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What he had originally considered was to locate that fellow’s whereabouts through a reward, finish his pressing matters, and then deal with that cargo.

However, because Wang Weimin paid little heed to the police’s pursuit, Liang Haiqing easily guessed his hiding place, and Feng Jun was able to lock onto the target with ease using his methods.

This series of events went so smoothly that he almost could not believe it—had he really found the person so easily?

Yet even so, he was in no hurry to catch the man. For one, he was not qualified to take action, and if he did, he might provoke disputes; for another, for the time being, it was really inconvenient for him to leave Zhengyang.

What followed was even more surprising to him: Xu Leigang volunteered to mobilize armed police to help him capture the fugitive.

Alright, it was because he intended to help the Xu Family out of unfair treatment, thus creating good karma and it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but Sister Hong had also taken action, helping him catch Wang Weimin.

He had to marvel, he had indeed made a few good friends; it was just that he had not achieved much before, so others did not lend a hand. Now that he had demonstrated his own value, people were no longer stingy with their assistance.

Some might think that others were willing to help only to use Feng Jun for something, looking at it from a perspective of interest.

But Feng Jun did not see it that way. He knew that being a valuable person did not necessarily mean one would receive help—the Hongjie Clubhouse did not deal in jade, after all. If Sister Hong helped him, it was a favor; if not, it was her right.

Not to mention, there was Jubaozhai backing Wang Weimin; helping Feng Jun would mean offending Jubaozhai.

In this day and age, who would willingly provoke a formidable adversary for no good reason without sufficient profit?

Therefore, Feng Jun was quite grateful for Sister Hong’s involvement.

What amazed him further was that less than twenty minutes after Sister Hong’s call, a return call came—Wang Weimin had already been caught and was currently being escorted to Zhengyang.

Such efficiency was a bit frightening. After all, the Dynamic Seafood City might focus on seafood and barbecue, but as the earlier screen had shown, there were disco elements involved.

Discos are filled with young people, reckless youths who are ignorant of the ways of the world. It’s always a chaotic mix. The person who could run such an establishment was never simple.

The guy named Xiao Wen, who managed to take someone out of there cleanly and efficiently, was even more extraordinary.

And Sister Hong was able to casually give orders to him—it really justified the term “societal.”

However, at that moment, Feng Jun could no longer indulge in such reflections. “How long will it take for them to bring the person here?” he asked.

Wang Haifeng answered promptly, “If they take the highway, an hour and a half is enough… It absolutely won’t take two hours.”

Feng Jun turned to Sister Hong, “What should we do then? Hand him over to the police?”

He was a bit worried about whether the police officer responsible for the reception would be reliable.

You see, in many cases that are quite flexible, where there’s a lot of room for maneuver, even someone like Liu Shuming, a very ordinary fitness coach, if someone pled his case after being found, he could get out of the police station with a relatively light price to pay.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Sister Hong answered with a smile. “Since there’s an assist in the investigation notice, just leave him at the doorstep of a police station, and then notify the responsible local bureau. Once the two sides meet, the necessary procedures will be in place.”

This move was quite ruthless; for any average police station, capturing a person on the investigation notice was undoubtedly a merit, even if it wasn’t a major case. Undeniably, some credit is always better than none, so finalizing the handover was inevitable.

For the responsible police bureau, however, it was much trickier. Once the proper procedures were followed and the criminal suspect was received from a fellow unit, any ensuing problems would fall on the receiving side’s shoulders —the likelihood of slipping through the cracks was nil, with the handover record in place.

Feng Jun couldn’t help but marvel again: Sister Hong was truly deserving of her reputation in society, playing this game so slickly and without a second thought.

Wang Haifeng, hearing this, was a bit puzzled, “If we leave him at the police station’s doorstep, aren’t we afraid that Wang Weimin will runaway?”

Leaving someone at the door surely meant the captors didn’t want to show their faces, letting the police take care of the rest.

But how to keep the person there without causing future trouble required thorough consideration.

Coach Wang believed that if he were to do it, there would probably be two options. One was to cut Wang Weimin’s Achilles tendons; the man wouldn’t be able to run away—this wasn’t his original idea; Zhengyang City’s gangsters often did this when dealing with their enemies.

Another was to tie Wang Weimin there or knock him out—in short, only one principle mattered: ensure that when the police found him, he could not leave in haste.

Both methods had their pros and cons, but one thing was certain: no matter which was used, it would blatantly leave evidence of third-party involvement, making it impossible for the police to feign ignorance.

Then, the third party would definitely be investigated, and if the Achilles tendon were cut, that would involve intentional injury. Even if the person were tied up or knocked out, it would still be hard to escape the charge of unlawful detention.

