Qiqi turned her head—Xia Liu.
That guy had been having a rough time lately, ruined reputation, dirt poor, even the space between his brows looked dark and ominous. When he saw Gu Qiqi, it was like spotting his mortal enemy, a vicious glint flashing in his eyes.
Qiqi sensed trouble—she’d been on guard against him and Mrs. Zhou retaliating, so she rarely went out, and when she did, Rong Yi was always there to protect her. But now, she’d arranged to meet Zhuang Ruotang, and somehow he knew? Was it just a coincidence?
She didn’t have time to figure out the reason, though. She spun around and lunged for the door, screaming “Help!” at the top of her lungs.
But before she could take two steps, she crumpled to the ground, her throat hoarse, unable to make a sound. Qiqi instantly remembered the cup of tea she’d drunk in the restaurant lobby—hadn’t that waiter just brought it over? Had they drugged it?
Oh god, no one was coming to her rescue, no matter how much she cried out.
Xia Liu pounced like a tiger, pinning her hands down. With his right hand, he pulled out a roll of tape and, in a few swift moves, bound her tightly. Then he slapped a strip of tape over her mouth. She was completely helpless now.
“Mmph, mmph…” Qiqi struggled desperately, staring at Xia Liu in terror, not knowing what he planned to do.
Xia Liu let out a sly chuckle, slipped a black cloth bag over her head, and hoisted her up: “Heh heh, your time’s up.”
Qiqi was scared out of her wits—was he going to kill her to silence her? No, more like kill her out of spite? But the one who tipped off the reporters really wasn’t me!
Too bad her mouth was taped shut now; she couldn’t defend herself.
Xia Liu carried her a short distance before setting her down. Qiqi tried to figure out where they were—such a short walk meant they were probably in the parking lot. Then, he suddenly tossed her to the ground, and her forehead smacked against cold metal with a dull thud—sure enough, she was inside a car.
Where was he taking her? What did he want with her? Torture? Dismemberment? Drowning? Or making a human-skin lantern?
Every horror movie she’d ever seen flooded her mind, and Qiqi began trembling all over.
Just then, the engine started, and soon they were on the road. Through the sounds of people, honking horns, and the city’s rumbling chaos filtering in from both sides, Qiqi felt an overwhelming sense of how precious life was.
She kept struggling to break free, but after a few movements, a cold, hard object pressed down on her face—whose high heel was that? Ouch, go easy, you’re going to ruin my face!
I’m never wearing high heels again, mmph.
Then, the owner of the high heel spoke, her voice dripping with hatred, almost grinding her teeth: “Stay still.”
It was Mrs. Zhou’s voice—Qiqi remembered it.
She froze for a moment—Mrs. Zhou had gotten her hands dirty herself? But after the data leak incident last time, Mrs. Zhou had taken a hit too, so holding a grudge made sense.
Still, it wasn’t me who leaked that data, okay?
She groaned inwardly, but Mrs. Zhou couldn’t hear her silent protests. The high heel ground against the girl’s face, as if determined to scar her right then and there.
Qiqi wailed inside—Bai Zhi, you’re such an idiot! The one who sold you out wasn’t me, so why take it out on my face?
The car drove for a long time. Gradually, the city’s noise faded from Qiqi’s ears, replaced by stillness, even the rustle of trees and birdsong. Qiqi realized—she’d been taken to a remote forest on the outskirts.