BL Ch124

A brief silence fell over the deck.

Fei Zheng broke it with a chuckle, entering the password. “President Yu’s got a knack for charming his lover.”

Yu Duqiu exhaled inwardly.

His long-crafted playboy image had its perks. Thanks to his notorious reputation, Fei Zheng didn’t overthink the password, assuming it was set to please his current fling.

As for Bai Zhao’s feelings… the sudden gleam in his eyes said it all.

If the situation weren’t so dire, the guy’s tail would probably be wagging sky-high.

And himself… Yu Duqiu didn’t want to dwell on it.

He’d always mocked others’ “sappy,” “cringe,” “fake devotion,” yet secretly used Bai Zhao’s name and birthday as his password. Now, that little slip was in someone’s hands.

Bai Zhao cleared his throat, knowing now wasn’t the time to gloat, forcing his gaze off Yu Duqiu to ask Fei Zheng, “What’s your plan after the money? The yacht’s wrecked—we can’t swim out.”

“There’s a small speedboat on the top deck. We’ll lower it with the crane later—five hundred nautical miles, no problem.” Fei Zheng worked the laptop with ease. “By the time the cops show, we’ll be long gone.”

While Fei Zheng was distracted, Yu Duqiu’s fingers pressed lightly behind his back. A sharp blade snapped out from the ring’s sides, pressing against the thin fishing line.

Bai Zhao glanced at the higher deck—sure enough, a speedboat sat there. Large yachts often carried speedboats, jet skis, even submersibles—rich folks’ toys for freer fun at sea. Fei Zheng had clearly studied Yu Duqiu’s yacht.

“But that boat looks tiny. Can it fit all of us?”

“All of us? Who’s ‘us’?” Fei Zheng looked up, flashing a grin, voice low enough for just them. “Just you and me, no?”

Bai Zhao froze, then grasped the chilling intent.

Everyone else was to die here.

“…What about President Du?” Bai Zhao asked softly, Du Shuyan and the others, meters away, oblivious. “Even him…?”

Fei Zheng typed swiftly. “He’s not coming. Can’t leave his business. He’s like that—indecisive. What can you do?”

Was it imagination, or did his words carry a trace of warmth?

Bai Zhao pressed, “You think the cops are idiots? One survivor on a whole ship—they’ll suspect.”

“Suspect what? I’ve handled everything—he’s clean, start to finish. The cops have nothing on him.” Fei Zheng paused. “Done, President Yu. I’m in the interface. What’s the key?”

Yu Duqiu halted his hands, replying coldly, “Dead either way, why give you ten billion for free? By the rules, pay the ransom, I get a pass, no?”

The nearby crew, hearing this, trembled in fear, each dreading their fate. The weaker ones sobbed quietly, afraid to cry louder, lest they anger the bandit and catch a bullet first.

“It’s a ransom, alright—for redemption.”

A sea breeze drifted in, Fei Zheng’s soft whisper like a devil’s murmur, raising goosebumps. “You think I went through all this, luring you back to the country, kidnapping you repeatedly, just for money?”

Yu Duqiu’s pupils quaked, a quick blink hiding his shock.

All their “settled” theories shattered with “lured you back.” He swiftly gathered every word, every clue, reshaping the story, asking in disbelief, “When did I ever cross you?”

“You brag about being a genius with a perfect memory, huh? All for show.” Fei Zheng snorted, dodging the topic, aiming at his heart. “Give me the password, and I’ll spare your mother. Otherwise, I’ll kill her eventually… She’s part of why I’m in this mess.”

Palace No. 1.

Zhao Feihua hadn’t expected to sit in his boss’s living room for over three hours.

Yu Duqiu’s yacht was likely dozens of nautical miles out, yet no news came. That was fine—maybe they were busy handling criminals. But sharing the room with Yu Jiangyue made him uneasy.

The big boss was tough, far less approachable than her ever-smiling son. Zhao Feihua had finished his duties, pretended to be busy for half an hour, and, with nothing left to do, hesitated before stammering, “Uh… Madam Yu, anything else you need me for?”

Yu Jiangyue’s face held a constant anxious look: brows furrowed, staring at the glass coffee table, as if wrestling with a complex math problem. Without glancing at him, she replied curtly, “Nothing for now.”

Nothing for now meant maybe later. Zhao Feihua had to keep waiting.

Thankfully, Jia Jin, gone for hours, finally returned—running.

“Madam Yu! I-I found it!”

Yu Jiangyue shot up. “Well? Is it him?”

Jia Jin nodded, panting. “Yes, you were right!”

