Volume One, Chapter 64: Which Hand Did You Use?

The Maybach sped along the main avenue in the deep of night.

The phone chimed softly.

Just from the ringtone alone, Lou Ye knew it was Sang Wan calling. Without hesitation, he tapped the screen and answered.

Beep.

Beep beep.

The call ended abruptly.

Wrong number?

Lou Ye paused for a moment, then called back.

"I'm sorry, the number you dialed has been switched off. Sorry..."

A cold female voice echoed.

Frowning, Lou Ye hung up and drove straight ahead.

...

In the attic room, coarse, ragged breaths filled the air.

Sang Wan's heart thudded like a drum.

Her hand gripping the desk lamp went from stiff to trembling. When she sensed that Wan Jianye's breath had stopped, she exhaled sharply and shoved him away with all her might.

Just moments ago, Wan Jianye had seemed like an immovable giant.

Now, he collapsed to the floor as soft as cotton.

Her hand, reaching out to check his breathing, shook uncontrollably.

The attic was deathly silent.

It took Sang Wan a long time to come back to herself. She picked up her phone, powered it on, and dialed 110.

"Sang Wan? Sang Wan???"

An anxious voice called from downstairs.

In the distance, faint sirens could be heard.

Sang Wan gripped the edge of the bed, trying to stand, but was unable to rise.

Bang!

Unable to wait any longer, someone downstairs kicked open the courtyard gate and rushed in.

The hurried thudding of footsteps beat like urgent drums, then stopped at her door.

Sang Wan looked up.

In the dim light, Lou Ye appeared like a deity descending from the heavens.

It seemed only now did he realize she had done nothing.

She still wore her nightdress, fresh from washing up.

Facing Wan Jianye earlier, she'd felt no embarrassment, only a desperate courage.

But now, standing before Lou Ye, Sang Wan felt nothing but shame.

Her arms hugged herself tightly; neither rising nor staying down felt right.

She stared at Lou Ye, terrified to catch even a flicker of disgust or annoyance in his eyes.

But there was nothing.

The young man's gaze was steady and calm, like the depths of a tranquil sea.

"It's all right now..."

Lou Ye took off his suit jacket and draped it over Sang Wan, fastening the buttons, then gently embraced her. "I'm here."

The cool scent of cedar filled her nostrils, sinking deep into her heart with each rapid breath.

The tension Sang Wan had held all night slowly eased.

Footsteps gathered outside the door.

Several police officers came straight upstairs. "Who reported the incident?"

"I did," Sang Wan stepped out from behind Lou Ye.

Half an hour later, a crowd arrived at the police station.

Wan Jianye had already regained consciousness, a purplish-red bruise glaring on the back of his head—so striking that anyone who saw it couldn't help but touch their own.

One could only imagine the force Sang Wan had used.

Yet Wan Jianye insisted Sang Wan had seduced him. "Officer, there's surveillance at the alley by my house. Check it if you don't believe me. She's only been living at my place for less than a month, and several men have already come to see her."

"...If she hadn't tempted me, would I have done such a thing? My properties are worth millions once they're redeveloped. I have plenty of chances to meet young, pretty girls—why would I need to force myself on a woman dumped by another man?"

His shameless words echoed through the hallway.

Separated by a wall, Sang Wan's eyes burned red with anger.

She rose to confront him, but Lou Ye grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his embrace. "Go home and rest, Sang Wan. I'll handle things here."

"Lou Ye, I—"

"Hush!"

As if soothing a child, Lou Ye held Sang Wan's wrist and escorted her out of the police station.

At the foot of the steps, beside the Ferrari, Jiang Ke'er waited expectantly, running up as soon as she saw them. "Sang Sister..."

She bundled Sang Wan into the passenger seat.

Then flashed Lou Ye an OK sign.

Jiang Ke'er hopped into the driver's seat and sped off.

As night deepened, Lou Ye's eyes grew cold and ruthless.

He turned and walked back to the police station, knocking on the door of the interrogation room.

The door opened, and Lou Ye addressed the officer inside, his expression gentle. "It was a misunderstanding. We won't pursue the matter."

"See? I told you it was a misunderstanding!" Wan Jianye exclaimed with joy. "Officer, since she's not pressing charges, I'll be magnanimous and won't hold her assault against me either. It's resolved, right?"

The report had claimed an assault, but aside from signs of struggle, there was no evidence of actual harm.

Now, as neither party wished to pursue it, it was deemed a false alarm.

Everyone seemed satisfied.

The officers produced the interrogation records for Lou Ye and Wan Jianye to sign.

Wan Jianye, rubbing the pain at the back of his head, walked out of the station and hailed a cab.

He waited in vain.

A van pulled up beside him.

The door slid open, and two burly, tattooed men stepped out.

"You—"

Wan Jianye barely managed a question.

Agony erupted from the back of his head, and darkness swallowed him.

The tattooed men hoisted him up and shoved him into the van.

The vehicle sped away into the night.

Splash!

Ice water drenched him, jolting Wan Jianye awake. He found himself facing Lou Ye, lounging lazily on a sofa.

The surroundings were pitch black, not a single window.

Wan Jianye's hands and feet were bound by iron chains, suspended in a spread-eagle position.

Any movement sent the chains clattering.

The only lamp hung over Lou Ye's head.

In the dim light, the young man sitting quietly on the sofa resembled a king of the underworld.

The burly men against the wall were so silent their breathing couldn't be heard, almost invisible.

Only now did Wan Jianye realize that when Lou Ye said he wouldn't pursue the matter, he meant with the police.

It dawned on him at last.

He seemed to have messed with someone he shouldn't have!

"Who—who are you?" he stammered, no longer caring to know. "I—I didn't touch her..."

He met Lou Ye's gaze, sharp as a blade.

It was as if he had been nailed to the wall—impossible to pry loose.

Wan Jianye's lips trembled; he could not utter another word.

Lou Ye rose leisurely.

He held a baseball bat in his hand.

Or perhaps just half of a nunchaku.

Lou Ye approached, standing before Wan Jianye.

"Which hand did you use?"

His words drifted like the cool night breeze.

But only Lou Ye knew that each syllable was squeezed through clenched teeth.

"I—I didn't..." Wan Jianye struggled desperately, the chains clattering through the dim room, carrying a biting chill.

With so many people around, Wan Jianye felt a strange certainty: tonight, even if he died here, no one would ever know.

"No, I..."

Bang!

Agony exploded, and his right wrist felt as if it had been cleaved from his arm, connected by nothing more than a thin layer of skin.

For the first time, Wan Jianye discovered that when pain reached its peak, humans could not make a sound.

His muffled denial caught in his throat; he couldn't even breathe.

Wan Jianye's eyes pleaded for mercy.

Lou Ye flexed his neck.

Bang!

Another wave of pain assaulted his other side.

Like a kite with a broken string, Wan Jianye slumped.

In the absolute silence, the sound of something dropping to the floor was particularly sharp.

As if something had fallen to the ground.