Chapter 69: Liu Kuo: Lean on Me and Sleep for a While

Zhou Zhuoyuan was jolted awake by the pain. He had been tied to a seat in a van, his pant leg rolled up as one of the kidnappers sprayed alcohol on his knee.

He struggled on reflex, only to discover that his calf was bound just as tightly with rope.

The kidnapper seated behind him pinned his shoulder. “Bear with it.”

The man didn’t seem intent on harming Zhou Zhuoyuan—in fact, he was kindly disinfecting the wound.

Zhou Zhuoyuan shifted his gaze away from the stun baton lying nearby, his voice weak and slurred. “What do you want?”

The kidnapper’s earpiece flashed twice, but he offered no reply.

Once the knee was treated, he handed the alcohol bottle to the man behind him. Zhou Zhuoyuan felt his fingers gripped, a sharp sting piercing his palm from the alcohol.

These people had no intention of taking his life just yet. They were likely wary of the Zhou Family’s retaliation.

Zhou Zhuoyuan kept his head lowered, his tongue pressing against the locator from the watch he’d removed before calling the police.

The self-defense feature that Zhou Zhuoli had customized was utterly useless. He could only hope they would track him through this device. If they failed to find him—or if the Zhou Family decided to cut their losses—he would have to try something else.

~~~

Pei He watched as Zhou Zhuoyuan’s chat bubble showed “typing…” before vanishing. He resisted the urge to call or send a message right away, but in the time he waited, he had already shrugged on his jacket and stepped out of the dorm.

No new messages appeared even after he left the building. He quickened his pace, his breathing growing ragged. After firing off “I’m coming to pick you up,” he dialed Zhou Zhuoyuan’s number.

“The number you have dialed is powered off…”

Without hesitation, Pei He called Zhou Zhuoli—the contact who had added him after forwarding that red envelope.

At that moment, Zhou Zhuoli was toasting the elders under Zhou Fuxuan’s guidance, exchanging pleasantries all around. Only then did he have a chance to check his phone and reply: Can’t take calls right now. What’s going on?

Pei He: Little Yuan is missing.

Zhou Zhuoli froze for a split second, knocking over the wine glass beside him. Liquor dribbled down onto his pant leg.

Zhou Fuxuan frowned in reprimand. “What was that clumsy nonsense?”

Zhou Zhuoli’s face drained of color as he rose from the table. “Dad, something’s happened to Zhuoyuan. I’m heading out to look into it.”

He made no effort to hide it from the others. No one at the table reacted strangely; instead, they all voiced their concern.

Unable to glean anything further, Zhou Zhuoli ended the exchange, answered Pei He’s call, and left the private room.

He had sworn that Zhou Zhuoyuan wouldn’t come to any harm, dismissing his warnings as the hysterics of a frightened weakling. Yet here, less than a month later, Zhou Zhuoyuan had vanished right under the protection he thought was foolproof.

Inside the room, Zhou Fuxuan’s expression had soured as well. He apologized to the table, then hurried out to make a call of his own—nearly colliding with a server at the door.

~~~

Pei He and the police had traced the surveillance footage to that narrow alley. The red dot on the locator kept moving, so they couldn’t rule out a diversion tactic. They sent only half their team to pursue it.

By late night, even the distant Snack Street had fallen silent, and the alley was pitch-black, impossible to see through. Pei He clenched his teeth. He’d already searched the other route; this was the last one. Zhou Zhuoyuan had to have fled down here.

Sure enough, near the dead end of the alley, they found signs of a struggle—along with blood smeared on a shattered wooden crate nearby.

Pei He’s pupils contracted. He approached the crate and spotted Zhou Zhuoyuan’s phone wedged in a crack.

One corner of the phone was smashed, and it had powered itself off.

