Whitehead.
To Qin Fan, this was by no ans an unfamiliar place. Here, he had slaughtered the Third-Rank Crystal Core Jiao Dragon. Here, he had witnessed the sha of Ma Yunbin being caught in a honey trap. And here, he had also covertly destroyed a Martial World gang and a bar. With such experiences, his mory of the small town remained vivid, even after being away for dozens of days.
The car entered the bustling Shuidong area, the town's center. Just as Qin Fan was surveying the streetscape outside the window, a loud bang suddenly erupted. The car jolted violently, throwing both Zhuge and Qin Fan forward in the back seat. The young driver in the front slamd against the deployed airbag as the entire front of the car crumpled from the impact.
Were we rear-ended?
"Boss, I, I, I—!" The young hired driver's face was etched with panic as he imdiately turned to Qin Fan and Zhuge.
"What happened?" Zhuge, who had been resting with his eyes closed, was startled by the crash and demanded, his brow furrowed.
"Boss, that car suddenly changed lanes and slamd on its brakes right in front of us! I couldn't swerve in ti!" the young driver explained, his voice trembling. "I hit the brakes, but they cut in and stopped so abruptly. Because of the car's inertia, I couldn't stop us from hitting them!"
"They suddenly changed lanes and braked to block us?" Zhuge asked, his brow tightening.
"Yes! That's exactly what happened!" the young driver confird quickly.
But just as he finished speaking, the doors of the SUV they had hit were thrown open, and four burly n climbed out. They strode over to their car with nacing expressions and began pounding on the window.
Seeing this, the hired driver instinctively looked toward Qin Fan.
"Let's get out," Qin Fan said with a light chuckle.
At his words, all three car doors opened simultaneously, and the three of them stepped out.
"Can you even fucking drive?" the leader of the n barked, glaring at the old-and-young pair and the driver's panicked face.
"What-what did you say? Can you speak Mandarin?" the hired driver asked timidly, not understanding the local dialect.
"Out-of-towners?" The n exchanged glances, and strange smiles spread across their faces. The leader then addressed the young driver in broken Mandarin. "Look what you did to my car. I don't want to waste words. Ten-thousand yuan. Let's settle this privately."
"You caused the rear-end collision! You changed lanes illegally and slamd on your brakes!" the young driver retorted, his eyes widening at the demand for 10,000 yuan. But his courage vanished as soon as he took in the n's appearance—big gold chains, fancy watches, white shirts, black pants, and leather shoes. He quickly averted his gaze, but his trembling limbs clearly betrayed his panic and unease.
"Don't you fucking talk to about traffic rules!" the leader roared, his expression turning vicious. "Is there a problem with changing lanes? Is there a problem with braking? Damn it! I'm asking you one thing: are you paying or not?!"
"I don't have that much money!" The saying goes that a mighty dragon is no match for a local snake, and the young hired driver was certainly no dragon. It was only natural for him to be terrified, facing local thugs on foreign soil.
"Oh? No money? You think saying 'no money' makes this go away?" Seeing the young driver's quivering state, the man knew they had an easy mark. As for calling the traffic police, they couldn't care less. Anyone who ran this kind of scam in their own backyard had connections. Besides, the fact remained that their car had been hit.
"I only have a little over a thousand yuan on . Is a thousand okay? You can file an insurance claim anyway. Please, just take pity on , can't you? Let go," the hired driver begged, his shaking spreading from his limbs to his words, putting him on the verge of a breakdown. "I'm just a hired driver trying to earn a little cash. I really don't have much money. Please, sirs, I'm begging you, let off the hook, okay?"
"Okay? My ass! If you don't cough up ten thousand yuan today, I fucking guarantee you'll co to a bad end around here!" the leader scoffed. He lunged forward and grabbed the hired driver by the collar.
At the sa ti, in the opposite lane, a silver BMW X6 suddenly slowed down. The window rolled down, and the woman driving froze when she saw Qin Fan standing there, hands in his pockets, an amused look on his face.
"Yunyun, what's wrong? Why did you stop? People are honking behind us! It's just a fender-bender, what's so interesting?" the woman in the passenger seat urged.
"Liting, do you rember that kid from the Royal Party?" Chen Yunyun asked, staring intently at Qin Fan while ignoring the blaring horns.
Zhong Liting was taken aback by the question, her expression growing serious. Forget him? As if she could ever forget!
"You an that brat who acted all cool and mysterious," she said quickly, "and ended up taking down Lord Hei, forcing the Royal Party to shut down for good?"
"Yes, it's him! He's here again! That must be his car that crashed!" Chen Yunyun said, still dazed. Recalling that night still sent a shiver down her spine. They had thought he was just so clueless rookie, but a single phone call had quietly landed Lord Hei in prison. More importantly, the high-ranking officials who arrived that night had all addressed him as Young Master Qin. Even as the daughter of a wealthy Whitehead rchant, Chen Yunyun had been deeply shaken by the incident. Seeing that sa cold face again after so many days, it was no wonder she couldn't keep her composure.
"Yunyun, pull over. Let's go have a look," Zhong Liting said, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning out the window.
"Are you sure we should go over?" Chen Yunyun asked, feeling apprehensive.
"We'll just be watching the show. It's not like he can do anything to us, right?" Zhong Liting replied, though her own voice faltered with hesitation.
"Alright, let's go." Biting her lip, Chen Yunyun found a flicker of determination in her eyes. She rolled up the window, turned the wheel, and hit the gas, pulling the car over to the side of the road. Then, they quickly got out and walked across the street.
Back at the accident, the thug slamd the hired driver against the smoking hood of the car. "Begging won't help you," he said coldly. "I'm no saint. Paying for a car accident is a matter of course. Ten-thousand yuan, not a penny less. If you don't have it, ask your boss. If he won't pay, call your family and friends and have them wire you the money. Here's the deal: 10,000 yuan to settle this privately. Of course, you can always call the police. I won't stop you. The choice is yours."
As he finished, the nacing thug let out a sinister laugh, the unconcealed threat hanging heavy in the air.
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