Chapter 4: The Central Park Murder Case (4)

When the two of them entered, Zhong Yuyu's gaze was nothing she hadn't seen before. Over the years, every lecher she'd sent flying with a single kick had been wealthier than Zhong Yuyu. With her family background, how could the richest man in a mere city ever catch her eye? Especially at his age—Zhong Yuyu was hardly the main course anymore; he couldn't even pass as an aperitif.

"You... you two..." Zhong Yuyu clutched his chest, nearly having a heart attack right there from sheer rage. If he hadn't kept himself in decent shape into his thirties, Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan's words alone might have finished him off.

"Careful with those breaths! Don't go keeling over all at once!" Wu Zui, watching Zhong Yuyu struggle to breathe, twisted the knife a little deeper.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crash of glass breaking downstairs.

Not long after, footsteps sounded below. Aside from the three of them, the only other person downstairs was a butler who had fainted from fright. Even if the man had come to, he wouldn’t risk coming upstairs in plain sight—he’d either play dead or make a quiet escape.

Given the sound of shattering glass, the only one who could be coming up had to be Yan Junhao. Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan kept their guns trained on the top of the staircase, silently waiting for Yan Junhao to arrive.

"Would you two upstairs be so kind as to toss Zhong Yuyu down here for me? I only want to kill him. Once I’m done, I’ll leave without harming you. I even let the butler downstairs run off." The footsteps halted, and a rough male voice called up, tinged with a hoarse edge.

"You liar! You must have killed the butler already. After all the people you’ve murdered, what’s two more upstairs? And you, pining after that whore Song Shuxian—pathetic! Even if she was just someone I used and left behind, you think you deserve her, you loser?" Zhong Yuyu shouted before Wu Zui or Xiao Keyan could answer, trying to provoke Yan Junhao into storming up and getting himself killed by their guns.

Though neither Wu Zui nor Xiao Keyan had any intention of throwing Zhong Yuyu downstairs, his words were grating. If Yan Junhao wasn’t level-headed, he might have been goaded into a reckless attack. And if Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan failed to take him out instantly, a firefight in the narrow upstairs hallway would ensue—a far cry from the spacious ground floor. In such close quarters, the odds of ricocheting bullets would skyrocket. At that point, survival would come down to luck and fate’s favor.

"Don’t bother trying to provoke me, Zhong Yuyu. Your butler is waiting by the front door. I told him if he tries to run, as long as I make it out alive, I’ll find him myself for a little chat." The man's voice below now held a sly, malicious amusement.

He knew well enough that charging upstairs would be a gamble. If he could negotiate, all the better—he had to escape quickly after his business here, after all. He had no desire to die for scum like Zhong Yuyu. Once the job was done, he’d be gone, plenty of time left to spend with his own child.

"Check the front door," Wu Zui signaled to Xiao Keyan with his eyes, handing her a compact mirror.

Using the mirror’s reflection, Xiao Keyan peered outside and exclaimed in surprise, "Master, the butler really is standing at the door!"

"You two detectives, you can’t just stand by and watch me die!" Zhong Yuyu, realizing Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan were conferring, put on a pitiful expression, terrified they’d throw him downstairs—since, indeed, that would be the most expedient solution for both sides.

"Detectives? What are you doing here? Even if you caught Zhang Qiang, he wouldn’t have ratted us out! How did you find us so quickly?" Yan Junhao’s voice was thick with shock. In his plan, even if the police tracked them, it would take days—by then, he’d have killed his target and slipped away.

"How we found you isn’t your concern. What I’m curious about is—why do you want Zhong Yuyu dead? Don’t tell me it’s because he stole your girlfriend? It’s been two years—why wait until now for revenge?" Wu Zui feigned curiosity, stalling for time, though he’d already pieced the story together. A so-called ‘aristocratic family’—at least by local standards—family feuds and some sordid, tangled affairs had culminated in today’s bloodshed.

"Because of Song Shuxian? As if! If you hadn’t stolen my wife and child, would I have ended up like this? I just don’t want my child’s future ruined by a pair like you!" Yan Junhao’s voice was fierce, but in reality, he was already holding two cell phones, using the speaker to broadcast his words while he himself crept through a service corridor to the adjacent servants’ quarters.

Zhong Yuyu appeared unfazed, clearly aware that Song Shuxian’s child was not his own. Still, Xiao Keyan couldn’t resist twisting the knife: "So, Zhong—he means you’ve been cuckolded!"