Wang Haifeng just wanted to know how Xiao Wen, without meeting in person, could deliver someone intact to the police.

“This is too easy,” Sister Hong casually replied, “Pour two bottles of white liquor down his throat and just dump him at the door of the police station, drunk as a skunk.”

Wang Haifeng’s mouth twitched at the answer, and when he looked up, he accidentally caught sight of Xu Leigang’s stunned face.

Clearly, they both found it hard to accept that such a delicate beauty could be so worldly and casually come up with such a solution—indeed worthy of the name “Sister Hong.”

Sister Hong, however, didn’t care about their reaction and was smiling at Feng Jun, “Do you have any suggestions?”

After pondering for a moment, Feng Jun replied, “Since it’s about drunkness, get a motorcycle and let him drink and drive… It’s normal to get injured in a crash, right?”

Damn! Hearing this, Wang Haifeng couldn’t help but shudder inside, “Drunk driving… The scene would be hard to fake, prone to slips, and if it led to police investigation, it would be troublesome.”

What he actually wanted to say was, aren’t you being a bit too ruthless, kid? Catching the person should be satisfaction enough, yet you’re thinking of injuring or crippling him?

There was no expression on Sister Hong’s face; she didn’t think Feng Jun’s idea was too extreme.

In this world, there’s no love without reason, nor hate without cause.

If Wang Weimin kept provoking time and again, then he should be prepared for the consequences—those who live by the sword die by the sword.

So she just nodded slightly, “Haifeng’s concerns are valid. Our main goal is to get him locked up. If the third party’s involvement is too obvious, that might give Jubaozhai an excuse to step in.”

Feng Jun was silent for a while, sighing softly, “Then it seems… there’s only that option.”

Sensing his reluctance, Sister Hong spoke again, “If you have any thoughts, speak up. There are no outsiders here.”

Feng Jun thought for a moment, then slowly began, “My point is, if he can be made to drink, he could also be made to take, to… drugs…”

“Sss…” Even Sister Hong, with all her experience, couldn’t help but draw a sharp breath at this: Aren’t you being a little too harsh?

But Wang Haifeng was the one who couldn’t hold back, “Let’s skip that idea; drugs… let’s not get involved with that stuff.”

“I don’t want to touch that either,” Feng Jun glanced at him sideways, “but I really can’t stand it. What have I done to deserve his repeated targeting? If I hadn’t reacted quickly, I would be the one with disabled legs now… or even killed in a car accident.”

Wang Haifeng had felt Feng Jun was too vengeful, but revisiting the causes and consequences, he could only heave a sigh, “That guy really brought it upon himself…”

Two hours later, Wang Weimin was tossed at the doorstep of May First Police Station, reeking of alcohol, but he wasn’t the only drunk; his driver, who had fled with him, was also there.

Feng Jun and his group were sitting in a restaurant diagonally opposite the police station, watching the scene with grins.

What followed need not be mentioned: A trainee police officer who happened to pass by discovered the two drunkards. He intended to help them into the police station to rest, but “accidentally” found out that one of them was the wanted Wang Weimin on a police lookout notice…

Having dealt with this matter, Feng Jun began arranging to move house the next day. He found, however, that although the villa in Peach Blossom Valley was nice and no one paid him much attention, the access control system was a bit inconvenient.

So, after moving most of his belongings to another villa, he left a few things behind. He decided to “charge up” there for a while since the less there was, the lower the risk of exposure.

The money from the jade auction had also been gradually transferred to him, so he found Xu Leigang, indicating his desire to install a generator at the villa, along with a storage tank for a large influx of diesel.

To his surprise, Xu Leigang straightforwardly suggested, “No need for the hassle. How much power do you need? I’ll have them run a dedicated line for you.”

Peach Blossom Valley was a rapidly developing tourist area with many infrastructure projects. Since tourism had its off and peak seasons, the electrical surplus there was huge, and the city ensured priority supply—no amount of electricity usage was considered too much.

Life is full of ironies; when Feng Jun had desperately wished for a dedicated line, he had to beg and plead, subjected to others’ scrutiny. Now that he had the money for a substantial generator, the dedicated line came to him without effort.

Feng Jun found it bitterly humorous. Since leaving Hongjie, barely more than two months had passed, and he had already rented three places, each better than the last. Yet, none of these brought him a sense of belonging, always feeling like a mere passerby.

He vowed quietly to himself, “The next place, I will buy it outright, no more renting!”

Just as he planned to go back to the mountain to continue “charging,” Zhang Wei called with good news, “The sample of the silver coins you wanted is ready. Wanna come check it out?”