The visitor was no surprise to Ning Zhuo.
Lin Qin stood up to greet him, wearing a slightly embarrassed smile. “I’m here again.”
Ning Zhuo glanced at the person beside him.
It wasn’t a “White Shield” officer from the Chang’an District precinct, but one of Lin Qin’s subordinates from the 930 Task Force.
Just that one look told Ning Zhuo exactly why Lin Qin had come. “Sit.”
Lin Qin sat down, and Ning Zhuo followed suit.
He bent his legs slightly, giving his waist a light support before settling down smoothly.
The motion of raising his hand to his waist took no more than a second.
Lin Qin asked softly, “Not feeling well?”
Ning Zhuo: “…” What kind of eyes do you have?
He replied flatly, “With this broken body of mine, living this long is pure luck.”
Lin Qin chuckled. “Nonsense.”
He pulled a notepad from the table and quickly scribbled a line: “Let me introduce you to an old Chinese doctor.”
Ning Zhuo took the note. “You’ve seen him yourself?”
“A colleague did—said his massage techniques are excellent.” Lin Qin capped his pen. “…Oh, right. We’ve found Motobu Takeshi.”
The young officer who had followed Lin Qin, Xiao Xu, had just been stunned by Ning Zhuo’s beauty and puzzled by the familiarity between the two men. Now, with this sudden remark from Lin Qin, he was yanked back to reality.
He couldn’t react fast enough.
Ning Zhuo, however, remained calm. He raised an eyebrow slightly and turned to Kuang Hexuan, who had come along with him.
This was Kuang Hexuan’s first time working alongside Ning Zhuo, and he was nervous. He blanked for a moment before catching the cue. “Oh, right… yeah, that happened.”
Ning Zhuo turned back. “So now we know. Alive or dead?”
Kuang Hexuan quietly replied, “Alive.”
Lin Qin gave Kuang Hexuan an interested glance. “You look unfamiliar. From ‘Panqiao’?”
Kuang Hexuan: “Mm.”
Lin Qin asked gently, “And how do you know Motobu Takeshi is still alive?”
Kuang Hexuan glanced nervously at Ning Zhuo. “Can I say?”
Ning Zhuo gave a silent wave, his wrist turning slightly to indicate he could speak.
So Kuang Hexuan answered truthfully: “I’m in charge of online intelligence. This morning someone posted that ‘White Shield’s salvage team hauled up a huge chunk of cement, and when they cracked it open, the guy inside was still alive. ‘White Shield’ immediately took him into protection. Some bystanders heard a ‘White Shield’ officer on the phone telling someone that the person they’d dug out was Motobu Takeshi. Later you guys sealed off the information and deleted everything from the net.”
Lin Qin listened attentively, gently rubbing his chin with his fingertips.
A blunt, honest type.
Not the lying kind.
Good.
Lin Qin clasped his hands together, his tone warm. “So then, do you know why I came to see Ning Zhuo?”
“Of course.” Kuang Hexuan nodded eagerly. “That old pervert Motobu Takeshi disappeared right after Ning-ge and our boss went to ‘handle trouble’ for someone in the same prison block.”
Kuang Hexuan wanted to mutter something like “that lecher even hired Ning-ge and our boss to guard him, what a joke,” but after thinking about it, he realized that sounded childish and held his tongue.
He really wanted to make a good impression on Ning Zhuo.
Lin Qin noted this with quiet approval.
This part matched exactly what Ning Zhuo had told him.
Smiling, Lin Qin turned to Ning Zhuo. “They’re calling you ‘Ning-ge’ already? Not bad. A few days ago, seeing you and Shan Feibai at the ‘Columbus’ memorial banquet, I was worried about how your families were getting along.”
Ning Zhuo replied lightly, “No need for concern.”
With that, he effortlessly deflected Lin Qin’s probing and waited quietly for what was next.
Lin Qin made no attempt to conceal anything. He lowered his hands, flat against the table. “Motobu Takeshi gave us some information. About you.”
Ning Zhuo: “Let’s hear it.”
Lin Qin spoke with his usual gentle and measured tone. “He said the frequent accidents he suffered in prison were deliberately staged.”
