The Trap

Chapter 599 — Trap

THUD!

A staff slammed into his arm, and a welt quickly rose. But Li Huowang seemed to feel nothing.

His hands bound by the cuffs, he pressed his fists together and threw all his weight into a blow against the orderly’s chest. The man’s eyes rolled back as the air was knocked out of him.

Just then, another orderly wrapped his arms around Li Huowang from behind, reaching for his waist. Li Huowang grabbed the man’s ring finger and wrenched it backward with a sharp twist, bending it into an L-shape.

“AHHHHH!!!”

Even with his hands and feet restrained, Li Huowang held his own against six men, never losing the upper hand.

Exploiting a gap in their encirclement, he yanked the chain of his handcuffs taut and looped it around an orderly’s neck.

As the man screamed and cried out, Li Huowang tore a strip of skin from his throat with his teeth, exposing the large blood vessels beneath.

With blood in his mouth and a savage expression on his face, he glared at everyone in the room with the eyes of a predator.

The sight sent a shock of fear through the other orderlies. This un-medicated psychiatric patient—hands in cuffs—was still this fierce.

For a moment, none of them dared to move. They were just salaried workers; it wasn’t worth dying for.

“Tell Wu Cheng to come see me. Or I’ll kill this one!” Li Huowang pressed his teeth against the man’s pulsing carotid artery.

“D-don’t get excited! I’m going to find Dr. Wu right now! Don’t do anything rash!” One of the orderlies rushed out to get him.

He hadn’t wanted to go this far, but they’d forced his hand.

Since they refused to reason with him, he’d have to use force.

Li Huowang watched the scene unfold, calculating his next move. He knew this would have endless consequences, but he had no choice. If he didn’t act while he still had some freedom, and they managed to pin him down, he’d be completely out of options.

Soon, the sound of leather shoes echoed in the hallway. Wu Cheng walked through the door with a grim face, flanked by orderlies and doctors.

When he saw how terrifying Li Huowang looked, he muttered to his colleague beside him, “Just as I guessed. Bed Sixteen’s condition was only temporarily suppressed, not cured. The slightest trigger sets it off again.”

Li Huowang understood that even if he said Wu Cheng was trying to harm him, nobody would believe it. They’d just think he was having an episode. He needed someone to vouch for his sanity.

“Wu Cheng! Give me your phone! I need to call Yi Donglai!” Li Huowang barked out his demand.

“Alright, I’ll give you the phone. Calm down.” Wu Cheng pulled his phone from his pocket, swiped it open, and walked toward Li Huowang.

On high alert, Li Huowang braced for any trick.

It seemed, under these circumstances, Wu Cheng couldn’t do much. He calmly handed the phone to Li Huowang, then slowly backed away, still facing him.

Li Huowang relaxed slightly. He quickly opened the contacts list and found the number labeled “Senior Brother Yi.”

Just as his thumb touched the name, the phone screen flickered. A powerful electric current surged from the metal casing, jolting both Li Huowang and the orderly he was holding, shaking them violently.

It was a trap. Wu Cheng had never intended to let him clear his name through Yi Donglai.

His body convulsing, Li Huowang tried to drop the electrified phone, but it seemed glued to his hand.

In the next moment, the orderlies behind Wu Cheng swarmed him. Nets, forks, sedatives—they threw everything at him at once.

As the pale yellow liquid from three syringes was pushed into his veins, Li Huowang’s struggling gradually ceased. His five senses faded, and his expression went blank.

The last thing he saw was Wu Cheng leaning in close, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

—

Clang-clang-clang~ clang~ Lift~ the young master returns from school, his words must be wrong~ If not, why would mother and son quarrel and weep~ See how Sanniang sits in the loom room, weeping in distress~...

Lü Zhuangyuan, dressed in silk, sat in a chair, his eyes half-closed, his head swaying in time with the singsong melody drifting from the stage.

He looked like a man living the good life, but there was no enjoyment on his face.

Suddenly, he sat up straight and jabbed a finger at the performer on stage. “Wrong, wrong! That note was too high at the end there! What? That’s how it’s always been sung? I don’t care how it was sung before! From now on, you sing it my way! Who’s the boss here—you or me?”

The performers had been singing for two hours, and Lü Zhuangyuan had spent at least one of them finding fault.

Still, the troupe breathed a sigh of relief when they saw he was finally leaving. It was noon, and he had to go home for lunch.

Lü Zhuangyuan scooped up his little grandson and ambled out of the theater.

He no longer had to slink along the edges of the road like a rat crossing the street. Now he walked in the middle, chest out, grandson in his arms. He was no longer a low-class opera singer.

“Ah… this is the life of an immortal. Plum, you died too soon. If you’d lasted a couple more years, you could have enjoyed this life too.”

He arrived at the entrance of a large courtyard with three connected gates. The moment he stepped inside, he saw his eldest daughter-in-law, Luo Juan, sitting there. On the table beside her, pastries and fruits were stacked neatly. Two maids were attending to her—one massaging her legs, the other patting her back.

Lü Zhuangyuan’s face darkened, and he began scolding her. “Who told you to hire servants? Do you have any idea how much that costs!? And right before a meal—why did you put out so many pastries? Can you finish all that by yourself? You wasteful woman! The moment you get some money, you start throwing it away!”

“Father, what’s the point of money if you don’t spend it? Ever since I married into the Lü family and had to follow you all over the place, performing and sleeping out in the open, I haven’t had a single day of comfort. Now that we have money, can’t I enjoy myself a little and make up for it?”

Ever since she’d given birth to a son, Luo Juan had grown a bit bolder in facing Lü Zhuangyuan.

“Enjoy yourself? That’s not enjoying yourself! That’s throwing money away! Get rid of those two girls right now!”

As they argued, Lü Juren walked out. “Father, Juan, stop fighting. Let’s eat first.”

But at the table, Lü Zhuangyuan’s mouth didn’t stop. He complained about too many dishes, then about too much oil.

When Lü Zhuangyuan finally left, Luo Juan grumbled to her husband. “What’s gotten into Father? Day in and day out like this—does he even want to live in peace? It’s so annoying!”

Lü Juren, holding his bowl, shoveled a few bites of rice and glanced at his father’s receding back. “He’s been busy his whole life. Now that he suddenly has nothing to do but enjoy himself… he’s just not used to it yet.”