Chapter 118: A Bowl of Chitterlings

Clap! Clap! Clap!

A round of applause rang out abruptly inside the factory. Three spotlights snapped on, casting a harsh, direct beam onto the curtain at the front of the hall. As the curtain dropped, Old Man Chen stood in the light, a smile on his face.

Suspended directly above and behind him was a woman in a white lace dress. Her head hung low, her long, dark hair disheveled and obscuring her face, while streaks of fresh blood trickled slowly down her snow-white thighs.

Han Yuan glanced at the woman suspended in the air and felt as if he had been struck by lightning. He carefully laid Hao Qian down on the ground, then turned toward Old Man Chen, his expression twisted in fury. His eyes bloodshot, he growled, "I’m going to kill you, you animal!"

Just then, the factory doors slammed shut with a boom, and several burly men wearing steel masks emerged from the dark shadows surrounding them.

Zhang Yunxi immediately stepped forward to grab Han Yuan, whispering, "Stay calm. If you rush in like that, not only will you fail to save your sister, but we’ll both end up dead."

"What a moving drama. They say that whores have no heart and actors have no loyalty, but it seems this Hao Qian is quite the sentimental soul. A pity, though—beauty is always cursed with a thin fate," Old Man Chen remarked, casting an appreciative glance at Zhang Yunxi. "As expected of that man’s daughter; you truly have both courage and wit." He pulled a palm-sized speaker from his pocket, pressed a button, and the sound of several gunshots—*bang, bang, bang*—echoed through the room. "You should have been a director; your use of sound effects is brilliant, and the timing of cutting that lamp was perfect."

Han Yuan had no interest in small talk. He stared straight at the woman in the white dress, shouting anxiously, "Qingxue! Are you alright?"

The woman in the white dress trembled at the sound of Han Yuan’s voice. She slowly lifted her head, revealing Han Qingxue’s paper-pale face. Her eyes were hollow, and her lips quivered as she opened and closed them. "Brother... my... the baby... the baby is gone!"

Han Yuan stood frozen in place, as if he hadn't heard a word she said, murmuring, "What... did you say?"

"The baby is gone..." Han Qingxue repeated, her voice frantic and delirious. "The child in my belly is gone!"

Han Yuan’s breathing grew rapid. "The child? Whose child? When did this happen?"

"I can be kind enough to tell you that," Old Man Chen interrupted with a light cough. "I happen to know the father of the child. He was just a small editor at my newspaper, nothing of importance. He met your sister during an interview—love at first sight, you might say."

Han Yuan narrowed his eyes, his voice icy. "Did you orchestrate this?"

"You misunderstand me. Who can control matters of the heart?" Old Man Chen spread his hands. "Your sister and that wretch were a match made in heaven; it had nothing to do with me. I only heard about it by chance, then simply utilized the wretch’s ambition to get ahead. Men, you know—they all want to conquer the world, especially those who live off women; they want to prove themselves. I’m a kind person, so I gave him an opportunity to conquer the world through film, to help him make a name for himself..."

Han Yuan suddenly remembered the film Han Qingxue had recently signed on for, the poster he had taped to his prison cell wall. He tilted his head to look at Old Man Chen and said coldly, "I heard that film was halted due to issues with certain actors, and the director was sued by investors. In that case, those investors must all be your friends. First, invest, then have a minor character cause a stir to whip up a frenzy, preferably inciting the rage of the keyboard warriors online. With public opinion in an uproar, the film has to be shelved. Then you step in to clean up the mess—not only do you get a film for free, but you also earn a reputation for righteousness."

"Clever!" Old Man Chen clapped his hands. "How about that? I actually learned this trick from watching you stir up the stock market back then. Does it taste like the student has surpassed the master?"

"Mediocre. That trick is outdated now; only greedy fools would fall for it," Han Yuan sneered. "Did you go through all this trouble just to settle the score for those 1.8 billion from back then? That seems excessive. For a wealthy tycoon like you, 1.8 billion is just a single hair on your body. It doesn't make sense to hold onto such a grudge over that much money. Is there something else between us?"

"Who the hell is a tycoon! You really have never looked at me with respect, have you? I already corrected you once, but you didn't keep it in mind..." Old Man Chen said angrily. "1.8 billion is indeed not much, and I didn't originally intend to keep hounding you. You brought this upon yourself. Truth be told, if you hadn't come to Greentree City to stir up this muddy water, your sister wouldn't be hanging there, and that so-called 'Fairy Hao' wouldn't have been stabbed to death... Tell me, wouldn't it have been better to just rot quietly in prison? You had to come out and pick at the scab on my heart. Now look—one body, two lives..."

