Chapter 13: Not Your Average Star of Calamity

Her faint words shattered the light in Song Jitang’s eyes, leaving her instantly afraid to say anything more.

Indeed, He Lian had far too many enemies, all of whom were lawless, ruthless criminals. If he really ended up with Song Xueyan and those beasts came to retaliate against the Song family, they would be left holding the bag with no way out.

Their tiny Yangcheng could hardly withstand a violent bombardment of artillery shells.

Song Qian held his forehead, speaking with utter honesty: “Everyone knows that clinging to He Lian would secure this tea mountain. I thought the same way at first, but after seeing last night’s news, I think we’d better forget it.”

He Lian was no average star of calamity.

If Song Xueyan followed him, having ten lives wouldn’t be enough for her to burn through.

The several people in the room couldn’t help nodding in agreement.

Song Xun slapped his thigh and let out a sigh: “What a pity. If we really had He Lian’s protection…” He rubbed his knuckles impatiently, his words laden with hidden meaning, “…we wouldn’t have to worry about… the tea plantation affairs being exposed.”

Song Qian understood, but under no circumstances would he allow his daughter to walk into danger.

Seeing that their eldest brother was set in his decision, the other two didn’t say much more.

Song Qian pondered for a moment: “Once Xueyan finishes her art exhibition, we’ll dispose of Jiang Yu. If Xie Qingzhou insists on having the Old Master’s tea mountain, we’ll give it to him. Once we sell it and get the cash, we’ll go our separate ways.”

Terrified, Song Xun scrambled halfway to his feet, casting a glance at Song Xueyan and his own son, signaling for them to step outside.

Once they had left, he said with extreme tension, “That won’t do, Eldest Brother! As long as the tea mountain is here, we have a continuous stream of income rolling in. Selling it just leaves us with dead money, and none of us know how to run a business. Yangcheng is so small, not to mention…”

Not to mention if anyone discovered that they were lacing the tea leaves with coca, they would all be finished!

That was against the law!

If it were ever uncovered, He Lian would be the first to march over and kill them all!

Song Qian slapped the table in response: “Do you think I don’t know all this? But if Xie Qingzhou insists on forcing a buy-and-sell deal, do you have a better idea?” He waved a broad hand, “Quickly settle the final payment for that last batch of coca, and we’ll pull out and quit. Having all the money in the world is useless if you don’t have the life to spend it.”

Hearing this, Song Xun exchanged a glance with his younger sister.

The two had no choice but to nod in resignation.

On the other side, inside the wooden building, Jiang Yu looked ignorantly at the person before her, handing over the paintbrush in her hand, only to have it slapped away by Song Xueyan.

The paintbrushes tumbled onto the floor, and Jiang Yu immediately knelt down to pick them up. Her movements were always a beat too slow, which made Song Xueyan thoroughly irritable, and she stomped her foot directly onto Jiang Yu’s hand!

As if feeling no pain, Jiang Yu raised her head, looking up in confusion.

Song Xueyan’s sharp brows inverted in anger: “What? Are you foolishly mocking me for not knowing how to paint? Or do you think you’re hot stuff just because He Lian held you? Someone like you actually thinks she’s worthy?”

Judging by Jiang Yu’s expression, she clearly didn’t understand, yet Song Xueyan couldn’t suppress her rage.

Even though He Lian was terrifyingly ruthless, the man’s striking handsome looks were deeply engraved in her heart. She was just about to vent the anger she had bottled up for two days on Jiang Yu when Song Yuchu, leaning against the doorframe, stopped her.

“Song Xueyan, that’s enough.”

The young man’s voice remained cold and indifferent, carrying no obvious intent to deliberately protect her.

Song Xueyan stood up and kicked Jiang Yu straight in the chin.

Song Yuchu’s brow furrowed sharply.

The girl flipped over onto her side, the corner of her mouth cut open, blood pooling inside. Yet she merely blinked, sticking a finger into her mouth to dab at it, looking curiously at what it was.

Gazing at her cousin’s brows, Song Xueyan exposed him without the slightest reservation: “Brother, you really take the cake—actually liking a lunatic. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

Song Yuchu didn’t answer; he turned around and walked away.