“The earlier assassination attempts, falling objects, electrical shorts, ground glass in his food—all were meant to keep him on edge but not to kill him outright.”
“What truly terrified him was the attempt that nearly succeeded. Afraid he’d die inside the prison, he pulled some strings to get out, to somewhere safer. He’d done this sort of thing before.”
“But this time, the moment he stepped outside, he was abducted.”
“Who could engineer accidents inside the prison? Why hadn’t he encountered this danger before?”
“So… wouldn’t any newly-arrived prisoner be a prime suspect?”
The air grew heavy.
Both Xiao Xu and Kuang Hexuan were stunned.
Xiao Xu because he’d never heard such a theory.
Until now, he’d honestly believed that Motobu Takeshi was the real culprit behind the 930 case—trying to escape because the police were closing in, and then crossing some criminal organization that punished him brutally.
But Lin Qin’s reasoning sounded far more convincing.
Kuang Hexuan, on the other hand, realized that what Lin Qin said might be true.
He knew Shan Feibai—and that string of “accidents” sounded exactly like something Shan Feibai would do: mischievous, cruel, and mocking.
After a brief silence, Ning Zhuo finally spoke.
“That’s not what he said. That’s what you think.” Ning Zhuo’s voice was firm. “What Motobu Takeshi probably said was ‘Please, just let me die.’”
Xiao Xu shot to his feet. “You!…”
But Ning Zhuo remained cold and unruffled. “To be sealed in concrete and still not die… he must have been modified. If you’ve never seen cyborgs, go check the case files on those girls from the Motobu Takeshi incident. If they were still breathing, it was a miracle. Motobu Takeshi surviving cement burial and still thinking clearly enough to ‘analyze’ things? That’s a medical marvel. He should be sent to a research lab.”
“Lin Qin.” Ning Zhuo fixed him with a steady gaze. “Bring evidence. Don’t make wild guesses. Be a good policeman.”
Lin Qin opened his mouth to reply—just as someone knocked at the conference room door.
It was Yu Shujian.
He poked his head in. “Boss, can you come out for a moment? You’ve got a call.”
Ning Zhuo stood up. “Sorry, I’ll be away for a while.”
If it wasn’t something urgent, Yu Shujian wouldn’t have interrupted his meeting so indiscreetly.
And Ning Zhuo already had a guess as to who was so eager to contact him.
He stepped out of the reception room and, just one wall away from Lin Qin, answered the urgent call.
As he stood still, Ning Zhuo subconsciously rested one hand lightly over his lower abdomen.
Lately, he didn’t like standing much, because there was always a faint soreness welling up from deep inside his body—as if Dan Feibai had left his mark on him—a brand hammered in just like the countless wounds he’d left on him before.
But this wound was more hidden than the others, carrying a scent of blood… and an air of possessive romance.
“Hello?” said Ning Zhuo.
Charlemagne’s cold voice questioned him from the other end: “Why is Motobu Takeshi still alive?”
Ning Zhuo lowered his head slightly. “Sorry. I thought your good wife would finish the job properly for you.”
Charlemagne clearly hadn’t expected Ning Zhuo to admit his involvement so openly and boldly.
Ning Zhuo had dragged both husband and wife into the mud and profited from both sides, collecting fees from each of them!
He was clearly toying with them!
Charlemagne’s voice dropped into a growl. “You’re quite something, Ning.”
Ning Zhuo listened to his breakdown with care. “Thanks for the compliment.”
But Charlemagne only lost control for that brief moment.
With trembling fingers, he straightened his tie. “You haven’t finished my job yet. I told you to kill Motobu Takeshi.”
Ning Zhuo countered smoothly: “So you want a refund? Fine. But only half. The deposit’s non-refundable.”
As he said this, Ning Zhuo raised an eyebrow slightly.
Why did his tone sound so much like Dan Feibai’s?
Like a complete scoundrel.
Charlemagne suspected Ning Zhuo was provoking him on purpose.
His voice sank. “I told you to kill Motobu Takeshi for me.”
“He’s under police protection now. That’s risky business.”
