Jiang Huaixiao extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, his face expressionless.
"Drive."
The driver swallowed. Not daring to ask where to go, he silently started the engine, and the Bentley drove aimlessly onto the main road.
Jiang Huaixiao leaned back in his seat, pressing his thumb hard against his temple. A vein there kept throbbing; it hadn't stopped since he received the news.
He pressed his fingertip against it and rubbed hard twice. It throbbed even harder, the headache spreading from his temple beneath his eye, the aching pressure extending all the way to the bridge of his nose.
He had relayed only half of what Shen Wangjing had said before leaving. "Tell him to forget me" was the knife he had picked out and handed to Jiang Xun.
And he had swallowed the other half hidden behind that blade.
"I'm in danger right now. Someone is looking for me. If Jiang Xun stays too close to me, they'll target him. I'm entrusting him to you. Take care of him. Don't let him look for me."
Jiang Huaixiao hadn't pressed for details at the time. To him, the "danger" Shen Wangjing spoke of was nothing more than some insignificant trouble that would pass if he lay low for a while.
He had even vaguely felt that this was a perfect opportunity. Shen Wangjing had left of his own accord, saving him the trouble of playing the villain.
But now Jiang Xun had disappeared from the surveillance footage.
The little troubles he had imagined were far more terrifying than he had thought.
Jiang Huaixiao closed his eyes, the vertical crease between his brows sinking deep.
He should have investigated sooner, should have dug up everything behind Shen Wangjing sooner, should have rooted out the people watching Shen Wangjing sooner.
Instead of