Crippled
“Give him something harsher. Do I really have to teach you how?”
The person on the other end hung up after saying that. Zheng Yun looked at the disconnected call and curled his lip. “Unbelievable. A public official is more ruthless than a mobster like me.”
Cen Xie had been hanging for over half an hour. The skin on his wrists was rubbed raw, exposing vivid red flesh.
Only then did Zheng Yun look at Cen Xie suspended in mid-air. His face was deathly pale, even his lips were bloodless, but his eyes remained sharp and piercing.
Zheng Yun walked over and watched him for a while. “Cen Xie, just hand over the camera. I can at least give you a quick end.”
Cen Xie lifted his head and let out a short laugh. “Fuck off.”
Zheng Yun frowned. “This is for real this time. Listen to me—hand over the camera, and I’ll find a way to protect you.”
Cen Xie tilted his head to look at him. “When have we ever played for pretend? If you get that camera, will you even let me live?”
Zheng Yun: “You know I’ve always liked you.”
Cen Xie raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
Zheng Yun: “The Canaan Society is severely weakened this time. Just let me fold it under my name, and I’ll mark you. I’ll use that relationship to plead for mercy from above.”
Cen Xie’s lip curled in derision. “So that guy named Ying is your ‘above’ now? Why do you love being a dog so much instead of being a proper human?”
Zheng Yun: “Can you live off the fringes forever? Who in this line of work doesn’t think about going clean?”
Cen Xie let out a scoff.
Zheng Yun snorted. “You don’t want to?”
Cen Xie closed his eyes, clearly unwilling to acknowledge him further.
Zheng Yun was an Alpha in his thirties. He was only A-rank, but he was ruthless and extremely good at scheming. He had pursued Cen Xie for over two years; putting aside whether his intentions were pure, his actions had certainly been thorough. A bouquet of roses was sent to the Canaan Society every day, yet Cen Xie never spared him a single glance.
Zheng Yun: “Hand over the camera, or go into the shredder. You have to choose today.”
Cen Xie kept his eyes shut, not giving him the time of day.
Zheng Yun glared at him for a moment, switched on the shredder, and then walked to the wall to turn the winch that held Cen Xie.
The shredder emitted a deafening roar, its sharp blades rolling with a cold glint like the teeth of a giant beast waiting to swallow and grind someone to pulp.
Cen Xie lowered bit by bit, getting closer and closer to the machine.
Finally, like a balloon popping, blood sprayed out of the machine with a squelch. In an instant, half of Cen Xie’s foot had been ground into mincemeat.
A blood-curdling scream tore from his throat, for a moment drowning out the roar of the shredder.
Zheng Yun shut off the machine, lowered the man, and asked again: “Where exactly is the camera?”
Cen Xie was trembling violently, his face ghost-white. Layer upon layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead, yet he still refused to say a word.
Zheng Yun pinched his jaw and forced his face up. “I’m asking you one more time. Where is it?”
Cen Xie’s features were truly spectacular; even with every drop of color drained from his face, it didn’t diminish the lush, precious beauty of his looks.
At this moment, Zheng Yun actually felt a bit of hesitation. If it weren’t for Ying Zhu suddenly pressuring him about some camera, he would have given Cen Xie a quick death instead of torturing him in such a cruel manner.
Suddenly, Zheng Yun’s phone rang. He glanced down; it was Ying Zhu. He let go of Cen Xie’s face and walked to the side to answer. “Councilor Ying…”
Ying Zhu interrupted him directly: “How is Cen Xie right now?”
Zheng Yun turned to look at the wretched, miserable Cen Xie and replied, “He hasn’t told me the location of the camera yet.”
Ying Zhu’s tone was strange, vastly different from his usual icy demeanor. It was filled with teeth-gritting frustration, urgency, and anger: “I’m asking about him!”
Zheng Yun didn’t quite react in time, glancing at Cen Xie again. He spoke the truth: “He’s still alive, but his foot…”
Ying Zhu sharply inhaled on the other end, commanding with a hard edge: “Don’t you dare touch him again!”
Zheng Yun: “What?”
Ying Zhu: “I’m coming over now.”
Zheng Yun hung up, feeling somewhat bewildered. Just a moment ago he was told to be harsh, and now what was this?
In less than half an hour, Zheng Yun heard the engine of a sports car outside, followed by the screech of tires against the pavement.
He walked out of the warehouse and ran straight into the rushing Ying Zhu. He stepped forward to greet him: “Councilor, I hope no one saw you on the way?”
Ying Zhu ignored him, striding into the warehouse with his eyes locked on Cen Xie. Cen Xie had already lost consciousness from excessive blood loss. He lay on a chair, as pale as a corpse.
Ying Zhu stared straight at him for a long while before turning to Zheng Yun, his gaze dark and terrifying.
Zheng Yun’s scalp tingled. “…What’s wrong?”
Ying Zhu looked back at the half-dead Cen Xie, offering no explanation: “I’m taking him with me.”
Zheng Yun was confused by this but didn’t dare voice an objection. He simply waved over an Alpha to help carry him.
“I’ll do it myself.” Ying Zhu picked the man up steadily on his own and strode out of the warehouse without looking back.
At that moment, Cen Xie opened his eyes. Recognizing Ying Zhu, he reflexively swung a punch, hitting Ying Zhu in the face.
