Chapter 63 Desperate

Chapter 63 Desperation

Jiang Luo looked past the knife tip at him: "You want to become a desperado? Your family won't come to a good end either."

"You can ignore your wife and son, but what about your mother?"

"That nursing home belongs to the Li family. Guess whether the Li family will still keep your mother in such a high-end nursing home if something happens to you."

"She has no family or friends in Taiwan. If she doesn't stay in the nursing home, will she just starve to death on the streets?"

As he said this last line, the knife tip slowly moved away, revealing Jiang Luo's dark, resolute eyes.

Guo Ronghai collapsed to the ground, losing his grip on the knife, his face covered in cold sweat—he wasn't a born desperado; he had been driven to desperation.

Not only did he lack the nerve to kill, but he was also cornered by Jiang Luo's few words, striking his pressure point.

Jiang Luo looked at him: "Let me go. I'll speak with Li Fengrui, and your mother can continue staying in the nursing home."

"You have no money left? I can front you some temporarily, so your wife and son won't starve in the U.S."

Jiang Luo's voice was calm and firm: "Guo Ronghai, we have our grudges, old and new, but it doesn't have to be life or death."

"Let me go, give me a chance. If I live, I'll make sure you and your family are taken care of too."

Guo Ronghai looked stunned, slumped on the ground, his gaze vacant and unfocused.

Jiang Luo didn't speak again. The room fell silent, and outside, it was equally quiet, without a sound.

"Why should I believe you?"

After a long while, Guo Ronghai wiped his face with his hand and spoke.

He looked at Jiang Luo. The rage and frenzy in his expression had vanished, replaced by distrust and furrowed brows.

He began to weigh the pros and cons.

"You don't have to believe me, but you have no choice."

Jiang Luo, lying on the ground, lifted his head and said calmly, "Just like I have no choice right now."

What a phrase—"no choice."

Guo Ronghai gave a cold, twisted smile.

Guo Ronghai wasn't stupid; he knew what was in his best interest.

He got to his feet, paused, then crouched beside Jiang Luo, picked up the knife again, rolled Jiang Luo onto his side, and began cutting the ropes.

As he cut, he said, "Jiang, you better do exactly as you said."

"You know my wife, son, and mother are all abroad."

"I'm here in the country, in Haicheng, with nothing left to lose."

"If you deceive me, we might as well die together."

Jiang Luo: "Don't worry, I mean what I say."

The knife cut through the ropes, freeing Jiang Luo's hands.

Guo Ronghai moved to cut the ropes on his ankles. Jiang Luo slowly sat up, while keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings.

Suddenly, Jiang Luo grabbed a nearby stool and swung it at Guo Ronghai's head. Guo Ronghai reacted quickly, raising an arm to block it. In that instant, Jiang Luo snatched the knife from Guo Ronghai's hand and lunged at him, stabbing him in the shoulder. Guo Ronghai screamed in pain. Jiang Luo, gripping the knife tightly, leaned into it with all his weight and snarled, "You bastard!"

Guo Ronghai's face instantly turned pale, covered in cold sweat. He nearly passed out from the pain.

Jiang Luo let go, leaving the knife embedded in Guo Ronghai's shoulder. He kept a wary eye on Guo Ronghai as he worked to untie the ropes around his ankles.

Once free, Jiang Luo stood up, his expression grim. He glanced around, picked up a long stool from the corner, and smashed it down on Guo Ronghai's legs.

Guo Ronghai let out two sharp cries and completely lost consciousness.

Jiang Luo didn't bother checking if Guo Ronghai was unconscious or dead. Without hesitation, he turned and headed for the door. He pulled it open and stepped outside, confirming they were indeed in the countryside. The small, dirt-walled house was surrounded by farmland.

It was already the dead of night, the moon hanging high in the sky, casting a faint light.

There were no lights, making it too dark to see any path. Jiang Luo picked a direction at random and started walking along the ridge between the fields.

His only thought now was survival: get away, fast.

If he could reach a place with people and houses, he could ask for help, make a phone call—to Huo Zongzhuo or Wang Chuang.

Shaken but determined, Jiang Luo walked quickly, stumbling through the fields.

