Chapter 379: Of Course It Wasn’t an Accident!

Chapter 379: Of Course It Wasn’t an Accident!

A crash!

As the Touareg crossed the intersection, a Toyota Land Cruiser shot out from the road on the right. The instant its driver realized they might collide, he reacted.

He hit the horn.

He swung the wheel.

But it was too late.

The Toyota slammed into the Touareg’s right rear. The taillight burst apart, and with a deafening crash, the impact whipped the Touareg’s tail around toward the other side.

Old Qian stood on the brakes. Forced into a fishtail and shoved half a meter sideways, the Touareg skidded on several more meters before coming to a dead stop.

The Toyota veered from the impact too, surged more than ten meters forward, and screeched to a halt.

The airbags in both vehicles had gone off.

Hazard lights blinked in the dark.

Behind the Toyota’s wheel sat a young man of twenty-six or twenty-seven in a black T-shirt and a baseball cap, dark-skinned and thin.

He gripped the wheel hard with both hands. He shook his head to clear it, shoved the airbag down, then glanced over and watched the battered Touareg in the rearview mirror.

He kept watching.

Until Peng Wei and Old Qian climbed out one after the other, shaking their heads, needing something to hold on to as they got out, still swaying on their feet.

They looked dazed.

But they were unhurt.

The young man looked away, took out his phone, and quickly dialed a number.

It connected right away.

“Boss, it’s done!”

“Good work.”

One line each, and the call was over.

He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed open the door. He didn’t go over to argue with Peng Wei about who was blind or who couldn’t drive. Instead he leaned against the door and lit a cigarette.

Cigarette between his lips, he took out his phone again and called the police.

The traffic police.

Then the insurance company.

…

The three-car convoy of the Maserati Quattroporte, the Mercedes van, and the Lamborghini sped along Huaxi Road in West District, the Maserati in the lead.

In its back seat, Su Qingying frowned slightly and turned to look behind them. A little while ago, she’d heard a sudden loud bang somewhere back there. It had sounded like a crash.

It had nothing to do with her, though. She only glanced back a couple more times.

Ring, ring…

A phone suddenly rang. Wu Chen’s.

Su Qingying had been holding his arm. Seeing him reach for his phone, she let go. He took it out and answered at once.

“Mr. Wu, it’s done,” came Crooked Zhao’s voice.

“Nicely handled,” Wu Chen said.

Of course the crash wasn’t an accident!

During dinner at Laopinxuan, Wu Chen had used a trip to the restroom to call Crooked Zhao. He’d given him the intersection, and the exact time they would pass through it.

There were two possibilities. If Peng Wei didn’t run the red light, there would be no crash, and the man Crooked Zhao had arranged would simply leave. But if Peng Wei didn’t run it, he would lose them on the spot. And knowing Peng Wei as he did, Wu Chen was sure he would run it. So… they were certain to hit him.

The setup wasn’t just meant to shake off the tail.

More than that, it was a warning.

Wu Chen was provoking Peng Wei, and waiting to see how he would ultimately respond.

“I won’t keep you, then. Get some rest, Mr. Wu,” Crooked Zhao said, tactfully asking nothing more.

The call ended.

“Hubby, is something up?” Su Qingying asked, slipping her arm through his again.

“Nope.” Wu Chen turned and smiled at her.

“You’re not going to run off and deal with something again, are you?” she asked. The wine had left her cheeks flushed pink.

“No.” Wu Chen smiled.

“Hmph! Always so mysterious… bad guy…” came Mu Qianqian’s tipsy mumble from the front seat.

Both she and Su Qingying could tell Wu Chen was up to something. Back at that intersection, he’d suddenly told the driver to hold on a little longer. The light was already green, yet he’d said to wait…

It was strange.

Neither of them had any idea why.

Not that the reason mattered. Su Qingying didn’t much care about such things. She was pleasantly woozy from the wine and only wanted to go home with Wu Chen… The night was long, and she didn’t want him rushing off to deal with business again.

As long as he didn’t suddenly leave, nothing else mattered.

Twenty minutes later.

West District, the Dingxiang International villa community.

Su Qingying had bought a house here only days ago: Villa No. 9, Area C.

At twenty-seven, she had lived with her parents until now.

It was absurd. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t afford a place of her own.

