Chapter 1887: Sorry

“Lan Yue, you’re really not a man.”

“What did you say!” The pretty boy suddenly turned his head.

The woman couldn’t support herself any longer, her hands clinging to the seat just to stay upright. She hung her head, panting slightly, “I said, you’re no match for him.”

“You!”

“I damn well!”

“Fine!”

The pretty boy pushed open the car door, barely steady on his feet, when a gun was tossed into his arms. He instinctively reached out to catch it, then recoiled at the sight of it and grabbed it tighter on reflex.

It was a gun, thrown by Yaen Chi.

“Hold it, go kill on your own.” Yaen Chi was just two meters away, having just taken down an assassin he was grappling with.

The pretty boy swallowed hard, his hands trembling like chicken claws, unable to grip the gun properly, not even knowing where the trigger was. He regretted getting out of the car, playing the hero at this moment—he could feel the gun’s warmth. He clutched it in his hands, ready to toss it back to Yaen Chi, but then saw Yaen Chi suddenly sway.

“What’s wrong with you?”

The pretty boy stayed put, leaning forward slightly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to approach, but he was too frightened, his body weak.

Yaen Chi gave him a glance and retreated slowly, moving back towards the car. The pretty boy hurriedly reached to help him into the vehicle, but misjudged and touched his wounded waist.

“Ah…” A low cry descended from above.

Yaen Chi already had a waist injury; after fighting for so long, the wound had split open, though his black shirt concealed it. The scent of blood was heavy.

The pretty boy didn’t dare touch him anymore. “Get in the car quickly, let’s get out of here.”

Yaen Chi held his hand, glanced towards the group of assassins, chuckled, “Look behind.”

“Behind? Where? Where?” The pretty boy looked around, seeing nothing, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re surrounded.”

The pretty boy gasped and almost fainted. He was frantic, “What do we do now? They’re coming from front and back, you’ve hurt so many of them, it’s over, we’re done for, if caught we’ll be tortured to death!”

Yaen Chi adjusted the cigarette in his mouth, only a bit of ember left to burn.

He fetched a cigarette from a box, stuck it between his lips, lit it, and winced slightly from the pain tugging at his wound. He hunched slightly, speaking low, “Get in, I’ll drive.”

“In this condition!”

“Even if I had half a breath left, I drive better than you, your skills won’t break through.”

Yaen Chi shoved him lightly, passing the cigarette box into the pretty boy’s arms. His shoulder leaned against the car, turned around, hand gripping the roof as he stooped intending to climb inside.

A gun muzzle suddenly dug into his lower back, Yaen Chi’s expression shifted sharply, eyes sliding sideways, the pretty boy aligning with his line of sight.

“Sorry, Grandpa.”

Yaen Chi laughed, “What, think you can’t win, so you want to hand me over for a better deal?”

The pretty boy let out two quirky snorts, “Not at all, they were mine all along, nothing to sell.”

The cigarette Yaen Chi clamped between his lips dropped a bit of ash, as he slowly straightened and turned face to face with the pretty boy’s teasing grin.

There was none of the earlier cowardly panic visible; his eyes brimmed with amusement as if appreciating a beast already trapped in a cage.

“I’ve been playing you, quite the spectacle, right, arranging so many people. You’re really worthy of being an ex-special forces, if we weren’t naturally opposed, I’d truly want to recruit you,” the pretty boy darted a glance at Yaen Chi’s cigarette, his smile layered with more depth, “Still smoking?”