He walked for what felt like a long time, still surrounded by fields, no houses, no people. He just kept walking.

As he walked, Jiang Luo gradually calmed down, his heartbeat returning to normal.

He told himself it would be fine; Guo Ronghai likely wouldn't be chasing after him, and a defeated dog like him probably didn't have any accomplices.

He just needed to keep walking forward; eventually, he would encounter people or see houses.

It was just too late now, too dark, which was why he couldn't see anything or meet anyone.

Jiang Luo felt unlucky, cold, and utterly unprepared for this turn of events.

Finally, after walking for a while, he spotted a dilapidated two-story building near the edge of the fields.

Jiang Luo hurried over and knocked on the door. As soon as he knocked, a dog inside the courtyard started barking furiously.

He knocked for a moment, and the dog barked the entire time. Soon, a light flicked on inside the house, followed by voices speaking in a local dialect.

A middle-aged man came out, pulling on a coat, holding a flashlight. He shone the light through the courtyard gate at Jiang Luo, looking puzzled, and asked in dialect who he was and whom he was looking for.

Jiang Luo couldn't understand the dialect. Assuming this was rural Northern Jiangsu, bordering Haicheng, he spoke in Mandarin: "Please, help me. I was kidnapped and just escaped. Do you have a phone? I need to call my family."

"Huh?"

The man rattled off a string of dialect. He didn't open the courtyard gate.

An older woman and a younger woman came out of the house. They also spoke in dialect, asking the man questions, and he replied in rapid dialect.

Jiang Luo, wearing only a long-sleeved white shirt, was cold and weak. He crouched down.

The gate opened. The man patted his shoulder and said in dialect, "We don't have a phone at home. I'll take you to borrow one."

"Hey, can you walk? Come with me."

Jiang Luo couldn't understand but guessed the man wanted him to leave. He stood up, nodded, and said, "Let's go, I'll follow you."

So the man walked quickly ahead with his flashlight, and Jiang Luo followed, struggling to keep up.

After walking for what felt like an eternity, Jiang Luo felt nearly frozen solid when they arrived at an equally run-down two-story house.

The man knocked on the door, a dog barked, the lights came on, and soon another man emerged from the house, also holding a flashlight and speaking in dialect. The two men exchanged words through the gate.

The gate opened, and the man led Jiang Luo inside, into the house, to a telephone sitting on a table. The man gestured, "You call."

Jiang Luo exhaled, walked over, picked up the receiver, and dialed.

"Beep—beep—beep—"

The ringing tone in his ear brought him a sense of relief.

The two men stood beside him, watching.

With a click, the call connected, and Huo Zongzhuo's voice came through: "Jiang Luo?"

Jiang Luo took another steadying breath, finally felt reassured, and said feebly, "It's me."

Huo Zongzhuo immediately raised his voice, "Where are you?"

Jiang Luo, completely drained, managed to say, "I don't know. Guo Ronghai had me taken to some countryside, I'm not sure where. I escaped and found some villagers to use their phone."

"They speak dialect, not Mandarin/Putonghua. I can't understand them."

Huo Zongzhuo's voice was tense, "Are you hurt? Is it serious?"

Jiang Luo replied weakly, "No, I'm okay."

Huo Zongzhuo sounded very anxious, "Why are you out of breath?"

Jiang Luo: "From all the walking. I'm exhausted. I don't have a jacket, it's too cold."

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Really."

Huo Zongzhuo finally calmed down and said, "Give the phone to one of the villagers. Let me talk to them."

Jiang Luo turned and gestured to one of the men. The man reached out, took the phone, and held it to his ear. After listening to whatever Huo Zongzhuo said, he replied in a flood of local dialect.

Soon, the man handed the phone back to Jiang Luo, who took it and said, "Hello?"

Huo Zongzhuo: "I know where you are now. I've spoken to them and asked them to let you stay with them for now, give you clothes and food. Stay there, don't go anywhere. Wait for me to pick you up. I'm on my way now, I'll be there soon."

Jiang Luo: "Okay."

Huo Zongzhuo asked again, "Will you be alright alone?"

