The Wuling Hongguang rattled along the national highway like a worn-out tin can. Outside the window, the scenery shook into blurred blocks of color. From time to time, sirens flashed past in the distance, and each time Su Ran’s grip tightened around her clothes without her realizing it. The Bai family’s dragnet was spreading faster than she had expected.
She sat in the passenger seat. The cleaning uniform she still wore carried a strange mix of disinfectant and sweat, but she had no time to care.
“How much fuel do we have left?” she asked.
Fu Yechuan glanced at the fuel gauge. The needle trembled at the edge of the red zone.
“Thirty kilometers at most.”
“There’s a service area ahead. We’ll have to stop.”
“And then what?” Fu Yechuan kept his hands steady on the steering wheel. The black streaks of engine grease on his fingers stood out sharply. “Use our faces to swipe a card for gas?”
Su Ran was left speechless.
Two people carrying over seven million yuan in assets, yet they could not even afford a tank of fuel. All their domestic bank cards had been frozen, and the cash they had on hand totaled less than fifty yuan, all of it pulled from Fu Yechuan’s work clothes.
The Wuling Hongguang itself had been found by Fu Yechuan at an abandoned auto repair shop in West City. No license plates, the key still in the ignition, as if the owner had long forgotten it. He had reconnected the severed ignition wires in two minutes and driven it out of a pile of scrap metal.
“There’s a billboard up ahead,” Su Ran pointed into the distance. “‘Jade Town, Shopping Paradise,’ about fifteen kilometers away.”
Fu Yechuan said nothing, which counted as agreement.
The atmosphere in the car felt strange. The tension of escaping death had faded, replaced by a surreal calm. They had won the first round in a thrilling, near absurd way, only to be knocked back into their original state almost immediately.
Su Ran turned to look at Fu Yechuan. He was driving with full focus, his back straight, hands steady on the wheel. Even in a nearly falling-apart van, he looked like he was taming a wild beast. The engine grease on his face made his otherwise refined features look oddly grounded.
“What are you looking at?” he asked without turning his head.
“At your outfit,” Su Ran said. “You look more human like this than when you wear a suit.”
Fu Yechuan glanced at her through the rearview mirror, looking at her like she was speaking nonsense.
The car stopped at the entrance of Jade Town. It was a tourist-themed ancient-style town built for jade trading and souvenirs. It was not peak season, so the streets were empty, and a police notice for assistance in an investigation was posted at the entrance. Although their photos were not printed, Su Ran still instinctively pulled her hoodie lower.
“What are we doing here? Trying to barter for gas with our words?” Su Ran unfastened her seatbelt.
“Pawn shop,” Fu Yechuan said simply, turning off the engine.
Su Ran froze. A pawn shop? What did they even have left to pawn? Her cleaning uniform, or his oil-stained work clothes?
Fu Yechuan did not explain. He got out, walked around to her side, and opened the door.
“Phone.”
Su Ran handed him her phone.
He placed it on the hood along with the three phones used for stock operations. After a short manipulation, he removed her SIM card and inserted it into a simple old style phone.
“From now on, use this for one line communication only,” he said, handing it to her. “Throw away the old phone. The Bai family might track device codes.”
The small device felt surprisingly heavy in her hand. The screen was small, the buttons large, and it strangely gave a sense of security.
“One of the other phones stores evidence. Keep it powered off and physically isolated. The third is for data access,” Fu Yechuan said, reassigning their uses before putting them away. “Let’s go.”
He led her into a narrow alley deep in the town. At the end hung a faded sign: “Deyuan Pawn.” The storefront was small, barely looking legitimate, with old appliances stacked outside.
Fu Yechuan pushed the door open.
Behind the counter sat a fat old man dozing off, wearing reading glasses. In front of him was a half eaten plate of braised pork elbow, grease splattered across his ledger.
“Pawning something?” the old man asked without lifting his eyes.
