634: Chapter 623 634: Chapter 623 Ghost King furrowed his brows as he drove past Brother Xiezi’s vehicle, wondering how the Kirin had disappeared without a trace, not knowing that some people are in sight yet far away.
Sometimes historical changes are due to something insignificant and a similarly insignificant person.
While we constantly complain that life lacks highlights, little do we know, we might be changing the world.
Brother Xiezi was indeed a minor character, no matter how you put it.
He was just a small leader with about a dozen people under him.
He could scare others usually, but when it came to fighting, he never needed to lift a finger.
Brother Xiezi hummed a tune as he drove into the garage, an old bungalow he had modified.
He had added an extra floor, making it look like a small, independent villa.
After parking the vehicle, Brother Xiezi took out the remote control, pressed it twice, made a flashy turn, and was about to head upstairs when he suddenly heard a heavy moaning sound.
“Damn, who’s having a tryst near my place?” Curiously, Brother Xiezi stepped out of the garage, looked around, but suddenly the sound intensified, with a thud, as if something had struck metal.
Brother Xiezi finally located the source of the noise—it was coming from his own pickup truck!
Could it be some wild animal on my vehicle?
Brother Xiezi walked over, turned on the garage light, and carefully approached the rear of the truck.
When Brother Xiezi saw the person in the truck bed, he jumped in shock—it was a person!
The person’s face bore traces of blood, and there was a pool of blood in the truck bed.
The whole person convulsed unconsciously in the truck bed, as if severely injured.
“Damn it, all I did was have a wild time in the mountains, did you have to send someone to me?
Damn it.” Brother Xiezi lamented, climbed into the truck bed, and checked if the person was still breathing.
“He’s still breathing.
Damn, what bad luck.” Brother Xiezi didn’t bother moving the person but instead climbed into the vehicle, started it up, and drove straight to the Shura Alliance’s private hospital.
“Brother Xiezi, what are you doing here so late?” At the hospital entrance, Brother Xiezi encountered some of the Shura Alliance members; one of them even greeted him.
“Nothing much, a friend of mine got beaten up.” Brother Xiezi made up an excuse.
He couldn’t very well say someone had fallen from the sky onto his car, right?
“Where is he?
Damn, his chest has such a big gash!
Your friend is really unlucky.
Quick, get him inside.” The men who greeted Brother Xiezi also hurried forward to help.
This was the benefit of the culture Zhao Yan had created at the head office; everyone was united in their efforts, plus they were all brothers who had risen through the ranks together, so they all pitched in when something happened.
The group clumsily carried the injured person into the emergency room, leaving the rest to the doctors.
Brother Xiezi sat outside the emergency room, ruefully flipping through his wallet.
This unexpected incident had already cost him a few thousand yuan, proving that being a good Samaritan wasn’t for just anyone.
While Brother Xiezi was stewing in his worries, things were nearly turning chaotic at Xin Dong’s place!
“What!
You’re saying Kirin was ambushed, and his life and death are uncertain?” Xin Dong looked at his subordinate in shock and anger.
“Yes, we found Kirin’s car on the roadside five kilometers away!” A man in a suit reported with his head bowed.
“Damn it, hurry up and send people to search!
What about his men?
That clown?” Xin Dong asked urgently.
“The clown had his arms and legs broken and was thrown into the woods.”
“This is a big problem.” Xin Dong took a pack of cigarettes from his desk, shakily pulled out one, “Quick, go find him now!”
“Yes!”
Meanwhile, in a Ming and Qing era building in Beijing, a man sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, beside him, an incense burner intermittently wafted up Qing Yan, making the room appear very ancient.
The man had a light blue sword on his back, sitting there as if he were a statue.
Knock, knock, knock.
The wooden door was rapped on.
“Come in.”
The man said blandly, his voice neither warm nor rhythmic.
A man walked in from outside and whispered something.
“I know, you can go now.”
The man’s tone didn’t change at all, his expression obscured by the Qing Yan, flickering in and out of view.
Soon after, the man sighed, slowly stood up, his body trembling slightly, as if his feet had gone numb from sitting too long.
“Going out?” As the man walked out of the wooden door, another man leaning against it asked in a low voice.
“Going.” The man said just one word, no longer paying attention to the person beside him, and slowly walked downstairs.
“Kunpeng, try to kill fewer people,” the voice of the man behind him wafted ethereally.
“Okay.”
Kunpeng has appeared, and the wind and clouds are about to rise.
Meanwhile, Song Yun was utterly unaware of what had happened after he left yesterday.
Early the next morning, he followed the address given by Shen Yan and arrived at the Sunan Province TV Station building, which was located in the most bustling part of the city center.
After finding a parking spot, Song Yun went straight upstairs.
On the 11th floor, as soon as Song Yun stepped out of the elevator, he ran into Shen Yan.
“Shen Yan, feeling better?” Song Yun asked curiously.
Shen Yan, sitting comfortably on a chair, watching the women coming and going, nodded, “All good, just a minor injury for someone like me.”
“Now that I’m here, tell me, what do I need to do?” Song Yun pulled up a chair and sat next to Shen Yan.
“When we enter the broadcasting hall later, just act cool, get it?
If you don’t understand, pretend you do, but don’t speak.
If you do understand, you can speak up a bit, but not too much,” Shen Yan instructed from the side.
“That’s it?”
“What else can there be?
Let’s go, let’s head in!” Shen Yan stood up and led Song Yun into the nearby broadcasting hall.
The hall resembled a stage, with three judges sitting side-by-side in three chairs, a table in front of them with a button.
Pressing it lit a red light, indicating disagreement with advancing the contestant.
If more than two red lights were lit, the contestant was eliminated.
“These two lights have their significance too,” Shen Yan whispered.
“Look, if the two of us team up, we can basically control the direction of the competition.
The third person doesn’t matter.”
“Isn’t that sleazy?
Better to keep it fair,” Song Yun said, slightly embarrassed.
“Cut it out, ignorance.
Isn’t that how society operates nowadays?
If you don’t play by the unwritten rules, you’re challenging the system, get it?” Shen Yan looked disdainfully at Song Yun, “I’m telling you, later, if you see someone you like, just pick them.
You press the button, and I’ll follow.”