Zhao Feihua was lost, feeling like they were speaking in riddles. Before he could ask, Yu Jiangyue’s face froze, staggering back two steps, muttering, “My fault… all my fault… ugh!”

She grabbed her handbag, striding out. “Both of you, with me to the police station. Zhao Feihua!”

“Yes!”

Something flew through the air. Zhao Feihua caught it—Yu Jiangyue’s phone.

“Call Duqiu, keep calling until someone answers! Whoever picks up, tell them to stop what they’re doing—I need to speak to him!”

“Beep… The number you’ve dialed is off…”

Another failed call. Lu Qing set down the phone, sweating anxiously. “Why’s Ji-ge’s phone still off? It’s been ten minutes since his last call! Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Xu Sheng, fresh off a call with the maritime bureau, was equally frazzled. “Don’t panic. The coast guard’s en route. Xiao Ji might’ve turned it off to avoid interference. Doesn’t mean trouble.”

They said it, but both knew a yacht, barely sixty meters long, offered little space for guerrilla tactics. Ten minutes was enough for a full sweep. Yet no word came—not from Ji Lin, the city bureau’s two cops, or Yu Duqiu’s men. The ship’s situation looked grim.

“Xu Team! Xiao Lu!” Niu Feng ran up, shouting, “Chief Peng wants everyone over! Captain Feng’s got something to say!”

The task force gathered at the city bureau. This four-month case had reached a critical juncture, with dozens on the yacht silent. No one dared slack off.

Entering the meeting room, Xu Sheng and the others saw Feng Jinmin’s grave face. He opened with, “You’re interrogating that homeowner, right?”

Xu Sheng nodded, reporting promptly, “Yes. Per Xu Ming’s testimony, Du Shuyan’s the mastermind behind Du Weiming’s crash, suspecting Du Weiming poisoned his father with slow-acting drugs. Fei Zheng supplied the means and drug source. Xu Ming’s likely an accomplice—Fei Zheng tasked him with buying the apartment, saying it held special meaning. I’ve sent people to check its prior tenants…”

“No need,” Feng Jinmin cut in. “I think I know what’s going on.”

Xu Sheng, Lu Qing, and the others exchanged confused looks, unsure why he’d ask urgently then dismiss it.

Peng Deyu, in sync with him, reacted first. “Old Feng, you dig something up?”

After the recent report on Yu Duqiu’s childhood kidnapping, Feng Jinmin, leveraging his position, visited all twelve cops involved in the rescue, pulling two all-nighters. Fatigue etched every wrinkle on his face.

He nodded, voice hoarse with his findings. “If I hadn’t asked myself, I’d never have known the bizarre details. Even that Yu kid’s probably been kept in the dark by his family.”

Peng Deyu pressed, “What’s the deal? Wasn’t it a standard kidnapping?”

Feng Jinmin shook his head, sipping tea to ease his dry throat. “When the kidnapper Yang Yongjian called the Yu family, he didn’t just demand ransom. His main demand was for Yu Duqiu’s grandpa to halt brain-computer interface research.”

That term hadn’t come up in a while; Lu Qing nearly forgot it, asking, “Wasn’t the kidnapper just a driver? What’s Yu’s research got to do with him?”

Peng Deyu slapped his shiny forehead, epiphany striking. “Twenty years ago, Yu’s student Cen Wan died over that research. Two years later, Yu wanted to restart it, fulfilling Cen Wan’s legacy, alarming certain people. They bribed the family driver to kidnap Yu Duqiu, threatening his life to scare Yu into backing off, right?”

Feng Jinmin nodded. “Exactly.”

Lu Qing, mind clicking, gaped. “The one who bribed the driver was…?”

“Likely Pei Xianyong,” Xu Sheng concluded. “Yu probably suspected, but Yang Yongjian was shot dead by police, no chance to name his backer. Pei Xianyong was sly, leaving no evidence of hiring him. To protect his family, Yu had to abandon the research.”

“No wonder Yu’s family fiercely opposed his project…” Lu Qing murmured. “But… that’s not the version Yu told. Ji-ge said Yang Yongjian was kind to him, only kidnapping for ransom due to a sick family and desperation. He even cooperated…”

Midsentence, she got it.

An eight- or nine-year-old kid, kidnapped, would cry nonstop, risking exposure. Yu Duqiu, sharp from childhood, could’ve devised escape plans. To keep him quiet, Yang Yongjian exploited a child’s naive kindness, spinning a sob story.

Even adult Yu Duqiu likely couldn’t fathom such human malice.