Any lingering shred of optimism evaporated. A whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind, but he shoved them aside and got back in touch with Zhou Zhuoli.

~~~

“You just can’t stay put, can you?”

The van had reached the suburbs when the kidnapper fired two shots at the pursuing police car. Realizing something was wrong, he seized Zhou Zhuoyuan’s jaw and forced him to spit out the locator.

Zhou Zhuoyuan coughed up the device, flecked with blood, into the man’s palm. He watched helplessly as it was tossed out the window.

The kidnapper glared at him in fury, looking for all the world like he wanted to throw a punch. His earpiece flashed twice more, and he held himself back.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face was ashen, his stomach roiling with waves of agony. Sweat trickled into his eyes, stinging so fiercely that he squeezed them shut.

A muffled “mmph mmph mmph” suddenly sounded from nearby.

He snapped his eyes open and realized that the figure who had been sitting motionless to his right rear wasn’t one of the other kidnappers.

Had they taken on multiple jobs?

Zhou Zhuoyuan tried to console himself that way—until the faint scent of tobacco wafted over.

It was an innocent bystander he had dragged into this.

He doubled over as much as the ropes allowed, ignoring everything else as he began to dry-heave.

Fortunately, the kidnapper didn’t want a mess in the van and quickly held a bag beneath him.

Zhou Zhuoyuan had no appetite that evening. He ate hardly anything, and later vomited up only acidic bile streaked with blood.

Only when he could retch up nothing more did he slump exhausted against the back of the chair. In halting gasps, he said, “Let him go… and I’ll cooperate… with whatever you want…”

The raspy male voice laughed. “Do you really have a choice?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan laughed too. “How do you know… I don’t?”

The kidnapper holding the bag for him cut off his empty bravado without hesitation. “You don’t.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan truly had nothing up his sleeve—and now the kidnappers had even more leverage over him.

A biscuit was shoved forcibly into his mouth. The raspy voice threatened, “Try starving yourself even once, and we’ll break one of his fingers.”

~~~

Zhou Zhuoli and Pei He raced toward the locator signal along separate routes. Zhou Zhuoli knew his brother had an inexplicable dependence on this roommate, so he hadn’t tried to stop Pei He.

As the distance to the little red dot dwindled, Zhou Zhuoli’s breathing gradually steadied. He decided that no matter what the kidnappers demanded, the Zhou Family would hand it over—at least he would offer his own share.

In the midst of this nail-biting tension, his phone rang, sending a jolt through him.

The little red dot on the screen had stopped moving.

Zhou Zhuoli answered stiffly, only to hear the officer’s grim voice on the line. “They’re armed with guns. And they’ve ditched the locator.”

He nearly lost his composure.

The watch casing and phone were discovered in the same spot. Zhou Zhuoyuan had pried out the locator himself. Zhou Zhuoli shuddered to imagine how the kidnappers would punish him once they found out.

Who could be behind this? If they were targeting the Zhou Family, why hadn’t they made contact with their demands yet?

Zhou Zhuoli’s fingers clenched the phone until his knuckles gleamed white. The gift he had given might end up causing Zhou Zhuoyuan untold suffering. The thought nearly crushed him, but he couldn’t afford to break. He had to save his brother.

