"Brother Jie, what do we do with this woman?" Tiger asked.
Shen Zhijie kept his head down, wrapping the bloody gash on his palm with a strip of cloth. At Tiger's words, he gave a quick glance at the woman cowering beside the car wheel, shivering uncontrollably. His tone remained detached. "Keep it clean. No loose ends."
His voice was deep and cool, clear yet laced with a chilling undertone.
"You got it!" Tiger responded cheerfully, lifting a steel rod over a foot long and striding toward the woman.
It was a piece of ribbed rebar, thick as a thumb. He Yan had picked it up from a construction site and stashed it in the toolbox beneath the passenger seat—for self-defense. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought it would fall into the hands of her assailants and become the weapon that would end her life.
She had to survive—no matter what, she had to live!
Though her body trembled like a leaf, a voice inside her screamed with desperate clarity. Her parents were still alive—kind, gentle souls who could never bear the blow of losing their daughter to a violent death in the wilderness. And then there was Liang Yuanze—waiting for her on the other side.
She never should've driven alone down this country road, never should've assumed a car meant safety, never should've hit the brakes when she saw someone sprawled in the road. She should've slammed the gas and driven right over them!
But now was no time for regret. She was on the verge of death.
"Please, I beg you, don't kill me! Take the car, the money, everything! I swear I won't call the police, I won't tell anyone. Just please, please don't kill me!"
She wept as she crawled on her knees toward the man sitting by the roadside—stern-browed and stone-faced—pleading, "Big brother, please… please spare me. I stopped because I thought you were hurt—I was trying to help! I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything, I swear!"
She was clever, Shen Zhijie had to give her that. He looked up, giving her an extra glance. Her face was tear-streaked, features delicate yet twisted by fear, eyes filled with tears and desperate light. But that did nothing to soften the hardness in his heart. He lowered his head again to finish bandaging the gash on his palm—he'd injured it jumping off the truck, landing on a sharp-edged stone that nearly sliced it in two.
The woman continued to crawl toward him, sobbing and kowtowing. Irritated, he thrust the injured hand at Skinny Monkey to finish the wrapping and snapped coldly at Tiger, "What's taking so long?"
Tiger came over, grabbing her like a rag doll and dragging her toward the roadside brush.
He Yan struggled with all her might but didn't dare scream. In this godforsaken stretch of road, no one would hear. Screaming would only bring her death faster. So she kept crying, kept pleading.
"Wait a sec, Tiger!" It was Skinny Monkey who spoke up as he wrapped Shen Zhijie's hand, his voice softening. "Brother Jie, why don't we keep the woman around for now? What harm could she do to us?"
Shen Zhijie's brow twitched, but he said nothing. Tiger scoffed, "You just want a piece of her, don't you?"
Skinny Monkey grinned, his eyes roaming over her chest. "And if I do? It's been over a month since I've touched a woman. Don't tell me you're not interested."
In the moonlight, Tiger looked down at the woman he was holding. Young, beautiful, with delicate features and a shapely body—it was hard not to be tempted.
The two of them turned their eyes to Shen Zhijie.
His cold, ruthless gaze swept across He Yan's face, now dumb with fear. His voice was merciless. "We're on the run. You want to mess around, wait until it's safe."
He Yan shuddered involuntarily, but she fought to stay conscious. Her eyes darted to Skinny Monkey, her last thread of hope. "Please… don't kill me. I'll do whatever you want. I have parents… they only have me."
Skinny Monkey hesitated, clearly moved. "Brother Jie, it won't take long—just a quick go."
Before Shen Zhijie could respond, Tiger laughed, "Shameless bastard!"
Yet despite the insult, Tiger didn't drag her away. The two men waited for their boss's verdict.
These two had followed Shen Zhijie through fire and blood. He scanned them, then picked a stalk of grass from the roadside and stuck it between his lips. With a look of cold boredom, he said, "Fine. Just be quick."
Skinny Monkey whooped and jumped up, heading straight for He Yan. Tiger let go of her generously. "All yours."
He Yan didn't resist. She let Skinny Monkey drag her toward the car, whispering as she clung to his arm, "Please don't kill me. I'll cooperate. Just… don't kill me."
"I won't kill you," he answered impatiently. "Just be good and do as I say."
His hand lunged straight for her chest, squeezing roughly. Driven by lust, he glanced around and yanked her toward the bushes.
"No—let's go in the car," He Yan whispered.
Her words caught the attention of Shen Zhijie, who turned to look. She quickly added, "The backseat is more comfortable. Won't get scratched."
Skinny Monkey, already dizzy with desire, didn't question her suggestion. He pulled her into the backseat of the white SUV.
Outside, Tiger leaned on the door, peeking through the half-open window. "You holding up in there?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Skinny Monkey growled. Inside, the sounds of rustling fabric and muffled sobs built to a crescendo. The car began to rock rhythmically.
Tiger cursed under his breath and stepped away, trying to distract himself.
"She's a virgin!" Skinny Monkey gasped. "Jackpot!"
Tiger spat on the ground, stunned. Then he turned to Shen Zhijie. "Boss, you hear that? Don't let the kid shake the damn car apart!"
A virgin? Shen Zhijie raised an eyebrow, sneering faintly before turning his gaze away.
The car's movement grew more frantic, stirring up the madness inside.
He Yan endured it all—his grunts, the sickening thrusts, his tongue licking her fingers during their spring picnic—until she slowly, silently reached for the small fruit knife hidden behind the passenger seat.
She had to survive. For her parents. For Liang Yuanze.
She found the knife. As the man quickened his pace, she lifted her head, pulled him down with a kiss, then—swiftly and without hesitation—drove the blade into the base of his neck.
He stiffened. Eyes bulged in shock.
She tightened her grip on the blade and slashed downward. Spine, artery, windpipe—nothing withstood the knife.
Blood gushed everywhere. She covered the wound, half-drenched in red.
Outside, the others hadn't noticed. The engine was still running.
She had one chance. Climb into the front. Lock the doors. Drive.
She pushed the man off. Shen Zhijie sat ahead with his eyes closed, lost in thought. They had fled over a thousand kilometers; Nanzhao City lay ahead. He had allowed this brief moment of indulgence, but perhaps that was a mistake.
So lost was he in thought that he didn't notice the soft click of the doors locking.
The headlights flared to life.
Too late.
He opened his eyes, startled. The SUV screamed toward him. The woman's face—half covered in blood, the other half pale as death—appeared behind the wheel. Her eyes were filled with blazing hatred.
"Boss!" Tiger roared, diving at Shen Zhijie and pushing him aside.
The vehicle missed Shen Zhijie by inches but smashed into Tiger, sending him flying ten meters before crashing to the ground.
The SUV never stopped. It rolled over Tiger's legs and sped into the night.
He Yan gripped the wheel, foot slammed on the accelerator. She didn't stop until the rural road opened into city streets. There, she screeched to a halt. Her whole body trembled. She couldn't even hold her phone, let alone dial.
"Ahhh—" she cried out like a wounded beast, biting her wrist until the pain steadied her hand.
Then she managed to hit the call button.
"Call the police, Yuanze… call the police. Something happened to me…"
She had come to his city that night, hoping only to give him a surprise.