Chapter Sixty-Two: A Self-Deceiving Farce

The once-remote Qingshui Bay Street was even more deserted late at night, with not a soul in sight. The street lay close to the inner ring elevated highway; a glance upward revealed its shadowy silhouette. Many residents had been jolted awake by the explosion moments ago, their heads poking out to witness five helicopters circling high above, with sporadic bursts of gunfire echoing through the night.

Annoyed, the residents grumbled—what kind of film crew shoots at such an hour, disrupting everyone’s peace? The country had always been tranquil; the rare murder committed by a desperate criminal was already a sensational case. None could imagine that real combat—or more aptly, slaughter—was unfolding atop the elevated highway.

Not everyone thought so, however. Amid the dim street, a black Audi A8 sat parked, its body merging with the darkness, so much so that one might crash right into it without noticing. Inside sat a middle-aged man, his face shadowed and grim, binoculars pressed to his eyes as he watched the battle. He had never believed this was a movie set, for the Guanyu operation was intricately linked to him.

“How could this happen? How did Crimson Security learn of this?” The man shook his head and sighed; no matter how he puzzled over it, he could not fathom how Crimson Security had obtained information about Guanyu Security’s operation. He understood Crimson Security’s response speed—swift as lightning—but even so, preparations would take time. From receiving the message to arriving here would take at least ten minutes.

Yet ten minutes ago, the operation had only just begun. Three Land Rover military vehicles—no one would have guessed they targeted Xiao Cheng. How did Crimson Security discover this?

The more he thought, the more alarming it seemed. Could it be that the entire operation was under Crimson Security’s control? The possibility startled him. If that were true, had he exposed himself? If so, the consequences would be dire.

He shook his head, dismissing the notion. In this plan, he had merely played a hidden hand: leaking the information that Zhuo Qinglian was the true culprit behind Qiao Yifeng’s death to the Qiao family, and secretly connecting them with Guanyu Security. He had never shown his face; no one would know he was involved.

His motive for orchestrating Zhuo Qinglian’s death was ultimately to deal with Xiao Cheng. Recently, Xiao Cheng’s whereabouts were unknown, and he hoped to lure him out. Unexpectedly, Xiao Cheng was with Zhuo Qinglian.

He dared not kill Xiao Cheng directly—he couldn’t answer for it to those above. But since Xiao Cheng was with Zhuo Qinglian, if he died in a gang shootout, he would not be blamed; Xiao Cheng’s incompetence would be faulted.

How could he let such an opportunity slip? It was a perfect, seamless trap, and no one would suspect him as the mastermind. Only, he had not anticipated Crimson Security’s sudden appearance, which shattered all his plans.

“It seems the plan has failed, but it doesn’t matter. There will be other chances. Xiao Cheng is just a second-generation rich kid.” He muttered to himself, started the Audi, and silently left the street.

Streetlights glinted on the Audi’s rear, revealing the license plate XS999. If Xiao Cheng saw this car, he would know immediately who was inside. This was Xiao Fusheng’s exclusive vehicle; only two people ever drove it—Xiao Fusheng and his top henchman, Wang Qiyi.

Although Xiao Fusheng held little affection for Xiao Cheng, often calling him a disgrace, he would never treat his grandson so ruthlessly. The identity of the middle-aged man was clear—he was Wang Qiyi.

Xiao Cheng was no omniscient deity; he could not possibly detect the black car a thousand meters away, nor guess that Wang Qiyi, Xiao Fusheng’s chief henchman, was orchestrating everything from behind the scenes.

On the inner ring elevated highway, everything unfolded under Xiao Cheng’s control. Having identified the mastermind behind the plot, Xiao Cheng was puzzled—why did the Qiao family target Zhuo Qinglian? Was it because they discovered he had killed Qiao Yifeng, but lacked the courage to confront him, so they settled for killing Zhuo Qinglian to find psychological balance?

Since mercenaries were involved, they must have done their homework and knew he was in the car. The Qiao family had no guts to challenge him. Though they didn’t know the full strength of the Xiao family, they knew they could not afford to provoke them—unless they wished to cease to exist.

Xiao Cheng could not make sense of it; he was certain the Qiao family lacked the nerve, yet they acted anyway. Why?

