Chapter 72

“Fuck you!!!”

A furious roar erupted from Zhao Rong’s throat!

His heels skidded across the ground as he braked hard for two steps, then leaped forward in a flying tackle!

The veins bulged on the biker guy’s neck as he started to struggle upright, but Zhao Rong’s combat boot ground down onto his throat.

“Damn it! Master, get out of the way! Let me handle him!!”

Shen Li seized the man’s left wrist, wrenched it back sharply, then released it and stepped aside half a pace to make room for Zhao Rong.

The officer who had originally been riding in the passenger seat rushed over as well, working together with Zhao Rong to yank the biker guy’s right arm into a twist lock.

Click.

The handcuffs snapped shut with a crisp sound, but the biker guy still craned his neck, his eyes bulging stubbornly at Shen Li. As he was dragged away, he suddenly choked out a laugh.

“You fucking Shen bastard, you’re dead meat! You’ve ruined my whole goddamn life…”

Zhao Rong bellowed in rage, “Shut your mouth!”

Shen Li said nothing.

His eyelids twitched violently.

In his memory, a youthful, innocent face overlapped with the twisted visage before him.

Thus, Shen Li’s gaze turned ice-cold, as if he were staring at a hunk of dead meat.

Right after that, Zhao Rong and his colleague each grabbed one of the man’s arms, hoisted him up with a burst of strength, and dragged him all the way to the squad car.

Zhao Rong shoved the man inside, then immediately sprinted back to find Shen Li!

He saw that Shen Li had already walked over to the starch sausage vendor, pulled the knife from his shoulder himself, and asked the woman for several sheets of paper, which he used to press firmly against the wound.

The amount of blood soaking Shen Li’s shoulder was downright terrifying, leaving Zhao Rong so panicked he could barely breathe.

“Shit! Master! I’m taking you to the hospital first!”

Shen Li heard the voice and turned his face, his brows tightly furrowed.

Perhaps due to the blood loss, his face was deathly pale, but his expression remained utterly calm. With furrowed brows, he glanced around the surroundings, then eyed the body cam on Zhao Rong’s chest and asked,

“Keep it down—did you bring your police ID?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m fine here. Didn’t hit any arteries. You go show it to the crowd first, disperse them, and explain the situation.”

—The main thing was to clarify that the attacker had been taken away by the police, so no one should spread rumors or let word get out.

With no other choice, Zhao Rong obeyed the order and hurried off.

He made a quick round before rushing back to Shen Li, only to find that Shen Li had already walked to the squad car on his own. One hand pressed his wound while the other clutched a plastic bag—even containing four starch sausages. He offered one to the officer in the passenger seat, who refused.

So he handed the entire remaining bag to Zhen Tian, instructing him matter-of-factly,

“Just say that Zhao Rong and I headed back to the station to handle some business. We might not be back until afternoon. Don’t tell him I got hurt, got it?”

Zhen Tian looked utterly miserable, his gaze glued to the bloodstained T-shirt on Shen Li’s torso, but he answered “Got it” repeatedly.

Hearing the agreement, Shen Li added, “Zhao Rong won’t eat any, so take one for yourself. Give the other two to Qian Xingzhi.”

Zhen Tian: …

Zhao Rong was stunned. He suddenly understood the feeling of frustrated disappointment Shen Li had always shown toward him in the past.

—What the hell, starch sausages at a time like this?!?!

“Master, come on, come on! Let’s get to the hospital!!”

After handing the sausages to Zhen Tian, Shen Li didn’t resist. He smoothly pulled open the back door and climbed in.

Zhao Rong jumped into the driver’s seat, glanced in the rearview mirror at Shen Li’s ashen, bloodless face, and floored the accelerator, sending the car rocketing away.

Shen Li had been holding up fine at first, but once seated, dizziness set in. His breathing grew labored, his ears began to ring, and sharp pain lanced through both legs, becoming harder to bear.

He closed his eyes to rest. Before they reached the hospital, he finally passed out completely.

Zhao Rong panicked hard. After agonizing over it, he respected Shen Li’s wishes and didn’t notify Qian Xingzhi. After all, Qian Xingzhi wasn’t Shen Li’s husband anymore—just his ex-husband. Even if surgery was needed, he had no right to sign off.