Lu Qing covered her mouth, pained. “Poor Mr. Yu… He still thinks he caused Yang Yongjian’s death…”

Feng Jinmin sighed. “A driver getting real guns? Police killing a harmless civilian? They knew Yang Yongjian’s true intent, that he could kill the hostage anytime, so they shot decisively. He deserved it. The Yu kid was too sheltered. His mom, to spare him further trauma and worsening his condition, erased all reports and info on the kidnapper, like he never existed. They even settled Yang Yongjian’s family.”

Xu Sheng, grasping the backstory, still had one question. “Per your account, that recent report was written by someone in the know, but how’s it tied to the apartment I’m investigating? Why’d you say I don’t need to check?”

“It’s tied, alright—a jaw-dropping tie,” Feng Jinmin said. Never one for suspense, his buildup showed even he was shocked by his findings.

As he started to explain, a detective burst in, urgently saying, “Captain Feng! Chief Peng! Yu Duqiu’s mother’s here. She says it’s critical, tied to everyone’s lives on the ship. Can’t wait a second—let her in?”

Past noon, the sea’s fickle weather turned overcast. Clouds piled up, the breeze chilled, waves swelled, rocking the battered yacht on the endless ocean.

Click!

Fei Zheng hit enter, watching the transfer confirmation pop up, exhaling satisfied. He pulled a box of candies from his pocket, popping one in. “Thanks, President Yu. For your generosity, I’ll make your death quick.”

Yu Duqiu tightened his grip on the ring and the cut fishing line, glancing at the deck’s edges.

It was time.

From spotting Hong Yuanhang’s speedboat to the collision, he’d had two or three minutes. He could’ve fled to the bow like Fei Zheng and Du Shuyan but sacrificed escape time for this moment.

He knew if the speedboat carried weapons, running was futile—a fight was inevitable. He had to win and uncover the full truth before winning.

The only issue: Ji Lin didn’t know his impromptu plan.

He hoped their rapport held.

The two bodyguards who’d searched the ship returned, reporting to Fei Zheng, “We checked everywhere—top to bottom, no sign of them. The four are either overboard or fled. They’re not on board. The speedboat’s lowered, ready to go.”

Fei Zheng’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of doubt, but time was tight. “Fine, I’ll deal with them and we’re out—Shuyan! Put on a life jacket. Jump when we leave; cops’ll be here soon.”

He planned to make Du Shuyan look like he escaped by jumping.

“Okay…” Du Shuyan replied weakly, seeming worse, hand on his forehead, face bloodless.

Hong Liangzhang, bleeding stopped, sat quietly with Hong Yuanhang, nervously eyeing Du Shuyan, then fearfully glancing their way.

Fei Zheng moved fast. From crash to now, in just fifteen minutes, he was nearly done, ready to flee with the cash. Yet, for some reason, he pulled out his phone, lens and gun aimed at Yu Duqiu, smiling. “Any last words, President Yu? I’ll send this video to your mom.”

Bai Zhao’s fists clenched, poised to strike.

Something flashed by the upper deck stairs, too quick for most, but Yu Duqiu’s sharp eyes caught it, heart tightening. He stayed calm, saying, “I’m curious… You take the fall for your boss’s crimes—what’s he give you? Money? I just handed you enough for lifetimes. Why still help him kill me?”

“No need for mind games, President Yu,” Fei Zheng said. “If I cared about money, I wouldn’t have paid for his shipments myself.”

That was wild—no wonder Du Shuyan’s accounts were clean. Even Yu Duqiu looked stunned. “Where’d you get that kind of cash?”

Fei Zheng shrugged. “Made plenty doing ‘business’ in the U.S. Back here, I took a big job… No harm telling you. Shuyan’s second uncle hired me. I just returned Du family money to him.”

Yu Duqiu’s mind raced, connecting dots. “Du Yuanzhen… You killed him?”

Fei Zheng, treating him like a dead man, answered freely, “Yup. Sibling rivalry—rich family drama. Shuyan tailed Du Weiming, but he was no match for that old fox. Got spotted before reaching the hideout, nearly stabbed to death. Panicked, he ran into me, begging me to save him, haha…”

Begging his father’s killer for help—absurd and laughable. Fei Zheng’s laughter grew, catching Du Shuyan, now in a life jacket, who looked over, confused.

“But you saved him, even killed your former employer, protecting him since,” Yu Duqiu said, baffled. “What’s he to you? A fun toy? A tool for atonement?”

Fei Zheng’s laughter stopped, crunching the candy, eyes blazing red. “No, you’re the tool for atonement. Almost forgot—I commission a painting for you yearly. Last year’s got intercepted by cops. This year, I’ll paint one myself and burn it for you. Chat’s over—”

A cloud cast a shadow over his face, his grim gaze surging with killing intent. “I hate guns, but for you, it’s a must. Bon voyage, Yu Duqiu—”

Bang!

