Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Stepping out of the theater after his meeting with the director, Ji Qingyu glanced at his watch. Midnight had silently passed.

The winter night wind carried a chill, swirling a few withered yellow leaves across the ground before they vanished into the dim light. He instinctively pulled his coat tighter.

Fu Han’s car was still there, headlights glowing. Fu Han himself was slumped in the driver’s seat, head tilted, eyes closed—he had fallen asleep.

Ji Qingyu approached quietly. Closer now, he could clearly see the faint, smudged dark circles beneath Fu Han’s eyes, like diluted ink. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the shadows with a feather-light touch.

Fu Han’s eyelashes fluttered, and his eyes slowly opened.

Those usually cool eyes, softened by sleep, focused on Ji Qingyu’s face, instinctively curving into a gentle smile. The smile melted the sternness from Fu Han’s brow, replaced by an expression of complete reliance.

“Finished?” Fu Han’s voice was hoarse with sleep.

“Mm,” Ji Qingyu replied, his voice a little tight.

Fu Han stood up, naturally reaching out to pull Ji Qingyu into an embrace. His hug was fierce, as if he wanted to meld them into one.

He buried his face in the crook of Ji Qingyu’s neck, inhaling deeply, almost greedily, the scent of his pheromones—a damp, rain-like aroma that filled the car, uniquely Ji Qingyu’s.

Sensing the subtle agitation and unease in Fu Han’s emotions, Ji Qingyu didn’t resist. Instead, he released more of his own pheromones.

Inside the car, the radio softly played the late-night news. The anchor reported the latest: “…It is reported that assets under Fu Yunsheng’s name face complete seizure. Witnesses recently claimed to have seen him near Songshan Prison.”

“Reflecting on Fu Yunsheng’s ascent, he always seemed to fall short… Netizens have unearthed old photos showing Fu Yunsheng intimately kissing a man on the street. Comparison reveals the figure closely resembles the recently investigated former singer and actor, Ji Ran. Furthermore, some of Fu Yunsheng’s assets were previously transferred to Ji Ran, and the two jointly owned shell companies used to funnel illicit income. Speculation suggests their relationship may transcend mere transactional interests…”

Fu Han frowned slightly and reached out to switch off the radio. The car instantly fell silent, save for their soft breathing.

The car eventually came to a smooth stop outside Ji Qingyu’s apartment building.

Fu Han seemed reluctant to let go. After parking, he held Ji Qingyu’s hand, his fingertips caressing the other’s cool knuckles, his gaze fixed on Ji Qingyu’s face as if he could never get enough.

“Alright, it’s very late. You should go back and rest,” Ji Qingyu said, awkwardly averting his gaze and withdrawing his hand.

Fu Han looked at him, a faint flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. His fingers hooked around Ji Qingyu’s, giving them a gentle shake.

Ji Qingyu’s ears flushed even redder.

Fu Han was always adept at these little tricks.

Ji Qingyu pushed the door open, stepped out, waved, and turned into the narrow alley leading to his apartment. Fu Han watched Ji Qingyu’s retreating figure until it completely merged with the alley’s shadows before slowly looking away, wearily rubbing his temples.

Ji Qingyu walked alone through the alley. The old, poorly maintained streetlights barely illuminated the uneven cobblestones underfoot.

The surroundings were quiet. His thoughts were still absorbed in his conversation with the director, pondering the stage play’s plot, trying to shake off the inexplicable unease that had settled in his heart.

Fu Yunsheng had escaped—he’d heard the rumors. Though they’d only met briefly, he knew someone like Fu Yunsheng would never accept defeat.

His thoughts abruptly ceased.

Ahead, a tall figure unexpectedly blocked the alley. Ji Qingyu’s heart tightened, and he stopped short, instinctively turning around. Behind him, another burly man of similar build stood, sealing off his retreat.

Then, a figure he absolutely did not want to see at this moment appeared.

Fu Yunsheng.

Ji Qingyu’s heart plummeted. His body reacted faster than his mind—he silently slipped his hand into his pocket and, relying on muscle memory, quickly pressed the emergency call button on the side of his phone.

“What do you want?” Ji Qingyu forced himself to stay calm, his voice remarkably clear in the silent alley.

