fragile vines as they fought to survive.

       Every pair of eyes longing for justice weighed heavily on Qin Mu’s heart, even more so with the unavenged spirit of the mentor who had once taught him.

       Qin Mu rarely showed emotion. His way of relieving stress was also quiet and restrained—just like now, standing by the car, silently smoking a cigarette. By the time he finished, the tangled mess in his mind had more or less sorted itself out.

       A notification popped up on his phone—it was an email from the testing agency he had commissioned earlier. The sample composition analysis report had arrived.

       Qin Mu stubbed out the cigarette and said, “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

       For safety reasons, Qin Mu and Gangzi stayed in a suite together. While walking through the lobby, Gangzi’s alertness noticeably heightened. Inside the elevator, Qin Mu asked, “What’s wrong?”

       “Those service staff were giving us weird looks,” Gangzi said in a low voice. “Be careful—someone might be out to cause us trouble.”

       “They might just be curious,” Qin Mu replied.

       “Curious about what?” Gangzi didn’t quite get it.

       “About what kind of relationship we have, staying in a room together.”

       Gangzi’s face turned red in an instant. He muttered awkwardly under his breath, “What the hell are they thinking…”

       After they entered the room, Qin Mu’s phone rang.

       It was his dad.

       Gangzi caught a bit of the conversation and found it somewhat surprising. Qin Mu and his father didn’t seem particularly close—their conversation was sparse, one sentence at a time, and mostly just a curt ‘En’ in response. Neither was in a hurry to hang up, and it wasn’t the kind of casual back-and-forth filled with warmth you would expect from a father and son. It was more like dealing with a client. Worried the conversation might turn personal and not wanting to intrude, Gangzi went to take a shower.

       Qin Mu exchanged a few more words with Qin Aihua, then said, “I’ve still got some things to take care of here.”

       “Alright, you go ahead.” Qin Aihua hesitated a moment before adding, “Um… if you have time this week, could you come home for a bit? Your mom misses you a lot.”

       Qin Mu was silent for a moment before replying, “I don’t have time for now.”

       “Alright then, work’s important.” The other party didn’t say anything else.

       Qin Mu ended the call and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring blankly at the night lights twinkling in the distance. The reflections on the glass suddenly shifted.

       Gangzi done with his shower?

       Just as he was about to turn around, someone covered his nose and mouth from behind. A sharp and pungent scent rushed straight to his brain.

       Ether.

       That was the last thought Qin Mu had before his mind went blank.

T/N:
Usually people use chloroform right?
But it’s legit 乙醚, ether/diethyl ether, C2H5OC2H5 (ᵔ́∀ᵔ̀)

Support the author by buying the author’s works and/or giving some kisses here~
(It’s very easy to buy from myrics.com because they support Paypal payment in small amounts~)

We have a discord server for those who want to receive an update ping and various announcements~
Join here ^^

And please buy me some kofi if you like the translation~

Also leave some ratings if you like this series here~

       The door finally opened.

       The sky was overcast outside, and the room was dark due to poor lighting. The ceiling was low, making it cramped even for the 1.83m tall Qin Mu, let alone for the nearly 1.9m Gangzi, who had to stoop like he had a cervical spondylosis.

       The furnishings were simple and neat but carried a peculiar smell, reminiscent of medicine, musty smell of damp bedding, or the smell of an old person who’s been cooped up at home for a long time. There were two birdcages hanging on the wall, both empty. The floral curtains hung awkwardly, and the only sign of life was a row of plants on the windowsill.

       “Uncle, you raise birds? Here, let me help,” Gangzi quickly took the trembling teapot from Zhang Wenhua’s hand and poured water for both himself and Qin Mu. The old man, with his frail legs and lack of strength, managed a few steps before sitting down on a rattan chair, leaning on the armrest.

       “I used to. But then I got sick, I have no time to care for them, so I gave them away,” Zhang Wenhua looked at Qin Mu, hesitating before finally asking, “Lawyer Qin, tell me the truth, was Lawyer Xiao… because of my case…”

       “The perpetrator hasn’t been found yet; there’s no conclusion at the moment,” Qin Mu replied.

