Chapter 37 — Who Kills Whom?
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
"Why kidnap?" Wei Zhao narrowed his eyes. He was eager to know what this man wanted with Gu Mengyao. If it were simply money, this bank robbery had already netted no less than a million—did they mean to extort Gu Pengzhan with her as well? That was a dangerous game; more likely than not, the extortion would fail and the police would catch them instead.
"Why? Good question." The bald man curled his lip and pointed at the sacks of cash on the floor. "Simple. Money."
"Money?" Wei Zhao frowned. "A kidnapping? Using her to threaten Gu Mengyao's father, and then making him pay a ransom?"
"That's none of your business." The bald man, annoyed that Wei Zhao was asking far too many questions, said sourly.
"No harm in telling me. At least I should die knowing why, shouldn't I?" Wei Zhao's expression now seemed terribly curious, so innocent it was hard to refuse.
The bald man looked at Wei Zhao and thought, no harm in telling the brat; I'll have to kill him sooner or later anyway. So he said, "Someone paid us to kidnap the girl."
"Kidnap her and then what?" Wei Zhao asked.
"They haven't said yet. We're waiting for a call," the bald man said.
"And who told you to kidnap her?" Wei Zhao pressed.
"Don't know. Brother Cihua set it up," the bald man said.
"Who's Brother Cihua?" Wei Zhao asked again.
"Damn you, kid, why so many questions? Motherfucker—ask one more and I'll kill you." The bald man, worn out by Wei Zhao's interrogation, cursed him out.
"Oh, all right then. Don't move, or I'll kill you." A gun suddenly appeared in Wei Zhao's hand, pressed in an instant against the bald man's temple.
"You... you..." The bald man's eyes bulged. Would someone please tell him what the hell was going on? Weren't the kid's hands tied? How did he still have a gun?
Inside the van, the other kidnappers were frozen in shock, unable to make sense of it—Wei Zhao had a gun to their leader's head.
"You... you... how did you get the rope off?" The bald man couldn't figure it out. And truly, he couldn't: weren't Wei Zhao's hands both bound together?
"Oh, I was a clumsy kid. When I played cat's cradle, I'd always end up tying my own hands into a dead knot, and after a while I learned to undo it myself," Wei Zhao said.
"Unbelievable." The bald man's jaw dropped. That worked too? Cat's cradle could make you that good? Still, he was astonished: "Then how do you have a gun?"
"Lifted it off that Ma Liu." Wei Zhao jerked his chin at Ma Liu, who was nearest to him.
Ma Liu instinctively patted his trouser pocket and gave a start. His gun was indeed gone. It seemed it really had ended up in Wei Zhao's hands.
This time the bald man was completely speechless. He was convinced. What kind of game was this? The kid was too damn good. In his heart, though, he cursed Ma Liu's ancestors for eighteen generations.
"All right, nobody move. Your leader's head may look nice and smooth and shiny, but one bullet and it'll basically explode." Wei Zhao spoke lightly, but the bald man couldn't help shivering.
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