Chapter 55: Warehouse, Baseball Bat

Chu Tianshu heard him say that and suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu.

If this were an animated story, that most ordinary little shop would surely be the site of something strange.

And it would happen just as Fang Jun walked inside.

Chu Tianshu simply got out of the car and followed to see what was going on.

Fang Jun ordered two char siu bao, two glutinous rice bao, and two cups of soy milk.

The clerk wore a mask; from her eyebrows and eyes, she was a young woman, swiftly packing the bao with tongs while still pitching sales.

“Today we have freshly squeezed orange juice—each cup comes with two free egg tarts.”

Fang Jun nodded: “Then two of those too.”

Everything was packed into a plastic bag, and nothing strange happened inside the shop.

Chu Tianshu took his share and smiled strangely.

Probably because the city’s atmosphere was so different from the peaceful serenity of his hometown.

It must be why he associated it with a city straight out of an animated film.

Fang Jun drove him down a narrow road, and soon they reached the seaside.

The ground was paved with red bricks, there were public benches, stainless steel notice boards, and willows swaying along the shore.

Sitting on the bench, you could see the sea directly.

Across several hundred meters of water lay another stretch of residential buildings and warehouses.

Chu Tianshu sat on the bench, pulled out a char siu bao, and took a bite.

The char siu bao was as large as an adult’s palm, with a thick but fluffy crust—biting into it didn’t feel greasy at all.

Fang Jun didn’t take a bite first; instead, he tore it open and started eating from the edge of one half.

Chu Tianshu chewed quickly, subtly opening his mouth wider, and in three or four bites, finished the entire bun.

He picked up the glutinous rice bao, and this first bite brought a pleasant surprise.

The glutinous rice inside was savory and fresh, with a texture like a large shaomai, yet softer and less greasy than any shaomai he’d ever eaten.

Beneath the savory flavor, he could taste the fragrance of the rice itself.

“This is good.”

Chu Tianshu said, “This is better than the char siu bao. Let’s buy a few more for dinner.”

Fang Jun said, “Don’t fixate on just one shop—we’re driving around anyway. Eat wherever we end up tonight.”

Chu Tianshu nodded.

Back home, he was used to sticking to two or three favorite shops, but out here, he naturally followed local advice.

He wondered whether Fang Jun, when it came to food, would be as knowledgeable as Meng Shuangjiang.

Chu Tianshu sized him up.

Hmm, judging by his build, Fang Jun’s expertise in food probably amounted to no more than half of Meng Shuangjiang’s.

And he eats so slowly.

Chu Tianshu considered himself a thorough chewer, but by the time he finished and drank his soy milk, Fang Jun had barely finished his first char siu bao.

The willows swayed in the wind, opening up his chest and mind.

Chu Tianshu walked back to the car, picked up the plastic box, and strolled toward the sea.

Yet, the moment the plastic box reached the shore, the spinning silver needle suddenly reversed half its rotation and locked onto a direction.

“Hm?”

Chu Tianshu quickened his pace, strode far to the left, then turned back and walked right.

Finally, he confirmed—the needle wasn’t pointing at the small boats on the water.

It was pointing at a warehouse across the sea.

Fang Jun noticed his odd behavior and walked over with the egg tarts and orange juice to look.

“Over there!”

Fang Jun said at once, “Get in the car.”

The sports car turned a corner, crossed a bridge quickly, and arrived at a low-lying flatland.

The ground had been paved with cement, but it wasn’t level—likely from heavy trucks driving over it, cracking and denting the surface in many places.

The warehouse built here looked old.

Some shipping containers had flaking blue paint and patches of rust.

Chu Tianshu held the plastic box to pinpoint the location, found the right warehouse, circled around slightly, and located its entrance.

On the warehouse’s iron door handle hung a thick green iron chain, about a thumb’s width, unlocked.

Fang Jun walked over; the two exchanged a glance.

They said nothing, but both raised their guard.

Even a lion uses full strength against a rabbit.

Kong Wenju’s recorded abilities weren’t impressive, but caution was still wise.

Fang Jun lowered his right hand, flicked his index and middle fingers outward—two playing cards spun like a fan, appearing between his fingers.

Chu Tianshu stepped forward and pulled open the iron door.

According to safety regulations, warehouse doors typically open outward.

