Chapter 912 — Accident or Premeditation?

"Heh..." Wei Zhao drew the diamond ring from the small box and looked at Tang Zhi. "Are you truly willing to come find me?"

"I... I am willing!" Tang Zhi nodded shyly. In that moment she was like a bride about to walk into the hall of marriage.

Wei Zhao slipped the ring onto Tang Zhi's finger, and a wave of relief washed over his heart as well.

His strength might be gone, but he was bringing home a wife — he wondered what kind of reaction the old man would have.

The meal had been tinged with a faint sorrow, yet the mood was warm all the same.

Wei Zhao was leaving, but Tang Zhi was not downcast — for before long, she would be following him.

When the meal was done, Tang Zhi took the ring back and returned it to its box before leaving the private room.

"Why take it off? Changed your mind?" Wei Zhao teased.

"Only a fool would change her mind! I'm afraid someone might snatch it off me if I wear it. You've no strength left now, so I'll keep things as low-key as I can and spare you any needless trouble." Tang Zhi shot Wei Zhao a look and carefully tucked the ring away close to her body.

"Heh..." Wei Zhao said to himself that here was a girl who truly understood — a girl like this, brought home as a wife, ought to do quite well, oughtn't she?

Wei Zhao settled the bill, and he and Tang Zhi left the private room together. What he did not know was that in the parking lot of the Starlight Brilliance Hotel, Li Cihua's men had already made their arrangements...

"Manager Yang, many thanks for your help!" Li Cihua nodded to the manager of the Starlight Brilliance.

"Heh heh, when Young Master Bing arranges a matter, how could I not do my utmost?" Manager Yang said with a smile. "Besides, it's no great affair — a trifle, no more than lifting a finger!"

Li Cihua nodded. "Very well, Manager Yang, go about your business. There's nothing more for you here — your presence would not look good."

"Fine, I'll be off then. I only hope Brother Cihua won't kick up too great a commotion and hurt the shop's business!" Manager Yang added a word of caution.

"Don't worry, I know my limits," Li Cihua nodded.

After Manager Yang had gone, Li Cihua climbed into a Buick commercial van parked on the right side of the lot. Its windows were sealed all around with opaque black film, so that no one outside could see in.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the lot, a white Nissan van was also made ready — an old, battered model of Nissan, though a close look would reveal it to be a patchwork vehicle assembled from mismatched parts, the very sort favored by street thugs.

Such cars cost little and carried plenty of men; for brawls and slashings there was nothing better. When the job was done, the car could simply be abandoned — left where it stood and run from, for the whole thing cost no more than a few thousand yuan.

Wei Zhao and Tang Zhi reached the parking lot, and Wei Zhao got into the car with her. He was just about to start the engine when the jade pendant sent out a faint warning signal.

Danger — but not great danger. Such was the conclusion Wei Zhao drew from the pendant's signal.

He was about to look further into the situation when a white Nissan van pulled up behind his car without the slightest warning, sealing off his reversing path entirely. Wei Zhao's car was parked in a space, with cars ahead of it and to either side; the only way out was to back up.

Wei Zhao frowned. Why would anyone park in that spot? Was it deliberate?

He honked twice to signal that he meant to leave, but the Nissan van behind paid no heed, as though it had never heard the horn at all.

With no other choice, Wei Zhao got out and walked over to the driver's side of the white Nissan van. He glanced inside: a bald man in sunglasses sat there smoking at his leisure, utterly unbothered by Wei Zhao — he did not even turn his eyes toward him as he approached.

The jade pendant's warning had already put Wei Zhao instinctively on guard. Why was everything so convenient? Something about it struck him as off. By all rights, the people who dined here were all persons of standing; even if these thugs were overbearing, surely they would not stir up trouble without cause?

Could these men be plotting something?

But Wei Zhao had no strength left, and he did not wish to expose his weakness. He could only swallow his anger and knock on the window of the white Nissan van.

"What the hell do you want?" The bald man rolled down the window and blew a lungful of smoke into Wei Zhao's face, asking in open annoyance.

"I need to get out. Would you mind moving your van?" Wei Zhao felt like a tiger fallen to the flatlands, bullied by dogs. In truth, even stripped of his strength, he still had any number of ways to dispose of ordinary men like these.

An assassin—in most cases killing does not depend on raw strength, but on technique. Yet in broad daylight, before a crowd, Wei Zhao could hardly slaughter a few thugs over a trifle like this; that too would leave him hard-pressed to escape.

"Get out? Get out where? I'm waiting for someone here!" The bald man was deaf to Wei Zhao's courtesy and refused him outright.

"You're waiting for someone, but I need to leave!" Wei Zhao had not expected that his wish to avoid trouble would only bring trouble knocking at his door.

"I'm waiting too—can't you wait a while as well?" The bald man waved his hand impatiently. "What's with all the dawdling? Get lost, now!"

"..." Wei Zhao frowned, a flash of ruthlessness crossing his eyes. "Isn't this a bit much? I don't want trouble, but don't push me."

Wei Zhao was not by nature a timid man who shrank from trouble. If he gave way now and someone with ill intent witnessed it, what would they think? The first thing they would suspect was that Wei Zhao had lost his strength—otherwise, why would he retreat?

So Wei Zhao could not yield. He could only press forward, and however weak he might be, he had to keep up the act. In that moment Wei Zhao suddenly realized what agony it was for a man without strength to play the bully.

"What did you say? Well, my boys and I aren't leaving now!" Hearing Wei Zhao's words, the bald man turned vicious too. He yanked out the keys, climbed down from the van, and with him four or five more thuggish-looking men piled out.

"I'll say it once more—I don't want trouble today. Don't push me." Wei Zhao spoke calmly.

"And what if I do push you? What are you going to do about it?" The bald man seemed utterly unconcerned by Wei Zhao's threat. He locked the van and turned to lead his men away.

Wei Zhao moved, striking with the speed of lightning, his hand chopping toward the back of the bald man's neck. With fighting technique alone, Wei Zhao could bring them all down.

But the next instant, Wei Zhao discovered to his surprise that the bald man's reflexes were uncommonly sharp. The moment his hand reached for the man, the bald man moved too, twisting aside to evade Wei Zhao's strike. Then he turned back and regarded Wei Zhao coldly. "You dare raise a hand to me? Tired of living, are you?"