It didn’t hurt much; Cen Xie had no strength left at all. Ying Zhu’s head tilted slightly from the blow, but his pace didn’t falter. He looked down at him with an extremely complex expression.
After throwing that punch, Cen Xie’s head slumped, and he fell unconscious again.
…..
Driving like a bolt of lightning through nearly empty streets, Ying Zhu blew through several red lights. He had no choice; Cen Xie’s foot had started bleeding again, soaking the car’s floor mat.
Once at the hospital, after the wounds were treated, a ward was arranged. Cen Xie remained unconscious. Aside from his foot, there were many other injuries on his body, likely sustained during his struggle with Zheng Yun.
At past three in the morning, Ying Zhu sat by the bed watching him. Not long after, he received an email from his secretary—the background check on Cen Xie he had requested.
Cen Xie’s history wasn’t much different from what he already knew. At sixteen, he entered a special school for pre-war training as an S-rank Omega. After enlisting, his performance was outstanding; he had military honors and had reached the rank of Major. After the war, he was discharged and joined the Lotus Society, the predecessor of the Canaan Society. Later, during internal gang strife, Cen Xie killed the leader of the Lotus Society, renamed it the Canaan Society, and appointed himself chairman.
Post-war, the government was weak, and signs of ruin were everywhere; many things couldn’t be managed at once. Currently, the situation was a fragmented landscape of the official government, three major gangs, and the Free Army.
Ying Zhu continued reading. The latter half of the file introduced the state of the Canaan Society. Their primary business was gambling and casinos; in an era where gambling was legal, this was a lucrative trade. Not only that, Cen Xie was a loan shark expert.
However, Ying Zhu estimated that all of Cen Xie’s money went toward buying bullets and feeding guns. The Canaan Society was a fully armed gang. The reason they could hold the East District alone—aside from Cen Xie’s own formidable strength—was that the East District’s geography offered no advantage. The Free Army was stationed in the eastern suburbs of the Star County. Every time they entered the city to loot, the East District was the first hit. Cen Xie had frequent friction with them.
Ying Zhu didn’t sleep all night. At dawn, he left for his office at Usher Prison, returning to the hospital in the afternoon.
When he arrived, the doctor was changing Cen Xie’s dressings. Cen Xie was still unconscious. Ying Zhu waited for the doctor to finish before following him into the hallway to discuss Cen Xie’s recovery.
The doctor was a male Beta. He adjusted his glasses and said, “The patient lost half a foot. Even if he recovers, it will definitely affect him. I expect he won’t be able to go without the aid of a cane.”
Ying Zhu pondered for a moment. “What about a prosthesis?”
The doctor nodded. “A custom partial-foot prosthesis can allow for normal walking, but he won’t be able to run.”
Ying Zhu: “I understand.”
After the talk, Ying Zhu returned to the ward and sat in the chair by the bed. Cen Xie’s complexion was much better than the previous night, having regained a hint of color. His eyes were tightly shut, and his thick eyelashes trembled slightly; he seemed restless even in his coma.
It was now dusk, and the air outside the window was dyed orange by the setting sun. The dim twilight gradually lowered, the sky and earth stitching together as night fell.
Ying Zhu hadn’t eaten. He drank a nutrient solution and then sat there watching Cen Xie until the middle of the night.
He couldn’t describe what he felt for this person right now. Emotions are built on memory. It seemed he and Cen Xie shared a secret past. Yet he didn’t remember, and Cen Xie clearly didn’t either.
Before knowing it was Cen Xie, Ying Zhu had guessed that the memory might have been a one-night stand—two people agreeing to delete the fleeting romance afterward so as not to affect their respective lives. Then, perhaps because of a lack of money, the other party failed to honor the agreement and sold the memory instead.
But looking at the person in the hospital bed now, he hadn’t imagined it would be Cen Xie. One-night stand, Omega, Cen Xie. These three conditions grew more absurd one by one.
A one-night stand…
He looked at Cen Xie’s face. Although the two of them were at each other’s throats, he had to admit Cen Xie was truly beautiful. Was it really just a one-night stand?
No, that still wasn’t right. A one-night stand is about each getting what they need for their own pleasure; there isn’t that much of a spirit of sacrifice. Cen Xie’s self-destructive submissiveness… wasn’t something that should appear in a one-night stand.
Thinking of this, Ying Zhu couldn’t help but recall the Cen Xie in that memory card—soft, obedient, clingy, and delicate…
His lips were very soft.
Inexplicably, Ying Zhu suddenly reached out toward him. His hand faltered in the air just as it was about to touch his face, but then he continued slowly. Just as his fingers were about to brush the lips…
Cen Xie’s eyes snapped open, and he raised a hand to firmly seize Ying Zhu’s wrist.
Ying Zhu froze. Cen Xie’s gaze was clear and alert; he didn’t look like someone who had just woken up at all. Ying Zhu parted his lips: “You’ve been awake this whole time.”
Spending hours lying motionless with his eyes shut—was he gathering strength? Planning a countermeasure? Or seeing if he could overhear any secrets?
His guard was certainly high enough.
Cen Xie looked at Ying Zhu’s hand, saw there was no weapon, and let out a cold snort before releasing his grip. He propped himself up to sit, pulling his other hand out from under the blanket—he was holding a handgun.
Ying Zhu caught sight of the weapon. It seemed Cen Xie had woken up even earlier than he thought.
Leaning against the headboard, Cen Xie’s expression was dark and a bit impatient: “What were you trying to do with your hand just now?”