       Zhang Wenhua lowered his eyes, his thin fingers twisting together as he murmured, “He was kind-hearted, helping me without charging a penny, and now this has happened. I really…”

       “It has nothing to do with you,” Qin Mu said. His eyes were dark in colour, set behind glasses on a straight and high-bridged nose, giving his gaze a sincere and deep look. Due to his professional habit, he made eye contact while speaking, conveying a sense of earnestness.

       “Uncle Zhang, whether it was Teacher Xiao or me, we lawyers are just the blade you use to seek justice. Whether you want to draw that blade, when to draw it, and how to use it once drawn, it’s all up to you.” He paused, slowing his speech, “Going to court with a lawyer is to seek justice, but justice isn’t just a legal standard; it’s also a measure in people’s hearts. True justice is what brings peace of mind.”

       These words struck Zhang Wenhua hard. He furrowed his brows for a long time before saying, “Lawyer Qin, I really… don’t want any more trouble.”

       “I can understand your situation and your feelings, and I can guess the difficulties involved,” Qin Mu looked directly at him, “If you have a better option or can get satisfactory compensation, both Teacher Xiao and I could rest easy, even if this trip was in vain.”

       Hearing this, the old man’s eyes reddened slightly, “Lawyer Qin, I’ll be honest with you. The reason I’m just ‘letting it go’ is because I have no other choice. Us common folk at the bottom don’t have many options when something happens.” He sighed sorrowfully, “Life is hard… there’s the ‘not being able to do things’ kind of hard, and the ‘must not do things’ kind. Young Lawyer Qin, you’re young, you might not understand. This is my second marriage with my wife; xiao Ran was her child from before, already sixteen when she came to me. We weren’t close, and she had a falling out with her mother, and became independent early on. My wife had high blood pressure, had a stroke, and was bedridden for over three years until she passed away. I was terrified of ending up alone in my old age, so I sought health supplements to stay fit, to not rely on anyone or suffer. But it backfired, leading to this illness.”

       Zhang Wenhua pulled the corners of his wrinkled mouth and gave a bitter smile, “It’s terminal now, so whether I treat it or not, I don’t have long. But xiao Ran’s life is just beginning. She never had much fatherly love from her biological dad or from me; I owe her, and I can’t bring more trouble to her and her family.” As he spoke, he wiped his eyes, his voice trembling, “Lawyer Qin, I am grateful to Teacher Xiao and you. But… I can’t wield that blade anymore…”

       The message was clear.

       They had used Zhang Ran as leverage to threaten Zhang Wenhua, hitting his vulnerability with precision, leaving no further trouble.

       Seeing him wipe his tears, Qin Mu felt a bitter taste in his heart. He had intended to persuade the old man to continue with the lawsuit, but now all his prepared words seemed inadequate. Looking at the lonely Zhang Wenhua, he thought of Xiao Chengzong lying in the morgue, feeling like his heart was split into two desolate plains. On one side were thousands of miles of glaciers, and on the other side were endless raging flames, both emotions entwined inextricably. He adjusted his glasses, forcing calmness into his voice, “Did they offer you compensation?”

       Zhang Wenhua didn’t hide it and said honestly, “They gave me 80,000 yuan.”

       Only 80,000 yuan.

       The price of a life was only 80,000 yuan.

       Qin Mu clenched his fist on his knee, feeling a pang of sympathy, “If we win, I can get you 800,000 yuan back.”

       Zhang Wenhua seemed startled by the figure, looking at him blankly before shaking his head, “…Forget it, let’s forget it. It’s my bad luck; I’ll accept it.” He struggled to his feet, pulled out a stack of cash from a drawer, and handed it to Qin Mu, “Young Lawyer Qin, you took the trouble to come here. Take this money.”

