Chapter Forty-Two: The Gun

The man pressed his gun against Yuan Xiaoying’s temple, but the bullet struck precisely, passing through his wrist and then into his shoulder, shattering the phone in his pocket.

The gang leader fell backward, blood splattering onto Yuan Xiaoying’s face, hot and shocking her into a daze. Yet she quickly recovered, kicking him hard in the face while cursing, “Damn you, how dare you hit me! Let me show you what I can do!”

Liu Jingye finally breathed a sigh of relief. If it weren’t for Yuan Xiaoying, the scatterbrained hostage, he wouldn’t have been so tense.

Seeing that Yuan Xiaoying wouldn’t stop, even as the man lay unconscious, she kept attacking. Liu Jingye couldn’t help but speak up, “Stop!”

Yuan Xiaoying jumped in fright and quickly stopped, asking in terror, “Who are you? Are you Liu Jingye?”

The question stunned Liu Jingye—should he admit it or not?

“This crazy woman, it’s better not to tell her. If she finds out, she’ll never stop questioning me,” Liu Jingye thought to himself. “Moreover, I was granted special permission to return home because of incurable war trauma. If others find out I’m healthy, it might bring trouble to the commander. People like us aren’t allowed to rejoin society.”

He decided to play dumb for now. Once the trouble with Huangchao was resolved and peace returned, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever contact Yuan Xiaoying again.

After a long silence, Yuan Xiaoying grew impatient, “Hey, who are you? Are you Liu Jingye? My dear husband, if it’s you, show yourself! I never imagined you could be so heroic—you’re my idol! Come out, let your wife give you a victorious embrace and a rewarding kiss.”

“With someone so unruly and mentally unstable, I definitely can’t tell her anything about myself,” Liu Jingye resolved.

He suddenly cleared his throat, changing his voice, tone, and manner completely. “Shut up, one more word and I’ll blow your head off!”

“Huh?” Yuan Xiaoying was petrified, timidly asking, “Who are you?”

“I’m the one who truly intends to kill you.” Liu Jingye’s voice was icy, filled with deadly intent. He could imitate anyone’s voice; his special talent had given him unique abilities.

Yuan Xiaoying trembled all over. Liu Jingye’s cold tone chilled her to the bone. But she couldn’t understand why this person had saved her only to threaten to kill her.

Liu Jingye kept her guessing, slowly retreating toward the door as he interrogated her, “Whether you live or die depends on your cooperation. What’s your name?”

“My name is Yuan Xiaoying,” the girl replied blankly.

“How old are you?” Liu Jingye continued.

“Twenty-four.”

“Height and weight?”

“One hundred sixty-nine centimeters, fifty kilograms.”

“Measurements?” He shot back quickly, hoping to distract her.

“Thirty-one, twenty-four, thirty-eight... Why are you asking this?” Yuan Xiaoying suddenly realized—would a killer really need to know his target’s measurements? Do women with small chests get spared?

At that moment, Liu Jingye had reached the doorway and slipped out in a hurry, thinking to himself, What an odd figure—the lower measurements so much bigger than the upper. Poor girl, A cup and flat-chested!

With no response for a while, Yuan Xiaoying finally realized she’d been tricked and cursed loudly, “Damn it, played me!”

She hurried through the darkness toward the door. Once outside, the streetlights and moonlight restored her vision. The rush of escaping death and regaining freedom overwhelmed her.

Just then, she saw Liu Jingye not far away, waving and shouting, “Take care, stay safe!”

“Hey, Liu Jingye, who are you talking to?” Yuan Xiaoying squinted and yelled.

Liu Jingye seemed startled, turning his head in surprise, “Ah, you’re safe! That’s wonderful. Was it the hero who rescued you?”

“Hero?” Yuan Xiaoying squinted at him. She didn’t believe anyone else was involved—Liu Jingye was the most likely suspect, since the robbers had only contacted him.

But Liu Jingye feigned ignorance, “Yes, I saw a tall, handsome, dashing man carrying a gun run past me. He told me you were safe.”

“Really?” Yuan Xiaoying advanced on him, scrutinizing him from head to toe, but saw nothing suspicious.

“Of course it’s true,” Liu Jingye lied smoothly. “When I got the call saying you’d been kidnapped, I was terrified. Then they wanted something from me—which I didn’t have—so I called the police. The police said they’d send someone, so I guess that hero was a special agent?”