Charlemagne’s tone turned icy. “What are you saying? You’re backing out now?”
“I’m saying,” Ning Zhuo replied, “you’ll have to pay extra.”
“How much?”
Ning Zhuo beckoned to Yu Shujian.
Yu quickly handed over a device.
“Five million,” Ning Zhuo quoted.
Charlemagne thought he’d misheard. “…How much?”
“Five million. Take down the account number.”
Ning Zhuo tapped the device a few times and gave him the freshly generated account details.
Charlemagne was so furious his chest heaved. “That worthless life? He might die tomorrow anyway!”
“I know. This account will remain active for about ten minutes, so please make the transfer quickly. From what I know, you’ve got the funds—this will only cost you half your fortune at most. Consider it an investment in peace and prosperity. It’s a seller’s market this time, I’m afraid. No cash accepted. Pleasure doing business with you.”
Ning Zhuo hung up immediately, only to find Yu Shujian staring at him in a daze.
“What are you looking at?” asked Ning Zhuo.
Yu gulped, carefully choosing his words. “Did you… maybe… pick up some bad habits from Dan Feibai?”
A light smack to the back of his head from Ning Zhuo turned him into a quiet, obedient quail.
Back in the reception room, Lin Qin greeted him with a smile. “Business talk? Sounded like big numbers.”
Ning Zhuo shrugged. “Trade secret.”
Seeing his old friend in such unusually lively spirits, Lin Qin smiled half-seriously. “Don’t break the law.”
Ning Zhuo gazed at him thoughtfully. Just now, the caller on the other end of the line was none other than a high-ranking figure in the White Shield, once the so-called voice of ‘Sacred Law’ in Silver Hammer City.
And yet even someone like him now ranked below Lin Qin.
Ning Zhuo neither confirmed nor denied, tapping the table softly with his fingertip. “Aside from fishing for my secrets, anything else you need?”
“That’s all. I’ll take my leave.” Lin Qin stood. “Take care of your health.”
Ning Zhuo waved the slip of paper with the old doctor’s address. “I will.”
As the car pulled away from “Haina,” the driver, Xiao Xu, kept glancing at Lin Qin’s expression.
But Lin Qin simply lowered his head and scrolled through the case files, offering no comment on what had just happened.
Unable to resist, Xiao Xu tentatively asked, “Sir, what do you think of Ning Zhuo…? You two seem very close.”
“I worry about him,” Lin Qin replied without looking up. “His walk has a limp. He really should see a doctor.”
Xiao Xu licked his lips. “And you and him… what’s your relationship? You seem to know him very well.”
Lin Qin said, “He saved my life once. We’ve got some ties. If I had to put it… like a brother without blood.”
Xiao Xu respected Lin Qin greatly, but at this moment, he couldn’t read his thoughts at all. He gently probed, “But Ning Zhuo seems… involved, directly or indirectly, with several recent major cases. Should you maybe… put personal feelings aside?”
Seeing his worried junior, Lin Qin patted his head. “Xiao Xu, it’s good you think this way. Thanks for the reminder.”
Emboldened by Lin Qin’s praise, Xiao Xu pressed on. “If it really was him… what would you do?”
“If there’s proof, I’ll arrest him and bring him to justice. I’d bring him meals every day, too. His stomach needs proper care—he can’t eat prison food. But in any case, only the law can punish him. No one else.”
“What if the law can’t punish him?”
Lin Qin finally glanced at him with a faint smile, as if finding the question quite innocent.
“If the law can’t punish someone, that just means the law isn’t complete enough,” Lin Qin said seriously. “It needs fixing. Slowly but surely.”
Xiao Xu: “……”
Now he was even more puzzled about their relationship.
Lin Qin closed his eyes, recalling the conversation earlier.
Something about Ning Zhuo had struck him as odd.
Then suddenly, realization dawned.
Ning Zhuo had been wearing white.
…and the two spots on his chest had seemed slightly swollen, the flush of red faintly visible through the snow-white shirt—impossibly vivid.
Lin Qin covered his face with the tablet, trying to hide the thoughts that made his ears burn.
…What exactly had Ning Zhuo been up to lately?
