Chapter 133

“You’ve been by my side all this time, just waiting for this day, haven’t you?”

The handgun slid from He Lilin’s head back to her waist.

Duo Lin had deliberately chosen a loose-sleeved top, the lotus-leaf edges draping perfectly to conceal everything. From the side, anyone glancing their way would simply assume the two women were close, one affectionately holding the other’s arm.

Lan Zhijing’s body went rigid. Steel yourself, she thought, and headed for the inn’s door. Along the way, she encountered the waiting driver and desperately signaled him with her eyes. But he caught sight of her, then noticed the young miss behind her, and promptly ducked his head in a show of guilty submission.

Lan Zhijing knew she couldn’t count on him. She had no choice but to keep walking toward the exit. As she glanced at the door, she devised a plan: just before stepping out, she would use the doorframe to shield her arm, fish the phone from her pocket, and call the police.

In the inn’s first-floor lobby, the owner sat behind the counter while two guests chatted over drinks on the sofa nearby. A few more patrons came and went on the stairs, none paying any mind to the three women descending one after the other.

Everything seemed normal, but Duo Lin’s heart pounded wildly. Lan Zhijing’s sudden appearance had thrown their plan into disarray. She could only pray they escaped smoothly, allowing the operation to resume on track.

“Don’t look back. Keep walking toward the front door. Once we’re outside, then we talk.”

Lan Zhijing kept twisting her head to check behind them, but Duo Lin stopped her each time. Resigned, she pressed on toward the door, bracing herself to halt at any moment.

After descending the stairs, Duo Lin’s eyes darted around. She gripped He Lilin’s arm tightly and backed toward the rear exit. “No noise. You follow me, or else!”

A short corridor stretched between the lobby and the back door.

Duo Lin pulled He Lilin along, moving swiftly and quietly. She half-expected the girl to cry out and alert Lan Zhijing, but oddly, He Lilin stayed silent. She yielded to the pressure of the gun barrel against her back, cooperating as they slipped through the back door without a sound.

Outside, just a few meters away, a black sedan idled. Duo Lin quickly scanned the license plate—it matched.

Bao Luo hopped out of the front passenger seat and opened the rear door. Duo Lin held her breath and shoved He Lilin inside the next instant.

That finally provoked a reaction. He Lilin shouted indignantly, “What are you doing? Kidnapping me?”

Up ahead, Lan Zhijing reached the front door. She turned, only to find no one behind her. She rushed back inside, zeroing in on the sound of He Lilin’s voice to pinpoint the direction.

Duo Lin pressed the gun to He Lilin’s head and forced her deeper into the car, but the girl stubbornly resisted, neck rigid, refusing to bend and climb in. The gun had lost its terrorizing power; even a cannon wouldn’t make her budge!

“Help me hold her!”

Bao Luo rushed forward, one hand clamping down on He Lilin’s head, the other pinning her arm. He manhandled her into the back seat. Duo Lin squeezed in right after, slamming the door shut.

At that exact moment, Lan Zhijing burst out the back door and pounded on the car window. “Miss! Miss!”

“Duo Lin… if you dare take the miss away, we’ll hunt you down even if it kills us!”

“Drive!” Duo Lin’s command drowned out the furious cries from outside.

The engine had been idling the whole time. The car lurched forward a second later, but Lan Zhijing wouldn’t relent. She chased after it, her screams piercing the night. “Miss! Chen Sheng, get down here quick—the miss is being kidnapped!”

Lan Zhijing usually comported herself with perfect poise, able to stand motionless for two hours straight. But now she unleashed a burst of astonishing energy, sprinting ahead several meters and throwing her arms wide to block the car’s path.

The driver’s eyes flickered—Lin Tuoya’s foot slammed on the brake.

“Ignore her! Run her down if you have to. We have to make it on time—” Duo Lin glared at Lan Zhijing, her gaze boring straight through her as if fixed on some distant point beyond.

The car swerved, clipping Lan Zhijing and sending her flying.

