Chapter 514: Madness! Madness! Madness!
by cnwebnovelsChapter 514: Madness! Madness! Madness!
Ding Ruilong stopped. Even turning around took him a moment; he’d drunk so much that his reactions were sluggish.
A bodyguard standing just behind the armchair immediately stepped over to the coffee table, picked up the phone, and hurried back to Ding Ruilong.
“Boss,” he said, handing it over.
Ding Ruilong took the phone and looked at the screen.
Caller ID: Meng Junhao.
He tapped the screen twice before finally hitting Answer and raising the phone to his ear. Meng Junhao’s respectful voice came through.
“Young Master Ding.”
“What is it?” Ding Ruilong asked drunkenly.
“Young Master Ding, I’ve found what you asked me to look into this afternoon.” Hearing how drunk Ding Ruilong sounded, Meng Junhao first reminded him what the call was about. “I got some photographs. Would you like me to send them to you…?”
Ding Ruilong jolted.
His mind cleared considerably.
“You photographed He Shiqin? And that girl?” he asked.
“I got them. I got all of them, including Wu Chen. I saw the three of them eating together. It was quite a coincidence. I’d only arranged this afternoon for people to watch the cars used by Wu Chen, Li Ruobing, and Li Ruotai. I wasn’t sure which car Wu Chen would drive, since he doesn’t own one in his own name. And then…”
“Send me the photographs!” Ding Ruilong interrupted.
Meng Junhao swallowed the rest of his prepared explanation. In a way, it was a relief. He hadn’t been entirely comfortable with his fabricated story and had been afraid Ding Ruilong would grow suspicious.
Being interrupted like that suggested Ding Ruilong hadn’t suspected anything at all.
“Yes, yes, Young Master Ding. I’ll email them to you right away. Please check your inbox,” Meng Junhao said quickly.
The call ended.
Still drunk, Ding Ruilong turned his head awkwardly toward a bodyguard, waved a hand, and ordered, “Computer.”
The bodyguard immediately ran upstairs to fetch Ding Ruilong’s laptop.
Ding Ruilong staggered back to the sofa and sat down, unconsciously gripping his phone tightly. His drunken expression was fading. He was intoxicated, but nowhere near unconscious. He’d smashed more red wine than he’d actually drunk.
Meng Junhao’s remark about the three of them eating together had been extraordinarily effective at sobering him up.
Soon.
The bodyguard jogged downstairs with the laptop, set it on the coffee table, opened it, and adjusted its position so the screen faced Ding Ruilong.
The computer was already powered on.
Ding Ruilong opened his email. Impatient and drunk, he entered the wrong password twice before getting it right. Finally logged in, he found a compressed file waiting in his inbox.
Retrieve the attachment.
Unzip it.
Open the folder.
There were more than a hundred photographs inside.
Ding Ruilong opened the first picture. The instant he enlarged it and saw it clearly, his entire body seemed to freeze. He stared, wide-eyed, his eyelids twitching.
It was a photograph taken outside the Sichuan restaurant.
In the picture, Wu Chen had one arm around a woman’s waist and was whispering something into her ear. Ding Ruilong hadn’t seen He Shiqin in person for many years. His memory of her appearance dated back to when she was not yet twenty.
But he recognized her immediately. The tall, beautiful woman in the flowing dress, still looking so young, was He Shiqin!
At the left edge of the photograph, he could also see a teenage girl entering the revolving door. The image was unclear and showed only her back, but Ding Ruilong knew who she was.
He clicked the next photograph.
This one had been taken from a window across the street. Through the opposite window, the three of them could be seen sitting at a table. Wu Chen was raising his glass to He Shiqin, while He Xinxin, seen in profile, held a large bottle of cola and poured herself a drink.
Next photograph!
Next!
Next!
The food arrived.
They ate together.
A happy, harmonious scene.
He Shiqin and Wu Chen gazed into each other’s eyes.
He Xinxin was beaming, delighted.
He Shiqin served Wu Chen some soup.
Wu Chen smiled and gestured as he spoke to He Xinxin, who listened with an eager smile.
Clinking glasses! Meeting eyes! Passing napkins!
He Shiqin, smiling brightly, tilted her head and rested her chin on her hand, watching Wu Chen speak with rapt attention.
He Xinxin was so excited she’d stood up, apparently imitating something for Wu Chen.
As Ding Ruilong continued looking, he seemed to sober up completely. His expression grew terrifyingly dark, veins bulged across his forehead, and his bloodshot eyes turned red.
Even his breathing grew heavy.
Finally, Ding Ruilong reached the most crucial photograph of all: while her daughter He Xinxin was out of the private room, He Shiqin leaned over and kissed Wu Chen.
BANG!
A tremendous crash!