Fu Yunsheng curled his lips into a smile devoid of warmth, filled only with long-suppressed bitterness and madness. “Nothing much. Just a little chat.”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Ji Qingyu said, his eyes darting for any possible escape. The alley was too narrow, blocked on both ends—a dead end.

“That’s not for you to decide,” Fu Yunsheng sneered, his eyes reflecting a desperate, all-or-nothing resolve. “Take him.”

The two burly men immediately rushed forward, roughly grabbing Ji Qingyu’s arms from either side. Struggling was futile; the disparity in strength was too great. Ji Qingyu felt his phone vibrate faintly in his pocket—the emergency call had connected.

“Fu Yunsheng, you…” Ji Qingyu tried to speak, to buy time, but a black hood was abruptly pulled over his head, plunging his vision into darkness. He was shoved forcefully, stumbling into a car. The door slammed shut, cutting off the outside world.

“Don’t blame me,” Fu Yunsheng’s icy voice sounded beside his ear, dripping with bone-deep hatred. “Blame Fu Han for pushing too hard.”

The car started, jolting along the uneven road. Ji Qingyu forced himself to stay calm, analyzing the situation. “You kidnapped me to exchange for something with him?”

“Exchange?” Fu Yunsheng let out a laugh, as if he’d heard the biggest joke, his voice rising sharply before turning cold and venomous. “When he arrives, I’ll make him watch you die right before his eyes. I’ll make him experience what true agony feels like.”

“Why?” Ji Qingyu continued, his tone still calm. “You managed to escape. Why not disappear far away instead of coming back to walk right into a trap?”

“Walk into a trap?” Fu Yunsheng leaned in abruptly, yanking off Ji Qingyu’s hood and roughly grabbing his collar, choking him almost to the point of suffocation. “If it weren’t for you, our plan would’ve succeeded long ago! We would’ve gotten those documents! Fu Han and Fu Yunbai should’ve been sent to hell together! You ask why? You ruined everything!”

At such close range, Ji Qingyu could clearly see the bloodshot eyes and overflowing madness in Fu Yunsheng’s gaze.

“I thought,” Ji Qingyu said, his face pale from lack of oxygen but his voice strangely light and steady, “it was for Ji Ran.”

He clearly felt the hand gripping his collar tighten abruptly. “He was ruined because of you, retaliated against by Fu Han, did so many shady things for you… Aren’t you doing this to avenge him?”

“Shut up.” Ji Qingyu’s words struck a nerve, piercing Fu Yunsheng’s most sensitive and fragile point. Like an enraged beast, he slammed Ji Qingyu hard against the seatback, then followed with a heavy punch to his face.

Excruciating pain shot through him. Ji Qingyu’s vision went black, his ears ringing, and a metallic taste spread in his mouth. The back of his head also hit the hard seatback from the impact, causing dizziness. He tilted his head, breathing rapidly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Yet his eyes, fixed on Fu Yunsheng, remained clear and calm.

The car finally stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse. Ji Qingyu was dragged out roughly and shoved inside. The space was cluttered with junk, the air thick with the smell of rust and dust.

Fu Yunsheng didn’t seem in a hurry to act. Instead, he seemed to be performing some kind of ritual, waiting for the most important audience to arrive. He ordered Ji Qingyu tied to a chair, then paced restlessly, occasionally glancing toward the warehouse entrance.

Time ticked by, each second feeling like torture to the nerves.

After who knows how long—perhaps not long at all, but under such extreme pressure, the sense of time blurred—the sound of an engine finally came from outside the warehouse, followed by hurried, determined footsteps growing closer.

*Clang!*

The rusted iron door was pushed open with force from the outside. Blinding light poured in—likely from headlights—and Fu Han appeared alone in the doorway.

His eyes instantly locked onto Ji Qingyu tied to the chair, especially noting the blood at his mouth and the swelling. His gaze turned icy cold.

“How did you get here so fast?” Fu Yunsheng was startled by his speed, then realized something and whirled around to glare at Ji Qingyu. “Was it you?”

“You dare hit him?” Fu Han’s voice was filled with intense anger. The pressure he exuded was almost tangible, and for a moment, even the burly men Fu Yunsheng had brought hesitated to approach.