       “You’re trying to send me away,” Qin Mu smiled helplessly, standing up to gently push the money back, “Uncle Zhang, I’ll be in J City for a few days. If you change your mind, feel free to contact me. I’m here not just for you but to finish what Teacher Xiao started.”

       Zhang Wenhua looked at the young man before him with guilt, hesitating several times before speaking. As Qin Mu was about to leave, he sighed deeply, “Wait a moment.” He took out a small address book from his pocket, flipping to the last page where a number was scribbled. The book had been wet, the ink smudged at the edges, making the digits and the words ‘Wu Guangming’ look fuzzy.

       “He used to live in this compound but moved out. He came to see me recently when he heard I was sick, saying his mother also had issues from taking the medicine. He asked if I wanted to join him in seeking justice. We went a couple of times, but my health couldn’t take it, so I stopped. He tried reaching out to authorities, media, and Baolijian company, but nothing worked. He also approached several law firms to sue, but none would take the case once they heard it was against Baolijian. Lawyer xiao Qin, you might want to contact him.”

       This was an unexpected gain. Qin Mu felt a warmth in his heart, gratefully holding the old man’s hand, “Thank you.”

       Leaving the stairwell, they found it had started to rain again. Gangzi asked, “Should we contact Wu Guangming now?”

       Qin Mu, feeling exhausted, shook his head, “Let’s go back to our accommodation to rest first.”

              The accomodation was a suite at the Hyatt, booked by his assistant.

       In truth, Qin Mu had no particular demands for accommodations. As long as it was clean and quiet, it was enough. Whether it was a five-star hotel or a business one, he was fine with both, just as he was with buffet meals or street food. He had endured all sorts of hardships running cases with Zhou Yi as a paralegal, so he wasn’t fussy.

       He ordered room service and sat on the sofa, lost in thought. Since Xiao Chengzong’s incident, Qin Mu’s mind had been racing, constantly reviewing the case, strategizing, and planning, not getting a wink of sleep on the plane. Now, with Zhang Wenhua’s case off the table, he needed to plan his next move. The air conditioning warmed the room, and Qin Mu relaxed, feeling the fatigue return. He fell asleep before lunch arrived, not even waking when Gangzi covered him with a blanket.

       After a nap on the sofa, his neck was stiff when he woke up, but he felt much better. He ate a few bites and then called Wu Guangming.

       “Hello, is this Wu Guangming? I’m Qin from Mu Xin Law Firm…” Before he could finish introducing himself, the other end of the line cursed, “Go fvck yourself!” and hung up. Subsequent calls went straight to busy signals, indicating he’d been blocked.

       Qin Mu said helplessly, “Do I sounds like a scammer?”

       Gangzi laughed, and handed over his cell phone.

       Qin Mu texted Wu Guangming, explaining that he got the number from Zhang Wenhua. After a while, he received a call back.

       “Sorry, really sorry,” the man on the other end apologized awkwardly, “My information must have been sold to someone; I keep getting spam calls, so I thought you were a scammer too.”

       “No worries,” Qin Mu understood, “I heard from Uncle Zhang that you want to sue Baolijian, is that right?”

       “You’d take the case?” Wu Guangming was surprised.

       Qin Mu briefly explained his connection with Teacher Xiao, Zhang Wenhua, and Baolijian. Wu Guangming hesitated, then said apprehensively, “Lawyer Qin, I won’t hide it from you, we’ve spent almost all our money on my mother’s treatment, and I have two kids to raise. I might not be able to pay much for legal fees. But… if you can help me win this lawsuit, I’ll give you half of whatever compensation we get, even all of it if you want! You don’t know how much I hate them! I wish I could burn that damn company to the ground!”

       “The fees aren’t important,” Qin Mu said, “Mr. Wu, if it’s convenient, can we meet?”

       “Sure, sure,” Wu Guangming agreed hastily, then added in a downcast tone, “Sorry, could you come to my place? I… can’t leave here.”

