Chapter 22: The Sudden Emergence of a Killing Intent

In a small shop corner where fireworks rose and the atmosphere gradually warmed, outside the window, cloaked in the heavy shadows of night, a pair of sinister eyes locked onto Yang Rui and Su Jin like a venomous snake. The man crouched in the dark corner of an abandoned newsstand across the alley, the dim glow of his phone screen illuminating a message he had already composed:

“Boss Bai, the target’s found. At ‘Old Stove’ Hotpot. With a woman. Shall we make a move?”

The neon pollution was filtered through the winding alleys of the old city, leaving only mottled, distorted shadows that painted eerie patterns on the damp cobblestone street. Deep within the alley, the hotpot restaurant named “Old Stove” blazed like a searing iron, its raucous noise and thick aromas piercing through the glass doors, glaring intensely in the stillness of the night.

The scar-faced man—A Bao—pressed close to the cold iron of the newsstand like a hyena lurking in darkness. The cigarette butt dangling from his mouth flickered faintly, casting light on the gruesome scar that ran from his brow bone to the corner of his mouth like a dead centipede. The eerie blue glow from his phone screen accentuated the roughness of his face, adding a savage edge. His thumb hovered over the send button, knuckles white from strain.

Static crackled in his earphone, followed by a deliberately low, emotionless male voice—the shadowy assistant of Bai Shi: “Boss Bai says it’s too noisy to act now. The cops just swept through; the heat’s on. Keep watch. Find out the woman’s background and Yang’s whereabouts. Wait for him to be alone, or... find a more ‘natural’ chance. No loose ends.”

A Bao’s Adam’s apple bobbed; he exhaled a foul breath mixed with tobacco and cold vapor, silently cursing. He swiped to delete the earlier message asking whether to act, then typed a cold reply: “Understood. Keep eyes locked.” He pressed send.

His gaze shifted back toward the hotpot restaurant. Through the hazy steam and shifting silhouettes, he spotted the window-side table. The young man surnamed Yang clumsily tried to retrieve something from the pot, his movements stiff and awkward—his back surely still aching. Opposite him sat the woman... A Bao narrowed his eyes. Su Jin. He remembered the name. Records showed she was a research professor? Looking weak and frail, yet last night beneath the tower, she proved quite tenacious.

Just then, inside the restaurant, Yang Rui appeared to have worsened his injury with a sudden, excessive movement. He gasped sharply and swayed. Su Jin immediately put down her chopsticks and reached across the table to support his arm, her face filled with unmasked concern. A Bao caught that moment—Yang Rui looked up and said something to Su Jin, forcing a smile through the pain, and her eyes responded with a look... that look. After years in the underworld, A Bao knew it well. It was not the gaze of a mere partner or a life-saving friend.

A cold, cruel smile crept onto A Bao’s lips, twisting the scar into an even more terrifying snarl. He pulled out another, older phone, one without smart features, powered it on, and dialed an unnamed number. Two rings, then a rough male voice answered.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me, Leopard,” A Bao whispered like a snake slipping through grass. “Old city alley, ‘Old Stove’ hotpot, third table by the window. One man, one woman. The man’s back is injured. Arrange an ‘accident.’ Cripple the man, keep it clean. The woman... leave her for now, scare her, make sure she remembers the pain. Wait for them to disperse and for the man to be alone before moving in.” He paused, then added, “He’s trained, very slippery. Last night, he took down one of our brothers in the pit. Use weapons, no survivors. Disappear immediately after.”

Two seconds of silence, punctuated only by heavy breathing. “Understood. Cripple the man, scare the woman. Wait for him to be alone, use weapons, no survivors. Price?”

“Same as usual, double. Cash, usual place.” A Bao ended the call abruptly, removing the battery. He cast one last glance at the oblivious couple inside, slammed out his cigarette on the cold iron with a hiss, then melted silently into the deeper shadows behind him like a drop of ink dissolving into the night.

The alley remained quiet, save for the muffled clamor of the hotpot restaurant and the ceaseless hum of the distant city. The deadly net had silently spread, awaiting its weary prey’s unwitting step.

The bubbling beef tallow in the pot churned, rolling red waves infused with peppercorn and chili, releasing a spicy white mist. Su Jin had just placed a piece of boiled tripe into Yang Rui’s bowl, her words “Injured men should just sit still” still carrying a strained lightness, when suddenly—

“Bang!!!”

A deafening explosion shattered the calm, not the crash of pots and pans but the violent fracturing of glass! The piercing, ear-splitting crash instantly drowned out all noise inside the restaurant!

The giant floor-to-ceiling window facing the alley, near Yang Rui and Su Jin’s table, seemed struck by an invisible sledgehammer! Spiderweb cracks radiated wildly from a single point, countless shards of glass shot inward like hailstones, shrieking deathly.

“Ah—!” Screams erupted instantly; patrons scattered in terror, overturning tables and chairs. The sound of shattering cups and plates rang relentlessly.

Yang Rui’s pupils contracted sharply at the instant the blast reached him. The excruciating pain in his back was instantly eclipsed by a bone-chilling sense of peril—a primal instinct honed countless times on the edge of life and death.

“Watch out!” he almost shouted, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. Ignoring the rending pain in his back, he sprang up from the plastic stool with all his might and lunged fiercely toward Su Jin, who sat opposite him. His speed was hardly that of a man recently diagnosed with a fracture.

“Crash—!”

At the moment he toppled onto Su Jin, a heavy octagonal hammerhead, gleaming coldly, carried the momentum of the shattered glass and impact like a cannonball. Piercing through the broken window, it emitted a grating rush of air and slammed violently onto the table where they had been seated.

“Clang!!!”

The deafening impact numbed ears; the thick wooden tabletop dented deeply under the blow. The boiling hotpot suddenly surged, sending scalding broth mixed with chili oil erupting like a volcanic explosion in all directions. Splinters, scalding soup, and peppercorns rained down like a violent storm upon the two sprawled on the floor.

Yang Rui pressed protectively over Su Jin, absorbing most of the burning oil and flying debris with his back and shoulders. The searing pain from the scalds and the bruising blows spread instantly through his body. He groaned softly as his vision darkened at the edges.

“Yang Rui!” Su Jin, pinned beneath him, felt his body shudder violently and his muscles tense instantly. The sizzling hot oil splattered across his back, the acrid scent of chili oil and glass dust blending with the raw metallic tang of blood assaulted her nostrils. Terror and worry seized her heart in an instant.