Yuan Xiaoying was confused by his convincing story. Perhaps someone else had really saved her. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he admit it, especially when it was such a perfect opportunity to play the hero?

But she still didn’t buy it. Even if the police rescued her, why would they scare her and ask strange questions before running off?

Liu Jingye remained the prime suspect. Suddenly, Yuan Xiaoying realized something crucial. She softened her knees and threw herself into Liu Jingye’s arms, coquettishly saying, “I’m so glad to be safe. I was really scared—I thought I’d never see you again, I thought they’d assault and kill me...”

Liu Jingye was at a loss, hesitating before finally placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “It’s all over now. With this experience, your police career is even more complete. Hey, what are you doing?”

Liu Jingye was shocked to find the girl searching him all over—Yuan Xiaoying was clearly looking for a gun. The marksmanship earlier had been extraordinary, the bullet passing through a man’s wrist and then his shoulder, clearly from a high-caliber rifle.

Suddenly, Yuan Xiaoying paused, smiling slyly, “What’s this long thing? Is it a gun? Show me.”

Liu Jingye froze, as if struck by lightning, stiff all over as Yuan Xiaoying’s small hand clutched tightly. He managed a bitter smile, “It’s a gun, but it only shoots women and airplanes!”

“So it’s a rifle, after all...” Before she finished, Yuan Xiaoying realized and quickly released her grip, shrieking and running off.

Liu Jingye could only laugh wryly, her squeeze really had hurt.

In a small, nameless restaurant, Yuan Xiaoying ate voraciously, shoveling food into her mouth with no trace of ladylike manners.

“Eat slower, don’t choke,” Liu Jingye couldn’t bear watching.

“None of your business,” she snapped, still embarrassed about mistaking his gun earlier and shooting him a glare. “I’m hungry, I’ll eat how I want.”

“Go ahead, I can tell you’re genuinely starving,” Liu Jingye laughed. “Flat-chested and fierce.”

“Get lost!” Yuan Xiaoying retorted.

Earlier, she’d already called the police to report the situation at the factory, but she concealed the mysterious gunman’s rescue, claiming she’d taken down the criminals herself—her face calm and steady, almost convincing herself.

Liu Jingye gained a whole new understanding of her shamelessness. He suddenly asked, “Why didn’t you mention Huangchao?”

“Why mention them?” Yuan Xiaoying replied in surprise.

“Weren’t you there to find Huangchao? Their thugs attacked you,” Liu Jingye said. “Then you encountered these gunmen.”

“Huangchao had nothing to do with it,” Yuan Xiaoying replied. “I was planning to find Huang Xing, but then my supervisor called and said there were drug dealers hiding in the abandoned factory, told me to investigate. That’s when I ran into those men and got caught off guard.”

Caught off guard—nearly assaulted and murdered? Liu Jingye was speechless.

Yuan Xiaoying countered, “What’s strange is, I don’t know these drug dealers. Why did they force me to hand over something, then make me look for you? Do you know them?”

“So she still hasn’t connected these men to Huangchao,” Liu Jingye thought. “Simple people do live more happily. But her supervisor is suspicious: sent her to catch prostitutes in the morning, got her surrounded by thugs; sent her to investigate drug dealers in the afternoon, got her trapped in a worse situation—and every time, she’s on her own. What’s the supervisor up to? It feels like he’s deliberately helping Huangchao.”

Yuan Xiaoying finished eating, grabbed a napkin, and wiped her mouth with the grace of a noblewoman—quietly, delicately, as if she’d transformed from a beggar to an aristocrat in a blink.

She stretched comfortably, her small foot accidentally brushing Liu Jingye’s ankle. She blushed instantly, fluttering her lashes coquettishly, saying, “Oh, sorry, did I hurt you? Want me to massage it?”

She bent as if about to crawl under the table.

“This girl is crazy,” Liu Jingye nearly jumped up, startled—what was she trying to do in public? “I heard that Ximen and Golden Lotus first met by touching feet under the table.”

Yuan Xiaoying only posed, not actually crawling under the table. Instead, she propped her chin in her hands, gazing intently at her beloved with the look of a lovesick girl.

Liu Jingye felt his skin crawl under her intense gaze, uneasy and unable to explain why.

“Tell me honestly, was the person who fired that shot to save me really you?” Yuan Xiaoying asked softly, hands under her chin, sweet and innocent.

Liu Jingye shook his head, flatly denying it. If this woman knew the truth about him, who knew what trouble she might cause.