Support the author by buying the author’s works and/or giving some kisses here~
(It’s very easy to buy from myrics.com because they support Paypal payment in small amounts~)

We have a discord server for those who want to receive an update ping and various announcements~
Join here ^^

And please buy me some kofi if you like the translation~

Also leave some ratings if you like this series here~

       Zhao Jinchuan left the apartment and returned home.

       As soon as he stepped through the door, he heard Zhao Dongsheng’s furious voice coming from the study on the second floor, “What a bastard you raised! What else can he do besides causing trouble? A worthless piece of shit!”

       Zhao Jinchuan paused in his steps, a vicious chill flashing in his eyes. He had inherited his mother’s looks, which were naturally refined and handsome. Unfortunately, after spending too long indulging in debauchery, he had picked up a certain air of wantonness. Although he still gave off a sinister and ruthless vibe when he was stern.

       He slowly ascended the stairs and heard his mother, Fang Huiyun, softly pleading beside Zhao Dongsheng, “Why do you get so angry? Jinchuan is still young; everyone makes small mistakes. Why get so worked up over this?”

       “Small mistakes?” Zhao Dongsheng was furious, “Idiot! The Eldest has been struggling for so long with that Shen family over a position, and he’s finally about to make it—do you have any idea how many eyes are on the Zhao family right now? And at such a critical moment, your good-for-nothing son actually dared to hire someone to commit murder! Absolutely lawless!”

       Perhaps because they knew the topic was confidential, all the servants in the house had been sent away, and only Zhao Dongsheng’s personal secretary Yue Zhong was waiting at the door. Zhao Jinchuan pushed the door open and walked in. Fang Huiyun was afraid he would face Zhao Dongsheng’s wrath. She rushed forward and said, “There’s food downstairs, you should…”

       “I’m not hungry,” Zhao Jinchuan plopped down on the sofa, brushing his still damp hair back, “You called me back just to scold me, right? Go ahead.”

       This attitude choked Zhao Dongsheng so much that he threw a teacup from the table at him in anger, spilling tea all over Zhao Jinchuan. The cup rolled to the ground and broke into pieces.

       “Oh!” Fang Huiyun exclaimed in shock, wiping the tea off her son while glaring at Zhao Dongsheng with teary eyes, “It was freshly brewed tea! What if he gets burned?”

       Zhao Dongsheng scolded, “Look at his arrogant attitude! I’ve warned him repeatedly—running a company requires discretion, and the formula of health care products must be carefully examined. You assured me nothing would happen, but how many times has this been now?”

       Zhao Jinchuan brushed off his trousers nonchalantly and said slowly, “You’ve seen the annual report. For my first venture into business, this profit is pretty good. Health supplements go into people’s stomachs; it’s normal for a few with weak constitutions to react badly. That old man wouldn’t let go, so I just gave him a lesson. If he can’t take a hit, that’s his own bad luck, not my fault.”

       “Bullshit!” Zhao Dongsheng cursed, “Do you even know what time it is? The whole family has to think twice before moving a finger, and here you are, causing such a huge mess! Look at all the messed-up news online!”

       Zhao Jinchuan gave a disdainful laugh, “Those who jump around online are cowards who didn’t dare to even fart loudly in real life. Have the cyber police arrest a couple, and they’ll quiet down. As for impact, don’t worry about it. They’re like fish, one second they’re all for justice, the next they forget it all for some celebrity gossip. If you scatter some fish food, it will spread from one person to ten, and then to a hundred, and they’ll chase it around for a while. What waves can they make?”

       Zhao Jinchuan said dismissively, “I’ve already dealt with the guy who did the hit-and-run. The police won’t catch anyone, nor will it trace back to the Zhao family. Since it’s already happened, if you find it troublesome… what was that phrase? Oh, ‘sacrificing personal relationships for the greater good’. You can just send me to jail, earn a good reputation for being law-abiding, and help my uncle out. The Zhao family won’t miss me.”

       He extended his arms as if ready for handcuffs.

       Zhao Dongsheng snorted coldly, “So you’re playing the part of the broken jar now?”

