Chapter Thirty-Two: Seeing the Light Again

Chen Ru was on the verge of collapse. He was no fool—in spite of the dizziness caused by those slaps, his mind had never been clearer. He could hardly believe it: the deputy commander Lei had actually come to stand up for that utterly inconspicuous Zhang Wenhao! It was as surreal as a dream—how could the deputy commander of the military district be connected to Zhang Wenhao? To Chen Ru, it felt as if he’d confidently grabbed a chick that could barely walk, only for a tiger to suddenly appear, roaring in its defense.

“Commander Lei,” Chen Ru stammered, clutching his face in panic, “isn’t there some kind of misunderstanding?”

“Misunderstanding?” Lei Zhanyu raised a leg and kicked Chen Ru to the ground, rebuking him angrily. “You know damn well what you’ve done! Still have the gall to talk to me about misunderstandings?”

Then, Lei Zhanyu spoke coldly, “Listen up. I’m giving you five minutes to prepare the documents. In five minutes, I’m personally taking you to the detention center to bring my nephew out. If you waste a single second, you’ll deal with the consequences yourself!”

Terrified, Chen Ru felt his soul slip away. Judging from Lei Zhanyu’s demeanor, if Chen Ru couldn’t satisfy him, he knew he’d face no mercy. His belly burned with rage and grievance, but compared to Lei Zhanyu’s power and background, he was insignificant—a thousand miles beneath him. How could he possibly provoke a man like that?

Chen Ru immediately ordered Xing Jiaqiang, “Hurry and prepare the documents.”

Xing Jiaqiang didn’t dare delay. He rushed back to the office building, and within two or three minutes returned with a document in hand. Ignoring Chen Ru, he handed it directly to Lei Zhanyu, bowing respectfully, “Commander Lei, here are the documents you requested.”

Lei Zhanyu took the release papers and glanced at them. Then he said to Li Biao, “Li Biao, bring a few soldiers, escort these two men onto the truck! Lead the way to Detention Center No. 3!”

“Yes, sir!” Li Biao called over several soldiers, who escorted the two soldiers with swollen faces onto the truck. Then Li Biao returned to his own Leopard vehicle, leading the convoy. Four vehicles left the precinct, heading straight for the detention center.

“Kid, you’re young, but your methods are ruthless. That’s not good. You must learn to keep a low profile, understand? As the saying goes, always leave some room for others, so you can meet again someday.”

Inside the detention center, Chen Feng was giving Zhang Wenhao a lecture. He’d always been curious about Zhang Wenhao’s identity—anyone who could attract Madam’s interest and bring Qingwu here in person couldn’t be ordinary. He’d guessed Zhang Wenhao was remarkable, but hadn’t expected the boy to have such guts. Not only was he bold, he was audacious beyond measure for his age, and his methods were shockingly ruthless. What would become of him in the future?

To Chen Feng, young thugs the same age as Zhang Wenhao sometimes acted even more viciously—many had ended up in prison before reaching eighteen for murder. Yet none of them had ever shaken him the way Zhang Wenhao had today. This boy had skill, courage, and most importantly, a powerful presence that ordinary people rarely possessed when angered.

Zhang Wenhao listened to Chen Feng’s advice calmly, saying, “If people don’t trouble me, I won’t trouble them. It’s not that I’m ruthless—it’s that they pushed me too far. If I couldn’t fight back, they’d be even more ruthless than me.”

Chen Feng shook his head and sighed, “The courage of one against ten thousand is worlds apart from the courage of ten thousand facing one.”

Qinglong grinned from the side, “Hey, new guy, you’re just a car thief. Why are you talking big like you’re some hotshot? You only had one bite at dinner—aren’t you hungry?”

“Bah!” Chen Feng snapped angrily, “That was food meant for dogs! One bite and I wanted to tear Wang Liqing’s bones apart!”

“Easy now,” Qinglong said, curling his lip. “If the guards hear you, you’ll be in trouble.”

“They wouldn’t dare!” Chen Feng laughed disdainfully, though he felt frustrated inside. Qingwu had really made a fuss out of nothing, sending him to the detention center to look after Zhang Wenhao. He had hundreds of men capable of handling the job, but Qingwu had insisted he come personally. Life here was nothing he could bear—the food, lodging, and everything else was abysmal. He’d never tasted prison food in his life, but thanks to Zhang Wenhao, he’d had the dubious honor.

Just then, a prison guard hurried over, opened the door, and said to Zhang Wenhao, “Zhang Wenhao, pack up. Someone’s here to pick you up.”

“What?” Zhang Wenhao stood up in surprise. “Who’s here for me?”

“Your parents,” the guard replied anxiously. “For heaven’s sake, hurry up. If that army officer gets angry, I can’t take the blame.”

Zhang Wenhao, still uncertain, turned to the others and said, “I’ll go see what’s going on.” The group was just as confused, and Zhang Wenhao stepped out as the guard closed the door behind him.

As they walked, the guard spoke nervously, “Brother Zhang, these past two days, we’ve never given you any trouble. Please don’t hold it against us later. We’re just small officers trying to earn a living—feeding our families isn’t easy.”

Zhang Wenhao was even more bewildered, but followed the guard to the office area. When the door swung open, he saw his parents standing right there!

“Wenhao!” His mother, Song Huafang, rushed forward and pulled Zhang Wenhao into her arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Zhang Xingping came over too, wrapping his wife and son in a silent embrace—no words, only tears streaming down his face.

Overcome with joy, Zhang Wenhao wept as well. He’d never imagined that a moment before, he was resigned to spending years in prison, but in the next instant, he was reunited with his parents, whom he’d yearned for day and night.

At this moment, Lei Zhanyu stepped forward and spoke gently to Zhang Xingping, “Brother Zhang, since the child is safe, let’s not linger here. I’ve had Li Biao book a restaurant. Let’s go and welcome Wenhao home.”

Zhang Xingping hurriedly replied, “Zhanyu, you’ve helped our family so much—I can’t let you go to such trouble. Let me arrange dinner tonight.”

“No need,” Lei Zhanyu waved him off. “No formalities between us. Let’s go; Li Biao has already gone ahead.”

Zhang Xingping hesitated briefly before nodding in agreement.

Zhang Wenhao looked at the man in uniform before him and realized this must be his father’s friend from the military district. He owed today’s reunion to his help. Gratefully, he said, “Uncle, thank you so much!”

Lei Zhanyu smiled, “Good lad, I’ve heard about what you did. You’ve got spirit—you didn’t disgrace your father!” Then, pointing coldly at Chen Ru and Xing Jiaqiang, who stood sheepishly behind him, he said, “If these types ever bully you again, call me. Next time, I’ll break their legs!”

Zhang Wenhao had seen Chen Ru on TV before, and though his face was swollen, he still recognized him—astonished. Clearly, Lei Zhanyu was responsible for Chen Ru’s injuries. Who exactly was Lei Zhanyu, that he could beat Chen Ru without fear of retaliation? His influence must be extraordinary, yet his father had never spoken of him in detail.

Lei Zhanyu accompanied the family out of the detention center. Following behind, meek and respectful, were Chen Ru, Xing Jiaqiang, and Wang Liqing, the center’s warden.

When they reached the cars, Lei Zhanyu turned to the group and said, “Get lost, all of you. Don’t make me come after you again!”

The men acted as though pardoned, hurriedly thanked him, and departed. Lei Zhanyu ignored them, seating Zhang Wenhao’s family in the back of the Audi while he took the front passenger seat. He instructed a company commander to return to the military district with his troops, then told the driver to head for the finest hotel in Jiangcheng.

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