Ding Ruilong had struck the laptop screen with his hand, sending the computer flying. The blow was so powerful that it traveled six or seven meters before hitting the floor and breaking into two pieces.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck your mother!” Ding Ruilong sprang to his feet as though losing his mind. He threw up both hands in agitation, then dropped them, cursing as he paced back and forth, frantic with rage and unable to find any way to release it.
He’d hit the computer with his left hand. Although that hand hadn’t been injured before, striking the screen with such force was bound to leave it swollen.
But Ding Ruilong seemed not to feel the pain.
“Wu Chen… Wu Chen…”
“You’re screwing with me, are you…”
“Fuck you…”
“Goddamn it!”
Ding Ruilong was on the brink of madness, almost neurotic. The alcohol only amplified his emotions. He muttered to himself and paced for a full minute or two before calming slightly. Then he spun around and shouted at the bodyguard, “Computer! Bring me a computer! Fucking useless idiot!”
The bodyguard hurried upstairs again and brought down another laptop.
Ding Ruilong liked smashing things, so there were always spare electronics—computers, phones, and the like—in the house. When he was in a good mood, he knew what his temper was like. But he never reflected on it, nor did he believe he needed to control himself.
They hardly cost anything. If he needed to vent, he’d vent. It was better to let it out.
Once again, Ding Ruilong logged into his email, downloaded the message again, extracted the archive, opened the folder, and looked at the photographs.
This time, he went through the rest.
The final picture showed Wu Chen watching a taxi drive away, frowning slightly as he spoke on the phone.
That was the end.
Ding Ruilong felt there should have been more, but the photographs stopped there abruptly.
Whether it was the alcohol, his fury, or the pain beginning to throb in his left hand, his fingers trembled slightly. He picked up his phone and immediately called Meng Junhao back.
The call connected within seconds.
“Is that all? What happened afterward? Where did that damned woman take the child?” Ding Ruilong demanded, firing questions at him in an agitated rush.
He was furious!
“Th-there aren’t any more.” Meng Junhao seemed frightened by his anger and stammered before managing to speak properly. “It was Wu Chen. Wu Chen spotted us. I had a car waiting outside, ready to follow them. When the taxi left, he seemed to notice that the car was following it. Then… he called in Crooked Zhao and a whole bunch of men. I was afraid we’d be discovered. We followed for a while, but when things didn’t look right, I called off the pursuit…”
“I’ve already told the brother who was driving to leave Donghai tonight. We’re getting rid of the car, too. Wu Chen’s already investigating…”
This was the explanation Wu Chen had prepared for Meng Junhao.
It accounted for the missing photographs.
Wu Chen had supposedly noticed the surveillance and immediately called in men to track both the taxi carrying He Shiqin and the vehicle following it.
The story Wu Chen had devised for Meng Junhao was more extensive than what Meng had just told Ding Ruilong.
Meng was nervous, so his account came out somewhat jumbled.
But Ding Ruilong believed him. He had no reason to suspect Meng Junhao, and the explanation sounded quite reasonable.
“Keep looking! Find out where they’re living! Find them!” Ding Ruilong panted heavily, his voice rising until he was screaming hysterically.
“Yes, yes, Young Master Ding, don’t worry, I’ll—”
CRASH!
Before Meng could finish, Ding Ruilong slammed his phone onto the coffee table. The blow left a small dent in the solid wood and shattered the phone. Such was the force behind it!
He was going mad!
Ding Ruilong’s eyes were stretched wide.
Breathing heavily, he turned back to the computer. He looked again at the final photograph, then began flipping backward, faster and faster. Soon he reached the picture of He Shiqin kissing Wu Chen.
He stopped.
And stared.
Ding Ruilong clenched his teeth so tightly that the muscles in his jaw bulged.
Suddenly!
He snatched up the laptop and hurled it to the floor, then stomped on it furiously. When even that failed to satisfy him, he jerked his head up toward the bodyguard.
“Gun! Give me a gun!”
Without a word, the bodyguard pulled a pistol from inside his jacket, stepped forward, and handed it to him.
Giving Ding Ruilong a gun in his present state was dangerous, but disobeying him was even more dangerous. The bodyguard didn’t dare hesitate.
Ding Ruilong pointed the gun at the laptop on the floor and repeatedly pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. The safety was still on.
CRACK!
In a rage, he hurled the pistol onto the laptop he’d already stomped to pieces.
Another bodyguard standing behind the long sofa reacted quickly. He stepped forward, offered Ding Ruilong his own pistol, and disengaged the safety.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Gunshots!
Fragments flew everywhere, and the sharp smell of gunpowder spread through the room.
In an enclosed space like the living room, the shots were deafening, despite the room’s considerable size. Each report made the surrounding servants and bodyguards flinch.
Still, none dared speak or move.
Ding Ruilong emptied the magazine in one burst!
Then he hurled the pistol onto the utterly destroyed laptop again.
“Fuck! Wu Chen!” Ding Ruilong cursed. As though he’d finally vented enough, his face flushed, he strode around the coffee table toward the exit, apparently intending to do something.