       “Aren’t I just a broken jar? The old man can’t stand the sight of me, and neither can you. You both think I’ll never measure up to the one she gave birth to. I heard you even needed a paternity test before acknowledging me—am I wrong?”

       “What nonsense are you talking about!” Fang Huiyun quickly tried to stop him.

       Zhao Jinchuan leaned back on the sofa and tilted his head to avoid her hand, “I know exactly which shameless cowards have been egging you on behind the scenes for today’s scolding. This isn’t a big deal—I can handle it myself, which is why I didn’t bother coming to report it to you. If you still feel like yelling, go ahead and yell a bit more. If not, I’ll be on my way.”

       “You…” Zhao Dongsheng’s anger flared up again.

       Fang Huiyun poked her son’s head hard and said preemptively, “Don’t always talk back to your dad. He’s just worried about you. Go change your pants, they’re wet.”

       Zhao Jinchuan stood up, looking at Zhao Dongsheng.

       Zhao Dongsheng didn’t say anything, his face stern.

       He turned and left.

       Zhao Dongsheng was still angry, and scolded Fang Huiyun, “You make a great shield!”

       Fang Huiyun glared back, “What else should I do? Let you scold him, let those two belittle him? He’s my son, if you won’t cherish him, I will. I might not have taught him well, but who told you to keep him hidden for so many years?” Her eyes reddened before she finished, murmuring, “If you had spent more time with him when he was young, he wouldn’t be causing trouble all the time.”

       “Alright,” Zhao Dongsheng rubbed his brow in frustration, “Every time I say something, you have a pile of words waiting.”

       “You provoked me,” Fang Huiyun wiped her eyes and refilled a cup for him, “Jinchuan is still young, inexperienced. He’ll mature with more experience. Don’t always scold him in anger; he respects you the most, it’ll hurt him.”

       “Respect my ass,” Zhao Dongsheng cursed and took the the teacup, “You spoil him too much, and it’ll lead to trouble.”

       “He’s straightforward and wears his heart on his sleeve—out of all the kids, isn’t he the one most like you?” Fang Huiyun touched his temples, “Don’t get upset over these small things; you’ll get more wrinkles. How about I stew some ginseng for you?”

       “If your precious son doesn’t cause more trouble, I’ll stay young,” Zhao Dongsheng’s anger was finally dissipated by Fang Huiyun. “Call xiao Yue in, I have some things for him to do.”

       Fang Huiyun knew this meant her husband was going to help their son clean up the mess, and she felt relieved, smiling as she opened the door for Yue Zhong.

              After Xiao Chengzong’s death, a self-operated news account broke the story of ‘The mysterious poisoning case of Baolijian and the plaintiff’s lawyer dying in an accident’, which quickly went viral, garnering significant media attention. 

       Baolijian already had a bad reputation, and now it was linked to a premeditated murder. It didn’t take long for indignant netizens to uncover the identity of Zhao Jinchuan’s identity as a major shareholder, exposing the Zhao family’s extensive influence across politics and business.

       However, this wave of outrage was soon quietly quelled by an invisible net.

       Comments were prohibited, reposts were rendered invalid, topics disappeared, and hot searches were removed.

       In just three hours, all information related to Baolijian and Kuangmu evaporated, leaving only a few brave self-media outlets stubbornly keeping the issue alive, like small waves in an ocean after a stone has sunk.

              Qin Mu arrived in J City by ten in the morning. It had just rained, leaving the ground wet. Gangzi rented a car, navigating to the address in the old city district in the east.

       The houses here were built in the 1980s. They were generally low and cramped, making the area feel crowded. Because a leader was due to visit a key project in the eastern suburbs and might pass through, the district had spent considerable effort painting the walls white near the road. These old buildings looked like painted ghosts with pink faces but gray backs, which looked quite bizarre.

       Zhang Wenhua lived in one of these mismatched tube-shaped buildings. Going up the stairs to the second floor, there were torn Spring Festival couplets pasted outside the iron door, and the ‘0’ in the doorplate ‘205’ was leaning weakly to one side.

