Chapter 374: Big Sis Splurges 300,000 Just for a Smile

‘This excuse is worth three hundred thousand.’

Wan Ze had to laugh.

‘This woman has no idea I’m Wan Ze. She thinks I’m just one of his men.’

‘She’s going to all this trouble to buy off “Wan Ze’s man,” trying to create an information gap between the subordinate and his boss, completely unaware that the man she’s trying to bribe is the boss himself.’

‘This works out, though.’

He had no intention of revealing his identity.

Seeing his silence, Xiao Ya assumed he was hesitating and added, “There’s really no need to get Dragon Eagle involved so quickly. Once they step in, you’ll completely lose your value. Of course, Wan Ze can come talk to me himself. But you…”

She looked at Wan Ze’s mask, her gaze shifting to his eyes.

Xiao Ya suddenly gave a playful wink, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. “You can be our liaison. In all of Dragon Eagle… I trust only you.”

Wan Ze was inwardly amused.

‘This woman really has a way with words.’

The line “In all of Dragon Eagle… I trust only you…” both flattered him immensely and implied that she had no other connections inside; all cooperation would have to go through him alone.

In this way, he would become the sole channel between her and Wan Ze, an indispensable figure.

In truth, Xiao Ya’s real intention was to limit their cooperation to just the two of them, rather than getting Dragon Eagle involved.

She hadn’t yet reached a point where she was forced to work with Dragon Eagle… those people were far more ruthless than one might imagine—they’d eat you alive and not even spit out the bones.

A lone woman like her was no match for them.

But if she could truly get in with Wan Ze, that wouldn’t be a bad outcome either.

Hall Master Dragon Eagle’s closed-door disciple… That status alone was more than enough.

But Wan Ze, for his part, was completely immune to her charms.

“…”

Xiao Ya cursed inwardly. ‘Blockhead.’

A flicker of embarrassment crossed her face, but she quickly recovered her calm demeanor.

During this time, she tried to pry some information about Wan Ze out of him.

But Wan Ze remained completely unresponsive.

After a few failed attempts, Xiao Ya saw she wasn’t getting anywhere and wisely fell silent.

The scene was almost perfectly staged.

Xiao Ya stood by the car, watching her men at work. Her shawl flapped in the wind blowing off the river, and her hair was a mess. A few strands clung to her face, but she didn’t brush them away. Instead, she looked at Wan Ze.

“My people are professionals. Even if experts from Dragon Eagle show up, they’ll confirm that a major battle took place here. You don’t need to worry about the aftermath. You can even call Wan Ze right now and have him ask about Zhao Henian’s situation.”

Without turning his head, Wan Ze said, “Have your people follow me. We’re all going back together. Don’t try to pull anything. It won’t do you any good.”

“Don’t you worry.” Xiao Ya’s voice took on a flirtatious lilt, the ends of her words rising as if she were trying to charm him.

But Wan Ze kept his eyes fixed forward, not even sparing her a glance.

Xiao Ya’s expression froze for a moment. This time, she didn’t try again.

Wan Ze’s hand was in his pocket, gripping his communicator.

His thumb moved quickly over the keys, typing out a message to Zhao Henian without looking.

*Hengjiang is handled. What’s your status?*

He hit send.

Then he waited.

One second. Two. Three.

No reply.

Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.

Still nothing.

Wan Ze’s heart sank.

He sent another message. *Old Zhao?*

He sent it.

Again, no reply.

His finger paused on the communicator. He locked the screen and shoved the device back into his pocket.

His expression darkened.

‘If something really happened to Zhao Henian, then the final five-million payment, those Martial Skills, and those antiques… he’d have to get every last bit of it back from Xiao Ya.’

‘No, not just get it back. He’d have to add interest!’

Wan Ze turned his head, glaring viciously at Xiao Ya.

‘This woman is going to pay dearly for this!’

Wan Ze thought, grinding his teeth.

Suddenly, he turned to face Xiao Ya and held out his hand without a word.