Besides, Master had a delicate constitution and couldn’t handle shocks, so it was best not to bother his mom either.

Zhao Rong clutched his phone, ready at any moment to call Shen Li’s mother. He was already mentally rehearsing how to phrase it to minimize the impact.

The doctor announced that Shen Li’s wound wasn’t a tough one—simple stitching and some rest would do the trick.

Zhao Rong’s heart finally settled. He grabbed the doctor’s hand and earnestly implored, “Doc, you have to stitch it up nice and neat. Look how handsome he is—don’t leave him with a scar!”

The doctor shot him a disdainful glance and asked, “Are you his boyfriend?”

Zhao Rong blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

—Where the hell did that come from?

Zhao Rong frowned, then remembered. “Oh! His leg! Doc, check his knee too!”

Just then, the nurse pulled down Shen Li’s shirt. Apart from the shoulder wound, his pale chest bore scattered patches of purple-red marks, suggestive of abuse—

Zhao Rong thought better of peeking and averted his eyes.

But then he reconsidered—no, Shen Li was a guy—so he snapped his gaze back. From a criminal investigator’s perspective, he closely examined the shocking purple-red marks on Shen Li’s chest…

Shen Li’s skin bruised easily, but those marks on his chest…

They were definitely…

All hickeys.

Zhao Rong: !!!

A pang shot through Zhao Rong’s heart as he inwardly cursed, “Son of a bitch!”

In his agitation, he dropped his phone, which clanged against the metal bed rail!

Meanwhile.

Zhen Tian trudged back to the cabin with the four starch sausages, waiting on the second-floor balcony for a long time, but Qian Xingzhi still hadn’t gotten up.

Unable to resist his hunger any longer, Zhen Tian pulled out one sausage and ate it—Shen Li had permitted that one, leaving three for Qian Xingzhi—but even as he savored it, his mind replayed the scene from that morning:

Shen Li’s shoulder drenched in blood, looking brutally painful. His knee hadn’t been bending right either. Who knew if he was okay.

But who the hell was that guy who pulled the knife?

Some social avenger? A terrorist?

What shitty luck. Good thing it was Shen Li— if it’d been some average joe like him, he might be pushing up daisies by now.

Shen Li had said not to tell, but could this really stay under wraps?

So many people had seen it. Someone might’ve even recorded it. If Qian Xingzhi heard from elsewhere, Shen Li probably wouldn’t hold it against him, right?

Zhen Tian mulled it over. After who knew how long,

He heard the lock on Qian Xingzhi’s door click. Qian Xingzhi poked his head out, bare-chested and ripped from the waist up.

Seeming not to see who he was looking for, he started to turn back and close the door.

Zhen Tian called out hastily, “Hey! Brother Qian! Brother Qian, hold up!”

Zhen Tian shouted, while Qian Xingzhi shot him an irritable glare that practically screamed “Scram.”

Not daring to dawdle, Zhen Tian thrust the sausages forward, eager to complete his mission. “This is from Brother Shen for you! See ya, Brother Qian!”

He turned to bolt!

But Qian Xingzhi grabbed his collar and yanked him back, his voice low and menacing:

“Where is he?”

Heeding Shen Li’s instructions to the letter, Zhen Tian dared not tell the truth. “Uh, Teacher Shen and some guy named Liu? Or Li? Wait, no, that Officer Zhao…”

Qian Xingzhi’s thick brows furrowed in extreme impatience. “Get to the point.”

Zhen Tian forced a calm front, stammering, “Oh, Shen Li went into town with some cop.”

Qian Xingzhi’s brows knit even tighter, his gaze sharpening with scrutiny. “What for?”

“Hell if I know! He didn’t tell me!” Terrified of slipping up, Zhen Tian stomped and bolted like a rabbit.

He left Qian Xingzhi standing there, his expression darkening. Bang! Qian Xingzhi slammed the door shut and went to grab his phone. There, he saw a WeChat message from Shen Li:

[Shen Li]: 【Heading out with Zhao Rong. Back by noon】

[Shen Li]: 【If not back in time, cover for me with some excuse. Be quick.】

Qian Xingzhi sensed something off, though he couldn’t pinpoint it. He dialed Shen Li right away.

