The Real Young Master is Entangled by the Paranoid Fake Young Master - Chapter 38

Zhaoqing found it almost laughable when he remembered the look of sheer, undisguisable surprise in Song Yuening’s eyes back then.

In that past life, the young Master Song had likely been racking his brain for a way to convince Zhaoqing to stay behind, never imagining that Zhaoqing would volunteer before he could even ask. No one wants to die, but the foolish Song Zhaoqing of that lifetime wanted his family to live even more. Whether that stemmed from a desperate need for love or something else was hard to say, but in the end, he had secured Yuening’s promise.

“I promise you, I will definitely come back to save you. Believe in me. Don’t die.”

At the time, Zhaoqing had actually felt a sense of relief. He thought his self-sacrifice had finally touched this “aloof flower” of a man. The chasm between them seemed to have narrowed.

But he waited a long time, and Song Yuening never came. Only a desperate, cornered Tao Jiang arrived.

Zhaoqing had fled through the forest for three hours before losing his way. Exhausted, he was easily recaptured. Tao Jiang brutally broke the bones in Zhaoqing’s hand, and as rescue approached, he pressed a shotgun to Zhaoqing’s throat, intending to use him as a shield to escape.

That was when Song Yuening finally appeared. His own wounds were hastily bandaged, his face pale and refined, but his body swayed as if he might collapse at any moment. Yet his stride remained firm; as he walked, the crowd instinctively parted for him.

He held a gun of his own. He aimed it directly at Tao Jiang’s head.

Tao Jiang wasn’t fearless; Zhaoqing could feel the hand around his neck trembling violently. But the criminal still barked savagely, “If you dare come any closer, I’ll take him down with me!”

Yuening only smiled. “You might not know this, but since I was a child, no one’s marksmanship has ever surpassed mine. Tao Jiang, let him go, and I might leave you with your life.”

It was a lie, of course. A desperate man like Tao Jiang would never believe such a hollow sentiment. He had learned young that a hostage was better than a surrender; to leave one’s life to the mercy of others was a fool’s choice. He was not merciful, and he believed no mercy existed in this world.

“Bah, what a load of crap!” Tao Jiang spat. In this youth whose eyes held no pity, hesitation, or fear, he saw only utter hypocrisy.

“Also,” Yuening’s smile vanished, “has anyone ever told you? I hate being threatened most of all.”

The moment the smile disappeared, a bullet from the silenced gun tore through Tao Jiang’s head. One shot, instant death. Tao Jiang hadn’t even had time to pull his own trigger.

Zhaoqing had slumped to the ground, his strength failing him, realizing then that being willing to die didn’t mean he wasn’t afraid of it. As the crowds rushed forward to check the villain’s corpse, only Song Lili came crying to him, holding him tight and sobbing about how scared she was that he was gone.

Yuening had merely walked over to the two of them, waited for their sobbing to subside, and then extended a hand to Zhaoqing.

“Don’t be afraid. I told you my marksmanship was good. You would have been fine.”

At the time, Zhaoqing thought Yuening was simply that confident. Only later did he realize the truth: Yuening just didn’t care if Zhaoqing lived or died. Because he didn’t care, his hand was steady. Because he didn’t care, Zhaoqing had, ironically, survived.

The Confrontation

The memories receded as Zhaoqing looked at Tao Jiang’s face, a face ravaged by vice and greed. He realized with a start that this was a different lifetime. He narrowed his eyes and looked past Tao Jiang at the prone figure of Song Yuening on the floor.

Yuening stirred slightly. Zhaoqing was certain it wasn’t an illusion.

Tao Jiang, his attention entirely on Zhaoqing, patted the boy’s face with a lecherous smirk. “Little friend, if you listen to your uncle and make me feel good, I’ll untie these ropes for you. How about it?” He began to unzip his trousers.

Faced with the impending assault, Zhaoqing showed no fear.

“I decline.”

His voice was clear and pleasant, as if he were simply declining a game of ball, not responding to a threat. Before Tao Jiang could react, Zhaoqing’s bound hands suddenly snapped free. He slammed a fist into Tao Jiang’s nose, while Song Yuening lunged up from behind, seizing the shotgun and pressing it to the back of the man’s head.

“You really were awake,” Zhaoqing said.

“You actually knew how to pick that lock,” Yuening countered.

Two voices spoke at once. Zhaoqing smiled. He knew Yuening was smart enough to play dead, just as he knew his own childhood in the slums had taught him how to slip out of a bind. Tao Jiang’s knot hadn’t been that complex.

However, even with a gun to his head, Tao Jiang didn’t seem panicked. He even continued his crude talk. “What? You think this is enough to make me let you go?” He looked at the frail, panting Yuening. “Go ahead, pull the trigger.”

Yuening sensed something was wrong. The shotgun had been covered by a cloth on the table earlier, so he couldn’t see the details, but now that it was in his hand… he knew guns too well. He didn’t even need to test it; he could judge the weight and the fake balance.

The gun was a fake.

