Chapter 729: with translation of chapter title

Eight in the morning, back gate of the City First Hospital.

The specially made prisoner transport van was already in position, its side bearing the characters 'Public Security' and its windows covered with dark film. Six fully armed special police officers stood guard by the van, led by Criminal Investigation Detachment Chief Zhao Qiang.

Liu Shu stood beside the van, his face solemn.

He glanced at his watch, then toward the hospital building: "Chief Zhao, what's Li Hengbo's condition now?"

Zhao Qiang replied in a low voice: "He was just given a sedative; his consciousness is a bit blurry, but he can walk. The doctor said the wound has a slight infection, but he can hold on until Jingcheng."

Without a doubt, the attending physician, like the two officers guarding Li Hengbo, had already been quietly dealt with by Lin Dongfan; the Wu Zhou police simply don't know.

Liu Shu nodded, but a faint unease stirred in his heart.

Last night the Technical Division sent new news—the man nicknamed Blue-Faced Tiger, Wang Hu, had his cell signal last appear at an abandoned factory west of the city.

When the field team rushed there, the person had already fled, but they found a smashed cell phone and an empty wallet on the ground.

Inside the wallet was a photograph.

The photo showed a young woman holding a child, with a line written in red ink behind her: "Last chance." The Technical Division verified that the handwriting matches that in the chat records threatening Chen Dazhi.

This means the person threatening Chen Dazhi and the one who contacted Wang Hu are the same individual.

And what startled Liu Shu even more was that the young woman was someone he knew.

She is Fang Zhenghong's sister; after divorcing five years ago, she has been raising her child alone. Fang Zhenghong is the secretary-general of the Municipal Party Committee; if he too were involved, the waters would be far too deep.

"Chief Liu, the suspect is out," Zhao Qiang's voice interrupted Liu Shu's thoughts.

Liu Shu looked up.

Two officers supported a man wearing a prison uniform, handcuffs and leg irons, his face pallid, as he walked out of the hospital's back door.

The man kept his head down, his steps unsteady, thick bandages wrapped around his chest, faint traces of blood seeping through.

It was indeed "Li Hengbo."

Liu Shu stepped forward for a closer look.

The man lifted his head, his gaze unfocused, his lips cracked, and he let out a few weak coughs. That face was unmistakably Li Hengbo's.

"Get in," Liu Shu gestured.

The two officers helped "Li Hengbo" into the prisoner transport van, seating him in the rear's specially designed seat and fastening the seatbelt. The accompanying medic checked his pulse and blood pressure, then nodded to Liu Shu: "We can depart."

Liu Shu gave one last glance at "Li Hengbo," then turned to Zhao Qiang and ordered: "Depart, follow the planned route, stay vigilant the whole way."

"Yes!"

The prisoner transport van slowly pulled out of the hospital, with a police car escorting it in front and another in the rear.

The three-vehicle convoy drove toward the highway entrance in the morning light. Liu Shu stood where he was, watching the convoy recede, his unease growing stronger.

He kept feeling that something was off.

But he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.

His phone rang.

It was Fang Zhenghong calling.

"Chief Liu, Secretary Li asked me to remind you to make sure everything is safe on the road," Fang Zhenghong said in his usual steady tone—damn, they're all Oscar material!

"Understood."

Liu Shu replied in a deep voice.

After hanging up, he gazed toward the direction the convoy had vanished, his eyes turning cold.

What he didn't know was that the real Li Hengbo was now seated in Lin Dongfan's car, entering another branch of the ring highway.

Outside the window, the sky was overcast, looking like it would rain.

9:05 a. m.

At the highway entrance, the three-vehicle prisoner convoy slowly entered the ETC lane.

The lead car was a police cruiser clearing the way, the middle was the specially made prisoner transport van, and the rear carried the medical escort and backup vehicle. All windows were covered with dark film, making the interior invisible from outside.

In the rear of the prisoner transport van, Lao Ba wore Li Hengbo's mask, his body secured in the special seat.

He slightly bowed his head, eyes half-open, half-closed, imitating the frailty of a seriously injured patient. The gauze on his chest was a makeshift piece by Xu Wenxuan, with a blood plasma pack inside; a light press would cause "fresh blood" to seep out.

Zhao Qiang, sitting in the front passenger seat, glanced back.

Seeing that "Li Hengbo" showed nothing unusual, he picked up the walkie-talkie: "All vehicles, note: we're on the highway, keep distance, follow the planned route."

"Received."

The front and rear vehicles responded in turn, and the convoy proceeded smoothly.