It was all because of Madam Su. She kept her daughter on far too tight a leash and wouldn’t let her move out on her own. Su Qingying was twenty-seven! Even ordinary families didn’t keep that kind of control over a grown daughter. But Madam Su did.

Things were different now, of course.

Su Qingying had moved out. No one could control her anymore.

—

A new day.

July 27, 2020.

Villa No. 9, Area C, Dingxiang International. In the second-floor master bedroom, at seven o’clock sharp, Wu Chen opened his eyes. He gazed at the ceiling, a smile curving his lips, then let his eyes drift shut again.

He rolled over. Without even knowing whom he had his arms around, he buried his face and went back to sleep.

They had gone to bed very late last night.

Today, he was sleeping in.

Time slipped quietly by.

Wu Chen actually slept until noon, when his phone finally woke him.

Ring, ring…

He opened his eyes, lifted his head, reached out, and picked it up. A glance at the caller ID drew a faintly peculiar look across his face. He answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Wu! Do you have time today? Can we meet and talk?” Peng Wei’s tone was grave in the extreme, with something almost chilling about it, as though he were holding something back.

“Sure. This afternoon,” Wu Chen said with a faint smile.

“One o’clock. Qingyuan Teahouse,” Peng Wei said, naming the time and place outright.

“All right,” Wu Chen said.

After hanging up, he glanced around. He was alone in the bedroom. He got up, washed up in the bathroom, and dressed.

Ten-odd minutes later, when he stepped out of the bedroom, he noticed… sounds from downstairs.

And the smell of cooking.

He went down.

He heard noise from the kitchen and saw Mu Qianqian in a nightgown, sprawled on her back across the sofa, head turned toward the TV, munching potato chips, the very picture of laziness.

“Big bad guy, you’re up,” she called with a smile when she saw him coming down.

“What did you call me?” Wu Chen raised an eyebrow, teasing her.

“Good big brother~~ Good big brother~~” Mu Qianqian corrected herself at once, twice for good measure.

Last night she’d gotten “punished” for calling him a big bad guy. She’d learned her lesson.

Wu Chen smiled. As he walked into the living room, he asked, “Why aren’t you at work? It’s Monday, isn’t it?”

When he’d first woken, he’d assumed Su Qingying and Mu Qianqian had already left for work.

“Sister Qingying said we’d go in this afternoon. She said she wanted to… cook for her hubby.” Mu Qianqian put on Su Qingying’s voice for the last part, then gave an exaggerated shiver, as if it had given her goosebumps.

“Cheeky.” Reaching the sofa, Wu Chen lightly flicked her forehead.

He was only passing by. Without stopping, he went straight into the kitchen.

“Hubby, you’re up!” Su Qingying greeted him with a smile as he came in.

She had a spatula in one hand and an apron on.

The little fairy was cooking again!

Wu Chen came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and craned his head to look past her. “What are you making that’s so tasty?” he asked softly, smiling.

“Ribs. To help my hubby get his strength back.” Su Qingying turned her head as she spoke, and since they were so close, she kissed him.

As naturally as anything. When she wanted to kiss him, she did.

Wu Chen chatted with her in the kitchen for a while. He even offered to help, but she wouldn’t let him. Her cooking had improved again, she said, and she didn’t need her hubby’s help.

So he went back to the living room.

He had barely sat down on the sofa when Mu Qianqian wriggled over and laid her head in his lap. She went on watching TV and eating chips, crunch, crunch, utterly at ease.

Wu Chen idly pinched her little cheek, an unthinking habit of his hands, and watched TV with her for a while, chatting about nothing in particular.

Eleven-fifty. Lunch was served!

The three of them enjoyed the meal together.

Twelve-thirty. Lunch was over.

Time for everyone to go. Su Qingying and Mu Qianqian had work, and Wu Chen had business of his own. But since Su Qingying had to wait for Mu Qianqian to go upstairs and change, Wu Chen left first. Before he went down to the underground garage, the two of them kissed him on either cheek.

Five minutes later.

The blue Lamborghini pulled out of Dingxiang International. Wu Chen floored it and sped east, straight for Central District.

Time to see Peng Wei.

Peng Wei was no small fry, but neither was he worth any great effort on Wu Chen’s part. He’d take care of him.

However Peng Wei reacted, Wu Chen would take care of him today.