Chapter Ninety-Seven: Strike First?

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Since Su Xue and Chu Jun would be finishing their hosting duties late that evening, Bai Bing drove straight home alone — grinning from ear to ear as though she had gotten away with something delightful.

Though Wang Zheng and Bai Bing quarreled constantly, he had to admit that beyond her striking looks, she did possess certain virtues. Chief among them was her habit of heading to the kitchen each day without being asked, producing one or two new dishes every evening, so that Wang Zheng never had to worry about meals. That, in truth, was the reason he tolerated having her under his roof.

Bai Bing, for her part, seemed to understand that if she wanted to keep living there, she had better make herself useful — otherwise she might well be shown the door, and some other woman might one day take over her room. So to defend the small patch of territory that was temporarily hers, she needed to give Wang Zheng a reason to keep her around.

As things stood now, cooking every day had apparently become second nature to her.

"Hey — stop gawking and come here, I need to ask you something!" Bai Bing called out from the kitchen, raising her voice at Wang Zheng, who was standing on the balcony sweeping a pair of binoculars across the neighborhood.

The binoculars had been hidden quite cleverly by Bai Bing, but was there anywhere clever enough to escape Wang Zheng's search? Never mind binoculars — if Bai Bing hid a single strand of hair and Wang Zheng set his mind to finding it, he would. That was not boasting. That was ability.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," Wang Zheng called back. This was prime time — the hour when the beauties across the way came home and changed after work. How could he possibly miss it?

"Pervert," Bai Bing muttered under her breath, then raised her voice again: "Lin Xiaolei seemed very different today. Did you notice?"

"If even you noticed, what do you think?" Wang Zheng replied. At a critical moment like this, he truly had no patience for discussing feelings — least of all feelings about Bai Bing.

"I think what happened last night must have changed her. And everything she did today — it all seemed like she was trying to tell you something. Didn't you say you had everything under control? Then tell me: what do you think Lin Xiaolei will do next?" Bai Bing pressed.

"Heaven's secrets must not be revealed," Wang Zheng said, and with that single line, he shut Bai Bing down completely.

Bai Bing gripped her spatula until her knuckles whitened. She dearly wanted to flatten his smug skull with it. That insufferable expression was bad enough — but to speak to her in that insufferable tone on top of it? How was she supposed to stand it?

"If you won't tell me, I'll dump every dish I've cooked straight into the drain!" she threatened.

"And if you dare dump those dishes down the drain, I'll drive the car straight into the river!" Wang Zheng shot back. Using your own possessions to threaten someone else — whether that actually counted as a threat was debatable.

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"You — talking to you is exhausting. Forget it!" Bai Bing snapped, banging the spatula against the rim of the wok to vent her frustration. Wang Zheng heard it and smiled to himself. He knew perfectly well what was going on in Bai Bing's head. She was sharp — genuinely clever — and she had already worked out what Lin Xiaolei was likely to do next. She was asking him a question she already knew the answer to.

The situation was clear enough. Lin Xiaolei now had two paths before her. The first was to return to her original course — to follow Wang Zheng's advice, use the off-season to restructure the company, rest and recuperate, and build strength for the future. The second was to press forward with expansion, but to shift direction — moving away from the treacherously deep waters of real estate toward other ventures with a smaller investment scale. That way the company could still grow, yet if things went wrong, she could withdraw intact without suffering damage to her foundations.

When the food was ready, Bai Bing set everything on the dining table with poorly concealed reluctance, then sat down across from Wang Zheng with equal reluctance, eating in sullen silence. Her face was pulled so long it rivaled a horse's — she was clearly still brooding over what had happened earlier.

"Rather than worrying yourself over Lin Xiaolei's affairs, you might spare a thought for your own situation," Wang Zheng said, watching her sour expression.

"My own situation? As long as you stop provoking me, I'll count my blessings," Bai Bing replied tartly.

"Don't think too highly of yourself, and don't underestimate everyone else," Wang Zheng said. "My purpose in this world is to prove that there are people more formidable than you."

"What exactly are you getting at? Mocking me to inflate your own worth? If that's what this is, save your breath — I'll concede: you're worth thirty cents more per pound than I am." In Bai Bing's view, everything Wang Zheng said was just another way of having fun at her expense. It had happened too many times for her to get properly worked up anymore. Instead of exploding, she simply fired back with sharp words of her own.

Even if she couldn't win the exchange, she refused to surrender.