Inside, the warehouse was dim. The moment Chu Tianshu pulled the door open, a baseball bat swung down from the darkness, striking straight at his head.

Thud!!

A blur suddenly struck the bat-wielder’s arm from the side.

Not a playing card—it was Chu Tianshu’s toe.

The speed of his kick was like a thick ox-hide slingshot, stretched to its limit, suddenly released.

His left foot kicked and jerked, never touching the ground—his second strike landed squarely on the man’s chest and abdomen.

The man arched his back and flew backward, the baseball bat still spinning midair.

Chu Tianshu stepped sideways in, reached out with his right hand, and caught the bat.

There were five men inside the warehouse—all young and strong, each holding a metal baseball bat.

There’s a saying: globally, baseball bats are used to hit heads more often than to hit balls.

These bats felt excellent in hand, embodying the beauty of violence.

These men’s minds seemed equally filled with violence.

Seeing their comrade thrown back, the other four still charged forward.

They had been scattered in different positions, with sacks and wooden crates nearby.

Yet as they charged, they instantly lined up side by side, showing clear experience.

Four men shoulder to shoulder, four bats swung outward simultaneously.

From this formation, they must have often applied the truth behind “two fists can’t fight four hands.”

Too bad they picked the wrong target.

Chu Tianshu’s bat suddenly slashed through the air.

The forearms of all four men were brushed by the bat’s head.

Since it wasn’t a direct strike but a glancing sweep, it could brush all four arms at once.

Yet that smooth, edgeless bat head, merely brushing past, left each forearm as if swept by a spiked board.

Each lost a chunk of flesh; blood sprayed.

“Ahh!!!”

Amid screams, the four baseball bats clattered to the ground.

Chu Tianshu had already stepped back, letting the bats fall without touching his shoes.

One step back, then immediately one step forward.

Chu Tianshu’s bat pressed against a man’s throat, his left hand still firmly holding the plastic box.

The man pressed against the bat fell silent, sweat pouring down from his curly, yellowish hair, his face pale with terror, too frightened to cry out.

He felt his hand had just been swept by a circular saw.

If that “circular saw” had swept his neck, he couldn’t even imagine it.

The others, clutching their arms and stomachs, gritted their teeth, faces tight with fear.

“Who are you?”

Chu Tianshu scanned the warehouse, his gaze cold, “Why did you attack me?”

“Wasn’t there an old man in this warehouse? Where is he?”

Fang Jun pulled the iron door wider, letting in a flood of sunlight.

The thugs all flinched from the light, feeling as if Chu Tianshu stood bathed in blazing radiance, making their scalps tingle.

Fang Jun had held back, watching for more surprises—but now seeing only these five thugs, he frowned and pulled out an identification card, waving it.

“Special Task Force investigating a case.”

Fang Jun said, “You attacked the consultant we brought in—that’s a serious crime, do you understand?”

“Think about who would pay a fortune to get you out of this.”

Fang Jun knew well that in these thugs’ minds, the status of peace officers was delicate.

Senior peace officers carried enough deterrent power to intimidate them, yet also provided a degree of protection.

Many things they wouldn’t dare say to other factions’ enforcers, they found easier to speak to peace officers.

“So you’re from the special task force.”

The first one who had been kicked flying got up.

Chu Tianshu’s kick hadn’t been meant to kill—he’d used only a long-range striking force.

But the man was in so much pain he feared his stomach had been ruptured; after a fearful glance at Chu Tianshu, he spoke.

“We’re men under Brother Hong from the western yachts. Several of our brothers have served as your informants.”

“This was all a misunderstanding.”

Fang Jun pulled his sunglasses down, looking up at them with rolled eyes, his face revealing an unsettling expression.

“A misunderstanding? You come at us and start swinging—surely you deserve a spell in jail.”

Fang Jun said coldly, “First answer our questions: Was there an old man here originally? Why are you guarding this place?”

Chu Tianshu’s gaze also swept to the face of the man clutching his stomach.

The man hurriedly said, “It was Brother Yong—oh, Brother Hong’s younger brother. A few days ago, he was ambushed here by an old man, and several of our brothers ended up in intensive care.”

“With nothing else to do, we heard about it and came to lie in wait. If we could help Brother Yong get revenge, we’d earn favor with Brother Hong.”

“We don’t know anything else. I—I’ll take you to see Brother Hong.”

(End of chapter)