Chapter 162 Revenge

He had only meant to tease her, never expecting she would take it seriously. Lu Feng helped her to her feet, gently stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

Yao Chuchu sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, head bowed and lips pressed tightly together in silence.

“Were you scared hiding under the bed?” Lu Feng asked.

Yao Chuchu nodded, then quickly shook her head. After a moment, she said, “I knew you’d come back to save me. I was just afraid someone else would find me first…”

Lu Feng slipped his hands under her robe, gripping her shoulders and slowly pulling the robe down to his elbows, revealing her fair, delicate shoulder.

Her heart pounded wildly at the thought of what Lu Feng intended to do. Her face flushed, and she hurriedly lowered her head and closed her eyes.

He caressed her smooth shoulder and arm, his palm slowly moving down to cup the soft flesh beneath her armpit, gently stroking and kneading.

Yao Chuchu didn’t know what to do, so she simply let him touch her.

Lu Feng supported her as she lay back, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheek, and finally her lips.

Only then did Yao Chuchu begin to respond, their thin lips sucking softly at one another.

Lu Feng lifted her robe, grasped her small, pert hips, and entered her, his primal instincts breaking free as he became more forceful with each thrust.

Worried that sudden movements might hurt his wound, Yao Chuchu clung tightly to his back, pressing their bodies close together, enduring the pain without moving or crying out.

…

In the early morning, Yao Chuchu rose early, dressed, and prepared to leave.

The morning air was chilly, so she put on a coat before stepping out. She went to the nearest pharmacy to buy gauze and wound ointment, then picked up a modest breakfast before heading home.

The small breakfast wasn’t meant for three people; she thought Lu Feng should eat twice as much to make up for his lost strength.

When she returned, Lu Feng was already sitting in the living room.

Yao Chuchu took out the gauze and ointment and hurried over. “Let me change your bandages first. I bought some medical gauze.”

Lu Feng nodded and removed the cloth strip from his shoulder.

His wound had already scabbed over; such a minor injury was nothing to him.

But Yao Chuchu felt a pang of sympathy, so she was especially careful.

After applying the ointment and rebandaging the wound, she brought out the breakfast. “Let’s eat. The steamed buns downstairs are really good. I bought three baskets, plus some soy milk.”

“We’re meeting with Xia Chong and the others today. Are you coming?” Lu Feng asked, swallowing a steamed bun.

Yao Chuchu hesitated. “Do I need to go?”

“Yes, come along.”

“Okay,” she nodded.

…

At the safe house belonging to Xia Yubing and Zhong Jianguo, Guo Yanzhi had stayed all day yesterday.

Xia Yubing and Zhong Jianguo only returned in the evening.

They woke early this morning and immediately began training, as rigorous as military drills at the police academy.

Guo Yanzhi, unaccustomed to exercise and hardly ever working out since graduation, was woken by the sound of their sparring. Sleepy and dazed, he sat in the living room until someone rang the doorbell.

Lu Feng and Yao Chuchu entered, and Guo Yanzhi asked, “Are you here to lay low or to see the hostage?”

“Who’s the hostage?”

“Xia Chong shoved Yuan Jianhui into the trunk and brought him here. He’s locked in the master bedroom,” Guo Yanzhi said, pointing to a door.

“With so many of you, how did you all sleep last night?”

“Xia Chong stayed in the secondary bedroom, Uncle Zhong and Yuan Jianhui in the master bedroom. I slept on the sofa,” Guo Yanzhi answered.

Xia Yubing finished morning exercises and came over. “Last night when we went to Jiuting Mountain, we happened to catch Yuan Jianhui trying to escape. We knocked him out and stuffed him in the trunk. They fired shots—this guy either stays locked up or dies. No way he gets away.”

“The shooting last night was serious, right? Could a senior police inspector lead an investigation here?” Lu Feng asked.

“No. It’ll be classified as gang conflict because the New East Society is involved, and so is the Yuan family. If this case gets exposed, Wang Yongye might be implicated. So this will definitely be suppressed,” Guo Yanzhi said, putting on his glasses and seeming like a different person.

“Are you Officer Guo now?”

“No. Officer Guo was a good cop. I can’t be a good cop anymore,” Guo Yanzhi replied.

From the moment she heard Yuan Jianhui’s name, Yao Chuchu seemed lost in thought.

Lu Feng knew if the wounds from five years ago weren’t healed, she would never let go. He led her into the room.

On a chair sat Yuan Jianhui, bound tightly and gagged with tape. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, dark circles under his eyes. Seeing Lu Feng enter, he widened his eyes and started to mumble.

Guo Yanzhi followed with some documents and peeled off the tape from Yuan Jianhui’s mouth.

“Let me go, I’ll pay you whatever you want. My family’s company is worth billions; I can afford anything,” Yuan Jianhui hurriedly said.

Leaning against the doorframe, Xia Yubing said, “They shot at us. Don’t expect to live no matter what they decide. You’re dead meat here.”

“No! I don’t want to die! Give me a chance! I was forced into it! Kun Jiu did all those things, not me!” Yuan Jianhui begged.

Lu Feng pulled Yao Chuchu forward, letting her stand before Yuan Jianhui. He whispered in her ear, “He’s right in front of you now. Ask whatever you want. Get your answers.”

Yao Chuchu bit her lip and mustered her courage. “You’re the one who killed my mother, aren’t you?”

“It wasn’t me! Really, it wasn’t!” Yuan Jianhui hastened to deny.

Guo Yanzhi adjusted his glasses. “You’re lying. Last time you said your mother lost money gambling in Macau and secretly swapped the antiques. We’ve questioned her. Her reaction proves you’re lying!”

“I’m not lying… please don’t kill me…” Yuan Jianhui wailed.

Lu Feng grew tired of questioning. He pulled out his pistol, placed it in Yao Chuchu’s hand, and held her hand steady as they aimed at Yuan Jianhui.

“All of them are guilty. Killing him won’t be unjust. If you want revenge, pull the trigger.”

“No! No! Don’t!” Yuan Jianhui screamed, terrified by the dark muzzle.

Yao Chuchu’s hands trembled as she gripped the gun. Without Lu Feng steadying her, she couldn’t hold it.

Her emotions surged—fear, excitement, shock. One pull of the trigger would avenge her mother. She desperately wanted to, but her finger wouldn’t move.

Finally, tears streaming down, she lowered the gun, turned, and leaned against Lu Feng’s shoulder, crying.