1
Qin Guan crouched in the shadow of the tree stump, ears attuned to summer night insects, eyes unblinkingly fixed on the bench.
Occasional late-night pedestrians passed – elderly strollers, hurried office workers cutting through the park. The familiar city slept peacefully, but Qin Guan felt none of its calm. He was an owl poised to strike, muscles coiled to pounce on his threat.
Yet after two hours, his watch nearing midnight, only mosquitoes buzzed around him. No visitors.
By 1 AM, desperation crept in. Had the money already been taken while he waited blindly? He fought the urge to check – what if the blackmailer lurked nearby, waiting to expose him?
Impossible. He'd kept watch even while changing clothes.
2 AM approached. No one came.
Why risk delivering the suitcase and letter if not collecting the ransom?
A chilling realization struck – psychological warfare!
2
As a lawyer, he knew this tactic well – baiting targets into self-incrimination. The blackmailer likely had no evidence, just fishing. By paying, Qin Guan would confirm guilt regarding Qi Min's disappearance!
He cursed himself – how had he, the meticulous strategist, panicked into this trap?
This wasn't some amateur. A mastermind who knew him intimately.
Panic rising, Qin Guan prepared to retrieve the money when –
A gray-capped figure materialized under distant streetlights.
3
The person was short, draped in oversized gray clothes, wearing a wide straw hat – suspicious at this hour. Their furtive gait quickened, a bag clutched under one arm.
Qin Guan held his breath.
The figure paused at the first bench, glanced around, then moved to the waterwheel bench. Crouching, they reached into the concrete groove.
Now!
Qin Guan exploded from hiding, discreetly pocketing his dagger. This frail frame posed no threat.
The figure screamed, fleeing as Qin Guan yanked off their straw hat.
Streetlight revealed cropped hair beneath.
A woman!
Disguised in baggy grays and a black mask, but undeniably female – and middle-aged!
4
A woman stood no chance against Qin Guan.
Fueled by adrenaline, he roared, "Stop! You're not escaping!" The woman sprinted desperately, but Qin Guan's hand clamped her shoulder.
His phone vibrated – Auntie Feng calling at this hour.
Panic surged. Had something happened at home?
He answered, hearing the nanny's frantic voice: "Sir! Come back now! Miss, she—"
5
Home crisis or new evidence delivery? Qin Guan's grip loosened. The woman wrenched free, bolting toward a 24-hour convenience store.
Chasing further risked her screaming for help. Reluctantly, Qin Guan halted.
A metallic clink drew his eye – a fallen ID badge. "Chunli Cleaning Services."
The city's renowned cleaning company.
He pocketed the badge, retrieved his belongings, and sped home.
Unseen by him, the woman reached a waiting motorcycle.
"Gave me a heart attack!" She panted, triumphantly waving the cash bag. "Told you I'd get it! No 'long-term plans' – small fish matter too!"
6
Chaos greeted Qin Guan.
Their elevator opened to shattered glass littering the doorway. Security guards and a pale Auntie Feng stood inside.
"...We were asleep. Miss heard knocking first – she's been coughing, light sleeper..." The nanny trembled recounting events to guards.
Spotting Qin Guan, she exhaled relief: "Thank heavens you're back! Someone smashed the kitchen window, then pounded the door shouting 'a life for a life!'"
7
The cherry-red front door bore deep dents around the peephole. "One more hit would've broken through," a guard noted.
Xu Ruyi was missing from the commotion.
Qin Guan found her in their daughter's dark bedroom, silently watching Little Pear sleep through the chaos.
"Don't fear, I'm here," he embraced her. "No more late-night cases. I'll stay home."
She trembled in his arms, white nightgown damp with sweat, hair clinging to her neck. The faint salt of fear lingered on her skin.