On My Way - Chapter 48

Chapter 48 - If It All Were a Nightmare

When I woke up, I saw Old Feng.

He was at the wheel, driving. The bright sunshine hit his hard-featured side profile, making even his stubble stand out in stark detail.

So, was the previous scene just a dream I had while traveling?

Did I fall asleep? How could I possibly let my superior drive?

I raised my hand to touch Old Feng’s arm.

The next second, he collapsed against the car window.

I remained frozen there, my hand still hanging in mid-air.

"Hahahaha! Are you a complete idiot?! You’re killing me!"

A head popped up from the backseat. Chana’s face was caked in dried blood, and his expression was hideously twisted with laughter.

It wasn't a dream...

We were at the edge of a cliff. Old Feng was tied to the driver’s seat, and I was in the passenger seat.

Chana puffed on a cigarette and paced outside the car, seemingly contemplating how to make Old Feng’s foot press down on the accelerator.

The mountain wasn't particularly high, but I had already started to feel dizzy. The mountain wind dried the sweat that covered my face and head, only for a fresh layer to immediately emerge.

"When they find you, they’ll probably say you were a pair of lovers who committed suicide together, hahahaha." Chana blew a smoke ring and prepared to take action.

"Please, don’t kill me." The lines from TV dramas were useless and cliché, but over and over again, that was all I could say: "Please, please, don’t kill me."

Chana stared at me and smiled maliciously. "That’s right. The first time I saw you, you had that same spineless look—like a total servant. It makes me sick to my stomach."

My brain functioned like a video on tenfold speed; countless images flooded in and vanished in a frantic blur.

"Yes, I... I’m very cowardly. I’m greedy for life and afraid of death. You can do whatever you want to me, just let me live."

I trembled, using the most sycophantic voice I could imagine: "The police must be looking for you right now... What will you do if they surround you? At least—at least have a hostage. I won't resist..."

Reading people was a skill etched into my bones. Even in a terrifying situation like this, I could still sense that his expression shifted slightly.

That one shift was enough.

"You must have things you want to do... I’ll help you. You can kill me anytime, anytime..." I whispered, slowly, like a soft tentacle pushing with all its might into a tiny crack. He hadn't left me and Old Feng to rot in the wilderness; instead, he had gone to great lengths to deal with us.

That meant he wanted to live, and he believed he could.

Half an hour later, Old Feng’s corpse plummeted off the mountain with the dilapidated Jeep, followed by a violent explosion.

I bit my lip, shivering in silence.

"Follow," Chana said.

I took one last look back. Many, many years ago, Old Feng and I had sat on the ground after a narrow escape, sharing a cigarette. He had told me: Class is a high tower; those who want to climb it must be prepared to be smashed to pieces.

He was truly smashed to pieces now, but I wasn't.

—

I had lost too much blood and felt delirious, my hands and feet bound, tossed into the backseat.

He was still driving that battered, mangled Cullinan, which meant the area he was driving through was still sparsely populated.

Otherwise, a fugitive driving a luxury car would have been caught long ago.

So where was this? While drifting in and out of consciousness, I desperately picked at my ropes while thinking: I must escape. I have to live. Grandma is waiting for me to go home, and there are still so many things I want to do...

I don’t know how long we drove before Chana stopped.

I struggled to lift my head, resting it against the car window, and saw Chana talking to several foreigners.

Have we... crossed the border?

Through the window, I couldn't hear clearly and could only continue to observe the area. This place was a desolate desert, covered in sand and stone, with not a blade of grass in sight.

Panic set in. Even if I managed to escape, I had no idea where to go.

What were they saying to those foreigners? I stared intently at their lips. It wasn't English; the pronunciation was Russian.

That was it. I remembered that in the report Old Feng had filed, it mentioned that Beicang Transport had always been involved in smuggling with Russia.

So he was planning to go with these Russian "friends." What would happen to me? Would I be sold, used for organ harvesting...?

Because of the fear and blood loss, my entire body shook violently. I stared at Chana’s lips, not giving up a single scrap of information.

Just then, something unexpected happened.

Chana seemed incredibly furious, roaring something.

The foreign "friends" only laughed, as if they were toying with him. Chana threw a punch at their leader, only to be easily evaded.

He fell to the ground in a pathetic heap, like a stray dog.

I felt as if I were watching a silent B-movie.

The men surrounded him, cheering and laughing. Each of them kicked him, and one of them brought his foot down hard on his face.

This beating lasted for nearly an hour before they stopped, still looking unsatisfied.

Then they looked up at the priceless luxury car.

My heart tightened, and I curled my body up as hard as I could, hoping they wouldn't see me.

Fortunately, perhaps because its exterior was too wrecked, they just glanced at it with disdain, hopped into their own luxury car, and drove away.

The desert was silent and still, not even a bird could be heard. Only Chana—and I—remained, breathing heavily on the ground.

It was an hour later when I finally broke free of my ropes and struggled to open the car door.

The sky had darkened, and the sound of muffled thunder rolled in. Raindrops as big as beans fell frantically from the sky.

Chana had been beaten badly; he tried several times but still couldn't stand up.

I took the car keys from his pocket, and he could only watch me in silence.

In my fantasy, I would get in the car immediately, run him over again and again until his body was a bloody mess, and then drive away in style.

However, I didn't miss the cold sneer at the corner of his mouth at that moment.

I reached out to help him up, struggling to load him into the car. Like a true servant, I asked cautiously, "Are you okay? Does it still hurt?"

His gaze shifted from mockery to confusion, yet he kept staring at me without saying a word.

"We’re partners, remember? I won’t abandon you." I started the car and said, "It’s about to rain. We need to get out of here. I’m driving."

He watched me for who knows how long, then spat out a mouthful of blood, which contained half a tooth.

"Drive east," he instructed concisely.

I had bet correctly.

This place was truly uninhabited. Without his direction, there was no way I could drive out of here on my own.

We circled downward, passing through all sorts of winding, hidden paths. I don't know how much time had passed when a dark, looming cave entrance appeared before us.

After we went inside, there was a forbidding iron gate.

Chana threw a key at me and said, "Open it."

Teng Qishier had started his business by mining. I realized then that this was an abandoned mine shaft.

The space inside wasn't very large, but it felt like a tiny, secret sanctuary.

On a table, an oil lamp glowed faintly. Beside it was a large sofa bed, a cabinet filled with various exquisite figures, and snacks and mineral water scattered on the ground.

I hadn't eaten anything for over twenty-four hours.

I wondered: should I eat first, or should I kill the Chana behind me?

I shivered—yes, in this deserted place, the animal instinct in my heart seemed to be burning, too.

Just then, a light chuckle came from behind me.

Chana said, "Ren Dongxue, do you know why I hate you?"

I turned back to look at him.

He leaned against the wall and laughed neurotically, "Because that spineless look on your face... it looks exactly like my dad."

"He would bow and scrape to everyone, desperate to lick the soles of their shoes. I’ve looked down on him since I was a child. But I didn't expect that after he was gone, no one would want to deal with me anymore." He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Including those 'friends' of mine—the ones who said they’d die for me."

He kicked the trash at his feet and smashed everything in a fit of madness. "Shitty friends! I gave them everything I had left! I just wanted a car and some money! I’m going to kill them! I’m going to kill them!"

His voice echoed through the empty tunnel like a demon roaring: "I hate betrayal the most! I’m going to kill them! I’m going to kill them!"

It’s over, I thought. Thankfully, I didn't make a move just now. His combat ability is much stronger than I imagined.