       Qin Mu knocked, but there was no answer. Calling led to a message that the phone was off.

       He furrowed his brows.

       Uncle Zhang lived alone. His wife had passed away long ago, and he only had a daughter he rarely saw. He was not very mobile and seldom left home, yet he had proactively contacted Qin Mu earlier to sign the power of attorney. Now, his phone being off was clearly a sign of trouble.

       Gangzi leaned against the door and listened. He then checked outside the corridor window before agilely climbing out, using the wall for support.

       Qin Mu was startled, peering out to watch.

       Gangzi climbed the external water pipe, stepping on the protruding edge of the wall to peer into the window of room 205, then climbed back in. His movements so silent for such a big man. Qin Mu now understood why Chu Yu insisted he bring Gangzi; his skills were indeed impressive.

       Gangzi typed ‘there’s someone’ on his phone to show Qin Mu, but loudly said, “No one’s here, let’s go. We’ll come back once we contact him.”

       Qin Mu understood, replying, “Alright.”

       They went downstairs, left through the front, then circled back from behind. They hid at the corner of the third floor of the building opposite to watch.

       Soon, they saw three people in suits emerge from room 205, talking as they left the courtyard and got into a black Audi.

       Gangzi took photos with his phone, saying, “I’ll send these back for checking.”

       “No need,” Qin Mu said, “They’re either from Baolijian or Kuangmu, here to silence him.”

       “Then we…”

       “Wait.”

       They waited a bit longer. Qin Mu’s phone received a message saying the number he had called was now in service. He called again, and it was answered after two rings.

       “Lawyer xiao Qin…” Zhang Wenhua’s voice was weak, like a flickering candle in the wind, “I’m not doing this lawsuit anymore.”

       Qin Mu showed no particular emotion and seemed surprisingly calm. He said slowly, “Uncle Zhang, I’m not here to force you into the lawsuit. Regardless of whether we proceed, I wanted to see you because Teacher Xiao was working tirelessly for you right up until his accident; he was always very concerned about you.”

       A series of coughs came from the other end, the old man struggling to speak, “I am very sorry for him.”

       Qin Mu said, “I want to see you. Can I?”

       The old man was silent for a while before agreeing.

Support the author by buying the author’s works and/or giving some kisses here~
(It’s very easy to buy from myrics.com because they support Paypal payment in small amounts~)

We have a discord server for those who want to receive an update ping and various announcements~
Join here ^^

And please buy me some kofi if you like the translation~

Also leave some ratings if you like this series here~

       Qin Mu sat in Xiao Chengzong’s room until dawn.

       Before his death, Teacher Xiao had been handling a case commissioned by an elderly man in his sixties named Zhang Wenhua, who had developed organ damage after long-term use of a nutritional supplement produced by ‘Baolijian’* under the banner of the Kuangmu Group. A month ago, he was diagnosed with liver cancer.

       This was not a first case incident. Since it was launched five years ago, there have been numerous reports of adverse effects on the products, which boasted ‘strengthening the body and rejuvenating youth’ and claimed to be ‘the culmination of traditional Chinese medicine, absolutely safe with no side effects’.

       ‘Baolijian’ contained a traditional Chinese herb with trace amounts of SBXD*, which could accumulate in the liver and increase the risk of cancer. Yet, the company never altered the so-called ‘secret traditional Chinese medicine formula’ and instead ramped up its marketing efforts, quietly settling the few lawsuits that arose.

       Last September, Xiao Chengzong represented a patient with liver cysts in a compensation case against Kuangmu Corporation. Although the compensation was kept low, it was the first time the lawsuit was won with difficulty. Following this, many others affected by ‘Baolijian’ sought Xiao Chengzong’s help for their rights. Xiao Chengzong began to gather evidence, consulting with famous experts in medicine and pharmacology to analyse the product and case studies, preparing extensive groundwork.

