Chapter 5: The Central Park Murder Case (5)

Wu Zui, who understood the whole course of events, actually disliked Zhong Yuyu very much, for reasons beyond just the obvious. After hearing what Wu Zui had to say, Yan Junhao’s eyes lit up, but then as if something else occurred to him, he quickly began operating his phone.

Wu Zui watched as a dark, churning cloud of black mist formed above Yan Junhao’s head; his widened eyes quickly became bloodshot. Huge swathes of Yan Junhao’s memories surged into his mind, making his head pound with pain.

Seeing Wu Zui staring at Yan Junhao, Xiao Ke’ai refrained from asking more questions and began brushing the dust from her clothes. Her white coat was covered with grime from crawling on the floor.

“This house is really poorly cleaned!” she thought to herself.

Soon, the detectives rushed in, swiftly collecting all the firearms. Everyone was searched, including the seven bodyguards who had fainted but not been killed—just in case any of Yan Junhao’s accomplices tried anything underhanded.

“Old Wu! Old Wu! You alive? Say something!” Lin Feng’s infuriating voice drifted up from below.

“Come on up!” Wu Zui, now awake but dizzy, called down to Lin Feng, his voice weak and exhausted.

“Good thing the first memory fragment is what just happened. No need to look again!” he thought.

Guided by Lin Feng, the detectives quickly stormed to the second floor. By then, Yan Junhao, having sent his message, was handcuffed and taken away. Zhong Yuyu, not yet dead, was rushed off by the first ambulance to arrive. In Wu Zui’s experience, even if Zhong survived, he’d lose half his life at least.

“Why did you come here yourself? Is someone still watching Song Shuxian? Zhao Dali hasn’t been caught yet. He might go after her,” Wu Zui asked Lin Feng, frowning.

“Relax, someone’s there. I came because you called for backup! How’s that for loyalty?” Lin Feng slung an arm over Wu Zui’s shoulders, grinning with the swagger of a brother-in-arms.

“I’m going after Zhao Dali. He should have a two-year-old boy with him and can’t have gotten far!” Wu Zui glanced at Zhong Yuyu being carried away and said to Lin Feng.

“He took Song Shuxian’s son too?” Lin Feng was surprised. Judging by Zhong Yuyu’s state, he’d assumed the child had already been killed by Yan Junhao’s people.

“That child is Yan Junhao’s,” Wu Zui clarified, instantly grasping Lin Feng’s misunderstanding.

“What?” Lin Feng was stunned by Wu Zui’s words. A flood of thoughts flashed through his mind—adultery in marriage, a plot for a wealthy family’s fortune, infighting over stolen goods—leaving him dizzy.

“Stop murdering your brain cells! Go interrogate Yan Junhao. Give me one of your guns, and a bulletproof vest—I’ll need them!” Wu Zui interrupted Lin Feng’s wild speculations, holding out his hand. The guns he and Xiao Ke’ai had were already turned in as evidence and couldn’t be taken out again.

“...Old Wu, be careful,” Lin Feng hesitated as he handed over his gun. He’d signed this one out from the armory himself. If anything happened, he’d be in trouble whether or not it was his fault.

Strictly speaking, lending Wu Zui the gun was already a violation of regulations. If it went unnoticed, fine; if it was found out, he’d be finished.

“Relax. I’ll come back as soon as Zhao Dali is caught. I’ll try not to use it—it’s just insurance in case something goes wrong. Make sure nothing happens to Song Shuxian!” Wu Zui, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, took the gun with a weary nod.

“Come back soon!” Lin Feng didn’t ask why Wu Zui didn’t want him to go. He trusted Wu Zui enough to know there was a reason.

After putting the gun away, Wu Zui clapped Lin Feng on the shoulder, took the bulletproof vest he’d just removed, slipped it on, and hurried out.

“Master! Wait for me!” Xiao Ke’ai, still brushing dust from her fluffy white coat, saw Wu Zui leave and, with a startled cry, dashed after him, dodging Lin Feng’s gaze.

“Why are you following me?” Wu Zui asked, frowning as he saw Xiao Ke’ai catch up.

“Master, I want to go with you! You look exhausted—you can’t drive, but I can!” Xiao Ke’ai declared, stating her usefulness.

“...Fine, you can come! But don’t act on your own. You must listen to me!” Wu Zui, feeling the sting in his eyes and waves of dizziness, reluctantly agreed.

“Alright, Master!” Xiao Ke’ai replied cheerily.

She took the keys Wu Zui handed her and climbed into the driver’s seat. Wu Zui, settling into the passenger side, said, “Donggang, Li Family Fishing Village.”

