Chapter 18

In Unit 1, Room 302 of Building 5, Fenglin Garden Community, Liu Baoshan stared intently at a transportation map of Zizhen City, in the two-bedroom apartment owned by Zhang Hongyu.

He had been in Zizhen City for over three months, staying indoors during the day and wandering around the dance halls, billiard rooms, and ice rinks near the Yinzuo Building at night. To outsiders, he appeared as a lazy idler, but while pretending to roam aimlessly, he quietly inquired about the wealthy residents of Zizhen City.

After a month of circling, he finally figured it out: the richest person in Zizhen City was Jiang Yuanqi, the owner of the Yinzuo Building—the first tycoon in Zizhen to earn the title “Jiang Millionaire.”

Liu Baoshan was a ruthless man; at only thirty-five, he had spent over a decade intermittently in prison since the age of seventeen, and his time outside had been few and far between.

This time, after his release, he deliberately chose to leave Northeast China and randomly ended up in Zizhen City, located in Nanjiang Province inland.

He knew that for someone like him, a fugitive criminal, it was best to leave no patterns or habits for the police. He himself wouldn’t even know where his next crime would be. For safety, he decided to act alone this time.

To finish quickly, he studied Zizhen City’s roads in depth. Since choosing Jiang Yuanqi as his target, he had repeatedly planned escape routes, conducted multiple on-site surveys of surveillance at intersections, and analyzed Jiang Yuanqi’s travel patterns.

A week ago, he decided to get a gun first, because he noticed Jiang Yuanqi was cautious—perhaps due to years of business conflicts—and always had two large men accompanying him; he had never been seen alone.

Liu Baoshan knew that although he was brutal, he couldn’t knock down two big men in two or three seconds and silently kidnap Jiang Yuanqi. He needed something powerful—and a handgun was the best choice.

But how could he get a gun? Buy one? He didn’t have that much money—he couldn’t even pay his water and electricity bills, let alone afford a gun.

The only option was to steal one.

A bandit’s thinking was indeed different from normal people’s. This method was risky, but fast and cheap. He acted immediately. Sitting in the room, he pulled out the map he knew by heart, preparing to stake out the nearest police station and attack any lone officer carrying a firearm.

At that moment, Liu Baoshan didn’t know that an armed police officer stood outside the door.

“Tap tap tap!” While studying the map, Liu Baoshan heard knocking. He assumed it was the property management coming to collect fees, so he stayed silent, pretending no one was home.

After waiting a while, the knocking came again. Then, a young man’s voice reached the door: “Mr. Zhang, I’m the landlord. If no one’s home, I’ll let myself in.”

Zhang Hongyu wasn’t sure if anyone was inside, but he had his keys with him and wanted to check the apartment’s condition. After waiting a while and receiving no response, he pulled out his key to unlock the door.

Just then, the door creaked open, revealing a thirty-something man with black-rimmed glasses and a square head and big ears. In that instant of eye contact, Zhang Hongyu felt a sudden chill.

“This man’s eyes are too cruel!” was Zhang Hongyu’s immediate thought. Before he could speak, the man smiled and said, “Sorry, I fell asleep in the back room and didn’t hear you. Oh! You’re the landlord! What’s up?”

The man spoke with a strong Northeastern accent. Seeing the man was polite, Zhang Hongyu smiled back: “Yes, I’m the landlord. The property management said they couldn’t reach you. When you’re free, go pay your water bill at the office—it’s summer, and if they cut off the water, it’ll be inconvenient, right?”

As Zhang Hongyu spoke, Liu Baoshan kept staring at him. Hearing this, he chuckled apologetically: “Oh, sorry to trouble you! I’ll pay right away. No worries—I won’t let it go unpaid.”

Zhang Hongyu smiled again: “Alright then, I won’t disturb you anymore. Rest up. I’m leaving!” He turned to go downstairs, but just as he took two steps, before reaching the stairs, Liu Baoshan called out: “Wait!”

Zhang Hongyu turned back, watching him warily without speaking. Liu Baoshan immediately smiled: “Brother, if it’s convenient, could you take this money down and pay it for me? I stayed up all night yesterday, and my memory’s always bad—I might forget again, and that’d be embarrassing. You think that’s okay?”

Zhang Hongyu thought for a moment: “Fine. Then hand me the money. Do you know how much it is?”

“Yeah, I know. Come in and sit down. My wallet’s in the back room—I can’t have you wait outside. Besides, you’re already here, might as well take a look. See how well I keep my place, right?”

Ever since first seeing this tenant, Zhang Hongyu had felt something off, though he couldn’t say what. He’d planned to deliver the message and leave, but now the man asked him to pay the bill. On one hand, he wanted to get it over with quickly; on the other, he wanted to check if the tenant was doing anything illegal inside—this second thought likely stemmed from his professional habits.

Hearing this, he stepped inside. Liu Baoshan stepped aside to gesture him in, placing Zhang Hongyu directly in front of him.

Zhang Hongyu nodded politely, took two or three more steps forward, and now stood over a meter from the door. He was about to move further in when suddenly a cold sensation prickled the back of his head. He had already been wary of this man—now, with this feeling, he immediately turned, his right hand instinctively reaching for his waist.

But before he could turn around, the corner of his eye caught a flash of blinding steel—a knife leaping from the square-faced man’s hand, swift as lightning, thrusting without hesitation toward his throat.

“Slish!” Zhang Hongyu felt a cold stab pierce his body. Before he even registered pain, another “slish!” echoed in his ears. In the instant the knife pierced his neck, Liu Baoshan yanked it out and plunged it again—this time straight into Zhang Hongyu’s heart.

Zhang Hongyu didn’t feel pain—only darkness flooding his vision, as if the warmth inside him were a dam bursting, gushing out his life force.

Yes, blood now gushed hotly from the wounds in his neck and chest.

Liu Baoshan calmly wiped the blood from his knife with his sleeve, watching Zhang Hongyu collapse to the floor, his mouth opening and closing like a dying fish, silent. He treated the killing as if it were nothing more than slaughtering an animal, wiping the blade as he murmured softly: “Brother, don’t blame me—it’s your fate. Blame the thing you were carrying. It got you killed. Enough. Accept it. It won’t hurt much—I hit both spots perfectly. Look, this is your place anyway. Rest easy here.”