Chapter 8: Hunt Them Down to the Last Man!

When Chen Pan’er looked up, Yellow Hair feigned a suave air, slicking back his hair and grinning as he squatted down.

“Miss Chen, the rich lady, we haven’t seen you for days. The boys and I have missed you so much!”

Jiang Butong’s expression darkened.

Chen Pan’er’s face shifted; she straightened her chest and, with bitter reluctance, fished two ten-yuan bills from her pocket.

She gritted her teeth, tossed them onto the stall, and glared at Yellow Hair. “Protection money, is it? Here’s twenty yuan. Take it and get lost!”

“Twenty?”

The scar-faced man behind Yellow Hair laughed. “Little rich lady, I guess you don’t know the going rate. Prices are up now—minimum fifty a day!”

Chen Pan’er’s face froze, frustration evident. “At this rate, you might as well just rob people!”

“Heh.”

Jiang Butong couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh.

Yellow Hair and his crew, along with Chen Pan’er, all turned their gaze to Jiang Butong.

He stood up, stretched lazily, and drawled, “Aren’t these guys just openly robbing you?”

Yellow Hair stared at Jiang Butong for a long moment, then nodded his chin toward him and frowned at Chen Pan’er.

“Don’t tell me this kid’s your boyfriend.”

Jiang Butong caught the implication in Yellow Hair’s words, raised an eyebrow, and pulled Chen Pan’er into his arms, looking at him with deliberate provocation.

“What, got a problem if I’m Pan’er’s boyfriend?”

“You—!”

The man with triangular eyes beside Yellow Hair suddenly kicked a stuffed toy.

Yellow Hair frowned, stood up, and slapped him across the face.

A loud smack echoed.

Chen Pan’er inhaled the scent of Jiang Butong’s masculinity in his embrace, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. The sudden slap jolted her back to her senses, and she instinctively pushed Jiang Butong away, wide-eyed as she stared at Triangular Eyes.

“You took the protection money and still dare to wreck my stall? Are you trying to ruin my business?”

Yellow Hair shot Jiang Butong a cold glance, his smile forced and insincere. “Chen Pan’er, you haven’t paid enough… still short thirty!”

“I don’t even know if I can make fifty yuan on my best days. You just ask for fifty like it’s nothing?! And since when did the price go up? Why didn’t I hear about it?”

Chen Pan’er stubbornly protested.

“What, do I have to notify you when I raise the price? Who do you think you are?!”

Yellow Hair’s face shifted, his voice heavy.

Scarface suddenly stepped forward, eyes sweeping over Jiang Butong before settling on Chen Pan’er’s chest; he leered, stroking his chin.

“Little rich lady, don’t get upset. If you really don’t want to pay the protection money, well… there’s another way…”

A cold gleam flashed in Jiang Butong’s eyes.

These scoundrels were plotting something against Chen Pan’er!

She sensed their ill intentions as well, but seeing the twenty yuan pinched between Yellow Hair’s fingers, she still gritted her teeth. “Just say it—what’s your condition?”

Yellow Hair’s expression suddenly relaxed; he shoved Scarface aside and, with mocking eyes, reached out to touch Chen Pan’er’s cheek.

“Spend a night with us brothers. Or kick that pretty boy and be my girlfriend…”

When she heard Yellow Hair’s words, Chen Pan’er was stunned, staring blankly at his greasy face.

Scarface, Triangular Eyes, and the others all leered.

But just as Yellow Hair’s fingers came within a centimeter of Chen Pan’er’s cheek, he felt a sharp pain in his wrist.

He looked up to find Jiang Butong had somehow stepped in front of Chen Pan’er, gripping his wrist and glaring coldly.

“You dare touch our boss?!”

“Finish him!”

“If we don’t cripple him today, we’ll lose all respect!”

As Yellow Hair hesitated, Scarface, Triangular Eyes, and the others drew short knives and steel rods from their clothes, kicked aside the goods on the stall, and surrounded Jiang Butong.

Jiang Butong’s eyes swept the circle of thugs, then he released Yellow Hair’s wrist and instinctively shielded Chen Pan’er.

In his previous life, he had dabbled in ancient martial arts and taekwondo for fitness, but he wasn’t particularly skilled. Now, with his malnourished, frail body, he wasn’t confident he could get both himself and Chen Pan’er out unscathed.