       The old man did this not for fame or fortune but for justice. Like a fearless needle, he wove together a thread of suffering, about to pierce through the glossy facade to expose the ugliness beneath. At last, Baolijian Company could no longer sit still.

       Afterwards, Xiao Chengzong received threatening letters written in blood, silent midnight calls, and was even pushed down a staircase. The police never found valuable leads and treated these incidents as pranks. The old man was afraid that his relatives and friends would worry and get involved, so he kept silent about it.

       Although the old friend had gone, the work remained. The neatly stacked materials and open notebooks on the old wooden desk seemed to await the old man’s return quietly. This was the brightest spot in the room, where the old man had worked long hours, smoothing the edges of the desk. Qin Mu slowly traced the wood’s grain with his fingers, as if silently communicating with the deceased. He sat there for a long time until his phone rang, then he packed up all the materials and left.

       He booked an early morning flight to J City to handle the change of attorney for Zhang Wenhua. Before leaving, he met with Chu Yu and obtained some information.

              The person in charge at Baolijian was Zhao Jinchuan, one of the famous ‘Four Young Masters’ of J City. There were many scandals and rumors about him, from drunk driving and hitting people, to beating a cohabitating actress to disability, to drug use and debauchery at parties… These evil acts that would land an ordinary person in jail for life had no effect on him.

       Because his last name was Zhao.

       The Zhao family was deeply rooted in J City. With General Zhao laying the foundation, the younger generation naturally could enjoy the shade. The Zhao family had numerous branches, extensive marriages, and intertwined business and political interests. It was like a giant spider entrenched in J City, stretching out its slender legs in the giant web, sensitively detecting the vibration of each silk thread.

       Among these many spider legs, the thickest belonged to Zhao Dongsheng. Zhao Dongsheng, Old Zhao’s youngest son, was sharp-minded and cunning from a young age, unlike his two older brothers. He leveraged the resources from his well-positioned father and brothers to make a name for himself in business. He later married Song Min, the daughter of a dairy industry magnate, to establish the powerful Kuangmu Empire.

       Their marriage was purely a business arrangement with no real affection. Song Min, who detested his philandering ways, moved to the US for recuperation after bearing twins. Having spent his life among countless women, Zhao Dongsheng eventually let one slip into his arms—Fang Huiyun. She was a folk singer who was reserved for grand occasions. She was more than ten years younger, had a pretty appearance, a keen mind, and the ability to adapt to any situation. Their fateful encounter led to the birth of a child.

       However, Old Zhao was vehemently against it, causing constant conflict. Zhao Dongsheng didn’t dare acknowledge the child, keeping the mother and child away for seven to eight years. Fang Huiyun waited patiently until Song Min passed away to bring Zhao Jinchuan into the family.

       The illegitimate child suddenly became a young master, but his inherent temper and character were extremely difficult to change. Zhao Jinchuan was both inferior and conceited, sinister and extreme. He could not tolerate any criticism from others and was very ruthless in doing things.

       Old Zhao disliked this grandson and never invited him to family dinners. Zhao Dongsheng was annoyed by his troublemaking nature but couldn’t disown his own blood, especially with Fang Huiyun’s constant persuasion. Zhao Jinchuan refused a nominal position in the corporation, demanding to start something big, so Zhao Dongsheng gave him startup funds. With some dubious health supplement formula, Zhao Jinchuan built Baoli Jian, beginning his path of making money through harmful means.

       J City’s complex web of interests included the Golden Eagle’s hidden lines. As its leader, Chu Yu couldn’t act openly but could assist Qin Mu privately. He provided detailed information, including relationship charts of key figures, distribution of interests, and other data. For Qin Mu’s safety, he assigned a capable bodyguard, disguised as an assistant, to accompany him.

       While waiting at the airport, Qin Mu received a message from Zhou Yi:

       —Arrived at the airport?

       —Arrived.

       —No new developments from the police. Teacher’s widow is in stable condition, and some classmates are helping with the funeral arrangements, don’t worry. Take care of yourself.

