Chapter 163: Divine Perception Locks the Enemy, Brick Kiln Terror

Zheng Zeming's final glance, like an ice spear, pierced Li Ping'an's back, leaving it chilled, and for several days the feeling never eased. On the surface he should eat and drink, slack off at work… ah no, work earnestly, but the string in his heart is pulled tight. This Old Fox's Cultivation Level is too deep; with my meager Cultivation Level, a single slip could cause a disaster.

"Brother, why have you been spacing out these two days? The porridge is almost up to your nose," Li Pingle said, holding a spoon and blinking at him.

Li Ping'an snapped back to his senses, wiped his face, "Nothing, just pondering the factory's security." He haphazardly finished his breakfast, "Hurry up, I'll see you to school."

The factory ran as usual, Wang Dahu was still arranging to go for a hot‑pot feast once the award order arrived. Li Ping'an pulled him aside, "Dahu, the Cultural Bureau side still needs more attention."

"Chief, still keeping an eye on it? That Director Zheng's rules swing like a pendulum, nothing worth watching," Wang Dahu said, looking bewildered.

"The more like this, the more it shows there's a problem," Li Ping'an lowered his voice, "A biting dog doesn't bark. Let the brothers stay sharp, focus on the people he contacts, and investigate the background of that Ancient Book Studio thoroughly."

After sending Wang Dahu away, Li Ping'an was still uneasy. Relying only on conventional means, he feared he couldn't get Zheng Zeming's trail. He would have to use some "unconventional" methods.

At night, the Siheyuan was so quiet one could hear a heartbeat. Li Ping'an sat cross‑legged on the heated brick bed, not practicing martial arts but extending his faint yet keen Divine Perception like an invisible spiderweb, strand by strand outward. The Old Locust Tree in the courtyard, the neighbor's snoring, the rustle of mice in the corner—everything within dozens of meters unfolded before his mind like an ink painting. This was a benefit of his transmigration and his greatest trump card. He needed to use this ability to capture any minute, undetectable aura fluctuations possibly linked to Zheng Zeming.

After several days, Divine Perception yielded nothing. Zheng Zeming seemed truly as innocent as water, a Cultural Bureau official. Just as Li Ping'an began to feel discouraged, the anonymous letter arrived.

"Li Ping'an, sealed letter!"

The paper bore a single printed line: "To learn the truth, meet at Yongding Gate Outer Old Brick Kiln at 3 p. m. tomorrow. Come alone."

Yongding Gate Outer Old Brick Kiln! Li Ping'an's pupils narrowed. He immediately summoned Wang Dahu, avoiding the crowd.

"No! Absolutely not!" Wang Dahu's hair stood on end at the news, "Chief, this is clearly a Hongmen Banquet! You can't go! If you go, I'll take the brothers with me!"

"You're not qualified to go," Li Ping'an held him back, "They're coming after me. You station people on the outer perimeter, listen for my signal. Also send someone to keep a close watch on Zheng Zeming's movements tomorrow."

"Too dangerous!"

"Execute the order!" Li Ping'an's gaze hardened, "I know what to do."

The next day, the sky was overcast. Li Ping'an rode his Frame Bike at a steady pace toward Outside Yongding Gate. A mile from the Old Brick Kiln, he quietly released his Divine Perception.

Divine Perception spread like invisible feelers, first enveloping the abandoned brick kiln. Its interior structure, piled debris, and... the vague image of a restless middle‑aged man in a gray Zhongshan suit hiding behind a main kiln brick column—Shen Mo—flashed into his mind.

"Only one person? Doesn't look like an ambush..." Li Ping'an's thoughts just stirred, and his Divine Perception surged outward to scan the kiln's perimeter.

In the left‑side ingredient room, half collapsed, two vague humanoid silhouettes crouched behind a broken wall; one cradled a long, gun‑like object—a rifle!

Behind a weed‑overgrown earthen slope at the right rear, another figure stood, angled like a corner, blocking the kiln's main entrance.