The gunshot exploded by their ears, and every tied crew member squeezed their eyes shut, too scared to witness their boss’s gruesome death.

Captain Sun, closest to Yu Duqiu, too terrified to look, sensed something off.

The shot… didn’t come from nearby.

“Tch, should’ve gone for the head.” Ji Lin raised his gun again.

At the same moment, Fei Zheng swayed, phone clattering to the deck, shock flashing in his eyes, followed by feral rage. His finger snapped to the trigger!

Bang!

The second shot hit the deck’s railing. Captain Sun froze, watching a black hole appear in the hollow aluminum by his head.

Yu Duqiu, at the first shot, saw no bullet pierce Fei Zheng’s chest—he was wearing a vest.

A small-caliber pistol, fired from seven or eight meters, would only bruise and sting. Enraged and rushed, Fei Zheng would prioritize his main goal—silencing him.

Though the reason wasn’t clear, Yu Duqiu knew as long as he lived, he was the sole target.

In a split second, he dodged sideways. As expected, Fei Zheng fired at him. Simultaneously, Bai Zhao lunged, twisting his wrist, throwing the shot off.

The situation gave no breathing room. Fei Zheng, likely trained, showed brief surprise but instinctively attacked the traitor, flipping his coat to grab another gun from his waist.

Yu Duqiu, dragging his broken arm, pounced, locking his other arm, slashing with the ruby ring’s blade!

A flash of light, the sharp blade slicing through Fei Zheng’s suit and shirt, a gash running down his forearm, blood gushing.

Fei Zheng’s eyes blazed, roaring to his allies, “Move!”

Hong Yuanhang, primed for combat but inexperienced, shakily aimed at Yu Duqiu among the grappling trio. As he squeezed the trigger, a wrinkled hand pushed his gun down.

He froze, turning, when another Bang! rang out.

Du Shuyan’s two armed bodyguards fired at the sudden Ji Lin. The open deck offered little cover; Ji Lin rolled behind a hot tub. A bullet chipped the ceramic edge, shards flying, clear water gushing out, splashing everywhere.

One bodyguard, hearing Fei Zheng’s shout, swung his gun—

Bai Zhao’s heavy fist slammed Fei Zheng’s gut, fast and brutal. Fei Zheng doubled over, the vest blocking another shot.

But they had only Ji Lin with a gun against four. How could blades and fists match firearms?

With the next bullet seconds from hitting an innocent hostage, Ji Lin steeled himself: take the king!

As the enemy’s assault weakened, he seized the moment, leaping out. Years of training erupted—he shot one bodyguard, who screamed and fell. The other spun, firing multiple shots, terrifying the tied crew, who wailed and prayed for stray bullets to miss.

The enemy was agile, missing Ji Lin’s vitals, but one shot avenged their ally—

Ji Lin’s sprint faltered, nearly collapsing, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the railing, vaulting to the lower deck. Before the bodyguard pursued, he aimed at Fei Zheng on the upper bow. “Yu! Get down!”

He’d wanted Fei Zheng alive for answers, but now, this menace needed to die.

Yu Duqiu, hearing the call, ducked low in sync. Fei Zheng, quick, realized his head was exposed and crouched.

Bai Zhao clamped Fei Zheng’s other side, preventing shots and dragging him into Ji Lin’s line of fire. Together, they restrained the ferocious devil, not daring to ease up.

From the first shot, mere seconds passed. Victory hung on a thread—if Ji Lin hit Fei Zheng, or Bai Zhao disarmed him, they could kill all enemies, turning the tide. If not, this churning sea would be their grave—

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three rapid shots exploded, like thunder, piercing the sky.

Ji Lin froze, mind blank.

It wasn’t him, Fei Zheng, or the bodyguards.

A figure swayed before him, then crashed down!

“Duqiu!!!”

“Young master!!!”

Two anguished cries erupted, earth-shattering.

Hong Yuanhang’s trembling gun barrel smoked faintly, quickly dispersed by the breeze. His face contorted in pain, nearly matching his grandpa’s wrinkles, pale lips stammering, “Sorry… Grandpa… If they don’t die, we do… I-I don’t want to die…”

Yu Duqiu lay on the wet deck, clutching his waist, coughing in agony, slowly lifting heavy eyelids to see the black gun barrel aimed at him again.

A familiar scene, replayed countless times in his nightmares. But this time, he was the one to die.

“Redeem yourself,” Fei Zheng’s manic, gloating sneer rang out. “You’re no god, saving no one, not even yourself. You’re just… a vile murderer.”

Bang!