Chapter 23

Ruan Zhen silently stared at the other man.

At a time like this, he hadn’t even bothered to untie the ropes on his wrist, and was still acting all high and mighty?

To Ruan Zhen’s surprise, Song Shuling actually bent down to pick up the lighter from the ground. Ruan Zhen couldn’t help but shout.

“Untie me first… we can smoke later!”

It was really frustrating to deal with someone who was so preoccupied with smoking when the situation was so dire. Such a lack of manners!

Song Shuling’s laugh was tinged with a cough as he straightened up and gestured to the driver, who was still in a daze. “The knife.”

In the darkness, the driver and the bodyguards exchanged glances, their faces showing a hint of difficulty. “Third Lord…”

They were Song Chunfeng’s men.

The current situation was too delicate. As the driver handed over the knife, he subtly gave a signal, which the bodyguard understood, nodding slightly. The bodyguard’s right hand rested on his left wrist, where a watch capable of sending messages was hidden.

They were only a few hundred meters from the villa, surrounded by the Song family’s private garden. The moonlight bathed the ground in a milky glow, and the only sounds were the long and short chirps of insects.

Song Shuling raised an eyebrow.

Interesting.

Ruan Zhen had already stumbled out of the car, hopping over to Song Shuling.

“The ropes are too tight!”

He turned his back and struggled. “Damn things, they’re all knotted up!”

“Don’t move.”

In the faint trembling, the cold blade grazed his fingers. Whether it was Ruan Zhen’s imagination or not, Song Shuling’s voice had a slight hoarseness, as if it had been lightly touched by fire, creating a raspy, magnetic sound in his ear.

His heart skipped a beat, and he didn’t dare move again.

It was strange, but ever since he saw Song Shuling, the heavy weight on Ruan Zhen’s mind had suddenly lifted. While the ropes were being cut, he took the opportunity to ponder why he felt such an inexplicable—

sense of trust.

Was it because, in the story, there were no records of Song Shuling being a ruthless, tyrannical person?

No.

The moment of reflection was brief. The feeling of constraint on his wrists vanished, and Ruan Zhen flexed his stiff arms, looking down.

Good grief, these people hadn’t gone easy on him. There were clear, deep purple and red marks on his wrists, the indentations were quite deep.

He cursed and raised his wrists. “Look!”

Song Shuling really did look down, then up at Ruan Zhen’s face. “Does it hurt?”

“It hurts,”

Ruan Zhen rubbed his wrists. “I feel like if they had tied me up any longer, I would have lost my hands.”

But as he rubbed, the marks became even more noticeable, especially on the inside of his pale wrists.

A thought suddenly came to mind.

His instinctive trust in Song Shuling seemed to stem from that day in the bathroom, when he saw Song Shuling’s face turn red.

Perhaps subconsciously, he felt that a man who could blush from embarrassment couldn’t be a bad person.

“Move around more over the next couple of days,” Song Shuling’s gaze subtly shifted away as he picked up the lighter. “Let’s go. We agreed to educate the child tonight.”

He had noticed the driver and bodyguard’s subtle actions but didn’t pay them much attention. Instead, he gestured to Ruan Zhen with a polite nod.

Under the moonlight, even though his clothes weren’t as presentable, he still managed to exude a gentlemanly demeanor.

Ruan Zhen changed the subject. “Does Third Lord have a smoking habit?”

“No,”

Song Shuling walked beside him. “I occasionally smoke one to stay alert.”

The earlier tension had completely dissipated, and the two of them walked toward the villa, chatting as if they were two elders going to discipline a mischievous child.

“Smoking doesn’t smell good, and it’s not a good look.”

Song Shuling paused, glancing sideways. “Really? I thought smoking men had a certain charm.”

Ruan Zhen countered, “Do you have to smoke to have charm? A handsome man can even have charm while chopping a duck with a cleaver.”

“Chopping a duck…?”

“Isn’t that true?”

Ruan Zhen laughed. “It’s not about what you do, but who does it.”

A person with a bad heart, no matter how well-dressed and presentable, is rotten to the core and beyond redemption.

He wanted to see how Song Shuling planned to deal with his good nephew tonight.

In just a few days, he had surely seen the deep-rooted corruption.

The distance wasn’t far, and it didn’t take long to reach the villa. It might not have been enough time for Song Shuling to finish a cigarette, so he quietly put the lighter away. “Once we go in, don’t get too close. Just watch.”

“What happened?”

Ruan Zhen was shocked as he looked at the villa. There was a clear sign of smoke damage on one of the second-floor windows, with large patches of black and burnt roses, which looked particularly eerie in the moonlight, as well as—

blood on the steps and several people lying in various positions, clutching their stomachs and moaning softly, clearly injured.

Song Shuling acted as if he hadn’t seen anything, leading the way. “Scared?”

Ruan Zhen shook his head.

The front door was open, and as they entered, the acrid smell of smoke was evident. The fire had been extinguished not long ago, and the terrifying traces hadn’t disappeared, lingering in the air and masking the faint scent of blood.

