Chapter 27: The Truly Dangerous One

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Truly Dangerous Figure

“Just dealing with some personal matters, she should be back soon,” Xu Yun said, lifting his cup for a sip of water. He knew that sooner or later, Ruan Qingshuang’s curiosity would get the better of her, but he really had no way to explain this affair.

Ruan Qingshuang had tried several times to hold back, but in the end couldn’t resist. “Who exactly is Qiu Yan? Whenever I pass by her, I always feel an inexplicable chill… What’s her relationship with Guoguo? And… whose child is Guoguo?”

Xu Yun lounged comfortably on the sofa. “Uh, you’re asking so many things at once, I don’t even know how to answer. Honestly, I’m not clear myself, just as curious as you are.”

“Xu Yun, don’t lie to me!” Ruan Qingshuang insisted. “You must know who Qiu Yan is. Tell me, I promise I won’t spread it.”

“If I told you Qiu Yan is Guoguo’s personal bodyguard, would you believe it?” Xu Yun shrugged, wincing as his movement tugged at his wound.

Ruan Qingshuang shot him a glare. “You’ve read too many web novels! Even if Guoguo had a bodyguard, it should be a handsome guy from some secret unit—not a girl!”

“I think you’re the one who’s read too many web novels…” Xu Yun said, his face darkening. “That’s all I know. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.”

There was simply no persuasive power in his words.

But seeing Xu Yun’s genuinely innocent expression, Ruan Qingshuang didn’t press further. “Then rest early. Tomorrow morning we’ll go to the hospital to check on your injury.”

“A good night’s sleep will be enough, no need for the hospital,” Xu Yun replied, rising to return to his room, feeling genuinely tired.

Once the door was closed, Xu Yun rummaged through the backpack he’d brought home, pulling out a white porcelain bottle. The medicinal powder inside healed wounds far faster than penicillin injections or any random anti-inflammatory painkillers from the hospital.

Though it resembled the sulfanilamide powder issued to American soldiers during World War II, its efficacy far surpassed the old powder’s disinfectant and pain-relieving properties. Its ability to inhibit bacterial growth was astonishing—far superior to the outdated sulfa drugs.

Xu Yun had developed the powder himself, so he used it with confidence.

He tore off the thick hospital gauze, applied the powder to his wound, and after a burst of stabbing pain, felt his shoulder lighten—one word, relief!

…

Far away in a secret villa on the outskirts of Suhang City, a burly man with hawk-like brown eyes and a prominent nose sat on an enormous Italian imported lambskin sofa. His demeanor was reserved and inscrutable, his pale blue complexion lending an air of mystery.

Holding a glass of whiskey, his eyes were fixed intently on the electronic map displayed on his laptop.

Around him stood several men, each exuding a fierce aura. Suddenly, he frowned, muttering to himself, “Hedong City Airport… What are those three fools doing there…”

Then, abruptly, the three green dots on the screen vanished. The man’s glass shattered in his grip with a sharp crack, whiskey spilling across the floor—but his hand remained unscathed.

“Boss, what’s going on? The trackers disappeared!” one man exclaimed.

“They must have blocked the signal on the plane,” another affirmed.

The brown-haired, hawk-eyed man’s gaze turned icy; things were not going as he’d expected. He addressed a man behind him in a calm voice: “Go fetch Scorpion. Tell him I have a task for him in Hedong.”

“Yes… yes, sir!” The man behind the sofa couldn’t help but tremble; it was clear the boss no longer trusted them, and now the Red Scorpion would strike directly!

Now, the truly dangerous figure had not yet set out for Hedong.

…

About two hours later, Qiu Yan returned from the airport to the medicinal restaurant. The three chips she’d dispatched were now flying toward South America, Western Europe, and Africa; this should buy her a period of peace.

She walked to Xu Yun’s room, intending to say a few words, but hearing his steady breathing inside, guessed he was asleep and decided not to disturb him.

Then she went to the door of Ruan Qingshuang and Guoguo’s room, listening briefly before returning to her own quarters, reassured.

At that moment, Ruan Qingshuang suddenly opened her bedroom door and softly called out, “Qiu Yan, can we talk?”

Qiu Yan halted, turning around. Ruan Qingshuang’s voice was full of anticipation, and Qiu Yan nodded.

The two women switched on the living room’s floor lamp and sat opposite each other on the couch. Ruan Qingshuang brewed two cups of light tea and handed one to Qiu Yan, who accepted without protest.

Ruan Qingshuang was not skilled with words; she thought for a long time but couldn’t find an opening, sipping more than half her tea yet still unable to utter a single word.

Qiu Yan, likewise not one for expressing herself, finally broke the silence after several minutes. “Qingshuang, thank you for taking care of Guoguo these days.”