The call rang forever before being hung up. Shen Li’s curt reply followed:

[Shen Li]: 【I’ll call you】

Just like years ago, during their sham of a marriage, when Shen Li would hang up and ignore his calls time and again.

Qian Xingzhi’s brooding eyes darkened. He didn’t press further.

After a long silence, he sent over some emojis:

[Xingzhi]: 【[Down in the dumps].jpg】

[Xingzhi]: 【[Golden retriever with drooping tail and ears, squatting by the door waiting for its owner].jpg】

Shen Li glanced at the emojis, his face expressionless, and continued to Zhao Rong, “It might not be personal. More likely he was put up to it.”

Zhao Rong paused. “But didn’t you say he got locked up for sixteen years over… your dad’s case? Came out with no job, feeling like his life was ruined, so…?”

Shen Li replied coldly, “Someone who’s been locked up and reformed for sixteen years on reduced time—with rhetoric like that? It’s been coached into him.”

“But who would coach a guy like him?” Zhao Rong tsked, his face darkening further as something occurred to him. “Master, when did your ex-husband stop filming and start digging into this case?”

Shen Li: “Three years ago.”

“Damn, the timeline lines up!”

Shen Li pondered for a moment, his brows unrelaxed. “Personally, I think have Little Ding and the others start interrogating toward Jiang Nan. Once connections surface, pivot to Chairman Shi for leads.”

Zhao Rong went from realization to full understanding. “So you’re saying—they started grooming this guy back when Qian Xingzhi began investigating, to do their dirty work? For revenge on you two…? Nah, doesn’t add up. You were divorced by then. If it’s revenge, it should target Qian Xingzhi. Why go after you?”

Shen Li shook his head and gave Zhao Rong a faint look.

“The bugs these past few days turned up nothing. I suspect… this guy’s one of the patsies they’re using to frame Jiang Nan.”

“Like, coaching him to lie after he’s nabbed?”

Shen Li said vaguely, “Not necessarily. Interrogate first. Bound to break somewhere.”

“Got it! Yes, sir! Your call, Master!” Zhao Rong fell back into old habits, instinctively following Shen Li’s lead. Just then, Shen Li’s phone screen lit up again with a WeChat notification.

The name [Xingzhi] stood out bold.

Shen Li didn’t hide it. He unlocked the phone, glanced at Qian Xingzhi’s latest emoji:

[Xingzhi]: 【[Good doggy pining alone at home, gazing longingly~].jpg】

Shen Li’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly. Only then did he remember that the screen protector he’d put on half a year ago wasn’t a privacy film. He flipped his phone face down and mercilessly powered off the screen.

Zhao Rong didn’t understand what was going on, but the sight left him deeply shocked.

Incidentally, he recalled what he’d glimpsed earlier—those bite marks covering Shen Li’s chest from when he’d been unconscious and had his wounds cleaned. Zhao Rong didn’t dare ask or even mention it. Instead, he simply said, “Uh, Master… so what are you gonna do now?”

Shen Li looked at him oddly. “Do about what?”

“Are you heading back soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Holy crap, you’re going back to keep filming this afternoon?!” Zhao Rong exclaimed in shock.

“It’s fine. It’s just a scrape on my shoulder. As long as I don’t stand up and move around.”

“That’s still no good! You need to rest!” Zhao Rong glared at him, growing a bit angry. “If you keep this up, I’ll mutiny! I’ll tell the Grandmaster!”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Shen Li arched a brow at him, his gaze turning icy and menacing. “What Grandmaster? We’re divorced.”

Zhao Rong: “—Holy crap?!”

Zhao Rong wanted to point out that with his chest covered in hickeys courtesy of his ex-husband, his master really didn’t have much room to talk.

But Shen Li was thin-skinned, and he was still his master, after all. Zhao Rong had to save him some face.

Then Shen Li continued, “We can’t afford any more incidents on this program before the suspect is formally arrested. Qian Xingzhi is a very impulsive man. If he found out what happened today…”

Zhao Rong got the point and could only nod, though his chest felt a little stuffy.

