Chapter 82 Happy Birthday, Seventeen-Year-Old Yao Yao
"The straight-line distance is 534 meters."
"The wind speed is 2.7 meters per second."
"There is no fog or large dust particles in the air, and visibility is high."
Such distance and weather conditions present a rare opportunity for a sharpshooter.
He had a black earphone hanging on his right ear.
Wearing a black, stretchy bodysuit, she blended into the night.
This location offers a wide view, but it's also very secluded and not easily spotted.
There was sound coming from the headphones.
"Ready to make a move?"
“Not yet.” The sharpshooter frowned, holding his binoculars. “He has an old man with him. I’ll make my move when he’s alone.”
It wasn't because he was afraid of harming innocent people, but because he wanted to minimize the commotion.
The sound from the headphones continued.
"You really don't need my help? Tell me his information, and we'll work together. He'll have nowhere to escape."
"No need." The sharpshooter refused without even thinking. "How could I possibly share the people I've found with you?"
One billion US dollars.
He can take a few years off once he completes the bounty.
He had worked hard to find the information, so how could he possibly tell other hunters?
"Tsk, fine." The voice in the earpiece was indifferent. "But I'll remind you, just a while ago, the ninety-fourth on the Gun God Ranking failed."
"Five bullets fired in a row and you missed. And you're dealing with an ordinary person. You'd better be careful."
The sharpshooter sneered: "Mind your own business."
He ranked seventh on the list of top gunners.
Can the 94th place player compare to him?
Are you kidding me?
The sharpshooter cut off the communication, took off his headset, and threw it aside.
He readjusted the height and bent down again.
**
Inside the apartment.
Under Ying Zijin's care, Wen Fengmian's health improved significantly.
So tonight, he insisted on cooking all the dishes himself, with Wen Tinglan assisting.
They weren't expensive dishes, just some common home-style dishes, but they were delicious and visually appealing.
A large cake was placed in the middle, with candles placed around it.
Wen Fengmian took off his apron and wiped his hands: "My home is small, please excuse the three of you."
He had lived in Qingshui County for more than ten years, and this was his first time visiting Shanghai.
Apart from Zhong Manhua, who had visited Qingshui County before, Wen Fengmian had never met anyone from the four powerful families, so he couldn't help but feel a little worried.
“Mr. Wen, you’re too kind.” Old Master Zhong quickly stood up. “It’s my honor to be here. You’re too kind.”
Beside him, Grandpa Fu stared intently at the cake, his eyes practically glued to it.
Fu Yunshen lifted his eyelids slightly, a half-smile playing on his lips: "Grandpa."
"Huh? Cough cough!" Old Master Fu coughed and said seriously, "It's not small. I think it's fine. Old Zhong and I used to squeeze into one room. This is nothing."
The older generation experienced famine, so they weren't as precious.
Wen Fengmian was surprised by the two old men's attitude, but he felt relieved.
Grandpa Fu then said to the girl, "Zijin, don't be fooled by your grandfather's old age and his tendency to roar. He used to be quite timid and afraid of the dark."
Ying Zijing rested her chin on her hand and raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.
Grandpa Zhong was furious: "Old Fu, stop spreading rumors in front of my granddaughter. Just think about how many snacks you stole from me when you were little!"
Ying Zijin: "..."
Fu Yunshen: "..."
Grandpa Fu said smugly, "That's because you're too stupid, that's why you can't catch me."
Grandpa Zhong was furious: "Pah!"
He gets angry whenever this is mentioned.
When they were little, they were brothers who grew up naked.
He had been to the Fu family's house, and Old Master Fu had also visited the Zhong family's house.
As a result, every time Grandpa Fu came to the Zhong family, his snacks would disappear.
Later, Grandpa Zhong discovered that it was all Grandpa Fu's doing.
Steal his maltose.
Steal his pea flour cake.
They still took the whole bag, leaving him nothing at all.
Look at this, is this something a human being would do?
Wen Tinglan, who had been silent all along, finally raised her head, her expression slightly fluctuating.
He needs to protect the snacks his sister bought for him.
Because everyone was family, the birthday celebration, though not grand, was warm and enjoyable.
Grandpa Fu's health is poor, so he needs to go back to rest after dinner.
"Yaoyao, wait for me." Fu Yunshen stood up. "I'll take Grandpa back and come back in a bit."
"Hmm?" Ying Zijing was clearing away the plates. "You've finished the cake, why did you come back?"
"..."
He was certain that the child wasn't heartless; that was truly how he was.
Fu Yunshen smiled helplessly: "Birthdays can't just be like this."
Ying Zijing thought for a moment and said, "I think I'm very satisfied."
"Brother isn't satisfied yet." Fu Yunshen tapped her forehead and said slowly, "There will be a surprise at nine o'clock."
On the other side, Grandpa Zhong was thanking Wen Fengmian.
"Thank you, thank you so much for taking care of Zijing all these years. If you hadn't brought her back, I really wouldn't know..."
The conversation ended there.
Because everyone knows what the outcome will be.
A child who is just over one year old will starve to death even if he is not picked up by human traffickers.
Wen Fengmian pushed the bank card back, coughing as he said, "This is what I should do."
Grandpa Zhong felt that the Wen family's upbringing was truly excellent, so he didn't press the matter further: "Mr. Wen, if you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can come to me. As for the Ying family, just treat them like rotten cabbages that you didn't see."
Wen Fengmian neither nodded nor shook his head, but smiled and went to the kitchen to help Ying Zijin wash the dishes.
Grandpa Zhong was still sitting at the table drinking when he suddenly remembered something.
hiss.
He felt like he had seen Wen Fengmian somewhere before; he felt that Wen Fengmian looked somewhat familiar.
Where is it...?
Grandpa Zhong thought for a long time but couldn't figure it out, so he simply took another swig of wine.
He turned his head and pulled the boy: "Xiao Lan, Old Man Fu is too bad. Come play a couple of rounds with me. Don't let me win. Grandpa isn't afraid."
Grandpa Zhong also liked Wen Tinglan very much, so he let him call him maternal grandfather along with Ying Zijin.
He gained a grandson.
He was really happy.
Wen Tinglan looked up at him, her gaze lingering: "...No."
"You want it, you want it." Grandpa Zhong pushed Hei Zi over without saying a word. "If you beat Grandpa, Grandpa will give you a big red envelope."
The last sentence made Wen Tinglan decisively pick up the chess piece: "Deal."
Old Master Zhong, still drunk: "..."
Is something wrong?
**
Outside.
The sharpshooter was still watching from the rooftop across the street, but after a while, he was starting to get impatient.
Finally, after waiting for an hour, the man's figure reappeared in the sights.
This time, it was just me.
It's 9 p.m., and there's no one in the neighborhood.
It's very quiet.
The sharpshooter breathed a sigh of relief, then raised his gun again and aimed it at the man's head.
Slide your finger to the trigger, ready to pull it.
But just then, he was patted on the shoulder.
(End of this chapter)
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