Chapter 31: Asking for Trouble
Three deep creases furrowed Wu Yifan's forehead, and a cold sweat began to seep through his shirt.
As the old saying goes, *You can run, but you can't hide forever*. But he'd never imagined this "female tyrannosaurus" would track him down so quickly. It was truly a case of enemies colliding on a narrow path. Yet getting a close look at this "female tyrannosaurus" sent a strange, thrilling jolt through him. She stood tall and lean, with a face so striking it bordered on the ethereal—high cheekbones, sharp eyes, and lips that looked soft despite her rigid scowl. Her police uniform strained tightly across a pair of full, firm breasts, as if they were fighting to break free, a stark contrast to Ye Xiwen's more understated elegance. Where Ye exuded cool sophistication, this woman radiated raw, unapologetic authority.
Being a red-blooded man, Wu couldn't help but let his gaze linger on her chest for a split second, silently marveling. Beauty upon beauty, strength upon strength. Who would've thought a woman with such a fearsome reputation—"Female Tyrannosaurus," as the locals whispered—would have such… *generous* curves? Had she gone under the knife in Seoul, like so many celebrities?
But Wu was a master of keeping his cool. He'd survived bar brawls, near-death chases, and Ye Xiwen's withering glares—he wasn't about to crumble over a pretty face.
His eyes darted, and he broke into a wide, practiced smile. "Boss Ye, I didn't expect you to bring a guest to my little security booth. Is something urgent? Let me pour you both a drink, and we can talk it through." He bustled over to the rickety water dispenser, filling two chipped glasses with a sincerity that seemed almost too perfect, as if he were performing for an invisible audience.
"Hmph. Your acting's not half-bad—you could give real method actors a run for their money," Ye Xiwen said, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her tone as frosty as a winter morning.
"I thought you'd call him a 'heartthrob,'" Fu Junyao added, a faint, mocking smile playing on her lips.
"Oh? Method actor? Heartthrob? Are you two trying to scout me for a TV show?" Wu asked, feigning wide-eyed surprise. "Don't get me wrong—I know my rugged good looks could make schoolgirls scream, but my dream is simple: to be a loyal security guard, protecting Infinity's little corner of the world. I've got no plans to branch out into showbiz, so you can save your pitches." He puffed out his chest, striking a pose that he clearly thought looked heroic, and swept a strand of hair off his forehead with a dramatic flick of his wrist.
"Oh please. A TV show? Do you think you're Louis Koo or Andy Lau?" Ye scoffed, her lips twisting into a disdainful sneer.
"Louis Koo? Andy Lau? Those guys are yesterday's news," Wu shot back, grinning. "I'm the new breed of heartthrob—my life, my rules!"
"Your life, your rules? And where exactly is this 'life' of yours?" Fu asked, her voice smooth but sharp, like a blade hidden in silk.
"Uh… this security booth, I guess? Though technically, it's not *mine*," Wu said, shifting uncomfortably. The air in the tiny room felt suddenly thick, as if the walls were closing in. He had the distinct feeling he was being cornered.
Ye had no patience for games. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Let's cut to the chase. For someone who spends his days slacking off—napping, playing video games, leering at hostesses—you sure know how to drive like a maniac. Even Yao Yao couldn't keep up. Where'd you learn to do that? Next thing I know, you'll be flying a jet."
"Driving? Me? Boss Ye, what are you talking about?" Wu asked, his eyebrows shooting up in mock confusion. "I've never driven a sports car in my life."
"Keep acting. I'm sure the Oscar committee will hear about you," Ye said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Acting? What act? I have no idea what you're on about," Wu insisted, his face a picture of bewilderment. "Did you sleep poorly last night? Maybe you're having… hallucinations?"
Ye glanced at Fu, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Could Fu have made a mistake?
Fu scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "Who else would it be? He was in the car with Song Mingjie—same build, same smirk. I'd recognize that face anywhere. Those two are two peas in a pod—both arrogant, both reckless. I'd remember them even if they turned to dust." The memory of chasing them through Beitian's streets, her pride bruised, made her jaw clench.
"Song Mingjie? That chubby guy?" Wu asked, feigning surprise. "We left Infinity together, but we just went to a small restaurant for drinks. We got along great—talked about everything from video games to politics—and got so drunk we could barely stand. We just stumbled back here a few minutes ago!"
"Then why don't you smell like alcohol?" Fu countered, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, after drinking, we hit a sauna," Wu said, rolling his eyes as if the answer were obvious. "Sat in the steam for half an hour, got massages—felt so good, I almost didn't want to leave. It's been hours—of course the booze wore off."
"Quit your weaseling," Fu snapped, slamming a fist lightly on the desk. "I saw you. Clear as day. You think I'd forget a face like yours?" She pulled a pair of handcuffs from her belt, letting them jingle metallically in front of him. "I didn't come here to chat. I've filed charges against you and Song Mingjie: speeding, running red lights, and *attempted manslaughter* of pedestrians. Now, you're under arrest."
"Attempted manslaughter? What in the world are you talking about?" Wu froze, genuinely baffled this time.
"You drove that sports car like a lunatic—swerving, speeding, nearly hitting a kid on a bike. What else would you call it?" Fu shot back, her eyes blazing.
"Whoa, Officer Fu, that's not fair," Wu said, throwing up his hands in mock outrage. "Is driving fast *really* attempted manslaughter? Then every guy with… you know… *that part* would be guilty of attempted rape. Every woman with… *those parts* would be a prostitute. And you've got cash in your pocket—does that make you a drug dealer?" His voice rose, laced with exaggerated indignation. He felt a surge of frustration, like he was trapped in a bad comedy.
Ye and Fu both flushed bright pink, their eyes narrowing into icy slits.
*Pervert*, they both thought. He even had the nerve to say such crude things out loud.
Wu rambled on for another minute, but the security booth fell silent—he might as well have been talking to the walls. Finally, he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Why aren't you saying anything? I may be a security guard, but I know a little about the law. You can't just make up charges."
"Make up charges?" Fu scoffed, but there was a faint smirk on her lips.
"Absolutely," Wu said, nodding earnestly.
"So you're admitting to speeding and running red lights—just not the manslaughter part?" Fu asked, her tone suddenly casual, like she was just making small talk.
"Exactly. I mean… uh…" Wu froze. He'd walked right into her trap. He shot her a glare, but it was too late.
Fu's smile widened, victorious. She gestured for Ye to step outside, then settled back in her chair, lacing her fingers behind her head in a relaxed pose that somehow still looked authoritative. "Wu Yifan? Now that you've owned up to your mistakes, I should probably罚 you. But… I've got a better idea." Her voice dropped, softening slightly, and her eyes crinkled at the corners, a hint of warmth breaking through her tough exterior. "I need a favor. And if you help me out, I'll make those charges disappear. Sound good?"
Wu stared at her, momentarily taken aback. For a woman known as the "Female Tyrannosaurus," she had a surprisingly charming smile. He blinked, then leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What kind of favor?"
Fu's smile turned mischievous, like a cat who'd just spotted a mouse. "Let's just say… you owe me a chase. And I'm here to collect."