Ke Zhengchu gave him a faint smile: “Want to sleep a little more? I’ll keep watch.”
Zhong Nian shook his head.
How could he sleep now?
In the end, though, he was coaxed into curling up on the sofa for a short nap, forcing himself to rest. But after who knew how long, just as Zhong Nian had started to relax, the cruise ship shook with another massive boom.
Zhong Nian shot up like a startled cat, his eyes wide round.
Ke Zhengchu beside him stayed calm and pulled him into his arms.
Another explosion.
The cruise ship let out a massive groan. Zhong Nian watched as the glass on the table fell to the floor and rolled to the wall with a gurgle.
Once enough water flooded in, the ship began to tilt.
He heard the uncontrollable screams from outside. Zhong Nian could not stay calm; his fingers trembled slightly as he instinctively clutched the only person he could rely on nearby.
“Zhengchu, I want to go out and check the situation,” Zhong Nian said, tugging at Ke Zhengchu’s clothes.
Ke Zhengchu disagreed: “Staying here is the safest.”
“But…”
Before Zhong Nian could say more, Ke Zhengchu suddenly drew a knife to shield him. The next second, the door was kicked open with a bang.
Zhong Nian’s small face paled as he looked up to see Zhan Lu.
“Come with me.” Zhan Lu scooped Zhong Nian straight into his arms.
Ke Zhengchu followed close behind.
By the time Zhong Nian twisted around to look during their time in the office, he saw that the cruise ship behind them had drawn much nearer, yet it showed no sign of coming to rescue them.
With so many people on board, were they just going to watch it sink?
Before he could look any longer, Zhan Lu pressed his head against his shoulder.
They made their way to the lower deck, to the lifeboat already prepared for launch. The crowd was jammed and chaotic; everyone wanted on the boat. In the instinct for survival, no one cared about anyone else—they were flushed with anxiety, shoving and trampling.
Some people tried to maintain order, but it did little good.
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
Three gunshots rang out in succession, and everyone fell silent.
Zhong Nian lifted the hand pressing his head and looked up to see the Kidnapper Boss in black beside the lifeboat, gun pointed at the crowd. His presence was fierce and chilling as he barked: “Everyone listen up. Otherwise, no one gets on—no one. We all go down together.”
From the back of the crowd came muffled sobs.
“I don’t believe my dad won’t come save me! He must be on that ship behind, waiting to pick me up!”
Someone else sneered: “Heh, if he was going to save you, he would have already.”
Zhong Nian lowered his eyes.
The reason was not hard to guess.
The cruise ship behind delayed its action precisely to send a message: The hostages held by the kidnappers posed no threat to them. There was no room for negotiation. The kidnappers had to submit, confess, and surrender.
Their own children meant less than the interests and reputation of an entire family. They could abandon them without a second thought.
It was a ruthless move, perfectly exploiting the kidnappers’ greatest weakness.
These kidnappers had never been cold-blooded villains from the start. They could not bring themselves to truly harm innocent lives by “tearing up tickets.” In the end, when things went south, they still prioritized rescuing these hostages.
Zhong Nian gazed at the strangely calm sea under the moonlight, a stark contrast to the chaos on the ship, and murmured: “Did we lose?”
“No.” Zhan Lu chuckled lowly and pointed upward. “Look.”
Zhong Nian looked up and saw several different helicopters approaching from afar, searchlights beaming.
“We tipped off the major media outlets in advance. And here they come.”
Zhan Lu’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm. “Even if these people dominate in their domains, they can’t cover the sky with one hand.”
“We also prepared for the worst—a mutual destruction. There’s one media outlet up there with our own people. If their influence suppresses and blocks the news, the photos they took will be printed and spread nationwide the next day. I don’t believe they can keep it under wraps.”
It was not a particularly clever plan, but it was the only choice when cornered.
“Little Nian, you have to stay safe.” As the line ahead thinned, Zhan Lu held Zhong Nian even tighter.
Zhong Nian’s heart raced inexplicably fast, so fast he could barely catch his breath, his brain dizzy from lack of oxygen.
He did not know where this intense unease came from.
Zhan Lu placed him in the lifeboat—whether by design or not, right next to Jie Wen.
Zhong Nian had no time to respond to Jie Wen’s delight. He grabbed Zhan Lu, who was turning to leave: “Where are you going?”
“There might still be people left on the cruise ship. We’ll check and come back last.”
Zhan Lu smoothed his hair and turned to the stunned Jie Wen: “Take good care of him.”
Jie Wen: “O-Okay.”
Zhong Nian’s gaze followed Zhan Lu as he joined his own people.
Through the window, his eyes met those of several people above.
The four he had interacted with most were all there, gazing deeply at him.
“Little Nian.”
A familiar voice sounded behind him.
Zhong Nian turned to see Zong Xing Yi, Sheng Chu, and Guan Shan Yue.
His scrutinizing gaze lingered a bit longer on Sheng Chu, finding no injuries.