Zhong Yuyu’s face darkened, but for the sake of his life, he swallowed the insult.

"What’s wrong with adopting a child? Why say I stole your child? Do you have any proof? You must be stalling for time to make your move! Tell me—who sent you to kill me?" Suddenly, Zhong Yuyu remembered that, for security, he’d installed surveillance in the elevator, stairwells, and every room.

If he let slip anything incriminating and the detectives got wind of it, he’d be in trouble for any past murders, and prison awaited him regardless of his wealth. Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan didn’t look like people who could be bought off.

It only reinforced how useless his hired help had been—how could someone get in with all the surveillance?

Yan Junhao paused; indeed, he was stalling for time, and he was nearly ready. He hadn’t expected Zhong Yuyu to guess his ploy out loud.

Before Zhong Yuyu could press further, Yan Junhao’s voice sounded from the phone downstairs: "Dr. Mo, the one who did the C-section for my wife—you haven’t forgotten her, have you? I have her recorded testimony and her confession!"

Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan both looked at Zhong Yuyu. Xiao Keyan’s eyes gleamed with the fire of gossip, bright and mischievous.

"Missions with this kind of drama—today is really entertaining!" she thought gleefully.

"What doctor! What C-section! You must have bribed her to say whatever you wanted! Detective Wu, let’s just kill him now!" Zhong Yuyu, stubborn as ever, tried to goad Wu Zui into shooting Yan Junhao.

"It’s fine! Let’s keep him talking." Wu Zui, calculating that backup would be there soon, refused Zhong Yuyu’s request.

"Detective Wu is right, let’s chat a bit longer. The second time you saw her, you made her record the whole thing. You used my son, Yan Shenghan, as your own, to inherit your father’s estate. And you bribed her with just three million yuan—when Zhong Group is worth billions. Don’t you think that’s a bit stingy?" Yan Junhao’s voice was mocking over the speaker.

Having finished in one breath, Yan Junhao quickly covered the phone and panted for air. He had already reached the top floor of the servants’ quarters, which was higher than the main house’s second floor. With tools found in a servant’s room, he rigged a rope line to the second floor of the main house.

"That wretched woman actually recorded it! Three million for a surgery and she’s still not satisfied—too greedy! What a despicable doctor! Just a dog I kept, and she dares..." Zhong Yuyu fumed, cursing the doctor.

Before he could go on, Yan Junhao leapt from the servant’s quarters, sliding down the makeshift zip line and crashing through a second-floor window.

Bang! Bang! Yan Junhao fired twice before his feet had even touched the floor. One bullet struck Zhong Yuyu in the abdomen; the bullet seemed to lodge in bone, not passing through. It exploded inside, causing a devastating cavity effect—Zhong Yuyu’s lower belly burst open, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream before fainting from the pain.

"Missed the head," Yan Junhao muttered, frowning, preparing to fire again.

Bang! Bang! Wu Zui and Xiao Keyan fired in perfect unison. Wu Zui shot the pistol from Yan Junhao’s hand; Xiao Keyan’s shot pierced right through Yan Junhao’s gun hand. One bullet ricocheted, shattering a ceiling chandelier before embedding in the wall.

"Don’t move! Hands on your head!" Xiao Keyan barked the order with great authority, though her own soft, adorable demeanor robbed it of some effect—her weapon did all the talking.

Wu Zui grimaced; Yan Junhao’s right hand was useless—how could he put both hands on his head? He directed Xiao Keyan to keep Yan Junhao covered while he cuffed his hands.

Once Yan Junhao was restrained, Wu Zui frisked him for weapons. When Yan Junhao tried to reach for another gun, Wu Zui grabbed the chain between his cuffs and yanked his arms up. Only after disarming him of three pistols and a knife did Wu Zui let go. Realizing this, Yan Junhao’s expression turned grim—he knew Zhong Yuyu, if rushed to the hospital in time, would likely survive, though he could say farewell to his kidneys.

Yan Junhao tried to reassure himself—Song Shuxian worked at the best hospital in Binhai; if Zhong Yuyu was taken there, Zhao Dali would be waiting for him.

No matter. If Zhong Yuyu goes to the hospital, I still have a chance.

"Don’t get your hopes up," Wu Zui whispered in Yan Junhao’s ear. "As far as I know, Zhong Yuyu has two older brothers. If he’s left without a son, his right of succession is void. Sometimes, living can be a far crueler punishment than death. Your child is still young—if you cooperate, you might even get out in time to see your kid’s wedding."