Chapter 30: Arrest Not preparing for an out-of-court settlement.

**Chapter 30: Arrested with No Plans for an Out-of-Court Settlement**

Qin Zixian couldn’t believe the scene before his eyes.

If not for the charges announced by the police, he might have almost forgotten the nerve-wracking moment when he clicked the “send” button on that email.

“What’s going on?” Cheng Dong had pushed his way to the front of the crowd and now stood there, looking at Qin Zixian with a mix of concern and worry.

In the center of the bar, Qin Zixian was dumbfounded.

Just a second ago, he had been holding court, bragging about his ambitions and boasting his talents in front of everyone. Who would’ve thought that the next moment, the police would burst in, clap handcuffs on him, and deny him any chance to argue or defend himself?

“I…” Qin Zixian tried to speak but couldn’t get a full sentence out. All he could manage was a pathetic excuse, stammering, “It must be a misunderstanding… H-how could I… be a c-commercial spy? Right?”

He nervously glanced around. The young men who had been fawning over him moments ago had dropped their admiring looks, now staring at him with scorn.

He couldn’t take their scornful stares.

Qin Zixian frantically blinked at Cheng Dong, trying to signal him like he was sending Morse code. His message was clear—he hoped his old roommate could help salvage some dignity.

But Cheng Dong, though standing right there, acted as if he couldn’t see his friend’s desperate plea, turning on him faster than a flipped switch.

Eyes wide, mouth open, he pointed straight at Qin Zixian in the middle of the crowd and began chewing him out: “Zixian, how could you be so foolish! How could you do something like this? Do you know how serious commercial espionage is? It could even affect the job prospects of our juniors! Asians already have enough hurdles—if they face discrimination because of this, have you thought about the consequences?”

Qin Zixian: ?

Not only did he refuse to help, but he actually turned against him too?

After Cheng Dong’s dressing-down, many of the freshmen who had been on the fence finally broke into whispers and mutters, nearly blowing the roof off.

The same young people who had praised Qin just minutes ago were now furious at the idea of their expensive American Dream being ruined because of him. If not for the police presence, they might have rushed forward and thrown a few punches!

Inside the industrial-style bar, the crowd’s voices grew louder than their earlier praise, clearly meant for Qin Zixian to hear:

—Who’s he kidding, pretending to be some big shot?

—A successful person? And he was supposed to give the graduation speech? Representing what? The federal penitentiary?

—What a goddamn disgrace, ruining everything for the rest of us!

—Disgusting. Not only does he break the law, but he flaunts his dirty money in front of us?

Qin Zixian stared at them all in disbelief.

He couldn’t bear their accusations, yet he had no defense. So he latched onto the one thing he could say.

“You… I paid for everything tonight! Don’t bite the hand that feeds you! You ungrateful bunch—just wait!”

From the crowd, the guy who had once called him “Senior Zixian” stepped forward first. He slammed down a wad of crumpled cash on the table and shouted, “We don’t need your damn money! What a joke—you said you were covering the whole night, but gave us nothing but bottom-shelf swill. We let it slide, but turns out you’re a criminal! Qin Zixian, if you can’t hack it, crawl back home…”

Then suddenly, he laughed out loud, spreading his arms and shrugging at the group behind him.

“Oh wait—he’s gotta finish his prison sentence first!”

“Savage!”

Under the rafters of the bar, peals of mocking laughter rose and fell.

The police van at the door was already in position. The officer behind Qin Zixian shoved him, and he stumbled forward awkwardly, his abdomen bumping right into Cheng Dong’s elbow.

“Yelping in pain,” Qin Zixian nearly jumped out of his skin.

He looked up and met Cheng Dong’s fake-concerned eyes, which made his skin crawl. He instinctively took two small steps back.

Seeing his fright, Cheng Dong maintained the charade with a pitying, “disappointed bro” look—only to lean in and hiss chillingly into his ear, “Still putting on an act? Wonder if your grandma’s pension can even cover the bail?”

Qin Zixian nearly jumped out of his skin.

“You—how did you know?!”

Cheng Dong didn’t answer. He kept up the charade, shaking his head with a mix of pity and regret, sighing occasionally.

Behind them, the officers barked at Qin to move. One middle-aged cop even gave him an impatient shove.

Those ten yards felt like an eternity.

Tonight’s full moon flooded Brooklyn in a mix of silver light and the neon glow from the bridge. The bar’s neon sign pulsed alongside the flashing lights of the police cars parked by the curb.

