When Narrow Paths Meet, the Brave Win

"Screech—"

Li Mao had just stepped out of the hospital gates. Before the hand in his pocket could even find his cigarette pack, a Maserati slammed to a stop mere centimeters in front of him, blocking his way.

The near-accident drew soft gasps and murmurs from the surrounding crowd.

Yet the person who had nearly been hit hard enough to be split in two was astonishingly calm.

The loose strands over Li Mao's forehead fluttered a few times in the gust from the sudden stop.

Under the crowd's watchful eyes, he lowered his head, pulled the slightly crumpled cigarette pack from his pocket, skillfully placed one between his lips, and, amid the engine's roar, shielded the flame with one hand while lighting it with the other.

Only after the cigarette tip glowed with tiny embers and his first breath of smoke drifted from his parted lips

did Li Mao slowly raise his head and meet the overly burning gaze inside the car.

He had known that Wan Fuqi, that mad dog, would catch his scent and come looking sooner or later.

What had happened at that shady clinic definitely had not been a coincidence.

Perhaps from the moment they first met, none of his every move had escaped this man's eyes.

Still, he had been getting by in Willow City for nearly ten years.

Throwing a little misdirection at Wan Fuqi, an upper-class newcomer, and buying himself some time would not be a problem.

At least now, there was a clear way to get rid of the mark that had been troubling him.

Standing before the car, Li Mao kept one hand in his pocket and took drag after drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

Inside the car, Wan Fuqi gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his face dark as he stared at the Alpha who refused to yield.

"Vroom—"

In the end, the younger, more hot-blooded Enigma was the first to cave.

The previously motionless sports car suddenly spun its wheels at high speed.

The sheer force of it seemed to say that he would not stop until he had smashed the Alpha before him to pieces, ground him into pulp, and turned him into something that would never disobey him again. It perfectly illustrated Wan Fuqi's fury.

Sparks flew where the rubber tires scraped against the rough pavement, and the deafening roar of the engine drove off many of the onlookers.

Even the cars trapped behind them, whose drivers had been laying on their horns without pause, fell silent in tacit agreement.

They were afraid of getting dragged into some inexplicable traffic homicide.

The calmest person there was undoubtedly Li Mao, standing in front of the car where even the slightest release of Wan Fuqi's brake would leave him so mangled even his mother would not recognize him.

"Whew..."

Li Mao narrowed his eyes slightly, casting a flippant sideways glance at Wan Fuqi, whose veins had risen at his temples, and slowly exhaled his final puff of smoke.

He raised a hand, removed the cigarette that had burned down to the filter from his mouth, lowered his gaze and head, then ground the butt out against the Maserati's hood.

In an instant, the entire world went quiet.

The engine's roar and the grinding of tires died together with the cigarette butt.

Li Mao did not look up at Wan Fuqi again. With one hand still in his pocket, he rolled the poor cigarette butt between his fingers until it was bent out of shape and he could no longer exert any more force. Only then did he release it, leaving it lodged in the glaring scar burned into the hood.

After finishing that entire display of his attitude, Li Mao, with remarkable self-awareness, climbed straight into Wan Fuqi's passenger seat.

Madmen did not reason.

Compared with being smashed into oblivion, he cared more about Wan Fuqi saying the things he hated hearing most in public.

Besides, he had a few answers to seek from this man now.

Though Li Mao had his own selfish reasons for getting into Wan Fuqi's car, after climbing in, he still ignored the Enigma, whose breathing was noticeably heavier than usual, and pulled out his cigarette pack again, intending to light another one.

With a cigarette between his lips, he fumbled for his lighter and muttered impatiently, "D-drive, hurry up and drive. E-even if you're a d-dog, you dogs have a saying too, don't you? A g-good dog d-doesn't block the road."

Having endured for long enough, Wan Fuqi finally could not hold back. He snatched the cigarette from Li Mao's mouth and crushed it in his palm.

Li Mao's gaze followed the cigarette closely—the good brand he had splurged on to celebrate escaping the devil's clutches.

Watching it meet its demise in that mad dog's hand, he howled in distress, "What the f-fuck is wrong with you?! Th-that was my good c-cigarette!"

Wan Fuqi did not know whether the little stutter was genuinely stupid or merely pretending. He had gotten into his car, yet he was still playing dumb and fussing over a few lousy cigarettes.

He opened his hand, letting the shredded tobacco fall from his palm.

Then he seized Li Mao by the collar and kissed him forcefully.

For once, Li Mao did not bristle. At first, he made a few instinctively resistant "mmph" sounds, but afterward, he simply let the other man do as he pleased.

Perhaps that action greatly soothed Wan Fuqi's emotions.

After a kiss that could hardly be called a reunion after a long separation, Wan Fuqi lightly brushed his nose against Li Mao's cheek twice and asked knowingly, "Is my darling feeling unwell? What did you come to the hospital for?"

Li Mao shoved away the arm Wan Fuqi had wrapped around him and leaned back in the passenger seat. As he rubbed the moisture from his lips with the back of his hand, he silently rolled his eyes.

Wan Fuqi had blocked him right outside the hospital. Could he really not have found out why Li Mao was there?

Li Mao replied with barbed words, "Sh-shouldn't I be asking you that? I came to the hospital b-because I was marked by an i-in-heat mad d-dog asshole. You came here b-because of that too?"

Still benefiting from the kiss, Wan Fuqi started the car with a bright smile and moved aside from the lane that had long since become completely jammed.

After parking in the hospital lot, he turned with a smile to look at Li Mao, who had rubbed his lips two shades redder.

"I came to the hospital because I was worried about my missing wife. Have you seen an Alpha with a very perky ass, long golden hair, the scent of green apples, who's been marked, and who looks like he's just begging to be fucked?"

Li Mao's fist at his side tightened and tightened until his knuckles turned white. After several rounds of inner struggle, he still held back from punching the Enigma who was dancing all over his land mines.

Showing his little white teeth, he gave a smile that did not reach his eyes. "N-nope, haven't seen him. I just saw one in the m-morgue. Go a-ask around. With a face l-like yours, you look l-like you bring bad luck to your wife. M-maybe you killed him."

"Is that so?"

The softly spoken words that left Wan Fuqi's mouth were always more threatening than his emotional, teeth-gritted remarks.

Without showing it, Li Mao reached for the door switch, ready to make a run for it if things went south.

But while Wan Fuqi's hearing was not so great, his eyesight was perfect.

"Click."

The sound of the door locking made Li Mao whip his head around.

Before he could react, Wan Fuqi's husky voice sounded beside his ear.

"Isn't my wife alive and well right here?"