Before Xiao Ke’ai could ask why Wu Zui had spoken to Yan Junhao the way he had, or why they were heading to Donggang, Wu Zui, utterly spent, fell asleep almost immediately.

Soon, his snores filled the car.

“Sleeping again! You must be part pig,” Xiao Ke’ai thought, picturing Wu Zui as a pig in her mind, then started the navigation system and drove toward their destination.

Meanwhile, at the city hospital, Zhao Dali—who had been preparing to target Song Shuxian—received a message from Yan Junhao. He glanced at Song Shuxian, who had already been rescued, hesitated for a moment, then hurried downstairs and got into a car his group had prepared.

Lying unconscious in the back seat was Zhong Jialin—or as Yan Junhao had already chosen to call him, Yan Shenghan.

“Kid, my future depends on you,” Zhao Dali thought, a fleeting smile crossing his face as he looked at the unconscious Yan Shenghan, then disappearing.

He started the car and sped toward Donggang, Li Family Fishing Village. There, someone could help them sneak out of the country—not the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group, just a business arrangement.

But before Zhao Dali was halfway there, Wu Zui and Xiao Ke’ai had already arrived at the fishing village.

“Master, wake up! We’re here! What should we do now?” Xiao Ke’ai shook Wu Zui’s arm, rousing him from his sleep.

“...Find a small supermarket nearby and wait for Zhao Dali. He’s going to try to slip out of the country,” Wu Zui said, still bloodshot and yawning.

“Master, how did you know he’d come here?” Xiao Ke’ai asked, her big eyes full of curiosity.

“When Yan Junhao was sending his message, the reflection in the glass behind him revealed the contents on his phone,” Wu Zui fibbed, not wanting to admit he’d seen it inside Yan Junhao’s mind. If he said that, he’d be carted off to some lab for dissection.

“Wow, Master, you really have sharp eyes! If it were me, I’d never have seen that!” Xiao Ke’ai exclaimed, mouth agape with admiration.

“Master, is this little supermarket also a front for a smuggling ring?” she asked as she drove around looking.

“No. The smuggling happens at the village pier. He’s here to buy supplies. Smugglers don’t provide food, and the filthy conditions make the risk of death high. Smart ones bring their own food and medicine. And weapons, too, since some smugglers will simply kill and rob their clients,” Wu Zui explained patiently, now much more alert.

“Master, why did you say those things to Yan Junhao?” Xiao Ke’ai parked in front of a small supermarket, still full of questions.

Wu Zui hadn’t expected her ears to be so sharp; he’d deliberately kept his voice low, not wanting her to overhear. That kind of talk could cause trouble if it got out.

Glancing around, Wu Zui realized their SUV was too conspicuous. He pointed to a muddy side road. “Park over there. We’ll hide and wait for Zhao Dali.”

“Okay!” Xiao Ke’ai replied, maneuvering the car so only the front was visible, and waited for Zhao Dali to come.

Once they were settled, Wu Zui explained, “There were three criminals at Central Park when the boy was taken. China screens foreign nationals very strictly, so only the Chinese members of the Wild Wolf Mercenary Group, like Zhao Dali, could get in. Zhang Qiang and Yan Junhao have been caught. Zhao Dali wasn’t at Zhong Yuyu’s villa. He must have gone after Song Shuxian to finish the job. As for the mercenaries’ settlement payment, Yan Junhao probably gave it to his own child. By saying what I did, Yan Junhao would realize that whether Song Shuxian lived or died was irrelevant. If Zhao Dali was caught killing her, the child would die anyway, even with a fortune, because there’d be no one to care for him.”

Listening to Wu Zui’s explanation, Xiao Ke’ai was surprised by his real intent.

“Master, are we here to arrest Zhao Dali? If he’s gone, what will happen to little Shenghan? Will he die?” Xiao Ke’ai asked worriedly.

“Whether or not Zhao Dali is tempted by the money, smuggling is incredibly dangerous. Double-crossing by smugglers, terrible living conditions—a two-year-old boy has very little chance of surviving,” Wu Zui said, watching the street.

“Then we absolutely can’t let Zhao Dali take little Shenghan away!” Xiao Ke’ai declared, waving her tiny fists with a determined look.

“As long as he’s still in the country, we can save him!” she thought.

“Master! A car’s coming!” Xiao Ke’ai’s ears twitched as she heard the hum of an engine and alerted Wu Zui.

Both pressed their faces to the window. Having seen Zhao Dali’s photo, they quickly identified him as he got out and headed for the supermarket.

In the back seat, they spotted the abducted Yan Shenghan, unconscious—Zhao Dali must have drugged him. Wu Zui’s fears had come true.