A smattering of rubberneckers had gathered outside the bar, though their numbers paled in comparison to the hooting posse of “bros” trailing behind Qin Zixian.

After all, for the locals, the sudden appearance of screaming squad cars was nothing new—just the same old story of stabbings, drugs, robberies, or shootings.

The rear door of the police car was already open. Handcuffed, Qin Zixian instinctively glanced at the Brooklyn Bridge not far behind the vehicle.

That world-famous steel suspension bridge connected Brooklyn to Manhattan. In his memories, he had often driven his rattletrap Nissan across the East River.

It hit him then—those carefree days might be gone for good.

The door slammed shut, and the reality of his situation sank in.

He was really under arrest.

What now?

As the scenery outside the window blurred past, Qin Zixian’s mind raced.

He had made quite a bit of money recently. Between the final payment from the Mexican buyer and the ad revenue from exposing Xu Miaoli, he could probably cobble together two hundred grand—at least enough for bail.

Then came the lawyer. He could claim he’d been deceived. If he played the contrite angle, kowtowed to the company, and emphasized being an only child from a poor family, he might negotiate a settlement. Maybe he could even avoid jail time altogether.

Lastly, his reputation.

That was the tough part.

The memory of Cheng Dong kicking him while he was down made Qin Zixian boil with rage. He never imagined the one person he’d trusted in New York would betray him like this—after he’d even brought him in on exposing Xu Miaoli.

Maybe he could pin everything on Cheng Dong after getting out?

He quickly dismissed the idea.

Knowing Cheng Dong, the man might seem unremarkable, but he was cunning. There was no way Qin Zixian could outmaneuver him—he’d probably end up worse off.

What about Tang Tang?

No, that rich girl was stubborn. Messing with her would only get his ass handed to him—both physically and legally.

Or… what about Xu Miaoli?

No way. He had been too ruthless with her before, showing zero mercy. If he really tried to smear Xu Miaoli, she might go scorched-earth and expose everything from the past.

In the end... the only option left was to pin it on the American police.

After all, it wasn’t their first time arresting foreigners. At worst, he could claim he was being discriminated against and maybe even con a few idiots into joining him in raging against the feds.

In just twenty minutes of the ride, Qin Zixian had already figured out his whole exit strategy. As long as everything went according to his script, he could get off scot-free.

New York’s judicial system didn’t have separate detention centers. Upon arriving at the police station, he was immediately locked in a big holding pen without so much as a bench, filled with all sorts of offenders.

Some had sleeve tattoos, others had face tattoos, some sported wild red dye jobs, a few looked strung out, and one or two had messy hair and stubble, as if they’d been sleeping there for days.

Shaking, Qin Zixian scoped out a corner to sit in, carefully covering his knees and resting his chin on his palms, praying the prosecution would get to his case ASAP so he could post bail and get out.

The moon set, the sun rose, day and night cycled.

By the third morning, an officer finally called his name at the door and led him out of the temporary jail.

“The prosecutor is inside. Where’s your lawyer?”

Overjoyed, Qin Zixian barely registered the officer’s question and dropped onto a bench, eager to buy his way out. “Officer, how much is my bail? I can pay right now!”

The prosecutor handling the case was a blond man in his early thirties. He looked sharp and smirked slightly at Qin Zixian’s tone before asking formally, “Where’s your lawyer, Mr. Qin?”

Qin Zixian shook his head—he didn’t need some waste-of-money mouthpiece. “I don’t need one. This is just a big mix-up. Once I post bail, I’ll work things out with my company. Don’t worry, I’ve always been law-abiding in New York—”

The blond prosecutor cut him off, raising an eyebrow with an amused tone. “Mr. Qin, your case isn’t that simple. I strongly suggest you hire a defense attorney. Also, your bail… is this amount.”

He pulled a slip of paper with a number from a stack of files and slid it across the smooth police station desk.

Qin Zixian eagerly took it, but the moment he saw the figure, his breath caught, and his blood pressure spiked.

He snapped, “Half a mil? Where the hell am I supposed to get half a million dollars? This is straight-up robbery!”

The blond prosecutor ignored his outburst and continued matter-of-factly, “The bail amount is directly tied to your case. You can discuss it with your family—there’s a phone here at the station. And remember to hire a lawyer. We’ll see you in court.”

With that, he patted the officer by the door and strolled out of the interview room, whistling casually.

Just as he was about to step out completely, the prosecutor turned back and added, “Oh, and I heard your company isn’t interested in settling out of court. If you don’t want to go to prison, you’d better find yourself a skilled lawyer.”