The Madman

At the Zhou residence.

A middle-aged man sitting on the sofa furrowed his brows, the hand holding his cigar trembling unconsciously. The man across from him was staring his way, and though his face wore a friendly smile, the aura he exuded was imposingly forceful.

This man was, of course, Mr. Chen.

Zhou Feng's Adam's apple bobbed, but in the end, he let out a sigh. "Mr. Chen, please don't make things difficult for me. I really don't know anything about this."

"You must at least know this woman, right? Jin Sha." Mr. Chen tapped his finger on the photograph lying on the table. At the mention of the name, Zhou Feng fell into a silent stupor.

He stared at the photo, a restless unease and fear flickering deep in his eyes.

"Heh, so this involves you too, huh? You lousy bastard, bringing some foreigner to mess with me." Mr. Chen let out a cold laugh. Zhou Feng's eyes widened immediately, and he quickly spoke.

"I had nothing to do with this. I really don't know a thing, Mr. Chen."

"Hmph."

Seeing Mr. Chen's unwavering stare, Zhou Feng finally seemed to lose control of his emotions. He pressed his palms against his face, his voice hoarse. "I'm a victim here too!"

"Oh?" Surprised by the rasp in Zhou Feng's voice, Mr. Chen shot him a curious glance.

"Let's talk somewhere else, Mr. Chen," Zhou Feng said in a low voice, quickly composing himself.

"Right here is fine. What's there that can't be said?" Mr. Chen replied indifferently.

Zhou Feng, however, nervously looked around. Mr. Chen noticed this and seemed to catch on. "You're being watched?"

"In your own home?" The idea struck Mr. Chen as absurd.

Zhou Feng didn't reply, which was as good as confirmation.

"Then let's find another place." Mr. Chen stood up. Zhou Feng followed close behind, but as they reached the door—bang!—it was shoved open, and several bald men in suits and sunglasses burst in.

"Mr. Chen, you'll have to come with us," one of the men said flatly. "Our mistress requests your presence."

Faced with these sudden arrivals, Mr. Chen appeared entirely unruffled. He glanced at Zhou Feng beside him. "Did you arrange this?"

"No," Zhou Feng shook his head. He'd never do something like that.

The implication was clear enough.

But then Zhou Feng pulled out his phone to call the police. Before he could dial, the bald men swarmed in, grabbed him, and pinned him to the ground.

"Let me go!" Zhou Feng yelled as they restrained him. "Where's security?!"

The surroundings were eerily silent. Not a single guard was in sight.

Zhou Feng turned his head toward his butler. "Call the police!"

But the butler just stared back at him with a strange look, not moving an inch.

"You..." Zhou Feng instantly understood what was happening. "Mr. Chen, run!"

"Run?" Mr. Chen looked at the three or four bald men closing in on him, and couldn't help but feel exasperated. "At my age, there's no way I can outrun a bunch of baldies. I retired from that years ago."

"Mr. Chen, please," the bald man said again.

"And if I refuse?" Mr. Chen asked.

"Then we'll have to be rude." The men stepped forward.

...

A few minutes later.

"Heh, a bunch of cheap thugs." Mr. Chen, now calmly holding a cigarette between his lips, looked down at the bald men pinned to the floor. He clapped the dazed Zhou Feng on the shoulder.

Another group of about a dozen people had appeared on the scene, along with several police officers. A heavyset man in charge was patting down the captives.

"Just a satellite phone, Dad," the heavyset man—Chen Hai, Mr. Chen's son—reported.

He had come with his father but hadn't entered the villa.

"Good. Take them for questioning. I want to know who this woman behind those baldies really is. Daring to try and kidnap me in broad daylight." Mr. Chen nodded.

"Got it."

As the bald men were escorted into the police car, Mr. Chen handed a cigarette to Zhou Feng. "Have a smoke. Pull yourself together."

"Oh..." Zhou Feng, finally steadying himself after watching his own butler get loaded into the car, spoke reluctantly.

"Mr. Chen, I didn't know you had so many people with you. I thought we were done for."

"Of course. I came here to settle a score." Mr. Chen shot him a glance.

"Uh..." Zhou Feng's face flushed with embarrassment.

"Phew..." Mr. Chen exhaled a plume of smoke and asked, "What's Jin Sha's deal? What kind of person could make a big shot like you this scared?"

"A lunatic," Zhou Feng said bitterly.

"A lunatic?"

"Yeah." Zhou Feng seemed at a loss for words. "If you hadn't come to my door today, Mr. Chen, I wouldn't have known she was going after your family too."

Too?

"So I'm not the only one?" Mr. Chen's brow furrowed. This seemed more serious than he thought.

"Yeah. There are many."

"For money?" Mr. Chen asked, sensing the trouble.

"No. I don't really know." Zhou Feng paused, then ventured a guess. "This is just my speculation, but I think she does it for fun. Purely for her own amusement."

"For fun. Well, that helps me understand why you'd call her a lunatic." Mr. Chen eyed Zhou Feng. "And you actually got involved with a woman like that. You're something else."

"..." Zhou Feng went quiet again.

As if desperate to get the secret off his chest, he finally spoke. "I never did."

"Then what about Alice..."

"Biologically, she's my daughter," Zhou Feng said. "But she wasn't born directly from Jin Sha and me. She wasn't even carried by Jin Sha."

The convoluted relationship was enough to make Mr. Chen stop and think it over for a moment.

He felt he understood the meaning of the word "lunatic" even better now.

What a mess.

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know..."

"Enough. I'll look into it."

...

In a luxurious high-end hotel overseas, the delicate sound of a teacup lightly clinking against its saucer rang out. A tall woman clad in black lace sat at a table, apparently enjoying an afternoon tea.

Her skin was very fair—unnaturally so, like a wall freshly coated with white paint—making the bright red of her lips seem all the more jarring, as if stained with blood.

Standing motionless like statues around her were several bald men, acting as bodyguards.

"Madam, the men we sent to the Zhou residence have all been captured," one of the bald men suddenly reported.

"Oh?" The figure in the chair stirred slightly and turned her head. "So useless, are they?"

"We apologize sincerely."

"So what if they were caught?" Jin Sha slowly raised her hand. Though her body was tall and even voluptuous, her hand was withered and wrinkled, like an old tree branch. "Ah, there hasn't been anything interesting happening lately."

She continued, almost as if talking to herself, "Can't something interesting happen?"

Her gaze drifted downward, landing on a certain surveillance camera feed on the monitor before her.