Song Xueyan kicked the paintbrushes back over once more, saying to Jiang Yu who sat on the floor: “Hurry up and paint! If you dawdle any longer, I really will skin you alive!”

Clutching the paintbrushes, Jiang Yu nodded as if understanding half of it.

Song Xueyan walked downstairs and ran straight into Su He coming up.

She raised her hand and delivered a slap, screeching in harsh rebuke: “If you let Jiang Yu run around wildly next time, I’ll take your life!”

Su He nodded frantically.

Watching Song Xueyan leave, she panicked and ran upstairs, seeing Jiang Yu standing calmly by the window, reaching her hand out to feel the breeze outside.

“A-Yu!”

Su He hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief, stepping over to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth: “Dammit! Why doesn’t a bolt of lightning strike that Song Xueyan dead?! God really has no eyes!”

Jiang Yu raised her eyes, reaching out to gently touch the red mark on her face: “Sister He, you’ve suffered too.”

With an aching heart, Su He shook her head: “It’s nothing. As long as it helps you leave this place, I don’t care.”

Jiang Yu: “Sister He, help me get some gasoline.”

Alarmed, Su He grabbed her by the arm: “A-Yu, what are you planning to do?”

Jiang Yu offered a gentle smile, holding her hands: “Don’t worry, with my blood debt unpaid, I won’t do anything foolish. Just help me get some first, and I’ll handle the rest.”

Su He hesitated for a few seconds before nodding solemnly: “Alright, I trust you.”

Jiang Yu walked back to the window, her gaze growing profoundly distant.

Without any communication tools, Su He couldn’t possibly contact He Lian. In these bone-chilling mountain mists, she could only stir up more noise.

She hoped He Lian would notice then, and remember her back in the old mansion.

As long as he remembered her, there would be a chance.

Though she wasn’t a hundred percent confident, she had no retreat left.

Gazing at the dark clouds gathering once more, Jiang Yu extended her hand, feeling the bursts of moisture brushing against her palm. Feeling a wave of nausea, she abruptly clenched her hand into a fist.

A few seconds later, pitter-patter rainfall slammed onto her bruised back hand.

It was raining again.

Leaning against the window frame, Jiang Yu stretched her body outward, tilting her head up and closing her eyes, letting the rain drench her.

The bloodstains at the corner of her mouth were slowly diluted.

Tasting the coppery metallic flavor on her tongue, she murmured softly to herself.

“He Lian, it should be very warm where you are, right?”

Jinzhou Border, Sector 6 of Fitz.

Boundless yellow sand was whipped by raging winds into a seamless horizon. Not a thin cloud was to be seen; the sun hung high, casting a fierce, oppressive heat over the entire expanse of wilderness.

A convoy of modified off-road vehicles roared forward through the sand, their tire tracks stretching endlessly behind them, until a massive green military tent came into view not far ahead.

Dozens of burly men dressed as mercenaries, their faces covered, held Scorpion submachine guns as they stood guard at the entrance in neat formation.

The convoy came to a stop. Zhuang Yumian looked into the rearview mirror. The man kept his head down, his expression unreadable, merely twirling his fingertips casually as he asked in a neutral tone: “We’re here?”

Zhuang Yumian pulled out a bulletproof vest and handed it over: “President, Xie Qingzhou is inside.”

However, He Lian didn’t take it. He stepped out of the vehicle, looked up at the scorching sun, unbuttoned his suit jacket, draped it over his arm, loosened the collar of his white shirt, and made straight for the entrance.

Zhuang Yumian hurriedly chased after him out of the car, voicing her worry: “President, going in empty-handed like this is far too dangerous. Let a few men go in with you.”

She gestured, and a squad from Fortress Group 1, who had long stepped out of their vehicles and waited, surged forward.

Every single one was a handpicked special forces soldier.

He Lian swept a glance over them, casually pulling a military dagger from the waist of one squad member. The cold gleam flickered through his smiling eyes as he said nonchalantly: “This one will do. Pretty nice.”

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