Song Chunfeng sat on the sofa, his eyes bloodshot and his face swollen.

A thin figure turned to face them, having been facing away.

Ruan Zhen was taken aback.

The face looked somewhat familiar, almost like his own.

But the voice was completely different, hoarse and rough.

“Sir,” Xie Qiu’s voice was raspy. “I’m really sorry.”

Song Shuling nodded calmly. “It’s fine.”

As if he had expected it.

He explained succinctly, “There was a fire in the room, and Chunfeng locked him inside, almost killing him.”

Song Chunfeng remained motionless, his lips tightly pressed together, his chin trembling.

“The bodyguards have already said that Chunfeng planned to switch places, claiming that the person inside the room—”

Song Shuling paused, looking at Ruan Zhen. “Was you.”

Ruan Zhen: “…”

He regretted calling him a dog.

This was worse than an animal.

“The hospital has been called, and they’ll be here soon,” Song Shuling continued. “Xie Qiu doesn’t want to report it to the police, and I understand, so I’ll make the call. Do you want to join me?”

Kidnapping, illegal detention, forgery of documents.

“Yes,” Ruan Zhen agreed without hesitation, unable to bear looking at the blood on Xie Qiu’s wrists. “Let’s handle it by the book.”

As he spoke, a soft sob was heard.

Xie Qiu raised his arm and wiped his eyes forcefully. “I’m really sorry, not because I don’t want to stand up… Thank you, Third Lord, for saving my life, but…”

He choked up. “Yes, I only wanted money!”

The moment the door was closed, his mind went blank, and his survival instinct kicked in, driving him to struggle fiercely. He managed to pull his hands out of the handcuffs, leaving them bloody and raw.

He crawled to the window, already inhaling smoke, his life hanging by a thread.

He never thought anyone would save him.

When he was carried out and rolled down the lawn from the second floor, Xie Qiu’s consciousness was hazy, and he gazed at the stars.

So beautiful.

He thought he was going to die.

But he was given a new lease on life.

When Xie Qiu was trapped, he had thought about how he would confront Song Chunfeng, how he would lash out and bite, but standing there, he felt a sense of fear.

“Third Uncle.”

Song Chunfeng spoke coldly. “Was it necessary to make such a big deal out of this?”

He slumped on the sofa, exhaling deeply. “Xie Qiu is willing to come home and sleep with me, and he’s willing to testify that the fire was an accident, so… is this really such a big deal? As for Step Mother, I was just eager to invite her back for dinner, and my men got a bit rough. So what?”

The large living room fell silent.

Song Chunfeng pressed his advantage. “I’ll compensate Xie Qiu, and I promise not to harass Step Mother anymore. Third Uncle, you can rest assured, we will behave ourselves from now on…”

“I can’t take it anymore,”

Ruan Zhen turned sharply. “Did you call the police? If not, I will.”

The evidence was right there!

The marks on his wrists hadn’t faded and still hurt!

Song Shuling nodded. “I already did.”

“Really?”

Song Chunfeng clenched his teeth, standing up in disbelief. “I’m your own nephew!”

“Your own nephew?”

Song Shuling turned, leaning against the edge of the table. “Does that give you the right to have your men attack me?”

With those words, Ruan Zhen understood everything.

He knew how the scars on Song Shuling’s arm had come about.

Song Chunfeng had planned to switch places, loudly proclaiming his own death to achieve some sinister goal, which Song Shuling had caught in the act. Instead of repenting, he had gone even further.

He also understood where the blood on the steps had come from.

Song Chunfeng’s lips trembled. “You’ve never liked me, from childhood to now, no matter how hard I tried, I could never…”

“Are you hungry?”

Song Shuling seemed to ignore him, turning to Ruan Zhen. “Even though the henchmen have confessed, it might take some time to write up the statements. If you haven’t eaten, you should get something to eat.”

With those words, Ruan Zhen realized he was indeed hungry.

“Now that you mention it, I could go for something warm.”

“Go to the kitchen,” Song Shuling said casually. “The police will be here in a few minutes.”

Song Chunfeng: “…”

He unconsciously clenched his fists and roared, “Are you listening to me!”

“Do you want something to eat too?”

Ruan Zhen walked over to Xie Qiu. “One downside of living in a rich person’s house is that it’s in the suburbs for the greenery and quiet, which makes it far from the hospital.”

Xie Qiu didn’t know what to say.

He wanted to leave, take some money, and not get involved. Third Lord had already let him go, but upon hearing some news, he had silently run out and returned with a young, unfamiliar man.

Being alive was a stroke of luck; he didn’t dare hope for more.

Ruan Zhen gently tugged at Xie Qiu’s arm. “Come on, I’ll help you with your injuries.”

Xie Qiu slowly lifted his head, blinking a couple of times.

In that instant, his pupils dilated, and he screamed in terror. “Watch out!”

His hands were shaking, but the sound of the gun being cocked was clear. Song Chunfeng held the gun with both hands. “I’m not going to jail! I won’t!”