“Give it to me! I’ll cripple him myself!”

Yellow Hair glared at Jiang Butong, grabbed a steel rod from Triangular Eyes, and swung it viciously at Jiang Butong’s head.

“It’s just fifty yuan! I’ll pay you!”

At the critical moment, Chen Pan’er gritted her teeth, shoved Jiang Butong aside, stood in front of him, and with reddened eyes, pulled a blue banknote from her pocket and threw it to the ground.

Yellow Hair narrowed his eyes. Seeing that a crowd of vendors had gathered, he bit his lip, forced a cold smile, nodded at the two, and turned away.

“You two just wait until you leave this street!”

Once Yellow Hair and his crew were gone, Chen Pan’er hurriedly gathered the scattered goods, stuffed them into her tote bag, and dragged Jiang Butong toward home at a run.

Jiang Butong was still puzzled, but after one sentence from Chen Pan’er, he burst out laughing.

“The fifty yuan I gave Yellow Hair is fake—when he realizes and comes back, we’re done for!”

…

Meanwhile, at a street corner some distance from the intersection.

Under the streetlight, Yellow Hair’s face was dark as he examined the fifty-yuan note from Chen Pan’er again and again.

After a long while, he gritted his teeth and tore the bill to shreds.

“Damn it! Gather everyone—if I don’t ruin that woman tonight, I’ll write my name backwards!”

As luck would have it, Scarface, who had just flicked away a cigarette butt, turned and his eyes lit up.

“Boss, look—aren’t those two the lovebirds?”

“Damn! Get your weapons—if we don’t finish them tonight, the Flying Mouse Gang might as well disband!”

Yellow Hair turned, saw the pair, and exploded in fury, yanking out a steel rod as he sprinted toward the street corner Scarface had pointed out.

…

“Are you sure it’s safe to take this opposite route?”

Jiang Butong eyed the crisscrossing alleys around them, feeling a twinge of unease.

For safety, Chen Pan’er had deliberately chosen a route entirely opposite to the way home.

“Don’t worry. Those idiots are probably still waiting for us on the way home…”

She bit into her sausage, proud and defiant. “Those fools dare scheme against me? Hmph, they’re way too naïve!”

Jiang Butong was about to speak when he caught sight of several figures under a streetlamp in the distance. He glanced behind them, and his heart sank.

Not far ahead, under the streetlight, Scarface and seven or eight thugs were glaring at them, panting.

Behind, Yellow Hair was leading a dozen men, quickly approaching…

Jiang Butong laughed bitterly, tossed the tote bag from his back, and tugged at Chen Pan’er, who was still smug.

“Do you know what it means to be caught between wolves and tigers?”

“Hm?”

Chen Pan’er hadn’t understood. She looked up, and her face instantly turned pale.

Yellow Hair, gasping for breath, ran up, grinned menacingly at Jiang Butong, then hurled his steel rod at him with a snarl.

“Beat the pretty boy to death! Save the woman for the brothers to enjoy!”

“Run!”

Jiang Butong’s face darkened; he grabbed Chen Pan’er’s wrist and darted into a nearby alley.

“After them! Chase them down!”

Yellow Hair picked up the steel rod, pointed into the dark alley, and shouted.

A chorus of shouts erupted as a dozen thugs charged after them.

Jiang Butong dragged Chen Pan’er, running until she was gasping for breath.

He glanced back, gritted his teeth, squatted down, and patted his back.

“Get on!”

Chen Pan’er’s face flushed crimson, but the urgency left no room for hesitation. She clambered onto Jiang Butong’s back and instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck.

Jiang Butong had no time to notice the warmth pressed against his back. He looked ahead, bowed his head, and sprinted toward the light.

But as he emerged from an alley, Chen Pan’er’s face went pale again, her pupils contracting. “Watch out!”

Jiang Butong heard her warning.

He had no time to think. Carrying Chen Pan’er, he twisted instinctively, just as a whistling sound cut through the air.

A clang! Sparks flew—a steel pipe crashed into the corner of the wall.

Cold sweat beaded on Jiang Butong’s forehead; had he reacted a moment slower, that pipe would have struck him squarely on the head.