Chen Sheng, the He family driver, finally arrived on the scene and ran to her side.

Lan Zhijing lay sprawled on the ground, blood streaking her face. As he helped her up, she clutched his arm. “Never mind me—chase after them! Hurry!”

Chen Sheng leaped into his car and sped off in the direction the kidnappers’ vehicle had vanished.

It was festival night, the streets alive with revelry everywhere. Yet the commotion behind the inn still drew a crowd.

From inside, curious guests peered out the back door. Seeing no sign of the “kidnappers,” they ventured out.

With bystanders gathering, Lan Zhijing took charge.

“Call the police! Someone kidnapped her—she headed east on Peachwood Street!”

Onlookers crowded around, pulling out phones to report the crime and summon an ambulance.

In the kidnappers’ car, Duo Lin glanced back until Lan Zhijing’s relentless figure faded from view. Only then did she exhale in relief, loosening her grip on He Lilin’s hand.

But the moment she did, an explosion of laughter erupted inside the vehicle, jangling her nerves anew.

“Hahahaha—hahahahaha!”

He Lilin threw her head back in mirth, utterly ignoring the gun inches from her skull. She lurched away from the barrel several times.

Duo Lin clamped down on her, her face twisting in fury. She seethed with frustration at being unable to fire in the cramped space.

“What are you laughing at? They can’t hear us anymore. They have no idea where we are!”

“Hahaha…” He Lilin’s laughter tapered off into ragged breaths. “Hahaha…”

Finally, she leaned back against the seat like she was riding in her own family car and turned to Duo Lin. Her eyes shimmered—perhaps from laughing too hard.

“I knew it. You were so good to me before, so thoughtful, insisting you’d stay by my side forever. It was all for this day!”

…

Ji Tingxi kept vigil in her office, checking the patrol schedule for the second time, verifying every detail. The room was deathly quiet—so quiet she began to think the night would pass uneventfully.

But when the phone on her desk rang, her eyelid twitched, and her fingers trembled against the page.

“Hello, Dean He…”

“Chief Ji, get to my office now!”

When Bai Zhuo had left, he’d taken three operatives with him. Ji Tingxi gathered the remaining thirteen, filling three cars to capacity, and set off for the North Suburbs.

Settling into the front passenger seat, she glanced up. The lights of the Guard Institute building flickered in the darkness, like frantic footsteps keeping time with her pulse.

“Per Dean He’s intel, the suspects kidnapped the hostage and fled west on Peachwood Street, turning onto Red Pine Street. They’re likely headed for the North Suburbs.”

“But the North Suburbs are vast and sparsely populated. How do we pinpoint them once we’re there?”

“We head out first. Dean He will relay specifics as they come in.”

“Understood.”

As the convoy rolled out, Ji Tingxi pulled out her phone and messaged the Joyful Intent’s customer service: “Emergency came up—order delayed.”

—Phase one compromised. Kidnapping exposed. Initiate Plan B.

At the same moment, the message popped up on Yin Chen’s computer screen.

That night, while Ji Tingxi held down the fort in her office, Yin Chen did the same from her apartment, monitoring the work account. Also that night, through the same channels, she mobilized Libo and Giel networks across North County, sending them scurrying through the city to execute a bold gambit.

“Got it. Let us know the confirmed time.”

Yin Chen minimized the chat window and dove into the backend, taking the signature pastry offline. The once-vibrant display turned gray.

Her pupils mirrored that dullness, the highlight in her eyes dimming sharply by contrast.

Almost simultaneously, Yuan Ersong on the upper floor received his assistant’s alert. He issued orders over the comms channel: heads up, mission live—stand by for instructions and proceed as planned.

The route from the Guard Institute to the North Suburbs cut through a long stretch of urban sprawl.

Ji Tingxi coordinated with traffic police for a path clear of festival parades and thin on crowds.

But at the Changning Street intersection, the lead driver’s expression froze. His foot eased off the accelerator. “Chief Ji, another parade blocking the way?”