Before leaving, he still couldn’t hold back and asked Shen Li, “Is there really such a thing as karma? If there is, why do good people always get hurt while the wicked thrive?”

Shen Li paused.

Shen Li pondered for a long moment, looking at his beloved disciple through the eyes of a staunch materialist atheist. “You know I don’t believe in gods.”

Zhao Rong scratched his head and slapped his thigh with a pout. “All right, all right. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Just then, Shen Li’s calm gaze took on a rare, distant emptiness.

Zhao Rong knew full well how stubborn his master could be, so he didn’t press the discussion further. Once Shen Li’s blood transfusion was finished, Zhao Rong personally called a car for him, set the destination, and escorted him back to the program’s daytime task assembly point.

But on the ride back, Shen Li thought the whole way:

He didn’t believe in gods, but for over a decade, he’d made the same wish blowing out birthday candles: If only Sun Junhui could get the death penalty and be executed immediately—now it seemed that wish might actually come true.

Meanwhile.

Having reflected deeply on the matter, Zhao Rong sighed and decided to send a WeChat message to Qian Xingzhi anyway.

[Zhao Rong]: [Grandmaster, my master’s leg seems to be hurting a bit. Keep an eye on him and don’t let him do any heavy work.]

That was all he could do—now it was up to Qian Xingzhi’s perceptiveness.

–

When Qian Xingzhi received the message, he saw red.

Even his sausage lost its appeal.

After rigorously analyzing why Shen Li had bought exactly three of them—a strangely specific number—Qian Xingzhi realized the gravity of the situation.

Perhaps at first, those three weren’t meant just for him. But then something happened, and they couldn’t even eat.

What kind of emergency could that be?

Qian Xingzhi’s expression grew darker. During lunch, while the entire program group dined at Xitulan Ya Restaurant near the warehouse—with only a few scattered staff prepping camera positions—the stuffed and fuming Qian Xingzhi stood guard at the entrance. He eyed the only road leading to the warehouse like a grumpy security guard ready to intercept every delivery rider.

His peach-blossom eyes narrowed coldly as he watched vehicle after vehicle pass by.

He didn’t know how long he waited.

Finally, a black Nissan pulled up to the roadside. His Shen Li emerged from the back seat.

Shen Li forced himself to take a couple of slow steps before spotting him at a glance. His expression blank, he came to a halt.

Pretending to be fine, huh?

Qian Xingzhi didn’t go to him. Instead, he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, face stern, aura overbearing.

But to Shen Li…

The man actually looked a bit like one of those memes—the dog with drooping tail and ears, waiting eagerly for its owner to return.

Shen Li seemed to feel the pressure and pondered how to break the ice.

In the next instant, Qian Xingzhi charged forward like an arrow, scooping Shen Li up into a bridal carry and striding off.

Shen Li glanced toward the distant cameras, his voice low. “You’re asking for it, Qian Xingzhi!”

“Hmph.”

Hearing Shen Li use his full name, Qian Xingzhi’s cold voice carried a soft chuckle. “Here I am. What’s up?”

Shen Li paused.

Keeping his voice low, Shen Li issued a stern command. “Put me down.”

But Qian Xingzhi seemed to have lost his mind. Far from complying, he scowled darkly and quickened his pace, ignoring all the stares as he carried Shen Li down two or three alleyways. Only then did he kick open a half-closed door and deposit Shen Li onto a soft sofa.

He caught the faint scent of blood on Shen Li’s body, which only soured his mood further.

Ignoring Shen Li’s expression, he cut straight to the chase. “Where’d you go?”

Shen Li turned his face away.

Qian Xingzhi asked again, “Who’d you meet?”

Shen Li stayed silent.

Qian Xingzhi pressed, “Where are you hurt?”

Shen Li’s brow furrowed slightly. He shot a cold glance, about to speak, when Qian Xingzhi’s brows knit tightly in irritation. “Why do you always clam up? You treating me like the enemy Japanese?”

“…Get lost.”

“Oh, not that?” Qian Xingzhi laughed coldly in anger. “So you wanna save your mouth for kissing me instead?”