"You really are cheaper than me," Wang Zheng said with a laugh. "But that's not what I mean. Liu Jin is, after all, a man of wealth and influence — a well-known capitalist. You put him in the hospital. You think he'll just let it go?"

"What's he going to do about it?" Bai Bing said dismissively. "A lowlife like him — one crook of my finger and he'd be finished."

"Yes, yes — Miss Bai Bing, how formidable you are. An elite operative — why would someone of your standing bother with a trivial figure like Liu Jin? But don't forget: your other identity can't be traced. As far as Liu Jin is concerned, you're just an ordinary person. He could throw a hundred thousand, two hundred thousand at people to make your life miserable without a second thought. You might step outside tomorrow morning and have someone throw acid in your face."

Bai Bing's chopsticks stilled. She set them down, propped her chin in both hands, and turned Wang Zheng's words over in her mind. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Her other identity was untraceable. Right now she was nothing more than the secretary to the general manager's assistant at Zhongtian Company — no notable background, no connections, no leverage. Who was to say what Liu Jin might do?

Would Liu Jin simply swallow the humiliation of being beaten and hospitalized? Never.

Revenge — revenge against Lin Xiaolei, revenge against Bai Bing — that was almost certainly the only thing occupying Liu Jin's thoughts as he lay in that hospital bed. Bai Bing's hand moved instinctively to her face. If someone really did throw acid at her...

She had been careless. Inexcusably careless. She had never even considered this angle. A spear thrust in the open is easy to dodge; an arrow shot from the shadows is not. She was exposed; her enemy was hidden. How would she ever know which passerby was Liu Jin's man?

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Careless, careless — how had she failed to think of this? The more Bai Bing turned it over, the more uneasy she felt, and her appetite vanished entirely. She sat motionless at the table, turning over possible solutions in her mind.

Her brow furrowed lightly. It was not a catastrophic problem, but it was certainly a troublesome one — and Wang Zheng's words had been enough to put her genuinely on edge. After a long moment of thought, Bai Bing looked across at Wang Zheng with sudden, grave seriousness and said: "What if — I go to the hospital right now and take care of him?"

Wang Zheng looked up from his bowl and stared at her. Her words had left him momentarily speechless. Judging by the absolute sincerity on her face, he could not tell whether she was joking or perfectly serious. Was this woman truly that ruthless? "Take care of him" — spoken with the casual ease of someone who had done it before. He looked at her with a wry smile and said: "You are a professional woman now, not a professional assassin. And please — stop talking to me in that tone. It gives me the chills."

"Oh, does it?" Bai Bing caught herself, realizing her phrasing had been somewhat inappropriate. She smoothed her expression back to something more ordinary and looked at him. "Then what do you think I should do?"

Wang Zheng smiled — the calm, assured smile of someone who already knows the answer — then leaned forward slightly and beckoned to her across the table with a slow, mysterious curl of his finger.

"There are only two of us in this apartment. If you have something to say, say it. It's the height of summer — do you really want to lean in close? It's sweltering," Bai Bing said flatly.

"Tsk — and just like that, the atmosphere is ruined. You have no sense of occasion whatsoever," Wang Zheng said, giving her a look, then continued: "The enemy holds still, so you hold still. The enemy makes a move, so you make your move — wildly."

"Wildly? What does that mean?" Bai Bing frowned. "Shouldn't it be: the enemy holds still, I hold still — the enemy moves, I strike first? In other words, the classic principle of preemptive action? How is that any different from what I said earlier about going to the hospital and taking care of Liu Jin?"

"At the very least, my version is more refined," Wang Zheng said. "And besides — doing away with someone is murder. It's illegal. That's not something we should be doing."

"You know what?" Bai Bing cut him off. "Coming from your mouth, that line has absolutely zero credibility."

Wang Zheng's brow furrowed deeply, his expression darkening with displeasure. Bai Bing, seeing his reaction, felt not the slightest remorse — in fact, she looked rather pleased with herself. But within a minute, she reined in the smile, apparently remembering that Wang Zheng was, in fact, trying to help her strategize. She quickly rearranged her face into an expression of humble deference and said: "Please, senior — enlighten me."

Wang Zheng's displeasure dissolved at once, replaced by a look of satisfaction. She could be taught after all. He leaned forward again, adopting that same air of theatrical mystery, and said in a low voice:

"The best possible solution to this problem is — you marry him."