Chapter 746: Forcing Li Zhenyang Back

Gang Dao, Shallow Water Bay Villa.

Li Zhenyang sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the living room, holding a cup of long-cold Dragon Well tea. Outside the window was a sapphire bay, yachts dotting it, the sunshine bright and glaring.

But none of this had anything to do with him.

Three days.

He had fled Wu Zhou for Gang Dao, a full three days now.

During these three days, he changed residences four times, used three false identities, yet still felt a pair of eyes watching him from the shadows.

The laptop screen on the coffee table was lit, displaying the login interface of Gang Dao Bank's account.

For the thirteenth time he entered the password, receiving the same icy prompt: the account has been frozen; please contact your customer manager.

Damn it!

Li Zhenyang slammed his fist on the table, knocking over the teacup; tea streamed across the expensive rosewood surface.

All overseas accounts, without exception, were frozen. That guy Lin Dongfan meant what he said, cutting off all his retreats.

The phone vibrated.

Li Zhenyang glanced at it; it was a local Gang Dao number.

He hesitated a few seconds, then answered.

"Boss Li, I'm A Wei." A hoarse male voice came from the other end: "The cash you want is ready, but there's a problem..."

"What problem?" Li Zhenyang's heart tightened.

"The amount is too large—five million USD in cash. Checks are strict now. Our boss says we have to add a thirty percent processing fee."

Thirty percent?

One and a half million USD?

Li Zhenyang's face turned ashen: "You're taking advantage of the fire to rob!"

"Boss Li, you can't say that." A Wei laughed: "What's the situation now? You know it better than we do. Over on the mainland they've issued a red notice; all the money changers in Gang Dao have gotten wind of it. Us taking your order is already a huge risk. Thirty percent, not a cent less."

"When can I get the money?" Li Zhenyang asked through clenched teeth.

"Tonight at ten, Sai Kung Pier, the usual spot." A Wei said: "Cash transaction, only you can come. Remember, just you."

The phone hung up.

Li Zhenyang gripped the phone, his palms slick with cold sweat.

Five million USD, minus the fee leaves three and a half million. This sum won't last long, but at least it could let him hide awhile longer, figure out a new identity, and leave Gang Dao.

The question is, could this be a trap?

Does Lin Dongfan have any connections in Gang Dao? Or has he already set his sights on these underground lenders?

Li Zhenyang paced in the living room, his mind racing.

Going could mean walking into an ambush.

Not going would leave him truly penniless, unable to survive.

Outside on the water, a white yacht glided past. On its deck, a few young people raised champagne glasses, laughing, carefree.

Li Zhenyang stared at the yacht, suddenly recalling many years ago when he held sway over all. Back then he too had been full of vigor, thinking he could control everything.

And now?

Like a stray dog, he hid in a villa in Gang Dao, not daring to step outside.

The phone rang again.

This time it was an encrypted text with just one line: "We know your son's address in Canada. Secretary Li, it's time to make a choice."

The sender was unknown.

But Li Zhenyang knew who it was.

It was Lin Dongfan!

Lin Dongfan was doing this to force him back.

Using his son's safety to force him into a compromise.

Li Zhenyang's fingers trembled. He had three children: his second daughter Li Shuting was dead; his eldest daughter Li Shuqin should have been arrested, and they hadn't been able to reach her these days. Now only his son Li Shuwen remained, his sole bloodline. Shuwen was just nineteen, studying at university in Vancouver, knowing nothing of domestic affairs.

If Lin Dongfan really made a move……

No, it wouldn't.

Li Zhenyang forced himself to calm down. Lin Dongfan wasn't that sort of person; he wouldn't lay hands on an innocent child. This was just to scare him.

But what if?

What if Lin Dongfan really had gone mad, or his subordinates acted on their own……

Li Zhenyang wouldn't gamble on it.

He picked up the phone and called back the encrypted number.

It rang three times, then connected.

"Lin Dongfan, what the hell do you want?!" Li Zhenyang shouted hoarsely.

From the other end came Lin Dongfan's calm voice: "Secretary Li, I'd like to ask you to come back."

Li Zhenyang asked, smiling through anger: "Come back to wait for death?"

"Come back to face what you must face." Lin Dongfan emphasized calmly: "Your son is innocent; I won't touch him. But if you keep hiding, I can't guarantee others won't have designs on him. You should know how many people want you to stay silent forever."