Xiao Ya understood him immediately. She pulled her communicator out from under her shawl. The screen lit up, revealing a significant number of unread messages.

But Xiao Ya simply pressed the power button, and as the screen went dark, she placed the device in Wan Ze’s hand.

Zhang Chong frowned, but seeing Xiao Ya’s decisive action, he followed suit. He pulled his own communicator from his pocket, turned it off without any tricks, and handed it over.

The other three gunmen exchanged a look, then took out their communicators one by one, turned them off, and surrendered them.

Wan Ze took the five communicators and, with a sudden squeeze, crushed them all in his hands.

“You—!” Zhang Chong froze, looking agitated.

“You have a problem?” Wan Ze’s gaze swept over him. Zhang Chong stiffly averted his eyes, pretending he hadn’t seen a thing.

It was clear at a glance who was at whose mercy.

…

Wan Ze led Xiao Ya and her four companions into the villa.

He had rarely visited since Miss Ling gave him the keys.

Xiao Ya followed him, a light-gray cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders, one end hanging over her chest and swaying gently with her steps. Her high heels made a rhythmic tapping sound on the marble floor, crisp but not piercing.

Zhang Chong walked slightly behind and to the side of Xiao Ya, maintaining a distance of about half a meter—close enough to instantly shield her in an emergency.

However, his left leg had been injured on Hengjiang Bridge, causing him to walk with a slight limp. The blood had been wiped from his face, but his expression remained grim.

The other three gunmen brought up the rear.

Their injuries had also been given basic treatment.

The six of them entered a guest suite.

The suite was spacious, divided into a living room and a bedroom.

The living room had dark wood floors that creaked underfoot. A piece of calligraphy hung on the wall, its cursive script forming three words: “Tranquility Yields Transcendence.”

Below the calligraphy was a long, narrow console table.

A set of light gray fabric sofas with thick cushions occupied the center of the living room.

In front of the sofas was a rectangular coffee table with a transparent, tempered glass top, through which a few magazines could be seen on the shelf below.

Wan Ze sat down in an armchair against the wall, leaving his mask on.

Xiao Ya sat on the adjacent sofa. She didn’t lean back, but perched on the front edge with her back straight and her legs neatly together and angled to one side, a clear sign of excellent etiquette training.

Her shawl slipped slightly, and she reached up to adjust it before folding her hands in her lap and looking calmly at Wan Ze.

Zhang Chong stood by the wall, about a meter to the right of where Xiao Ya was sitting.

He remained standing, his hands hanging naturally at his sides and his back ramrod-straight. He appeared relaxed, but was actually coiled with tension, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

His eyes, when they fell on Wan Ze, were filled with complex emotions—mostly frustration. But if Wan Ze dared to lay a hand on Xiao Ya, he wouldn’t hesitate to give his life. He’d had that resolve from the very beginning.

The other three gunmen sat near the door.

The living room was silent.

No one spoke. No one moved. Even their breathing seemed to be suppressed.

Light from the crystal chandelier cast down, creating pools of light with sharp, clear edges.

Xiao Ya sat on the sofa in silence for two or three minutes.

Her gaze swept around the living room before finally settling on Wan Ze.

‘He’s wearing a mask, so I can’t see his face… but his eyes are incredibly intense.’

Xiao Ya’s lips moved slightly, as if she were carefully choosing her words.

After a moment, she finally spoke. “We’ve been talking for a while, but I still don’t know your name.”

Wan Ze leaned back into the armchair, tilting his head slightly. His voice was devoid of emotion. “You don’t need to know my name.”

Xiao Ya faltered.

Her eyebrows twitched, but she quickly recovered her composed smile.

She didn’t give up, trying a different tack. “Then what should I call you? I have to call you something.”

Wan Ze thought for a moment. “Just call me Old Tan.”

“Old Tan?”

Xiao Ya repeated the name to herself, quickly searching her memory for anyone who went by it.

But after racking her brain, she couldn’t recall any disciple from Dragon Eagle with the surname Tan who was this formidable.