Chapter 350: We Are the Embodiment of Justice

Although Yang Xun wasn’t sure exactly which room Jiang Yi’an was in, as one of Zhonghai’s top-tier wealthy heirs, the place he stayed had to be the best the hotel had to offer.

The two took their key cards and went upstairs, with Yang Xun and Yue Feifei entering their own room first. A moment later, Yang Xun called the front desk, demanding arrogantly, “This room smells. Change it for me. Which suites are still empty?”

The hotel didn’t have many suites to begin with. Yang Xun asked this specifically to pinpoint Jiang Yi’an’s exact location. Not daring to offend Yang Xun, the receptionist answered honestly and sent a staff member upstairs to switch their room.

With this, Yang Xun confirmed Jiang Yi’an’s room number. He and Yue Feifei first disabled the hallway security cameras, then walked to the suite’s door and pressed their ears against the wood to listen for a few seconds. After ensuring there were no unusual sounds inside, Yang Xun took out the master key card he had pickpocketed from the staff member and swiped it over the lock.

BEEP. The door clicked open.

Heavy blackout curtains were drawn, leaving the room dimly lit. Jiang Yi’an was lying flat on his back in the massive bed, the blanket pulled only up to his chest. Beside him lay a young woman with the sheets slipping off her, exposing her bare shoulders and smooth back. Both were deeply asleep, completely oblivious to the intrusion.

Yang Xun gave Yue Feifei a meaningful look, and the two moved forward in unison.

Yang Xun clamped a hand over Jiang Yi’an’s mouth with precise force, jolting him awake from his half-asleep state. Before Jiang Yi’an could even make a sound, a swift chop to the back of his neck knocked him out cold. His body went entirely limp.

Hearing the muffled commotion, the woman beside him fluttered her eyelashes, appearing as if she were about to wake up. To prevent her from ruining their plans, Yue Feifei quickly clamped a chloroform-soaked cloth over her nose and mouth. The woman instantly slumped back into a deep, drug-induced slumber.

Yue Feifei then swiftly pulled out a length of rope they had prepared in advance, expertly tying Jiang Yi’an’s hands behind his back before slipping a black hood over his head. The two worked with seamless coordination. In less than two minutes, they silently slipped out of the room.

The hotel hallway remained dead quiet; no one had been disturbed. They carried Jiang Yi’an down the fire escape, bypassing the lobby entirely to slip out through the hotel’s back door.

Yang Xun had parked his car on an inconspicuous side street ahead of time. They shoved Jiang Yi’an into the backseat, covered him with a blanket, and smoothly drove away from the hotel area, merging into the sparse traffic. They didn’t take Jiang Yi’an home, but drove him straight to the unfinished building project. The most dangerous place was often the safest. Jiang Sihai would probably never dream that his son was being held hostage right on his own turf.

The abandoned building was entirely deserted, its concrete floors covered in a thick layer of dust. Jiang Yi’an was tied to a load-bearing pillar, his hands bound behind his back. The hood was still over his head, and a cloth gag stuffed in his mouth allowed him to make nothing more than muffled whimpers.

Only after donning their masks did Yang Xun and Yue Feifei walk over. Yang Xun reached out and yanked the hood off Jiang Yi’an’s head, revealing a face slightly contorted with fear.

“You’re awake?” Yang Xun’s tone was as casual as if he were saying good morning.

Jiang Yi’an squinted against the light. When his vision focused on the two figures wearing clown masks, his eyes widened in sheer terror, and he began to struggle frantically.

“Don’t move. Just sit tight and let me finish,” Yang Xun said unhurriedly. “I have some business with your father. I need his help finding two people—the two girls you people abducted from the clubhouse.

“If your dad cooperates, you’ll suffer less. It all depends on how much he values his son.”

He patted Jiang Yi’an on the shoulder, causing the bound man to violently flinch. Jiang Yi’an’s eyes were filled with a mix of horror and rage, but with the cloth gagging his mouth, he couldn’t form a single word. Yang Xun ignored him, standing up and walking toward the door.

Yue Feifei stood a short distance away, holding a brand-new burner phone. “Is the letter ready?” she asked.

Yang Xun nodded.

“I’ll have someone print it out and send it to Jiang Sihai’s company via anonymous courier. It won’t trace back to us.”

Yang Xun glanced at the concisely worded letter on the screen, his gaze pausing on the signature line at the very bottom.

Female and Male Fiends.

“What kind of trash name is this?” he asked.

“What’s wrong with it? I think it sounds great. Haven’t you seen that TV show? We’re a man and a woman—this name is perfect for us!” Yue Feifei said with utmost sincerity.

Yang Xun chuckled helplessly. “Fine, whatever you say goes.”

The letter was short, but every word was crystal clear.

“To Mr. Jiang,

“Your son, Jiang Yi’an, is currently under our care. We don’t want money. As long as you deliver the two girls who were transferred from the clubhouse last night to the entrance of the Zhonghai City Bureau completely unharmed, your son will be returned to you safe and sound.

“However, if those two girls are missing so much as a single hair, we will inflict double the damage onto Jiang Yi’an. Our patience is limited. We advise you to return them before sunset, or we might just take action early.

“There is no need to investigate our identities. We are the meddlers from the clubhouse last night.

“We are the embodiment of justice. We couldn’t stand seeing you commit such atrocities, which is why we injured those powerful men. Furthermore, we took some photos. If you want to play games, we will gladly play along. — Female and Male Fiends.”

The letter was quickly printed and couriered to the front desk of Jiang Sihai’s company. Since it was addressed directly to Jiang Sihai, the receptionist didn’t dare delay and immediately called his secretary.

At this moment, Jiang Sihai was sitting in his spacious leather office chair, holding a freshly brewed cup of Longjing tea, his brows tightly furrowed. His secretary knocked and entered, holding a kraft paper envelope, which he placed on the desk.

“President Jiang, the front desk just received an anonymous package for you. There’s no sender.”

Jiang Sihai set down his teacup, gave the envelope a passing glance, and casually tore it open. Inside was a single, folded sheet of A4 paper. The text was printed, neat and clean. His eyes quickly swept over the few lines of text. The moment the contents registered in his brain, he sprang up from his chair.

“Where is Jiang Yi’an?!”

Startled by this sudden outburst, the secretary hurriedly replied, “Young Master Jiang didn’t come into the office today, nor has he called. I… I’ll contact him right now.”

The secretary frantically dialed Jiang Yi’an’s number, but it rang for a long time without anyone answering.

Jiang Sihai stood rooted to the spot, his knuckles turning white as he crumpled the letter into a tight ball. In a fit of fury, he violently smashed his teacup on the desk. He took out his own phone and made a few more calls. Only then did it dawn on him that this letter was no prank—his son had truly been kidnapped.

“President Jiang, please don’t panic. Let me check with Young Master Jiang’s friends,” the secretary said, anxiously dialing the numbers of a few of Jiang Yi’an’s cronies.

The call was answered quickly. The man on the other end chuckled and said, “Young Master Jiang had a bit too much to drink last night, so he stayed at a hotel to rest. He had a girl keeping him company, so he’s probably still asleep right now.”