Li Zhenyang fell silent.

He knew Lin Dongfan was telling the truth.

Too many people were implicated in that list; some would do anything to save themselves. In Gang Dao he wasn't safe, and might even be more in danger than if he went back.

"Give me a reason to go back." Li Zhenyang said.

"Reason?" Lin Dongfan chuckled: "Secretary Li, do you still have the standing to bargain? You have only two choices—either come back voluntarily and strive for a decent ending, or wait for me to send people to 'fetch' you back, at which point things won't be so pleasant."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm reminding you." Lin Dongfan's voice turned cold, and this time he called him by name directly: "Li Zhenyang, your daughter Li Shuting is already dead; do you still want to drag your son into this vortex? Come back, settle what needs to be settled, and at least you can keep your son safe."

Check: we used Lin Dongfan, Li Zhenyang, Li Shuting. Good.

Along silence.

Li Zhenyang looked out at the sea beyond the window, suddenly laughed, a bleak laugh.

"All right, I'll go back." He pleaded weakly: "But you must guarantee that my son won't be implicated in any way."

"I guarantee it."

"When?"

"Tonight, I'll arrange for someone to pick you up at the Lo Wu checkpoint."

The call ended.

Li Zhenyang slumped onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling, his eyes empty.

It's over.

Everything is over.

But he had no choice.

At least, he could still save his son.

At the same time, a villa in the western suburbs of Jingcheng.

Lin Dongfan put down his phone and said to Lao Ba sitting opposite: 'Make the arrangements—tonight, have someone meet at the Lo Wu checkpoint. Keep it low-key; don't alert the media.'

"Understood." Lao Ba nodded: "But will Li Zhenyang play tricks? He might just be pretending to agree while actually planning to flee elsewhere."

"He won't." Lin Dongfan said: "I've checked—his overseas accounts are all frozen, and the cash on him won't last more than a few days. I've also greeted the underground lenders; no one dares take his business. He's truly at the end of his rope."

Lao Ba looked admiringly at Lin Dongfan: 'Master Fan, this move of cutting off the fuel supply is ruthless.'

"When dealing with someone like Li Zhenyang, you can't show mercy." Lin Dongfan walked to the window, his tone icy: "His hands are stained with so many lives; he owes an accounting."

"What about Xu Jijun..." Lao Ba started to speak but hesitated.

Lin Dongfan fell silent for a few seconds.

"The death of Xu Jijun, I will get to the bottom of it." He said slowly: "But not now; the top priority right now is to take down Li Zhenyang and completely wrap up this game in Wu Zhou."

"Understood."

Lao Ba turned and left the study.

Lin Dongfan stood alone by the window, gazing at the distant city's outline.

Dusk was approaching.

The skyline was dyed a gold‑red hue.

This months‑long game was finally about to reach its end.

Nine o'clock at night.

Sai Kung Pier, Hong Kong Island.

Li Zhenyang wore a black tracksuit, a baseball cap and a mask, jogging along the pier like an ordinary night runner.

He carried a sports bag containing the last of his cash and a fake passport.

The meeting place Ah Wei mentioned was Warehouse No. 7, the most secluded spot on the pier; the lighting was dim, and the area was piled with discarded fishing nets and wooden crates.

Li Zhenyang stopped fifty meters from the warehouse, warily observing his surroundings.

It was too quiet.

Not a soul was on the pier—not even the usual night anglers. Only the monotonous, dull sound of waves lapping the embankment.

Something was off.

Li Zhenyang turned to leave, but footsteps sounded behind him.

"Mr. Li, you've come all this way—where are you going?"

Ah Wei stepped out of the shadows, four burly men behind him. They were all holding weapons—not knives, but guns.

Li Zhenyang's heart sank to the depths.

"Where's the money?" Li Zhenyang asked, forcing himself to stay calm.

"Money?" Ah Wei laughed: "Mr. Li, do you really think we're running a charity? Everyone in Hong Kong knows you're wanted; who would dare deal with you now?"

"You want to black‑mail each other?" Li Zhenyang gritted his teeth.

"It's not black eating black, it's carrying out Heaven's will." Awei pulled out a gun, aiming at Li Zhenyang: "Someone's paying a high price for your life. Sorry, Boss Li."