But as he passed the liquor cabinet, he erupted again.
He yanked open its door, seized it, and pulled violently, as though fighting the cabinet itself, determined to tear the door clean off. Instead, he pulled the entire cabinet over.
“Boss!” A bodyguard who’d been watching closely for fear he’d hurt himself lunged forward and yanked Ding Ruilong away just in time.
CRASH! SHATTER!
Every bottle in the cabinet broke, spilling liquor across the floor.
Ding Ruilong stumbled, and the bodyguard caught him from behind and steadied him. Because Ding Ruilong had been drinking, the guards didn’t dare try to reason with him—not even those who’d served him for years.
“Fuck! Wu Chen! Wu Chen! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! Kill you!” Ding Ruilong began pacing and circling again, looking down and sweeping his gaze around the room.
He seemed to be searching for something, yet also wandering aimlessly.
He still hadn’t managed to vent his rage.
He wanted desperately to kill someone. Desperately!
At last, Ding Ruilong seemed to think of something. He stopped abruptly, spun around, and strode toward the stairs. Several bodyguards immediately followed, helping him as he descended so that he wouldn’t fall in his drunken state.
The basement level of the manor villa.
Ding Ruilong kicked open the door of a room. It was a large, somewhat cluttered storage room, filled with miscellaneous objects.
The lights were on.
Besides the clutter piled along the walls and in the corners, several bound figures were visible.
Five chairs stood in the middle of the room. Three were occupied by people tied to them. One of the captives had a severely injured hand wrapped in bandages, apparently after being tortured. The two empty chairs also bore dried bloodstains.
Ding Ruilong strode forward and immediately kicked over the empty chair on the far left. Then he snatched up a baseball bat from the floor, raised it, and began beating someone.
“Are you going to fucking talk?! Are you?! Still won’t talk, huh?!”
“Ahh… Boss! Boss, I don’t know!” the man screamed as he was beaten.
“Still won’t tell me?!” Ding Ruilong ignored his answer, suddenly tossed the bat aside, and thrust a hand behind him.
A bodyguard pulled a pistol from the back of his waistband, released the safety, and handed it over.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Ding Ruilong shot the man dead!
Then he turned to the other two men who were still alive and demanded with bulging eyes and furious intensity, “Are you going to fucking talk?! Are you?!”
He raised the gun immediately after asking, without giving them a chance to answer.
“Boss, don’t kill me! I really don’t kno—”
“I don’t know where Jiang Chuan is!”
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Ding Ruilong pulled the trigger again and again.
These men had all been seized on Ding Ruilong’s orders recently. Each had some connection to Jiang Chuan. Some were subordinates of his own subordinates; others were people Ding Ruilong believed had been close to Jiang Chuan.
The Ding family was, of course, doing everything possible to find Jiang Chuan.
Ding Ruilong was also searching in his own way: abducting people and forcing answers out of them.
Had he been sober, he might not have killed these three men now. But he wasn’t sober.
He simply wanted to kill!
When the gun ran out of bullets, Ding Ruilong flung it aside, turned, and headed out.
One bodyguard stayed behind and used his radio to summon men from outside to deal with the bodies. The others continued following Ding Ruilong.
Ding Ruilong went upstairs.
As he stepped onto the last stair, he stumbled and lurched sideways into the wall. A quick-thinking bodyguard grabbed him before he could fall, though he still struck the wall.
That provoked him again.
Ding Ruilong swung his fist straight into the wall—then let out a scream of excruciating pain!
Punching a wall could easily break bones.
More importantly, he’d instinctively used his dominant hand—his already injured, bandaged right hand!
“Young Master!”
“Boss!”
“Get a doctor! Quickly!”
The bodyguards erupted into confusion.
An hour later.
Back in the manor villa’s living room, which was still in disarray, Ding Ruilong sat expressionlessly on the sofa with his right hand resting on the armrest.
A family doctor crouched beside him, carefully treating the wound again and rebandaging his right hand.
His right arm had been anesthetized, so the pain was gone for now.
Ding Ruilong finally seemed to have calmed down.
The living room was utterly silent. It was as though no one was even breathing. Ding Ruilong sat there with a blank expression and vacant eyes, his thoughts impossible to read.
A long while passed.
Suddenly, Ding Ruilong raised his swollen left hand and said hoarsely, “Phone.”
A bodyguard fetched a phone and handed it over.
Ding Ruilong looked down, scrolled through it, and called Meng Junhao again.
Meng answered after five or six seconds.
“Hello, Young Master Ding.” His voice was as respectful as ever.
“You know Donghai. Get rid of Wu Chen. Tonight or tomorrow. Use a gun if you have to. I’ll handle any trouble. I want him dead immediately! Once it’s done, I’ll give you two hundred million!” Ding Ruilong rasped into the phone.
Meng Junhao fell silent.