Fu Yunsheng felt a chill under Fu Han’s gaze, but there was no turning back now. As if to bolster his courage, he suddenly grabbed Ji Qingyu’s hair, forcing him to face Fu Han, while his other hand pulled out a gleaming switchblade. With a *snap*, the blade sprang out and pressed tightly against Ji Qingyu’s neck.

The cold blade touched his skin, easily breaking the surface. Blood beads instantly welled up, stark against Ji Qingyu’s pale skin.

Fu Han froze as if struck by a spell. All movement ceased. He stared fixedly at that trace of blood, his pupils contracting, his clenched fists turning white at the knuckles, veins bulging. He didn’t dare move an inch.

In the dead silence of this critical moment, Ji Qingyu looked at Fu Han and blinked twice rapidly—an extremely subtle signal.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Ji Qingyu suddenly threw his head back, smashing the back of his skull into Fu Yunsheng’s nose bridge. Immediately after, he drove his elbow with all his strength into Fu Yunsheng’s knife-wielding arm.

Fu Yunsheng was caught off guard, a sharp pain shooting through the bridge of his nose, and the arm holding the knife was jolted sideways. He never expected Ji Qingyu to be the first to move.

With a clatter, the knife slipped from his grasp and fell onto the concrete floor.

Fu Han shoved aside the men trying to rush forward and stop him, charging at Fu Yunsheng in a few swift steps. He landed a heavy punch squarely on Fu Yunsheng's face, who let out a pained cry and stumbled backward.

Without even a glance at him, Fu Han grabbed Ji Qingyu's wrist—now freed from the ropes—and turned to bolt for the warehouse entrance.

"Grab them! Don't let them escape!" Fu Yunsheng clutched his face, his voice muffled and furious as he roared.

His subordinates snapped out of their daze, grabbing nearby clubs and charging forward. Ji Qingyu felt a stinging pain on his cheek—it seemed he had been grazed by the blade during the struggle. But he ignored it, running desperately alongside Fu Han toward the exit.

He heard a rush of air behind him as a thug wielding a baseball bat closed in, swinging the club straight at the back of Ji Qingyu's head.

"Watch out." Without a second thought, Fu Han yanked Ji Qingyu against his chest, using his own broad back to take the full force of the blow.

A dull thud echoed as Fu Han's body shuddered violently. He let out a suppressed grunt, his face instantly paling.

"Fu Han!" Ji Qingyu cried out, his heart nearly stopping.

"I'm fine!" Fu Han gritted his teeth, cold sweat beading on his temples. Struggling to stay upright, he turned and kicked the thug flying, then pulled Ji Qingyu along as he continued running. "Hurry!"

The two burst out of the warehouse, where Fu Han's car was parked outside. They quickly yanked the doors open and jumped in. Fu Han, ignoring the searing pain in his back, started the engine, and the car shot forward like an arrow.

However, Fu Yunsheng had clearly prepared thoroughly. The area outside the warehouse was not empty—several dilapidated vans started up simultaneously, closing in from different directions, clearly intent on trapping them.

Fu Han's expression was icy as he gripped the steering wheel, weaving left and right through the narrow, run-down factory roads in an attempt to shake off the pursuers. But there were too many vehicles, and they stayed stubbornly on their tail.

"He's insane…" Ji Qingyu's voice tightened as he watched the headlights growing closer in the rearview mirror.

Fu Yunsheng truly had lost his mind. The vehicle behind accelerated recklessly, slamming hard into the car's side and rear—clearly aiming for mutual destruction.

At this critical moment, Fu Han didn't hesitate. He sharply turned the steering wheel while shouting to Ji Qingyu, "Hold on tight!"

The tires screeched against the ground. In the blink of an eye, Fu Han forcefully swung the car sideways, positioning the driver's side door—where he sat—directly toward the front of the oncoming van in what seemed like a suicidal move.

"Fu Han!" Ji Qingyu tried to stop him, but it was too late. Everything happened in an instant.

A massive crash echoed. Ji Qingyu's vision blurred, darkness swallowing him. In his final moments of consciousness, he heard sirens and the metallic scent of blood.

He could feel nothing more, only instinctively reaching out a hand to grasp Fu Han's beside him.