“Do you know why the Qiao family wants to deal with Qinglian?” Xiao Cheng asked Yan Hongde, who lay weakly on the ground.

“They say it’s because Sister Qinglian killed the Qiao family’s eldest son, Qiao Yifeng. They want revenge.” Yan Hongde, utterly cowed, confessed everything to Xiao Cheng. His cooperation stemmed from a desire to let his wife become a widow—there was nothing more absurd.

Xiao Cheng nodded, not committing himself, but inwardly puzzled. He had ordered Li Zirui to kill Qiao Yifeng; how had it become Zhuo Qinglian? Something was amiss—this scheme was not as simple as it appeared.

“You… didn’t you say the target was Xiao Cheng? How is it now Qinglian?” Long Worm stared at Yan Hongde in shock.

Yan Hongde cast him a pitying glance. Despite his imposing stature, Long Worm was nothing but a fool, still believing their aim was simply Xiao Cheng.

Seeing Yan Hongde’s expression, Long Worm suddenly understood—he had merely been used.

He laughed bitterly. He had thought himself the hero in a tale of love and loyalty, only to realize he’d been a clown all along, joyfully exploited, almost counting money for his enemies, thinking himself important.

In others’ eyes, he was nothing but a fool. No wonder Qinglian left him. Compared to Xiao Cheng, young though he was, his background was formidable and his mind sharp—he could destroy all obstacles with a smile. Long Worm could not compare.

All jealousy faded from his heart, though he remained unwilling to accept it.

“Qinglian, all these years I’ve been by your side. You never chose me, and now you’ve chosen Young Master Xiao. I understand—I’m not his equal. But do I mean nothing to you at all?” Long Worm stared at Zhuo Qinglian, his gaze intense. It was the first time he’d asked such a blunt question.

Zhuo Qinglian looked at him with pity and regret. She understood his feelings over the years, but what did others’ affection matter to her? Though it sounded irresponsible, it was the truth. Besides, she had known Xiao Cheng first; she’d been his woman before Long Worm ever entered her life.

More importantly, as an independent and strong-willed woman, she had never considered relying on a man. Even when she gave everything to Xiao Cheng, it was out of despair and gratitude, not because of his family background.

After her family died, desperate and fleeing her enemies, she met Xiao Cheng and gave him everything. He became her only kin; she had always treated him as a younger brother, until recently, when her feelings changed.

What right did Long Worm have to accuse her of coveting Xiao Cheng’s background?

But after so many years together, she was not cold-hearted. There was affection, but only the bond between a leader and her subordinate.

“I’ve belonged to Xiao Cheng since I was nineteen. All these years, I told you I had a man—you just didn’t believe me. And Xiao Cheng is the master of the Qinglian Gang.” With that, Zhuo Qinglian turned away, unable to bear looking any longer.

To Long Worm, her words were thunder from a clear sky. Everything had been his own wishful thinking; it wasn’t that Zhuo Qinglian had left him for another, nor that Xiao Cheng had stolen her away. To Zhuo Qinglian and Xiao Cheng, he was merely a third wheel, not even that—just a toad yearning for swan meat.

Long Worm smiled miserably. He wasn’t just a joke tonight—he’d been a joke for five years, living in a lie of his own making.

“Go. I won’t hold tonight against you.” Xiao Cheng knew Zhuo Qinglian couldn’t bear to see her followers die, so he let Long Worm go.

He’d never intended a massacre tonight. He wanted to send a warning, so that future troublemakers would think twice before bothering him. Long Worm was insignificant; whether he lived or died mattered little.

“Hahaha!” Suddenly, Long Worm burst out laughing wildly, charging at Xiao Cheng.

Forgiveness? But could he live with himself? Xiao Cheng had the power to decide his fate, but Long Worm could choose how to die—he refused Xiao Cheng’s mercy.

He rushed toward Xiao Cheng, but barely took two steps before fifty guns fired in unison, unleashing a hail of bullets. The force sent his large body flying, blood pouring from his wounds. By the time he hit the ground, he was no longer recognizable, merely a heap of blood-soaked flesh.

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[This update makes up for yesterday's missed chapter. Thank you for your continued support!]