He ground his teeth together with an audible crack, hating the kidnappers—and hating himself just as much.

~~~

Zhou Zhuoyuan forced himself to finish the biscuit. It wasn’t just the kidnappers’ threat compelling him; he needed to keep up his strength if he was going to seize any chance to act.

The kidnappers passed him a bottle of water laced with sleeping pills. He passed out soon after drinking it. When he woke, they were locked inside an abandoned factory.

The factory’s windows loomed high overhead, sunlight slicing through in dusty beams. In the faint light, Zhou Zhuoyuan’s gaze fell on the innocent bystander sprawled on the grimy floor.

Liu Kuo?

Zhou Zhuoyuan froze in shock.

Liu Kuo’s face was a mess of bruises, swollen purple and black in places. His hair had been cropped short and dyed black. Still, Zhou Zhuoyuan recognized him instantly—the same punk he’d clashed with for years.

Why had Liu Kuo come to rescue him?

Dazed, Zhou Zhuoyuan pushed himself upright. His hands and feet were tightly bound, his mouth sealed with duct tape. The factory floor was rough, but nowhere near enough to chafe through the thick hemp ropes.

Struggling over, he nudged Liu Kuo awake with a kick.

With no way to speak, the two of them could only stare at each other and mumble incoherently. Zhou Zhuoyuan found it absurdly comical, so he simply lowered his eyes and played dead.

Liu Kuo’s eyes bugged out even wider. He elbowed Zhou Zhuoyuan and kept up the muffled grunts.

A kidnapper shoved the door open at the sound. He ripped the tape from Zhou Zhuoyuan’s mouth, leaving behind a raw red ring.

The man paused for a moment, then went over and yanked off Liu Kuo’s tape as well.

Evidently deciding their mouths didn’t need to be plugged after all, he crammed a bread roll into each of theirs, dropped two opened bottles of water, and turned to leave.

Zhou Zhuoyuan nibbled at the bread cautiously. At last, he could speak to Liu Kuo. “How did you end up here?”

Liu Kuo tugged at the split skin on his lip and hissed in pain. “Wasn’t it you who called me to come save you? I jumped in and scrapped with them. Turns out they had stun batons. You’ve really done me in this time.”

Zhou Zhuoyuan fell silent. After a moment, he said to Liu Kuo, “Lift your hands. Let me see if I can chew through the ropes.”

Naturally, he couldn’t. When Zhou Zhuoyuan spat out the hemp fibers, his mouth was scraped raw, flecked with blood.

Liu Kuo said, “My turn to try.”

He wriggled around to Zhou Zhuoyuan’s back and spotted the thick scab crusted over his palm. His eyes darkened.

He hadn’t gotten far with his attempt before Zhou Zhuoyuan dropped his hands. “Never mind. They’re not idiots. If it could be done, they wouldn’t have left us in here like this.”

He stayed facing away from Liu Kuo, his back no longer ramrod straight as it usually was. “I’m sorry. If rescue comes for me, I swear I’ll make sure you get out safe. And if no one shows… I’ll find a way to get you free.”

Liu Kuo couldn’t bear to see Zhou Zhuoyuan like this—so defeated and listless. The Zhou Zhuoyuan he knew had always been hot-tempered and unyielding. And now, here he was, apologizing in that defeated tone.

“What the hell are you sorry for? Running into you was my own damn bad luck—do I need your apology here? Are you treating yourself like some novel protagonist burdened with massive responsibilities? Am I just the little cannon fodder then? Such a huge face! Let me tell you, I’m the real protagonist!”

If Zhou Zhuoyuan weren’t tied up and unable to move, he really would’ve wanted to throw down with Liu Kuo right then and there.

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s face was ashen with rage, his head pounding from the fury as he enunciated each word: “You piece of dogshit.”

Liu Kuo shuffled right up to him and gaped: “I saved you, and you’re cursing me out?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan turned his head away, his sweat-soaked bangs partially obscuring his eyes, his lips deathly pale.

So Liu Kuo clamped his mouth shut. After a moment, he leaned in and gently nudged Zhou Zhuoyuan’s arm: “How are you holding up now? Is your stomach acting up again? Should I have them send over some real food?”

Zhou Zhuoyuan’s shoulders trembled: “Sorry… I didn’t mean to drag you into this…”

Liu Kuo froze, growing a little anxious: “Hey, don’t cry—I didn’t say you dragged me down.”

“I’m not crying!” Zhou Zhuoyuan snapped, pissed off at him again as he lifted his eyelids to glare.

He really wasn’t crying—his eyes weren’t even red. It was just that he looked in really rough shape, his face terrifyingly pale.

Liu Kuo softened his tone and straightened up a bit: “Just lean on me and rest for a while. I’ll wake you when they come in.”