Fu Yechuan placed his wrist on the counter. He was wearing a watch.
Su Ran had never noticed it before. It looked old, with a steel band and a plain black dial, completely unremarkable, like something worth a few dozen yuan at most.
The old man finally looked up. He adjusted his glasses and brought out a magnifying glass, examining it carefully.
He studied the dial markings, the strap joints, and finally the engraving on the back.
Three full minutes passed.
“Where did you get this?” the old man said, putting down the magnifying glass. Then he suddenly changed tone, licking oil from his fingers. “Young man, this is a pretty good fake. Yiwu replica, right? I’ll give you two thousand at most.”
Before Su Ran could speak, Fu Yechuan smiled faintly and listed a series of numbers.
“Production number 37692, 2004 Geneva exhibition limited edition, original box registry 017, engraving on the back is a quote by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. I’m correct, aren’t I?”
The old man’s expression changed instantly. He grabbed the magnifying glass again, reexamining the engraving.
“Alright, alright, just joking,” he said quickly. “This is a Vacheron Constantin Patrimony series 43075, discontinued for nearly twenty years. Good condition, just a scratch on the crystal. Cash pawn or consignment?”
Su Ran stood there, stunned. Vacheron Constantin? This thing she thought was a cheap steel watch?
“Cash pawn,” Fu Yechuan said.
The old man calculated quickly.
“Sixty thousand.”
“Ten thousand more.”
“Your watch is worth a bit over two hundred thousand new, but I need to factor in refurbishment risk and holding costs. Sixty five thousand, no more.”
“Ninety thousand. Cash.”
The old man stared at Fu Yechuan for a long moment. Fu Yechuan stood there quietly, engine grease still on his face, eyes calm like deep water with no trace of negotiation pressure.
“Fine,” the old man finally said.
He pulled out a heavy safe from under the counter, slowly counted nine stacks of cash, tied them with rubber bands, and pushed them over.
“ID registration.”
“Don’t have it.”
“Then I can’t accept it.”
“Boss,” Fu Yechuan leaned slightly forward, lowering his voice. “You sell objects, not identities. This watch is clean, not stolen. If you find it troublesome, we’ll leave. There’s another shop called Yongsheng Pawn down the street. I saw their door open earlier.”
The old man froze mid bite of his braised pork. He studied Fu Yechuan again and understood he was dealing with someone who knew the trade.
“Kids these days talk too much,” he muttered, pushing the money back.
“Leave the item, take the cash.”
Fu Yechuan removed the watch, placed it on the counter, and took the money without even checking it, stuffing it into a black plastic bag.
They walked out.
Outside, the sunlight was harsh. Two urban enforcement officers were walking toward them. Without hesitation, Fu Yechuan pulled Su Ran slightly behind him, blocking half her face until they passed.
Back in the alley, Su Ran still hadn’t processed everything.
“Where did you get a Vacheron Constantin?” she asked.
“My mother gave it to me.”
“And you just pawned it?”
“Otherwise what?” Fu Yechuan looked at her. “Keep it and wait for Bai Jingshan to crush my skull with it?”
Su Ran fell silent again.
“It’s just a watch,” he said calmly. “It can be bought again. But if you lose your life, you lose everything.”
He was right. She knew he was right. But it still felt uncomfortable.
That was not just any watch. It was something left by his mother, one of the few remaining traces of warmth in his life.
They returned to Wuling Hongguang.
Fu Yechuan handed her twenty thousand yuan.
“Take it.”
“What for?”
“We split up,” he said, starting the engine. “This car will not make it out of South City. Take a long distance bus to the neighboring city and wait for my news.”
“And you?”
“I have to go back.”
Su Ran’s heart tightened.
“Back? Are you insane? Going back now is suicide. The Bai family is probably searching every house already.”
“There’s something I need,” Fu Yechuan said, his profile hard under the light. “Shen Zhixing can’t get it. Only I can.”