The black barrel was pointed at Song Shuling.

“Uncle, I know you have a way out. I don’t want to go, you can’t call the police!”

He couldn’t go to jail, absolutely not. Third Uncle must be bluffing.

He had a gun!

He had worked hard to get it, originally for his collection, but it had come in handy today. Song Chunfeng’s ears were ringing, and he screamed wildly. “You’re all forcing me… let’s talk, let’s talk it out!”

But Song Shuling didn’t waste time on idle talk. He charged forward without hesitation.

In the next moment, Song Chunfeng was yanked by the arm, his elbow twisted behind his back, and he was pinned to the sofa, disoriented. The only thing he realized was that Song Shuling was trying to take the gun from him.

“Bang!”

The birds in the forest were startled and disappeared into the night.

The faint smell of gunpowder filled the air. Xie Qiu’s legs turned to jelly, and he opened his eyes in terror to find that Ruan Zhen had pushed him behind a table.

And in the next moment, Ruan Zhen had rushed forward, leaving only two short words.

“Get down.”

Xie Qiu scrambled under the table, hugging his head, watching as Ruan Zhen lifted a chair and smashed it into Song Chunfeng’s back.

At the same time, several large bodyguards rushed in, joining the fray.

Xie Qiu trembled.

So terrifying!

The dull thuds and screams of pain mingled together. He didn’t dare look, sobbing and curling up, his heart filled with pain and struggle.

It was the unfamiliar “Third Uncle” who had saved him and understood his reluctance to report the incident, but…

He was just an ordinary person.

Perhaps a long time had passed, or perhaps it was just a moment. Through his tear-filled eyes, Xie Qiu saw a black object spin and slide to a stop in front of him.

“Give it to me!”

Song Chunfeng’s desperate voice echoed. “Give me the gun!”

He was struggling with Song Shuling, and even with the bodyguards’ help, he wasn’t gaining any advantage. The gun had slipped from his hand and landed near Xie Qiu.

This was Xie Qiu!

Obedient, well-behaved, Xie Qiu, who could be bought off with a little money!

Song Chunfeng was pinned to the ground, his arm stretched out toward the table. “Quick, quick, give it to me… or shoot him!”

He could feel that Song Shuling, while pressing his back with his knee, was also engaged in a struggle with the others, giving him a good opportunity.

There was still time, everything was still possible.

If Third Uncle died, he could pin all the blame on Ruan Zhen.

Everyone was there, it would be a lively scene!

Song Chunfeng’s eyes were bloodshot. “Quick! I’ll give you money, whatever you want!”

Ruan Zhen’s pupils contracted—

Xie Qiu trembled, lifting the gun butt high, his wrists still stained with dried blood.

He swung it down hard on Song Chunfeng’s head.

The room fell silent, and the sound of sirens finally arrived.

Song Shuling reacted the fastest. He punched the dazed bodyguard in the face, quickly stepped forward, and took the gun from Xie Qiu.

Xie Qiu’s legs gave out, and he fell to his knees.

The bodyguard, who had been fighting with Ruan Zhen, silently let go, stepping back several paces and crouching down, hands on his head.

Quite practiced.

“Is it the police?”

Ruan Zhen panted, wiping his mouth. He had been hit and had a cut on his lip.

“It’s the ambulance,”

Song Shuling sat on the sofa, exhaling deeply, the air tinged with the smell of blood. “I only called the hospital, and the timing was just right.”

He looked at the mess around them. “Now, it’s time to call the police.”

Ruan Zhen opened his mouth, unsure what to say, and silently sat down next to Song Shuling.

Song Shuling had just hung up the call to the police, seeming a bit surprised, narrowing his eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

Ruan Zhen furrowed his brow. “That gunshot…”

“No.”

Song Shuling raised his hands decisively. “Don’t worry, it didn’t hit anywhere.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

He even managed to joke. “Don’t believe me? Check.”

Those words made Ruan Zhen finally relax. “Alright, I’ll check.”

It was just a casual exchange.

Are you hurt? No. Don’t believe me? Check.

But in the context of their relationship and the lingering scent of gunpowder and blood, it felt awkward.

Even Song Shuling turned away, chuckling softly.

Ruan Zhen realized his mistake.

“It’s fine,”

Song Shuling didn’t mock him, immediately offering a way out. “If you check, you might find a lighter on me.”

Ruan Zhen paused. “Do you still want to smoke?”

Song Shuling didn’t answer. He just extended his bloodied hand, took out a cigarette, and bit it between his lips.

Whether he was really hurt or not, his movements were slow and clumsy.

Then he looked up at Ruan Zhen.

The moment of thought was brief.

The sound of gears grinding, a pale blue flame shot up high.

As Ruan Zhen leaned in, Song Shuling lowered his head.

Ruan Zhen personally lit the cigarette for him.

Amid the smell of gunpowder and blood, the two of them drew closer, silently, without saying a word.

And then they quickly separated.