Ning Xiuyan stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window of the private club, a Cuban cigar between his fingers.
Outside the window was the brightly lit city night scene, and his sinister profile was reflected in the flashing neon lights.
The cigar smoke slowly rose in the air, blurring the violence surging in his eyes.
"Second Young Master, I've checked everything." The assistant pushed open the door and placed a document respectfully on the crystal coffee table. "Ye Qingliu studies at the city library every Wednesday night until 9:30, and Duan Shuce plays basketball at the basketball court in Xicheng District every Thursday afternoon."
Ning Xiuyan sneered and flipped open the file with his slender fingers. Under the light, his nails were neatly trimmed, yet they exuded a chilling coldness.
The file contained secretly taken photos - Ye Qingliu's profile as he lowered his head to read was cold and noble, and Duan Shuce's waistline was thin and strong when he was shooting.
"Very good." He stubbed out his cigar, the spark fading in the ashtray. "Since they like to be heroes so much..."
The assistant unconsciously took a half step back. He was too familiar with this expression - the last time the Second Young Master smiled like this, the little star who had offended him was still lying in the hospital.
On Wednesday night, the lights of the city library seemed especially warm in the rain. Ye Qingliu closed his book "Analysis of Advanced Mathematics" and rubbed his sore eyes.
There was a sound of rain outside the window, and the condensed water droplets on the glass refracted the street lights outside into a blurry halo.
He glanced at his phone, and Ning Xiwan's message lay quietly on the screen: [Son, remember to eat dinner].
The corners of his lips curled up slightly, and he lowered his head to type a reply: [Eat it].
After thinking about it, he added: [You too].
While packing his schoolbag, he suddenly paused.
——It’s too quiet.
He was the only one left in the study room, which should have been filled with several students. The footsteps in the corridor had also disappeared, leaving only the sound of rain hitting the windows.
Ye Qingliu's gray-blue eyes darkened. He calmly put his schoolbag on his left shoulder and reached for the pen in his pocket with his right hand.
As we walked out of the alley behind the library, the rain intensified, the streetlights were shattered by the rain, casting mottled shadows on the ground.
"Crack—"
A steel pipe hit his right arm with a sound of breaking through the air!
Ye Qingliu dodged sideways, but his arm was still grazed. With a sharp pain, he groaned and his schoolbag fell into the water.
Four dark shadows surrounded the alley from both sides, and the man in the lead had a hideous scar on his face.
"Young Master Ye," Scarface grinned, "someone paid for your hand."
Ye Qingliu lowered his eyes to look at his unconscious right arm, and slowly clenched the pen with his left hand.
The rain dripped down his eyelashes, leaving winding water marks on his pale face.
"Then give it a try."
For the next five minutes, the alley echoed with the dull thud of flesh colliding and the cries of pain.
Ye Qingliu's white shirt was soaked with rain and blood, and the tip of the pen in his left hand was stained with dark red blood.
When he leaned against the wall, panting, the four thugs were already lying on the ground groaning.
He took out his cell phone with his trembling left hand, and the raindrops hitting the screen blurred his vision.
When I called Duan Shuce, his voice remained calm: "...someone is targeting us."
———————————————
It was a scorching afternoon on Thursday, and Duan Shuce's beautiful three-pointer drew cheers from the sidelines.
He lifted the hem of his sweaty T-shirt and wiped his face, revealing his well-defined abdominal muscles.
"Brother Duan, another game?" a teammate shouted while holding the basketball.
Duan Shuce waved his hand, then, with a cheeky grin, picked up the bottle of mineral water and drank half of it. Drops of water rolled down his Adam's apple, sparkling in the sunlight.
"No, I have to pick up Wanwan from get out of class later."
As he bent down to pick up his coat, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stood up -
"Crack!"
The baseball bat hit his right leg hard, and the sound of broken bones was clearly audible.
Duan Shuce knelt on one knee, the pain causing his vision to go black for a moment. But almost as he fell to the ground, he grabbed the attacker's collar with his backhand and headbutted him, causing his nose to bleed.
"Fuck," he licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled cruelly, "Playing dirty?"
Five thugs rushed out from behind the stands. Duan Shuce stood up by supporting himself with the basketball hoop, but his right leg could no longer bear the weight.
But this didn't stop him from picking up the basketball on the ground and smashing it hard into the face of the nearest person.
As the sirens grew closer, Duan Shuce leaned against the basketball hoop, breathing heavily. His right leg was bent at an unnatural angle, and his white shorts were stained red with blood.
But he still took out his phone and sent a voice message to Ning Xiwan: "Wanwan, I may not be able to pick you up today..."
The voice still contained a smile, but the ending tone was a little trembling.
The pungent smell of disinfectant in the hospital was suffocating. Ning Xiwan stood in the corridor outside the ward, looking through the glass window at the two people inside.
Ye Qingliu leaned against the head of the bed, his right hand in a heavy plaster cast, and he was clumsily flipping through a book with his left hand.
The sunlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains and fell onto his pale face, his eyelashes casting a shadow under his eyes.
Duan Shuce's bed was next to the window, his left leg suspended, yet he was still talking to the nurse with a smile on his face. The wound on his forehead was bandaged, but it didn't diminish the scoundrel look on his handsome face.
"Ms. Ning." The doctor handed over the diagnosis, the rustling of paper particularly harsh in the quiet corridor. "Student Ye has a comminuted fracture of the ulna in his right hand. He will need at least eight weeks to recover. Student Duan has a fracture of the fibula in his right leg, accompanied by ligament damage..."
Ning Xiwan took the diagnosis, her fingertips were cold.
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