Chapter 20: Zhao Kuo’s Revenge!

A black Mercedes drove out of Yunding Tiangong Villas. At the wheel, Ling Shuang glanced at Ye Junyao in the mirror.

“Ms. Ye, I don’t understand. How could you give that wonderful villa to a pervert?”

Remembering his unwanted touch, she ground her teeth. A man like him deserved to be on the street, not in a mansion.

Ye Junyao leaned back, frowning. “You know the Nine Gates have been trying to kill me. The Three Fiends of Dongying were a clear example.”

Ling Shuang’s expression hardened.

“With the Nine Gates’ resources, they’ll soon discover my connection to Qin Dong. What if they take him hostage to get at me? That’s why I gave him the villa. Yunding Tiangong has some of Nanjiang City’s best security, with former special forces guards. He’ll be safer there.”

Ling Shuang understood. Ye Junyao was taking precautions. Still, she snorted. “He’s getting a bargain. I bet he’s delighted.”

Ye Junyao looked out the window. She couldn’t say she disliked Qin Dong, but she certainly couldn’t say she liked him either. She had kept him close and registered their marriage because she couldn’t refuse her grandfather. Once the old man’s condition stabilized in a month, she and Qin Dong would go their separate ways. The villa was compensation and protection, so an ordinary man wouldn’t be swept into the danger surrounding her.

“Have we identified the mysterious expert who killed the Three Fiends?” she asked.

Ling Shuang shook her head. “No. The military says he left very few traces. All they can tell so far is that he’s a young man, approximately 178 centimeters tall and around 65 kilograms.”

“A young man?” Ye Junyao drew a breath. “He dispatched three S-rank experts with ease. He must be above SS-rank. Could he be a gifted young member of an ancient martial arts family, out gaining experience?”

“I asked my family. They haven’t heard of anyone doing this.”

Ye Junyao considered it, then shook her head. “If we can’t find him, let it go. He helped us by killing the Three Fiends. He probably isn’t our enemy.”

…

At Villa Nine, Qin Dong wandered through the house. After exploring the three floors above ground, he descended to the second basement.

“Plenty of room down here.”

The private gym covered more than a hundred square meters, filled with new equipment from top international brands: treadmills, exercise bikes, rowing machines, and a Smith machine. In a corner stood a body-composition analyzer that measured height, weight, body fat, and bone density.

“She knows how to enjoy life,” he murmured. He removed his slippers and stepped on it. The screen lit up.

Height: 178 cm.

Weight: 65 kg.

Qin Dong rubbed his chin. “Not bad. Still in shape.” Had he known the military was treating those ordinary measurements as classified intelligence, he might not have slept that night.

Near noon, he left the villa. His phone rang. Zheng Youwei began with a warm greeting before getting to the point.

“How’s that client file I gave you? Confident you can land Song Hongyan? She’s very wealthy. I hear she and her husband have fallen out, and she’s been living separately for nearly six months.”

“Make the most of the chance. Find a way to get her to buy a villa through us, and you’ll be well rewarded.”

After hanging up, Qin Dong was surprised. Professor Song and Zhao Kuo’s father, Zhao Youting, were estranged and had lived apart for half a year? It might be true. Zheng was stingy, but he had broad sources of information.

His phone rang again. This time it was Song Hongyan. What a coincidence.

He answered. Before he could speak, her gentle voice came over the line. “Qin Dong, are you free tonight?”

“I don’t have plans. What is it, Professor?”

She laughed softly. “You saved me, and you wouldn’t accept money. I’m free today, so I thought I’d thank you with dinner.”

Remembering Zheng’s request, Qin Dong readily agreed. They settled on a time and place and hung up.

He went back to his apartment near the university district to shower and change. At the door, he stopped in fury. The security door had been smashed open and hung crookedly from its frame; its lock cylinder had been pried apart and thrown into the corridor.

Inside looked as if bandits had ransacked it. Tables and chairs had been broken, the sofa and clothes cut to shreds and scattered everywhere, and foul-smelling slop poured over the sofa. This wasn’t theft. It was revenge.

“Who did this?”

He took out his phone to call the police. Before he could, an unknown number rang.

“Having fun, Qin Dong? That’s what happens when you cross me!”

Qin Dong exploded. “Zhao Kuo, fuck you!”