Jiang Luo: "I'll be fine, don't worry."

After hanging up, Jiang Luo was left at the villager's house with the landline.

The villager kindly made a room available on the first floor for Jiang Luo, letting him sleep on the bed, and brought him some food, all still warm.

"Is there any water?"

Jiang Luo felt thirsty.

The villager went to get some, bringing a worn porcelain cup and filling it full with hot water for Jiang Luo.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jiang Luo held the cup with both hands, took a few sips, and felt the warmth spread from his throat to his limbs, finally feeling like himself again.

Gradually warming up, his aching legs and feet began to feel better, and he regained the energy to think.

He guessed that Guo Ronghai, backed into a corner and desperate, had resorted to such a drastic and underhanded approach.

Guo Ronghai probably didn't actually intend to kill him, but he certainly hated him.

As he had said, Guo Ronghai couldn't do anything to Li Fengrui, so he vented his anger on him.

Now, thinking back on Guo Ronghai, Jiang Luo wasn't sure if that stab had been fatal.

He wasn't a hardened criminal; he hadn't wanted Guo Ronghai's life.

But if Guo Ronghai died because of it...

Jiang Luo held the cup filled with hot water, his gaze lowered, his expression guarded—he had no intention of paying with his own life for Guo Ronghai's death.

He really hoped Guo Ronghai wasn't dead.

If he really was dead...

Jiang Luo thought coldly: Out here in the countryside, who could prove he did it?

"Are you surnamed Jiang? Jiang Luo?"

Suddenly, someone pushed the door open and spoke in Putonghua.

Jiang Luo turned his head and saw a middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man greeted him, "I'm the village party secretary."

"Hello."

Jiang Luo knew Huo Zongzhuo, concerned for his safety, must have contacted someone to look out for him and ensure his safety.

"Hello."

The man stood at the door and explained, "I received a call from my superiors asking me to come find you."

"Don't worry, it's safe here. Someone will come to pick you up soon."

"Are you tired? You can rest for a bit. If you're hungry, I can get you something to eat."

Jiang Luo regained his usual demeanor, "Okay, thank you, I appreciate it."

"No need, one of the men already brought me some food and hot water."

"May I ask, where is this place?"

The man gave the name of the town and village. Jiang Luo listened and recognized it as the countryside of northern Jiangsu.

"There's a bed, you can rest for a while, get some rest."

The man didn't ask where Jiang Luo had come from or ask a single question. He closed the door, leaving the room to Jiang Luo.

Jiang Luo naturally couldn't sleep. Leaning against the headboard, he thought quietly.

As he thought about it, Jiang Luo chuckled to himself—walking alone through the fields a moment ago, the scene felt strikingly similar to the day the factory burned down in his previous life.

The difference was, back then, Jiang Luo had been heartbroken and lost, unsure of where his path lay or if there was even a future ahead.

But just moments ago, Jiang Luo’s steps forward had been remarkably resolute.

Because he knew exactly where his path led and what direction his future held.

Thinking about the difference between his two lives, Jiang Luo smiled quietly to himself: in both lives, someone wanted him dead, yet his circumstances were entirely different.

In his previous life, the factory burned down, and he felt despair.

In this life, he had nearly lost his life, yet he knew exactly which way to go.

Jiang Luo continued laughing to himself; a sudden feeling of exhilaration swept over him—this was exactly what a second chance should be like.

The road lay beneath his feet; the direction was in his hands.

He feared nothing.

Jiang Luo laughed out loud, a hearty, unrestrained laugh.

This was the scene that greeted Huo Zongzhuo when he pushed the door open.

Huo Zongzhuo's heart clenched as he rushed to the bedside, checking Jiang Luo over for any sign of harm.

But Jiang Luo was still laughing, chuckling uncontrollably.

“Jiang Luo?”

Huo Zongzhuo looked tense, his hand gripping the young man’s arm firmly.

Jiang Luo laughed while looking at Huo Zongzhuo and said, “I’m really happy, truly.”

“It turns out that having direction and a firm goal can feel so liberating.”

Only then was Huo Zongzhuo convinced Jiang Luo was truly okay. He pulled him into a tight embrace.