“I… It’s what I should do, don’t be so formal,” Ruan Qingshuang replied, caught off guard by Qiu Yan’s gratitude. Qiu Yan had always seemed so distant and aloof.

“You may be curious about Guoguo and me, but I can’t tell you,” Qiu Yan said, a faint sorrow in her brows. “I have my reasons for silence. You’re Guoguo’s benefactor, I don’t want to drag you into our troubles. Please trust me—my silence is for your sake.”

In the underworld, it was known that only Feng Qiansui and Guoguo could make the Fox Empress consider their well-being. Now, Ruan Qingshuang had become the third.

It’s said that kindness begets reward. Even a cold and icy soul like Qiu Yan was moved by Ruan Qingshuang’s goodness. Though strangers at first, Ruan Qingshuang treated Guoguo as her own daughter, caring for her lovingly.

For that alone, she was deserving of heaven’s favor.

“I didn’t mean that, I… I don’t want to pry into your affairs,” Ruan Qingshuang said anxiously, at a loss for words. “I just… just want to know—will you take Guoguo away?”

Her face was written with worry and unease, afraid Qiu Yan would say yes, yet feeling certain Qiu Yan would take Guoguo away—there could be no other answer.

All her inner turmoil was evident in her expression.

“I don’t know what the future holds,” Qiu Yan replied, still stingy with her smiles, her autumn eyes fixed on Ruan Qingshuang. “But at least not now.”

Ruan Qingshuang smiled faintly, saying nothing more. She rose and walked back to her room. Though she didn’t know how to face Guoguo’s possible departure, she was grateful that, for now, she didn’t have to think about it.

“However… if Guoguo doesn’t want to leave, I will never force her,” Qiu Yan added, giving Ruan Qingshuang limitless hope.

Ruan Qingshuang turned and said softly, “Thank you.”

Watching her return to her room, Qiu Yan’s lips curled gently. “I should be the one thanking you,” she murmured.

Every word of the women’s conversation reached Xu Yun’s ears. He felt goosebumps rise—who would have thought the Fox Empress Qiu Yan had such a gentle, tender side? It was simply incredible!

After all, when she eliminated Wildcat and Qin Hu, she hadn’t even blinked!

Night had deepened; all of Hedong was plunged in utter quiet.

But the quieter it was, the more uneasy Xu Yun felt. It was like the calm before a storm—always peaceful until the thunder strikes, heralding a torrential downpour…

Xu Yun sighed. “All I wanted was to chase girls—how did I wind up entangled in trouble again? Maybe my master was right—am I really born to attract misfortune?”

Back in that place, anything Xu Yun was involved in always turned tricky! Even the simplest tasks would end up spawning a host of major complications, often involving figures that left everyone with headaches.

You can’t blame society for bad luck, and you can’t blame the government for a hard life!

Xu Yun yawned deeply; if he didn’t sleep soon, dawn would break. He didn’t want to face tomorrow’s kitchen duty feeling exhausted. Sleep, then—so much trouble had happened these past days, surely it was time for a break, even for someone as unlucky as him.

He’d liked Hedong ever since arriving, precisely because it was quiet—and the city was full of beautiful women.

With these thoughts, Xu Yun drifted off to dreamland, playing chess with the Duke of Zhou—the one with eggs…

…

Hedong’s Municipal Bureau soon finalized the handling of Gong You.

Although Qin Wan’er had rendered outstanding service, Director Chen Wei decreed that, while commendable, the matter must not be publicized to avoid unnecessary complications!

Qin Wan’er herself disliked facing the media spotlight, so she was quite happy with this arrangement.

Though there was no fanfare, the incident had elevated Qin Wan’er to a position she’d never reached before—her police rank jumped from the most basic officer to a Level Two Inspector!

What does it mean to rise three levels in rank? What does it mean to ascend as if on clouds?

Qin Wan’er’s position was directly promoted, and Director Chen himself appointed her as Deputy Chief of the Wen Hui District Police Station—the youngest in history! Her promotion was well earned, unlike those random online officials who rise mysteriously on rockets!

“Xiao Qin, you did well—the people need officers like you!” Director Chen Wei said, patting her shoulder encouragingly. “Keep up the good work! We’re all counting on you!”

“Thank you for your encouragement, Director Chen!” Qin Wan’er responded, saluting with righteous vigor.

Chen Wei smiled faintly. Even now, he found it hard to believe that Gong You—the nationally wanted A-level fugitive known as the Peregrine—had fallen into the hands of a female officer from their small Wen Hui District station in Hedong!

Could it be she had help from a master? But all this was just Chen Wei’s speculation. He smiled knowingly; to have such an outstanding young officer in Hedong’s police force was truly his good fortune.