Ji Tingxi’s face tightened. She dialed immediately. “Hello? Didn’t you clear the route? Why is there a parade?”

The voice on the line sounded even more flustered. “Sorry, Chief. They appeared out of nowhere. We’re dispersing them now.”

Ji Tingxi ordered a halt. The three cars pulled up neatly at the intersection, waiting for the road to clear.

…

Inside a car repair shed in the North Suburbs, the Bogota Company’s truck arrived at the rendezvous. But a scan of the surroundings revealed no sign of the connecting vehicle.

Aken’s gut twisted with anxiety. He kept refreshing his messages, checking for updates.

Finally, in the rearview mirror, the black sedan appeared, pulling up behind the truck’s cargo bay. Confirming the area secure, the two men in front climbed out.

“What happened? Trouble?”

Bao Luo and Lin Tuoya helped Duo Lin haul He Lilin from the car.

Her mouth was now taped shut, hands bound, eyes blindfolded. Duo Lin had stopped just short of plugging her nostrils too.

“On the way here, her family spotted us. Their driver gave chase for a bit. We shook him, but they’ve definitely called the cops by now. We need to move fast and get across the border!”

Aken swung open the cargo doors. Duo Lin and Lin Tuoya each grabbed an arm, dragging He Lilin aboard.

Duo Lin hesitated. “The car’s compromised too. Come with us—it’s not safe here!”

Bao Luo shook his head. “No, I have to ditch the vehicle. It’ll give away our escape route. Go!”

Aken checked the time—they couldn’t delay. He ushered Duo Lin and He Lilin into a crate of electronics, then locked the cargo doors and set off on the crucial next leg.

The outskirts blended woodland with open meadows, rolling hills, and endless grasslands.

Nightfall draped the vast landscape in a hazy veil, letting the truck weave through unseen, heading for Stone Cliff Border Station—the frontier between Bailunting and Kangman.

In the Guard Institute, He De abandoned his usual upright posture. He paced anxiously to the window, staring toward the gates as if he could will them open and see the operatives escorting He Lilin straight to his office.

“Dean He, report.” An Erdong saluted.

“Out with it!” He De stormed back to his desk, slamming down his water glass.

“The driver, Chen Sheng, lost the suspects’ vehicle. It’s vanished from surveillance at major intersections. Our team and the police couldn’t keep up due to roadblocks. Target location… unknown.”

He De’s glare could kill. “What did you say!?”

“But… based on its last sighting, we can narrow the direction.”

He De drew a deep breath. “Where exactly did the vehicle disappear?”

“Near the Fruit Industry Bridge underpass in the North Suburbs. No cameras on the north road past the bridge, and it hasn’t shown up since. Likely headed north or east—surveillance is pulling footage from those routes.”

“Fruit Industry Bridge? Pull up the map of nearby roads.”

He De finally sat, leaning in close to scrutinize the screen, decorum be damned.

Beyond the bridge lay the North Suburbs’ wilds, dotted with backroads and hamlets.

The Sern Organization and Wen Du incidents remained under wraps, so An Erdong’s instincts pointed to nearby hideouts.

But He De knew of the Sern Organization’s smuggling ops, and with Duo Lin being Sern, his eyes locked on the wilds’ edge—Stone Cliff Border Station.

“Alert Stone Cliff Border Station: go to high alert, seal the crossing until our people arrive!”

An Erdong had felt a chill down his neck since entering. His rank weighed heavy on his shoulders. But this order sent ice straight to his heart. He forced calm. “Dean He, sealing the border—shouldn’t we clear it with North County Station?”

“No time.”

“It’s urgent, sure, but this is huge…”

Too huge for their level, especially with borders easing open. If accountability came knocking later, it wouldn’t be pretty.

He De rubbed his brow, wrestling for composure. Every ticking second stabbed at him, so he had to maximize them. “Fine. Tell Te Rui to notify the station: ramp up inspections, manual checks on every vehicle. I’ll handle North County Station.”

Aken had driven this truck from the Bogota factory countless times—through quiet villages and fields, a nod to border guards, then smooth passage at the station.

