Chapter 287

Because in his mind Zheng Tan had already lumped that kid into the blacklist, and since they'd run into each other, Zheng Tan didn't intend to let him off like that; besides, this kind of night was perfect for beating someone up.

When Zheng Tan approached, that person was making a call at a public telephone by the roadside, unlike when Zheng Tan saw him at Hengwu Guangchang; now this person had changed into a different outfit, wearing very ordinary jeans, not alternative nor too fashionable, his top a similarly ordinary hoodie, and when he spoke on the phone his voice was lowered, as if discussing something unsavory, while talking his eyes occasionally glanced at the surroundings, and if he noticed someone passing he would pause a moment, wait for the passerby to leave, then continue speaking; fortunately, few people walked this little road at that time, and occasionally someone on an electric scooter zoomed past, which didn't really interfere with his call.

Zheng Tan stood on the nearby wall, where the streetlights didn't reach, and with his fur color it was hard to be noticed; besides, no one would deliberately pay attention to what was on the roadside wall at that time.

After listening for a while, Zheng Tan guessed that the person had reached some agreement with someone and was going to do something, though he didn't know the specifics; he couldn't hear the voice from the phone, and Zheng Tan hadn't listened long before the person hung up.

It was strange.

This made Zheng Tan, who had been planning to sneak over in the dark, change his mind; he decided to watch and see what the kid was actually preparing to do.

After ending the call, the person stood by the public telephone, dazed for a moment, glanced at the sports watch on his wrist, then walked toward the intersection, his steps showing some anxiety and unease; it seemed he was worrying about something.

Zheng Tan followed from the wall, watching the person leave the intersection, buy two cans of beer at a shop about to close, then return to the roadside and lean against the wall to drink; he stood between two streetlights where the light overlapped, making his silhouette somewhat blurry.

Drinking can bolster courage, and for some people it even has a calming effect.

Zheng Tan watched the person finish the two cans of beer, then lean against the wall, hands in pockets, using his back to lightly bump the wall; the force wasn't strong, but it seemed this way helped him ease his inner agitation.

The person bumping the wall with his back only paid attention to whether anyone was at either end of the intersection, perhaps because he had something on his mind; he also didn't notice the gaze fixed on him from the nearby wall. His agitation made him want to take a puff of 'that thing'. Unfortunately, because of the previous comprehensive police search and interrogation, it made him a bit wary, so he usually didn't carry those things on him; he felt his pockets, only finding half a pack of cigarettes, took them out, lit one, and smoked them one after another while leaning against the wall.

He smoked heavily, thinking too intently, and almost choked.

He took several deep breaths, waving his fists as if cheering himself up.

We seek wealth in danger! Thinking of the benefits promised by the other side, his timidity was somewhat dispelled. After pulling this job, luxury cars and beautiful women—what could he lack?

Zheng Tan saw that the person seemed to have made up his mind about something, no longer leaning against the wall to smoke, he raised his wrist to check the time, hard he flung the last half of a cigarette onto the ground, pulled up the hood at his back over his head, hands in his pockets, back slightly bent, he walked toward the intersection.

Zheng Tan, seeing this, knew the person intended to do something bad, and promptly followed him.

That person was very familiar with this area, knew several intersecting alleys well, while Zheng Tan was wondering what the person intended to do, he saw the other quicken his pace and briskly walk toward a spot, waiting at the intersection for about three or four minutes, then a person about 1.7 meters tall, slightly chubby, wearing metal-framed glasses, carrying a briefcase passed by, looking like an ordinary office worker.

The kid, upon seeing the passerby, immediately lunged forward, a cold flash in his hand, and stabbed at that person.

Zheng Tan, standing on the wall, was stunned; he never expected that someone only about two years older than Jiao Yuan and them would have the guts to do such a thing!

Originally Zheng Tan thought the kid just wanted to rob some unlucky guy, extort or blackmail, but evidently Zheng Tan muttered about this person—this clearly was the rhythm of directly killing someone.

The victim also reacted; when the attacker rushed over, he sensed something was off, instinctively dodged, but still got injured in the side waist; normally he would have a better chance to evade, even counterattack successfully, but he had been drinking heavily for several nights, his reaction ability greatly weakened; after the attacker stabbed, he also slammed him hard into the wall, making the back of his head hit it, now his head feels a bit dizzy. He could see the attacker's technique was unskilled, indecisive; likely the attacker also felt some timidity and conflict, but after the first stab, that hesitation vanished, and the second stab was much more decisive.

Seeing the situation, the victim thought 'oh no'; just as he thought today might not end well, the knife-wielder seemed to be kicked hard, staggered and fell sideways.

This brief moment was enough for the victim to find a chance to counterattack; even though his condition wasn't great, he still had experience, so his response remained fairly calm.

After being kicked, the knife-wielding kid realized there were others around, and given the situation he obviously had no chance left, so he took the knife and fled.

Seeing the attacker had left, the victim stood where he was, leaning against the wall, vigilantly watching the surroundings; after looking around and finding no one nearby, he saw the knife-wielding attacker had fled.

Who just helped me?

