Chapter 204 You Have No Chance
"Need I remind you?"
Lu Heng poured the tea slowly and leisurely. The blood-red amber bracelet on his wrist seemed to be awakening quietly after absorbing the body temperature, emitting a bright and strange color.
But it was not as unsettling as his voice: "Mao Xiabin, Ruiming Group, Secretary Su."
The last three words were uttered slowly and lightly, like a thin blade cutting into Su Sheng's heart.
There was the sound of shuffling papers on the other end of the phone. Su Sheng seemed to be thinking quickly about a solution: "Mr. Lu, I can explain this matter..."
Lu Heng interrupted him, crushing the blue and white porcelain teacup between his fingers. "I want to see you in the tea room in two hours."
The broken teacup pierced his fingertips, and blood trickled out, dripping onto the tea tray and mixing with the tea.
He glanced at his fingers, his voice suddenly soft, like a devil's whisper: "One second later, you know what the consequences are."
After hanging up the phone, Lu Heng slowly stood up and walked to the window.
The sun was shining brightly outside the window, but it couldn't reach his deep eyes.
He dialed another number, his voice low and cold: "Check all of Su Sheng's movements in the past six months, especially his financial transactions and communication records."
The person on the other end of the phone quickly responded: "Yes, Mr. Lu."
At the same time, Meng Anran sat in the office of Ruiming Group, tapping the table with his fingertips.
She stared at Su Sheng's information on the computer screen, frowning slightly.
I always feel that things are not that simple.
The appearance of Mao Xiabin, the intervention of Su Sheng, the false accusation against Lu Yi... Behind all this, it seems that someone is playing a bigger game.
*
The heavy sound of piano rang out in the tea room. It was the "Funeral March".
The bass is like a drum beating on people's hearts. When it reaches the climax, it suddenly becomes high, as if telling the glory of the deceased, or the clamor of the murderer's emotions.
When Su Sheng heard this song, his heart was in his throat. When he pushed the door open, beads of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.
He forced himself to remain calm as he walked towards the man in the piano, who was meticulously dressed in a black suit, and bowed his head respectfully: "Mr. Lu."
Lu Heng had his back to him, the piano music still playing as he spoke softly, "Who is it?"
Su Sheng swallowed, beads of sweat sliding down his cheeks and falling to the ground with a thud, "Mr. Lu, I don't understand what you mean."
The piano music stopped abruptly.
Lu Heng's hands hovered above the keys, and after a pause, he continued playing the unfinished piece. He didn't speak, but every note seemed to strike a nerve in Su Sheng.
It tortured Su Sheng's nerves, tortured his consciousness, and the fear consumed him, until he finally knelt down on the heavily embroidered Persian carpet with a plop.
Sweat dripped onto the carpet like water, making a muffled sound. He said in a trembling voice, "Mr. Lu, Mr. Lu, I really don't know..."
Dong—a deafening piano sound became the ruin of the whole song. Lu Heng obviously lost his patience and turned to look at the person kneeling on the ground in cold sweat. His eyes were so cold as if he was looking at an ant that could be crushed at any time.
"You should know that if you tell it out loud and I send someone to investigate, your fate will be different." Lu Heng took off the amber bracelet on the piano, put it back on his wrist, and gave Su Sheng one last chance.
Su Sheng whimpered in fear and banged his forehead against the ground again and again. Even though there was a thick carpet under him, blood still dripped from his forehead after three or five times.
"Mr. Lu, please let me go this time! This was all ordered by Second Young Master Lu! You know how arrogant he is, how dare I disobey!"
Smelling the faint smell of blood in the air, Lu Heng slowly raised his eyebrows, as if he was a little interested in listening to his nonsense. "Tell me, what did he tell you?"
Su Sheng seemed to see hope for survival and quickly said, "You also know that Second Young Master Lu has never liked Meng Anran, so he asked me to find a way to ruin Meng Anran's reputation. He said that if I can accomplish this for him, he will let my family go."
After the words fell, the air was silent for a long time. Su Sheng carefully looked at Lu Heng's expression. Ten years had passed, and he still couldn't guess Lu Heng's thoughts.
"That's a good story." Lu Heng suddenly spoke, his gentle voice revealing a hint of terror that squeezed Su Sheng's heart. "Unfortunately, I hate lies the most."
Two people suddenly rushed in from outside the door, grabbed Su Sheng, and pressed his hands on the steel strings of the piano that had been removed from the casing.
"You don't stand a chance."
As Lu Heng's fingertips gently tapped the black and white keys, a wailing sound was heard and the pitch of the music became distorted and harsh.
Su Sheng wailed in pain, his hands cut into a bloody mess by the steel strings.
The smell of blood filled the tea room, and blood drops splashed along with the beating of the strings, which seemed to ignite a nerve that Lu Heng had hidden for many years.
He played with pleasure, enjoying the distorted music.
By the end of the song, Su Sheng's hands were so damaged that they were unsightly, and he was too tired to even shout, as if he was hanging on to his last breath.
"Drag him away." Lu Heng said lightly, pulled out a handkerchief from his suit pocket, and carefully wiped the blood beads on the amber bracelet.
Each and every one of these worthless handicrafts is a treasure that he cherishes immensely.
His movements were gentle and graceful, and his expressionless face was stained with blood, yet he seemed unaware of it. He looked like a terrifying Shura.
Xiang Fu walked in slowly, his leather shoes making no sound on the carpet. He habitually lowered his eyes and didn't look at Lu Heng's horrifying appearance.
He said calmly, "Mr. Lu, there is a monthly transfer of funds from overseas into Su Sheng's account. The other party's account changes very quickly, and it is currently impossible to determine who it is."
Lu Heng put the clean bracelet back on his wrist, his fingertips gently stroking the cool and bright beads, with a look of joyful appreciation in his eyes.
After a long moment, he withdrew his gaze and stood up, casually throwing the used handkerchief on the piano keys. He said calmly, "Clean this place up. By the way, notify my stupid brother."
Xiang Fu paused for a moment, then raised his eyes cautiously, "Mr. Lu, are you referring to...Second Young Master Lu?"
Lu Heng glanced away without emotion, "Or?"
Xiang Fu immediately nodded in agreement, "Understood."
*
Outside the glass curtain wall of the international terminal, dusk falls and neon lights come on.
Qin Mu leaned against the black Maybach, playing with the Bodhi bracelet he had worn for many years between his fingers, and glanced at the crowd of people pouring out.
He arrived twenty minutes earlier than the agreed time, having been asked by Miss Enron, who was holding a board meeting, to pick someone up in person.
"Qin Mu?"
A deep male voice came from behind. Qin Mu turned around and met a pair of warm and smiling eyes behind the lenses.
Kenai was wearing a light gray windbreaker, a leather medical bag slung over one shoulder, and a suitcase in his other hand.
He was thinner than he was seven years ago, with a jawline as sharp as a knife. Only the tiredness in the corners of his eyes revealed the exhaustion from the long flight.
"Long time no see." Qin Mu reached out to take his luggage, and the Bodhi bracelet slid back from his palm to his wrist. "The flight is actually on time, how rare."
"The typhoon has taken a detour." Kenai smiled, hooking the medical bag on his shoulder and subconsciously looking inside through the car window. "She's not here?"
"Meeting."
The car aroma is a cool note of toasted cedar wood chips, just like being in a cedar forest in the morning mist.
Kenai remembered that this was Anran's usual aura - clear, restrained, and without any emotion.
"How is she?" He looked at the flowing lights outside the window and asked in a soft voice.
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