He’d smuggled equipment for the factory and Sern people out of North County this way. Now he approached as usual, delivering the first Homer person across.

“Please step out for inspection.”

Aken propped his arm on the doorframe, doffing his hat with a flourish. “Evening, Commander!”

“I know you, Mr. Aken, but step out anyway.”

Aken rummaged in his pockets, then the glovebox.

“Step out now,” the border officer raised his gun. “Hands up!”

“Hey, easy. I’m just getting the entry-exit permit—it’s good for bypass.”

“I know, but tonight’s different. Every vehicle gets checked.”

Aken flashed a friendly grin. “Something going on? I get it, happy to help. But this load has a midnight deadline—it’s the job. Our Kangman company’s vehicles get waivers via North County Station approval. Surely the checks target local rigs, right?”

The officer hesitated, silent.

“Want to double-check?”

“No need.” The officer’s brow furrowed. “Orders are clear: every vehicle. Get out and open the cargo door, or we force it.”

“Fine, fine…” Aken cursed inwardly, feigning resignation. “Officer, mind if I grab the customs manifest? For verification.”

Two minutes later, Aken stepped down, hands raised, papers in one fist. The officer softened at his compliance. “That’s enough. Just stand there.”

Aken relaxed into his old nonchalance. He fished out the keys with one hand, patted the cargo door with the other. “Don’t worry, I watched them load it—it’s all good.”

Inside, Duo Lin heard the signal in his slaps. She clamped her hand over her mouth and nose, stifling her breath. She twisted He Lilin’s face for another check—she’d dosed her with sleeping pills before loading; the girl slumbered soundly now.

The doors swung open. Two officers swept flashlights across the cargo: crates of electronics packed tight, leaving a narrow aisle.

One officer stood guard at the entrance while the captain grabbed a flashlight, hopped in, and advanced.

Outside breezes and distant tires faded; inside, each footfall amplified, echoing in their ears.

The captain found the cargo unnaturally still, like a freshly cracked tin of ham.

He swept his beam from end to end. Aken trailed with the manifest, all solicitous. “Commander, see? Labels match the list—check ’em off.”

The captain thumped nearby crates—dull thuds, heavy contents. “Unload and inspect them one by one.”

“What?” Aken gaped. “Commander, even with forklifts, loading took half an hour. Unload, check, reload? We’d be here till dawn!”

The beam hit Aken’s face. “Feeling guilty?”

“No!” Aken widened his eyes earnestly. “I’m on a clock! And you’re swamped too—I see X-ray over there. Unloading everything? You’d need every officer, slowing you down!”

The captain pondered. Valid point: they had loaders and manpower, but the hassle could distract from real threats.

“Alright. Open each crate for a look. Clear, and you’re through.”

“But Officer, they’re sealed…”

“Do it. Now.”

“Sigh, okay. If they reject faulty goods later, back me up—or get your boss…”

Aken grumbled on, taking the utility knife. He sliced the outermost seal meticulously, then taped it back.

“Faster. Open them all—no need for perfection. Just enough to see inside. Seal after.”

“Sure, but no lights in here—you might miss something. Fine, slits along the edge…”

Duo Lin huddled in a middle crate. She heard every word—Aken’s chatter was for her benefit. Trapped in that coffin-tight space, she could only stay silent, breaths feather-light.

Yet her heart hammered like a drum, vibrations shuddering through her body, threatening to rattle the crate.

Sun God, protect us…

Duo Lin gripped her gun, eyes squeezed shut in prayer.

In three years confined to the He house, she’d forsaken the gods—they hadn’t saved the Sern people. But now, abilities shackled, prayer was all she had: for safe passage, safe crossing, mission success.

Her prayers rang clear, but night hid them. The Sun God’s eyes lay veiled in clouds, blind to the gloom below, deaf to whispers in the dark.

Duo Lin’s pulse skipped. Above, the knife rasped through cardboard—shh, shh, shh—the slit widening. Blinding flashlight beams pierced like needles.