Although their line of work brings quick money, it also carries risk; being attacked is not a once‑or‑twice thing, injury is common, but Zheng Tan had thought this job would be relatively simple—he never expected that the deeper he looked, the more off it seemed; today he discussed a raise with the employer, and now it seems that the extra amount is still too cheap.

Zheng Tan hid on the second‑floor balcony of a nearby small building, watching that person press one hand to his side waist and pull out a phone from his pocket with the other.

"Hello, Liuba, I'm Jinguī—are you in Chu Hua Shi? … Yes, I've run into a problem here; if you're free, could you help me?" the person said.

"So this guy is Jinguī? Zheng Tan was surprised. This person wasn't helping Yang Bo investigate things—how did he get stabbed here? Thinking back to Yang Bo's expression after his last call at Kai Xuan, Zheng Tan guessed something had changed, the situation had become more difficult; just looking at Jinguī now would tell him."

"Whoever ordered this I can probably guess, but I also want to drag out the guy who did the stabbing." Jinguī looked at his bloody hand pressed to his side waist and cursed: "Damn it!"

After hanging up, Jinguī walked a bit toward the direction the attacker had fled, but seeing so many forks and having just been stabbed, he didn't have the mind to keep chasing, and soon left the area.

At the time Jinguī didn't get a clear look at his attacker. Moreover, the streetlight wasn't very bright. The attacker wore a hood, his face was a large shadow, hard to see; all he knew was that it was a young person. He couldn't pinpoint the exact age. He could only roughly estimate based on the attacker's build and the strong smell of alcohol and tobacco, but even that was limited.

Although Asians don't show age as obviously as Europeans and Americans, domestic middle school students differ noticeably from their overseas counterparts—but that's only a general trend, with exceptions. The kid Zheng Tan had put on his blacklist is such an example: although by grade he's a third‑year junior high student, he has been advised to withdraw, and though he looks somewhat immature, no one would doubt he is ten ** years old; Jinguī finds it hard to imagine that the attacker could be a junior‑high‑school 'kid'.

Zheng Tan saw that Jinguī seemed fairly composed, probably not mortally wounded, the injury not serious; after Jinguī left, Zheng Tan continued toward the direction the kid had just gone.

There were several forks ahead; Jinguī might not know which road the attacker had taken, but Zheng Tan could. Some lingering scents in the air that Jinguī couldn't detect were easy for Zheng Tan to pick up.

Following the scent, Zheng Tan paused at a corner, sniffed carefully, then proceeded.

Over there was a garbage heap, all kinds of foul smells mixed together, yet Zheng Tan still managed to discern a faint trace of fresh blood odor.

Although Jinguī's wound wasn't serious, he had bled, and blood clung to the knife.

When Zheng Tan approached, he saw a hooded sweatshirt tossed in the garbage heap; besides that sweatshirt, he found the blood‑stained folding knife, and the watch the kid had worn, the watch strap also bearing a speck of blood—he guessed the kid found it unsightly and simply threw the watch away as well.

After looking around and seeing no one, Zheng Tan wrapped the knife and watch in that sweatshirt, then hid the sweatshirt in a makeshift shed of odds and ends built by an old residential building; the place looked untouched for a long time, and temporarily leaving it there would go unnoticed.

Zheng Tan didn't know how long Jinguī would take to identify the attacker, so he first concealed these pieces of evidence; since garbage trucks pass by every day, if he tossed them onto the heap they'd be gone by morning.

Because he had rummaged through the garbage heap, when Zheng Tan returned home he still smelled of garbage on his body, with some unknown liquid from the heap stuck to his limbs; he was afraid that if he went back like that, Jiao Ma would nag him again, recalling how she had recently said someone's cat liked to fight stray cats over the trash bin, telling Zheng Tan not to follow suit.

When passing through the community, Zheng Tan used the outdoor pipe to rinse off a bit; the cool water plus the night breeze made him shiver. He'd better hurry back for a hot shower, otherwise he'd likely catch a cold.

Over the next few days Zheng Tan went to Kai Xuan several times; he noticed Yang Bo almost every night went there to drink his sorrows away, sometimes bringing others, sometimes alone. Zheng Tan forced his way in, and Yang Bo, looking at him, didn't say much—in fact he even treated Zheng Tan as the sole suitable listener, yelling at Zheng Tan about his father and certain people.

Once, while Zheng Tan took advantage of Yang Bo's bathroom break, he flipped through Yang Bo's phone contacts and noted down Jinguī's number.

People like Jinguī basically don't have fixed phone numbers; the saying goes 'one shot, change location'—they switch numbers after each job, just like Liuba: the phone isn't fixed, they communicate via email.

Meanwhile, Jinguī was in talk with Liuba, whom he had finally persuaded to discuss help; his phone buzzed, he pulled it out, and seeing the screen his smile faded.

"What's up?" Liuba asked.

Jinguī handed over the phone, saying, "Take a look."

Liuba took the phone; at first glance he didn't pay attention to the message content, but stared at the number consisting of four sixes, his grin widening, "I've taken this job." (To be continued…)