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