Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

What Yang Ce believed was this: Zheng Shaopeng had probably long since sensed that someone meant to do him harm. There were any number of sources for such information—or perhaps he knew full well whom he had offended of late, and had formed a premonition along those lines.

And so he had deliberately laid today's trap to lure this killer onto the hook. As for how Wang Yanqiu would be dealt with once caught, Yang Ce could not guess—perhaps killed outright, or perhaps used in a counterspy scheme, a game of double agents, sending the killer back to murder the one who had hired her.

To be continued.

842. Calculation

842. Calculation—but Yang Ce would absolutely not permit Zheng Shaopeng's men to do away with Wang Yanqiu. Setting aside the matter of Wang Yanqiu's connection to Zhao Ying, Wang Yanqiu was herself on friendly terms with Yan, and a neighbor besides; by any measure of feeling or reason, Yang Ce could not stand by and watch.

Most important of all, Yang Ce suspected Wang Yanqiu had ties to that killer organization, the Black Widow. If Yang Ce wanted to understand why the Black Widow had come after him in the first place, he would have to work through Wang Yanqiu. If Wang Yanqiu died, the clue he had just obtained would snap once more.

So no matter how one looked at it, Yang Ce would not let Wang Yanqiu walk into her death. Seeing that Wang Yanqiu was already about to climb onto the transformer box, Yang Ce dared not linger; he flew toward her, two strides for every one.

For Yang Ce had seen one of the two bodyguards inside the wall raise the iron club in his hand, waiting only for Wang Yanqiu to leap down before swinging it at her.

Yang Ce was aghast—a blow like that to the head, and Wang Yanqiu would be dead or crippled. Yang Ce could spare no further thought, nor care whether Wang Yanqiu noticed him; he ran straight over and gave her leg a fierce yank, pulling her clean off the transformer box.

Wang Yanqiu, suddenly feeling someone grab her, was badly startled; when she tumbled to the ground and turned her head, she saw it was Yang Ce, and could not help frowning. Was this not that "Liu Lei" fellow she had met today? How had he come here?

"What are you doing?" Wang Yanqiu asked in a low voice, watching Yang Ce warily.

"Saving you." Yang Ce found her expression somewhat amusing—the girl not only failed to appreciate his kindness, but seemed to regard him as someone who had spoiled her good deed.

"Saving me?" Wang Yanqiu naturally did not believe it. "Who exactly are you? Are you following me?"

"No time to explain." Yang Ce glanced inside the wall with his ability and said quickly, "You've been set up."

The two bodyguards inside the wall, seeing Wang Yanqiu fail to come in for so long, were growing anxious; now hearing voices outside, they feared some mishap, feared they could not carry out the task their boss had assigned—and in their alarm, they made to vault over the wall.

Wang Yanqiu still watched Yang Ce with deep suspicion; his words were far too baffling. But the next instant, Wang Yanqiu too sensed the danger.

Two men vaulted swiftly out from inside the wall, their agility so great that Wang Yanqiu's heart quailed. These two were indeed Zheng Shaopeng's bodyguards from before, no mistake—but by her own investigation, both had been hired by Zheng Shaopeng from an ordinary security company; their skills were surely above the average man's, but ought to fall far short of professionals. Yet now it seemed their skill was in no way inferior to her own—perhaps even above it.

Alarmed, Wang Yanqiu forgot Yang Ce entirely, drew the dagger from her person, and faced the two bodyguards with a grave expression.

The two bodyguards, once over the wall, paused not at all—one with iron club in hand, the other bare-fisted—and came straight for Wang Yanqiu.

They had seen Yang Ce too, but paid him no mind at this moment. Their boss had ordered them only to kill Wang Yanqiu; if they caught sight of Yang Ce, they were to kill him along the way. But the man before them was not Yang Ce at all, and so they ignored him, making Wang Yanqiu's death their first priority.

Wang Yanqiu, though disguised, fell far short of Yan; a careful look would give her away. Yang Ce, by contrast, had altered his appearance outright, becoming a wholly different person—if these two could see through that, the sun would rise in the west.

Wang Yanqiu's slender frame was in an instant surrounded by the two huge men.

After only two exchanges, Yang Ce could tell that both men practiced the hard, external school of martial arts—one wielded the iron club with consummate mastery, the other's fists whistled with force.

At a single glance, Yang Ce knew Wang Yanqiu could not possibly be a match for these two—and as for himself, whether he would suffer in a head-on clash with them was an open question.

Wang Yanqiu, though nimble and no weak hand at martial arts, relied mostly on cunning and finesse. A killer kills by speed, ruthlessness, and precision—striking the enemy a fatal blow when least expected.

But a close-quarters grapple like this—let alone two against one—even one against one, Wang Yanqiu was no match at all.

After only two exchanges, sweat broke out on Wang Yanqiu's brow. She was the one in the thick of it, and knew these two men's strength better even than Yang Ce. Never mind assassinating Zheng Shaopeng—whether she could escape these two with her skin intact was now the question.

"Come help me!" In her desperation, Wang Yanqiu shouted to Yang Ce. At this moment, friend or foe, by the mere fact that he had warned her a moment ago, he surely was not with the two men before her.

Yang Ce of course could not stand by and watch her die—otherwise he would not have warned her. But at this moment Yang Ce was waiting for his chance; he was no fool, and would not pit his weaknesses against the enemy's strengths.

So Yang Ce meant to find the perfect moment and strike from hiding—but Wang Yanqiu's shout wrecked his whole plan. Yang Ce could not help but feel vexed, yet there was nothing to be done: even if he did not act now, these two men would take him for Wang Yanqiu's accomplice and be on their guard against him.

With that thought, Yang Yongjin hesitated no longer. He accelerated into a run, launched himself into the air, and drove a flying kick straight at the big man holding the iron bar.

This was Yang Ce's first move, and the big man with the iron bar did not dare take it lightly. He raised the bar to block.

Yang Ce's face was blank, but inwardly he smiled. It seemed his gamble had paid off—this was exactly the effect he wanted. On his first strike, the man had no way of gauging his depth, and anyone with half a brain would treat him with caution rather than meet him head-on.

Yang Ce had seized on precisely that, which was why he had dared such a bold move. And the big man with the iron bar did just as Yang Ce predicted, using the bar only to block Yang Juehuan's attack, not daring to force a clash.

Yang Puqi's foot struck the iron bar, and the big man felt the force behind it. His heart instantly eased—so that was all there was to him. He had taken him for a tough opponent, but compared to himself, the man was far beneath him.

The big man relaxed, ready to give him a sound thrashing the moment Yang Ce landed. What he never expected was that Yang Juehuan's other leg abruptly changed direction in midair and lashed out at the base of his neck.

The big man realized something was wrong, but it was too late to resist. It was his own fault for letting down his guard just now; nothing he did now would help. He only could not understand how Yang Ce, having already kicked out once in the air, could deliver another kick without landing.

This wasn't a movie—the big man had never seen such a chain of flying kicks before.