“What thing?”
“The receipt,” he said. “The receipt proving I accepted a fake five million yuan check.”
Su Ran’s breathing paused.
That receipt was Bai Weiwei’s most lethal weapon, the core of the fabricated evidence chain. As long as it existed, she could turn everything against them again.
“Where is it?”
“In Bai Weiwei’s study, inside the safe.”
“How do you know?”
“I installed that safe for her,” Fu Yechuan said evenly. “The password is her birthday plus the date we first met.”
Su Ran felt something sharp pierce her chest. It hurt, and it was sour. She suddenly felt a sting of jealousy toward Bai Weiwei for being the one who shared that first meeting date with him, and a strange ache for the man who treated past wounds as tools.
“It’s too dangerous,” she grabbed his arm. It was solid like heated iron. “The Bai family must have a net waiting for you.”
“That’s why we split up,” he said. “If you leave, I have no worries.”
He drove to the long distance bus station and stopped at the curb. Patrol cars had just passed, and announcements echoed through the station.
“Show ID to board.”
He handed her another stack of money.
“Buy the nearest bus to Hai City. Once you arrive, use the phone I gave you. Report every night at eight.”
Su Ran held the warm cash but did not move.
“Fu Yechuan,” she said.
“Speak.”
“Do you think I really want to leave?” Her eyes burned slightly.
He did not look at her. His gaze stayed on the traffic ahead, fingers tapping the wheel unconsciously.
“The agreement says that once the mission is complete, the relationship ends,” he said calmly. “I’m just following the agreement.”
“To hell with the agreement!”
Su Ran’s voice rose sharply.
“I wrote it, I can tear it up if I want!”
Fu Yechuan finally turned to look at her. His eyes were deep and unreadable, like swirling darkness.
“This isn’t a game,” he said hoarsely. “Bai Jingshan won’t be scared off by you tearing paper. If I go back, it’s a gamble with nine lives. If you follow me, it’s ten deaths out of ten.”
“If you die, who am I supposed to collect my money from?” Su Ran snapped back, forcing herself to sound cold, refusing to admit her concern.
Fu Yechuan suddenly smiled.
Not the cold kind. Not the cruel victorious kind.
A soft, almost burning smile she had never seen before.
“Consider it a loan,” he said. “I’ll pay you back with interest.”
He opened the door.
“Get out.”
Su Ran did not move.
Then, unexpectedly, tears fell from her eyes. Even she did not understand why.
She wiped them quickly and jumped out of the car.
“Fu Yechuan,” she said, standing outside the door. “If you die, I’ll take your five million, run to an island, buy a house, and keep seven or eight pretty boys. I’ll throw parties every day and spend every cent of your money.”
Fu Yechuan tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
“Alright,” he said softly. “But I won’t give you that chance.”
The Wuling Hongguang merged into traffic and disappeared around the corner.
Su Ran stood alone, holding the bus ticket and the money.
The station announcements continued in the background.
She looked down at the phone in her hand. A message from Fu Yechuan lit the screen.
“Wait for me.”
Two words.
Su Ran smiled, then tucked the phone away.
She did not walk toward the Hai City boarding gate. Instead, she returned to the ticket counter, refunded the ticket, and bought a bus back toward the suburban outskirts of the city.
Only fools would obediently wait in Hai City.
She sent him a message.
“Remember to repay the money. Double the interest.”
Then she blended into a group of migrant workers carrying woven sacks and walked toward a different boarding gate. She needed to stay in the shadows and prepare a backup plan. If he failed against the Bai family, she would have to find a way to pull him out. She could not just let him die and never repay her.
Meanwhile, Fu Yechuan, already on the return road, saw her message and smiled again.
Ahead, two patrol vehicles blocked the road, checking IDs.
He calmly signaled, turned the steering wheel, and took a narrow rural path toward the back mountains of the Bai family villa.
The game between hunter and prey had only just begun.