       Qin Mu replied with an ‘OK’ and rubbed his brow after taking off his glasses. He hadn’t slept for a day and night. His nerves stretched thin, showing signs of fatigue.

       Outside the glass wall, a massive airplane roared into the dawn sky, like an unruly bird disappearing into the horizon. The bodyguard, Gangzi, reminded him, “Lawyer Qin, it’s time to board.”

       Qin Mu packed his laptop into his bag and headed towards the boarding gate.

              At the same time, the bizarre night in J City was just ending.

       Zhao Jinchuan reached out from under the covers to silence the incessantly ringing phone, pulling the naked body beside him close, sucking at her breasts. The guest was woken up by his antics and caressed his head playfully, “So early in the morning! You wore me out last night.” Her voice was soft and sweet; it was the popular singer Yang Xue.

       Zhao Jinchuan, still playing with her nipple, moved his hand downwards, touching something that made her cry out. He chuckled, “Why are you squeezing so tight? Spread them, let me see if I’ve swollen you up.”

       “Ah, Young Master Chuan, I beg for mercy… Can I beg for mercy? I have a schedule today. If you do it again, I won’t be able to get up.”

       As they tangled in the sheets, the phone rang again. Yang Xue caught a glimpse of the caller ID and was filled with jealousy, “Oh, which ‘great beauty’ is this?”

       “My mom, why are you jealous for no reason?” Zhao Jinchuan slapped her buttocks hard, snatching the phone and answering it. After a couple of sentences, he grew impatient, “Alright, alright, I’m coming back.” The call killed his mood, and he was ready to leave after a shower.

       Yang Xue handed him a warmed cup of milk, “Have some, you drank so much last night…”

       Zhao Jinchuan pushed it away with a cold face, “Mind your own business.”

       He was an extremely emotional person. One moment he was in a sunny mood, the next stormy. It was obvious that he was in a bad mood at the moment. The milk spilled over Yang Xue’s hand, burning her. She placed the cup aside without saying anything, laughing it off, “It’s raining outside, let the driver pick you up.” She knew he had drunk a lot yesterday and was probably still over the limit. However, she didn’t dare advise him directly, only suggesting indirectly.

       Zhao Jinchuan caught on, raising an eyebrow, “Why? Afraid I’ll get arrested for drunk driving and won’t be there to support you?” He slapped her face a few times, “Don’t worry, your man can handle anything. Be good, don’t give me a headache.”

       The slaps were hard. Yang Xue’s face was tilted to the side, but she smiled good-naturedly, “I was worrying for nothing.” She owed it all to this man’s money, from being an unknown member of a girl group to a top-tier idol. She would rather endure his drunken beatings, rough sex, and sudden mood swings than fall from fame to obscurity. This was the path she chose.

       After seeing Zhao Jinchuan off, Yang Xue went to the bathroom to wash. Last night, in the heat of the moment, he had been rough with her at the table’s edge. She had a large bruise on her lower back, purple bite marks on her chest, and her lower body was sore. It stung when water touched it. She finished her difficult shower and stood in front of the mirror. Her reflection blurred by steam, like a nameless shadow. She wiped the mirror, revealing her reddened eyes. Her phone rang; her assistant was urging her downstairs. She quickly wiped her tears, responding, “I’ll be right there.”

*Note: All companies, cases, drugs, and characters mentioned in this text are fictional and do not allude to any real entities or individuals.

T/N:
Sorry for the long update lol
I’ve been quite busy and honestly the first few chapters have heavy scenes (not smut heavy but content heavy) so I took longer time to process things lmao

I planned to release a few chapters to compensate for the absence of new chapter the past few weeks ><

Support the author by buying the author’s works and/or giving some kisses here~
(It’s very easy to buy from myrics.com because they support Paypal payment in small amounts~)

We have a discord server for those who want to receive an update ping and various announcements~
Join here ^^

And please buy me some kofi if you like the translation~

Also leave some ratings if you like this series here~