She grabbed Chu Hengyuan’s wrist, stepped back and angled herself, making a clear path for the five fully equipped men. “After you. But I already beat him up earlier—so be careful. If you go too hard someone might actually get killed.”
The man at the far left replied, voice casual, “Don’t worry. He won’t die—I’m a doctor.”
Rong Lan’s eyes lit up. Bringing a doctor to a fight was clever; if anyone went too far, at least there’d be someone to patch him up.
The man in the middle beckoned. “Come on, let’s do it.”
The five of them closed in on Xie Feng with wooden clubs, and another scream tore the night. The man who’d called himself a doctor swung his stick while lazily lecturing the others on where it hurt the most but wouldn’t be fatal.
Little Fox, watching like she always did, took diligent mental notes of the doctor’s instructions—just in case she ever had a chance to try it herself.
Chu Hengyuan watched the exhilarated group and rolled his eyes. If he’d known they’d make such a ridiculous entrance, he would never have texted them to come join the fun. Even with faces covered, he could pick out each of them at a glance.
They’d all wanted to rough Xie Feng up for a long time but had never got the chance. Now that an opportunity had dropped in their laps, they’d all come running.
“Alright! Stop!” the so-called doctor called, halting his companions’ jolly club-swinging.
The other four quieted immediately.
“Time to take him to the hospital,” the doctor said, squatting to untie the sack over Xie Feng’s head.
Rong Lan moved closer out of curiosity. Sure enough, Xie Feng’s face was nearly swollen beyond recognition—puffed and bruised like a prize pig. These people had been ruthless; she’d seen the club strike his face more than once. When she’d fought, she’d found hitting his face pointless and instead aimed for his soft spots.
“Anyone want to say anything to Xie Feng before we go?” one of the five asked, glancing at Rong Lan and Chu Hengyuan.
Rong Lan waved him off and took another step back with Chu Hengyuan. “No. If you’re going to take him to the hospital, please do.”
“No trouble at all. You vent, then you clean up the mess, right?” the doctor said.
Rong Lan noticed one of the five was a woman—much smaller and more slight than the others. The girl hauled at Xie Feng’s ankle with such ease and composure that Rong Lan almost wanted to clap and call her “heroine.” While Rong Lan had to brace herself twice to lift Xie Feng, the girl tugged him along without breaking a sweat.
“We’ll be off, then. See you if fate allows,” they said politely to Rong Lan and Chu Hengyuan, slung the unconscious Xie Feng between them, and, shoulder to shoulder, left the alley.
When they were well out of sight, Chu Hengyuan pretended to be curious. “Lanlan, aren’t you worried they might be dangerous?”
Rong Lan thought for a moment. “They’re not. I don’t know what their score with Xie Feng is, but I can tell they aren’t evil.” The threads of causality she saw around people had never lied—these ones shone with decent colors. She could even make out their professions: a doctor, and surprisingly, a lawyer among them.
“They wouldn’t secretly kill him or sell him off. I trust them to take him to the hospital.”
“Mission accomplished—let’s go home!” Little Fox looped her arm through Chu Hengyuan’s, stretched, and said, “After tonight’s beating, when our Miss sees Xie Feng’s injuries, I bet she won’t think spending two hundred thousand yuan was money wasted.”
Chu Hengyuan smiled. “Let’s go home.”
Hidden nearby, Si Mo flicked a folding fan and, a little put off by Little Fox cozying up to her partner, averted her gaze. She didn’t linger—she dropped a teleportation array at her feet and vanished in a blink.
Back home and about to shower, Rong Lan’s phone rang. She glanced at Chu Hengyuan, who was rummaging in the kitchen for a late-night snack, then stepped out to the balcony to avoid whatever grand scheme Bai Rongran might open with.
“My dearest Ranran—what does your beloved sister want?” Rong Lan teased as she answered.
A stifled retch came down the line.
Rong Lan: “???” She snorted. “Pregnancy nausea again?”
Bai Rongran’s voice was all faux-innocent sarcasm. “I’m not vomiting—your mere presence on the phone is nauseating.”
Rong Lan had expected as much. If Bai admitted to morning sickness, she wouldn’t be the real Bai Rongran. “Cut to the chase. I just got in and want to shower.”
“I knew you weren’t at the Bai house for dinner. Since you shared that recording with me, I’ll return the favor with some good news.”
“Go ahead.”
“At dinner tonight Bai Xiju drank himself into a swaggering mess, declaring he’ll inherit Father’s Bai Group. Father was livid and kicked them out right after the meal. He even said that, unless there’s business, the siblings shouldn’t set foot in the Bai house.” Bai Rongran smirked. “He also had the gall to call you a wild child. Mother and Aunt fought right then and there.”
Rong Lan choked on a laugh. “He knows he can’t hold his liquor—how stupid to drink like that.”
“He does, and Mother knows it too. So Mother did a little something in his stew,” Bai Rongran continued. “Aunt tried to say his words were just drunken nonsense, but you know how it is—there’s that saying about alcohol making you speak the truth. The more Aunt explained, the angrier Mother got.”
“I’ve been wondering what you told Mother to make her so determined to trap Bai Xiju,” Rong Lan said, leaning on the balcony rail.
Bai Rongran laughed. “Simple. I embellished the bit in your recording where Bai Xiju tried to drive a wedge between us—played it up, made sure to say it came from you to show my trust in you. Mother always wants us to be close; once she believed you’d confided in me, she wanted Bai Xiju gone for good.”
“You’re brilliant at handling family politics, Ranran.” Rong Lan didn’t hold back praise. Then her tone shifted, teasing. “If only you were half as clever with matters of the heart.”