Peach Blossom Unmatched

Chapter 15 Ambushed

After touring the underground lab, Qin Feng finally had a better understanding of Qin Group. The company operated in a wide range of industries, including pharmaceuticals, precision mechanical parts manufacturing, and construction materials.

Pharmaceuticals and precision mechanical parts manufacturing were Hou Bao’s areas of expertise—and together, they accounted for over 60% of the company’s annual profits.

For example, the three-clutch automatic transmission he’d developed had completely outperformed a certain German brand that had dominated China’s automotive industry for years. Now, it was even being exported to established industrial countries in Europe and America.

“Xiao Feng, you can’t just sit back and do nothing,” Hou Bao said earnestly. “Now that you’re back, you have a responsibility to take Qin Group— the company Ah Wei built—and make it even bigger and better. Mei Hui and I will help you every step of the way, but in the end, you need to learn these skills yourself. That’s the only way to be truly secure. Don’t you agree?”

Qin Feng had never wanted to go into business or manage a company. The reason he’d mustered the courage to destroy Death Island was to gain freedom.

Running a company was exhausting enough—and research and development would mean locking himself in a lab day and night. Hou Bao’s gray hair was proof of just how hard that life was.

But refusing outright would have seemed ungrateful. So he nodded firmly and said, “Don’t worry, Uncle Hou. I’ll work hard—I won’t let my father down, even in death.”

Hou Bao’s eyes filled with tears again. He patted Qin Feng’s shoulder and said, “What a good boy you are! You have my word—Qin Group will never fall into Cheng Mei and Qin Yu’s hands. Mei Hui and I will always stand by you.”

In truth, Qin Feng had been dying to ask one question: How much money does the company make in a year? If it wasn’t that much, he might as well go back to being a hitman. An S-rank mission alone paid over a million euros, and assassinating a high-ranking official like Wei Qingtian would net him at least 30 million euros—half of the total 60 million euro reward.

In the end, he held back. Asking directly would have made him sound greedy—and he didn’t want that.

He declined Hou Bao’s offer to send a driver and car to take him home, then left the building, humming a tune as he walked.

Now what? Mei Hui had called earlier to say she’d already found him a place to stay—a three-story villa with a basement wine cellar and a garden, covering nearly 500 square meters.

But it was still early, and he needed to eat before going home.

When he thought about food, he couldn’t help but think of Fang Fang—and her father’s amazing cooking. So he decided to head to the Fang family’s food stall.

Killing two birds with one stone: eating a good meal and spending time with a pretty girl.

Thinking back to the awkwardly cut-off moment of intimacy that morning, he mentally cursed Hou Bao a hundred times. Couldn’t he have shown up a little later? He’d ruined everything! If Hou Bao had been ten minutes late, he might have already established a relationship with Fang Fang.

Was moving that fast—starting a relationship after just one day—too hasty?

No way! These days, life moves fast. If you hesitate even a little, someone else will sweep in and take your chance. And then you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.

He hailed a taxi and told the driver his destination, “Laosan Street.”

The driver immediately said, “Laosan Street? It’s rush hour right now—there’s going to be a lot of traffic. Do you want to take a detour? If we don’t, we might get stuck, and you won’t be able to get out until we reach the destination.”

Qin Feng thought for a moment, “Let’s take the detour. It’s better than getting stuck. Don’t worry—I won’t get out until we arrive, and I’ll pay you in full.”

The driver finally relaxed. After starting the car, he picked up his walkie-talkie and said, “Hey, guys—I’m heading to Laosan Street via the South Ring Expressway. Let me know if there’s any traffic ahead. I don’t want to take the wrong route.”

Qin Feng didn’t pay much attention to the detour or the walkie-talkie. His memories of Pingyuan City were still stuck in his childhood, so he had no idea how to get to Laosan Street from here.

The taxi weaved through the streets and soon reached the South Ring Expressway—where there were far fewer cars and pedestrians.

He wanted to send Fang Fang a quick message to let her know he was coming, but he realized with a groan that he hadn’t asked for her phone number. Even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered—he still didn’t have a phone.

The driver chatted nonstop on the walkie-talkie, even telling a few dirty jokes to pass the time.

Qin Feng had no idea where they were.

As the car picked up speed, a faint sense of danger crept into his mind. As a hitman who’d stared death in the face countless times, his sixth sense was razor-sharp.

And his sixth sense was almost always right—not just during missions, but also during the deadly training sessions where trainees had to fight each other to survive. It had saved his life more than once.

He looked ahead, then frowned and suddenly said, “Driver, aren’t we going the wrong way? If we keep going like this, we’ll only get farther from Laosan Street.”

“Wrong way? No, we’re not!” A flicker of panic flashed in the driver’s eyes—he was lying.

In truth, Qin Feng had no idea if they were going the right way or not. He’d just been testing the driver.

“Stop the car. Where are you really taking me?” Qin Feng’s voice turned cold. One hand slipped into his belt, where he kept a garrote wire, while the other tensed—ready to knock the driver unconscious.

The driver realized he’d been found out. His voice trembled as he said, “I’m not lying! This is the right way—we’re almost there!”

Screech…

The tires screamed as the car, which had been moving at a moderate speed, suddenly slowed down and skidded to a stop sideways on the road.

The driver threw open his door and tried to run, but he was too slow. Qin Feng delivered a sharp chop to the back of his neck. Since the driver’s upper body was already outside the car, he fell forward onto the pavement.

The chop wasn’t fatal, but it would keep him unconscious for several hours.

Qin Feng hadn’t yet figured out what was going on—so he didn’t want to kill the driver.

Click-click…

Several bright headlights suddenly turned on, illuminating the taxi. Six cars surrounded the taxi, blocking it in on all sides.

Now Qin Feng understood: the driver had been using the walkie-talkie to report their location to his accomplices the entire time.

All six cars were black private vehicles—meaning this wasn’t a random taxi robbery.

Two men got out of each car. Some carried machetes; others were empty-handed.

Qin Feng shook his head and laughed bitterly. He’d spent his whole life ambushing others, but now—after returning to his long-lost hometown—he was the one being ambushed.

He opened the car door calmly and stepped out.

The leader of the group was a thin, tall man in his thirties. He stepped forward and asked, “You’re Qin Feng—the guy who beat up Chen Hu on Laosan Street yesterday, right?”

The fact that they knew his name meant this ambush had been carefully planned.

Qin Feng shrugged, “That’s me. Who are you?”

“Who we are doesn’t matter,” the tall man sneered. “All you need to know is that this time next year will be your death anniversary!”

Qin Feng’s voice dripped with contempt, “Is that all you’ve got? I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.”

“Haha! We know you’re good at fighting,” the tall man said. He gave a signal, and the men who had been empty-handed pulled out pistols from their waistbands. “But no matter how good you are, can you outrun a bullet?”