Chapter 452: 452: Jiang Zhi vs Young Master Zhi (First Update)
She didn’t want to talk to Jiang Xiaoliu.
After Jiang Xiaoliu finished his rowdy acts, he went back to the bathroom for skincare, layering from serums to moisturizers, and checking himself out in the mirror from all angles.
No, he needed Zhou Xufang to buy him an eye cream.
Finally, after applying body lotion, Jiang Zhi cranked up the faucet and made a call, “Check where Su Qinghou is living.”
The sound of running water continued for a long ti before Jiang Zhi ca out.
“Xufang.”
“Yes.”
Jiang Zhi grabbed the car keys, “I’m going out for a bit, you go to sleep first, don’t wait up.”
Zhou Xufang asked, “Where are you going?”
Jiang Zhi lied casually, “To Bao Yi’s place to get face cream.”
Zhou Xufang saw through him, “Going to find Su Qinghou, are you?”
This girl’s emotional intelligence was feeding into her intellectual quotient.
Jiang Zhi had no choice but to admit honestly, “Yes.”
Seeing Su Qinghou, it was clear he ant trouble, and obviously, he wasn’t going to sit around waiting to be put down.
Zhou Xufang, worried, said, “I’ll go with you.”
“No,” Jiang Zhi grabbed her hand and placed it on her abdon, “Just take care of Lu Erdan.”
Oh, to add, Jiang Erdan and his father changed their surnas to Lu, so it’s Lu Erdan now.
After hesitating for a long ti, Zhou Xufang still listened to Jiang Zhi, “Then be careful and call if anything happens.”
“Okay.” Jiang Zhi leaned in, “Kiss .”
“No kisses, you’ve got skincare products on your face,” Zhou Xufang retorted.
Jiang Zhi: “…”
He was doing all this for whom exactly!
Kunpeng Hotel.
Above the suite’s dining table hung a glass lamp, casting a light downward that turned the faces ghostly white; the beef on the plate was cut into pieces, and the sound of knives scraping was grating.
Su Qinghou ate a piece, grabbed a napkin, and spat it out, “The at’s too tough.”
Su Chan stood by, “I’ll have the kitchen redo it right away.”
He put down his cutlery and poured so red wine, “Change the bed first.”
“If you want a surgical table instead, it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
Su Chan knew his habits well; he rarely slept in beds. The reason why he chose surgical tables probably had sothing to do with Su Dingzhi.
He said nothing, his face stormy as anything.
Just now, when she went to pick him up from a street not far from Zhou Xufang’s residence in Yuquan Bay, Su Lihua was there with a driver cursing at her.
The uncle and niece both looked very upset.
“Why were you alone on the street?” Su Chan asked carefully, “What about King, wasn’t he accompanying you?”
Su Qinghou put down his wine glass and turned to look at her, “What, do I need to report my whereabouts to you now?”
She blurted out in haste, unable to restrain herself, “Were you at Zhou—”
Before the na Zhou Xufang could fully leave her mouth, he grabbed a knife from the plate and threw it at her. He used excessive force; the blade just grazed her cheek and embedded into the painting behind her.
His stormy blue eyes narrowed slightly, resembling the sea after a storm, calm on the surface but still churning underneath.
“Change the bed,” he ordered, “Now.”
Su Chan lowered her head, noticing a strand of fallen hair on the floor, her palms sweating, “Yes.”
He was furious, because of Zhou Xufang.
Ten minutes later.
A waiter pushed the cart over, “Room service.”
The man guarding the door knocked and asked in English for permission; upon affirming, he opened the door, letting the waiter into the room.
Half an hour later.
The cart ca again.
The doorman in English said, “Didn’t call for service.”
This ti, the “waiter” who ca was tall and burly, seemingly around one-ninety in height. The waiter’s uniform barely fit, stretched tight across his body, and he said, “It’s complintary.”
The guard was suspicious, “You—”
The “waiter” imdiately grabbed the towel under the plate cover, pressed it against the man’s shoulder, and covered his mouth and nose.
The man struggled briefly before passing out.
The “waiter” dragged him aside, pulled out his cellphone and spoke, “Boss, it’s done.”
He had just finished speaking—
Click, click, click.
Three sounds echoed as doors from the left, right, and opposite opened, revealing a total of six n—four Blacks, two Whites, each one tall and robust.
Waiter Ah Wan: “…”
He was so naive to think Su Qinghou had only one bodyguard.
He raised his hands, showing a naive smile, “Misunderstanding, just a misunderstanding,” as the six bodyguards advanced toward him. In a rush, he even stamred broken English, “mi, mi, mistake.”
Perhaps due to his clumsy language skills, the n didn’t seem to understand and continued their relentless advance.
Ah Wan was utterly panicked, stepping back, desperately looking around until he spotted his savior arriving, “Boss!”
The saviors were only two, both unard.
Jiang Zhi wore a black hoodie and pulled the hood down. “The outside is yours.” He took out a cellphone from his pocket and handed it to Qiao Nanchu, “If you can’t beat them, press 9.”
Qiao Nanchu rolled up his sleeves, glanced at the bodyguards, “If I get fired from the police, I’ll run JC dical, you step down and make coffee.”
Jiang Zhi took off his watch, “Deal.”
Qiao Nanchu ward up his wrists, heading left.
Jiang Zhi to the right, just as he touched the handle, a kick ca from the left. Jiang Zhi dodged sideways, grabbed the man’s ankle, yanked it backward while driving his knee upward.
The man sprawled on the floor, wailing.
Jiang Zhi kicked him aside and opened the door.
“Click.”
He closed the door behind him.
At the sa ti, a gun pressed against his head in the dark room, Su Qinghou’s voice ca slightly breathless, “Mr. Jiang.”
Jiang Zhi corrected, “Mr. Lu.”
He flipped the light switch and then turned around, grabbed Su Qinghou’s wrist, twisted it, and took the gun, “Feeling weak all over?”
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