"Sure enough, an ambush!" Li Ping'an sneered inwardly; the number of foes, their positions, even their approximate weapons were already in his grasp. He kept his composure, rode closer, hid the bike, and then entered the kiln appearing completely unguarded.

Inside the kiln, the light was dim and a mildew odor filled the air.

"You've come," Shen Mo stepped out from behind the brick column, his face pale.

Li Ping'an halted, but his Divine Perception locked onto the positions of the three gunmen outside: "I'm here. Who are you?"

"My name is Shen Mo, I was once a student of Zhou Wenyuan..." Shen Mo quickly recounted his identity and how he was forced into this, his tone trembling with fear and urgency, "Zheng Zeming is the real 'teacher'; he's eliminating those who know! This is the evidence I secretly left!" He pulled out an Oilcloth Bag and set it on the ground.

"How can you prove it?" Li Ping'an asked, while sensing the three gunmen outside subtly shift their stances, as if receiving a command.

"I... I can't prove it, but it's all true! Chief Li, I only ask you to protect my family..." Shen Mo's voice quivered with emotion.

At that moment, Li Ping'an's Divine Perception clearly "saw" the gunman in the left ingredient room gently pull the bolt forward, and the one on the right‑rear earthen slope quietly lifted his barrel.

"Ambush! Watch out!" Li Ping'an let out a sharp low growl, and his body, like a phantom, slipped sideways backward using Carefree Step, instantly vanishing behind another sturdy brick column.

"Bang! Bang!"

Two bullets whizzed past his former spot, striking the brick wall with sparks flying everywhere!

Shen Mo was terrified, his spirit rattling, just as he tried to dodge, a third gunshot rang!

His body jolted, blood blossomed from his chest, and he collapsed softly to the ground.

Leaning against a brick column, Li Ping'an's Divine Perception acted like the most precise radar, seeing the three assassins' positions and movements crystal clear. He inhaled deeply, using the feedback to calculate angles and timing.

He raised his hand without looking, aimed at the freshly exposed silhouette behind the broken wall in the left ingredient room, and pulled the trigger!

"Bang!"

"Ah—" a painful cry rang out, mixed with shock and anger.

Almost simultaneously, he sensed the gunman on the right‑rear earthen slope aiming at him and jerked his head back sharply.

"Whoosh!" A bullet skimmed his hair and shattered a brick atop his head.

"Everyone outside, listen! You're surrounded! Drop your weapons!" Wang Dahu's rough voice echoed outside the kiln at the right moment, accompanied by chaotic footsteps and the sound of pulling a bolt.

The assassins inside the kiln clearly panicked.

Opportunity!

Li Ping'an burst out like a leopard; Carefree Step made his figure flicker as he swooped past Shen Mo's corpse, snatched the Oilcloth Bag and slipped it into his chest in one fluid motion. Simultaneously, he fired another shot with his off‑hand, forcing back another assassin trying to aim.

"Whizz! Huh!" the wounded assassin growled.

The rapid footsteps rushed toward another small exit deeper inside the kiln.

Li Ping'an didn't pursue, leaning against the wall to catch his breath. The Oilcloth Bag in his chest was scorching hot. Wang Dahu and his men charged in, their faces ashen.

"Chief! Are you okay? Your ear is bleeding!"

"I'm fine, just a scrape," Li Ping'an waved, pointing at Shen Mo, "Take a look at him."

He then pointed toward the direction the assassin fled, "Give chase, but be careful."

Wang Dahu examined Shen Mo, shook his head, "No breath left."

Li Ping'an walked to Shen Mo's corpse, staring silently. The evidence in his chest was heavy. He brushed his burning ear, watching the fresh red at his fingertip.

"Disband," he said hoarsely, "Take this comrade back."

Leaving the brick kiln, black clouds pressed overhead. He glanced back at the life‑devouring ruin, his gaze sharp as a blade.

Zheng Zeming... in this game of chess, we've just captured a pawn, and now it's time to bring the generals face to face.