Lao Ba observed the interior through the gaps in the mask.

Besides Zhao Qiang, the driver's seat held a young officer; in the rear were a medical escort and an armed special police officer. The medic was reviewing medical records, while the officer kept his gun gripped, eyes scanning warily.

The atmosphere was quiet.

Only the engine's hum and occasional traffic updates over the radio broke the silence.

Lao Ba silently calculated the time.

According to Lin Dongfan's estimate, if Li Zhenyang were to make a move, the three most likely spots would be the old national highway mountain road out of town, the neighboring province's service area, and the Qinglong Mountain tunnel.

Having just entered the highway, it should still be safe.

But he dared not let his guard down.

The skin beneath the mask had begun to itch and sweat; the silicone material's breathability was limited. He forced himself to keep his breathing steady and move as little as possible.

At the same time.

On another branch of the ring highway.

Lin Dongfan drove a black SUV at a steady 120 kilometers per hour.

In the rear seat, Li Hengbo had already swapped his white coat for an ordinary gray tracksuit, wearing a mask and a baseball cap.

He leaned back in his seat, watching the scenery fly by outside the window, then suddenly said: "You're taking me out alone? Aren't you afraid I'll jump out midway or hijack you?"

Lin Dongfan glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "You can try, but before you make a move, you'd better feel the back of your neck."

Li Hengbo froze, instinctively reaching to touch the back of his neck.

His fingertip touched a bump the size of a grain of rice.

"That's a subcutaneous micro-tracker with anesthetic function." Lin Dongfan said flatly: "Remote-controlled, takes effect in three seconds. Enough for you to experience full-body paralysis before you lose consciousness."

Li Hengbo's face turned pale, and he withdrew his hand.

"As for jumping out of the car..."

Lin Dongfan glanced at the speedometer: "The car is doing 120 now; if you open the door and jump out, your chance of survival is less than ten percent. Even if you miraculously don't die, you'll be turned into mincemeat by the vehicle following behind."

Li Hengbo followed his gaze to the rearview mirror.

Only then did he notice a nondescript silver sedan constantly trailing a hundred meters behind, neither close nor far, like a ghost.

"Is that your bodyguard?" Li Heng asked.

"Nonsense." Lin Dongfan didn't add more: "I advise you to be sensible; better not give me any trouble. Before reaching Jingcheng, you're safe. After reaching Jingcheng, it depends on your performance."

Li Hengbo fell silent for a moment.

Suddenly he cursed and laughed: "Fuck your mother's cunt. Sometimes I really admire you, you bastard—though I hate you to the bone, you still save my life. This feeling of wanting to kill you but being unable to—doesn't it feel great?"

"I think it's pretty great."

Lin Dongfan spoke bluntly: "Once you finish what you need to confess, I'll personally send you to Qincheng Prison. Then I'll apply to be the witness to your execution."

As soon as he finished speaking, Li Hengbo instantly performed a "smile-disappearing act," his expression gradually freezing.

He stared at the back of Lin Dongfan's head, a complex emotion flashing in his eyes—resentment, unwillingness, fear, and even a hint of admiration he himself wouldn't admit.

This man, from beginning to end, always knew what he wanted and what he should do.

Unlike himself, having lived two lives, he constantly lost himself between desire and ambition, ultimately ending up isolated and facing a life-or-death predicament.

"If..." Li Hengbo suddenly said: "If I cooperate with you and have everyone confess, could we possibly get a suspended death sentence?"

Lin Dongfan did not answer right away.

The car entered a tunnel, and the yellowish light flickered inside.

"It depends on how deep your sincerity is." After exiting the tunnel, Lin Dongfan slowly said: "The case involving Duan Xinhua and his son, Su Yuhong's death, your shady assets, and... all your transaction records with James—none can be missing."

Li Hengbo gritted his teeth: "If you can't give me a guarantee of a suspended sentence, I'll either say it or not—it's up to you."

"Don't bargain with me." Lin Dongfan, using their own methods against them, warned Li Hengbo coldly: "Your son Li Hao is only eight. Xu Yaqiu is dead, and you've been arrested—now he's a helpless orphan. Believe it or not? I can snap my fingers and change his whole life."

"You beast! You actually dare to threaten me with a child's future!" Li Hengbo laughed angrily.

Lin Dongfan replied with a smirk: "Isn't this all learned from you? You sent people to mess with my son; by the principle of reciprocity, I'll look after yours—that's only fair."

"Damn!!!"

Li Hengbo spat out a single word in a low voice, closed his eyes, and grief and indignation showed on his face.