In the next second, Tao Jiang unexpectedly kicked Zhaoqing away and used the barrel of the gun to pin Yuening by the throat against his own chest. Tao Jiang was a seasoned laborer with hundreds of pounds of muscle; the sheer weight difference sent Zhaoqing reeling. Zhaoqing was a technical fighter—he could suppress someone near his own weight, but against a man of Tao Jiang’s mass, while malnourished and soaked in icy water, he was at a disadvantage.

“Your gun is fake,” Yuening coughed violently, his heart feeling as if it would explode. Without his medication, he was fading fast.

“Yeah, you guessed right. Too bad you’re too late.”

Zhaoqing was stunned. The gun was a fake?! He had relied too heavily on his memories of the past life. In the previous timeline, the gun had been real and displayed openly. He realized then that some of his “facts” from the first life might never have been the truth at all.

“You dare point a gun at me?” Tao Jiang’s face was contorted with rage. “The bitch said you were some precious nobles I couldn’t touch. I’ll see how noble you are when you’re under me!”

He gripped Yuening’s feverish face. “I’ve heard it feels best when the partner has a fever. I was going to be patient, but you two have really pissed me off. I shouldn’t have been so ‘merciful’!”

He began to tear at Yuening’s clothes.

Zhaoqing, ignoring the pain in his side, lunged forward and tackled Tao Jiang’s legs. The enraged man turned his fury on Zhaoqing, kicking him repeatedly in the back, trying to shatter his spine. Zhaoqing refused to let go, dragging Tao Jiang to the ground in a desperate struggle. But the weight advantage was absolute. Suddenly, a powder was blown into Zhaoqing’s face, and his strength began to drain rapidly.

“You cheated!” Zhaoqing’s vision blurred.

“You think I’m some amateur? You two brats thought you could win?” Tao Jiang raised a fist to smash Zhaoqing’s face.

“If you… kill him… I’ll die with him. If we’re both dead, who will you get money from?” Yuening struggled to sit up, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Without his pills, he was a living ghost.

I’ll die with him… Zhaoqing froze. He was sure Yuening was just saying it to deter Tao Jiang, but even as a bluff, it was shocking to hear from a man who viewed everyone as a pawn.

The Plunge

Outside, the wind howled. Suddenly, the wail of sirens approached. The three of them froze. Help had arrived much faster than expected. Xie Chengxuan must have succeeded in bringing the rescue team, following the trail of white sand.

Zhaoqing laughed through the pain. Tao Jiang’s eyes turned murderous. “You think the cops can do anything to me? I’ll take you both to hell with me!”

He realized he likely wouldn’t survive the day, but he wouldn’t let them win. “I’ll give you a choice before I die. One of you lives. The other… comes with me as a hostage. You two seem close; why don’t you decide who dies?”

“You aren’t qualified to make us choose,” Zhaoqing spat, refusing to play the game. He knew Tao Jiang wouldn’t let either of them go.

“Is that so? Then I’ll just take you one by one.”

Tao Jiang looked at the half-dead Yuening. A dead man couldn’t be a hostage. He decided to take the living one but wanted to settle a score first. He hoisted Yuening up like a dead cat and moved toward the back window. The shack was surrounded on three sides by cliffs and the dark sea. He intended to throw Yuening into the depths.

As he held Yuening over the ledge, he felt a grip on his pant leg. Zhaoqing was holding on with stubborn desperation.

“You really want to die, don’t you!” Tao Jiang kicked Zhaoqing again and turned back to choke Yuening over the window.

With a final burst of strength, Zhaoqing stood and threw his arm around Tao Jiang’s neck in a rear-naked choke. It was a move he had seen in underground fights, a technique that allowed a smaller person to kill a much larger opponent.

Tao Jiang thrashed, dropping Yuening onto the floor. But Zhaoqing’s limbs were heavy from the muscle relaxant Tao Jiang had used. He prayed the man would stop breathing before his own strength gave out.

He didn’t see the flash of steel in Tao Jiang’s hand.

Tao Jiang, gasping for air, pulled a hidden dagger. It was meant for his own end, but he used it on Zhaoqing instead. The blade tore through Zhaoqing’s arm. The sudden, agonizing pain forced him to let go.

Tao Jiang spun around and kicked Zhaoqing across the room. Zhaoqing crashed through the glass of the opposite window, blood streaming from a head wound. Tao Jiang stepped forward, raising the dagger for a final blow to Zhaoqing’s heart.

In that moment, a voice, so weak it was barely a whisper, reached Zhaoqing’s ears.

“Zhao-zhao, look out.”

There was the sound of tearing fabric, and then the sound of a blade sinking into flesh. A solid chest blocked Zhaoqing’s view.

“You…” Zhaoqing’s mind roared. Before he could look up, the force of the dagger thrusting into Yuening’s back sent them both tumbling through the broken window.

As they fell, the wind screaming past them, Zhaoqing felt a hand grip his.

Maybe it’s finally over.

Zhaoqing fell into a familiar embrace within the freezing seawater.

I don’t want you to die. I never wanted you to die.

Someone seemed to whisper that into his ear. That was the last thing Zhaoqing remembered before the dark, surging waves claimed his consciousness.

In the moment of blacking out, he finally remembered the story Yuening had once told, the story of the demon trapped at the bottom of the sea and the fisherman. The demon hadn’t wanted to kill the fisherman; he was simply unwilling to let go.