Zhang Yunxi suddenly interjected, "From the sound of it, there are others behind these events? Do you know what they say about the net of justice—it is vast, and though it may be wide, it lets nothing slip through. The small-time drama at the film studio is one thing, but Hao Qian, the child in Han Qingxue’s womb—two lives! That’s enough to keep you in prison until you rot."

"How righteous!" Old Man Chen’s expression turned cold. "Why don't you go back and ask your mentally unstable father how many lives he ruined! How many parents he left without children?" He paused, the corner of his mouth curling upward. "Besides... what evidence do you have that I killed these two? Eyewitnesses? A murder weapon? Police work relies on evidence, and courts require strict legal clauses..."

Zhang Yunxi sneered, "My father once said: whatever exists must leave a trace. Sooner or later, we will find the evidence, and we will make sure you sit in that cell for a long, long time!"

Han Yuan looked at the tear-stained Han Qingxue and let out a long breath. "I don't care about all that... you didn't kill Qingxue, which means you don't want to. I just want to know what I have to do to take her with me."

"I am a man of principle. I never bully women and children," Old Man Chen coughed lightly. "Actually, the child in your sister’s womb came unexpectedly and left unexpectedly. You can’t blame me; I just raised her altitude a little, and who would have thought she’d miscarry... If you want to take your sister, it’s simple. Do you know the saying, 'No more than three'?"

Clapping his hands, Old Man Chen continued, "I invited you to eat pig intestines twice, but you refused both times—didn't give me any face! Surely you can eat this third time?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the butler, Chen Chi, walked out from behind a broken crate, carrying a tray with a beaming smile. "Freshly plucked intestines, 180 a plate! You ask me how they are? Let me tell you—the first bite whets your appetite, the second strengthens your kidneys. One plate down your gullet, and I guarantee your little face will be glowing: white with a hint of yellow, and yellow with a hint of black..."

He strutted up to Han Yuan, lifted the gleaming silver lid from the tray, bared his two rows of yellow teeth, and grinned. "Young Master Han, please, dine!"

Zhang Yunxi glanced at the bloody intestines on the plate, where thick, yellowish-black paste could faintly be seen inside. She felt her stomach churn, gagged, and shook her head, tugging at Han Yuan’s clothes.

Han Qingxue, hanging in mid-air, was stunned. She suddenly burst out, "Your surname is Han, mine is Han! I made it clear in the visitation room—we have nothing to do with each other! I don't need you to save me! Go back to where you came from! Don't be so shameless... it makes me look down on you!"

Old Man Chen pulled out his phone, opened the camera app, and squeezed out a smile. "Brother Han, are you going to eat? If not... I’ll let your sister down and let those foreigners in the steel masks finish the scene they didn't finish at the studio... I’ll count to three, and then I’ll start recording. You choose which side I film; either way, it should be quite spectacular."

"Three, two..."

"Han Yuan, don't eat it! He’s just playing with you. We can find another way to save Qingxue..."

"You Han bastard, if you eat that, I will never speak another word to you in this life!"

"I’ll eat! Niuniu, it’s okay..." Han Yuan looked at Han Qingxue with affection, licked his lips, and a cold smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Pig intestines—I actually really liked them when I was a kid... Niuniu, you remember the fat cook at the restaurant? He used to make me braised pig intestines on the side." He decisively snatched the plate from the butler, Chen Chi, and took a light sniff. "The flavor isn't as good as the fat cook’s, but it doesn't matter. When a person is starving, let alone pig intestines, even a bowl of shit would taste good."

Chen Chi chuckled sinisterly. "Don't worry, Young Master Han. There’s some of that fragrant stuff inside the intestines. It was a bit rushed, so we couldn't wait for the contents to fully digest before slicing them up... but they’re still warm, so I imagine the texture is excellent."

"Oh?" Han Yuan picked up a piece of intestine with his fingers, threw it into his mouth, and chewed forcefully several times without changing his expression before swallowing. "It seems you’re quite experienced, Butler Chen. You must eat this stuff often. I thought you only ate the hot dog sausages that old man likes."

Chen Chi’s face darkened. "So Young Master Han likes this, does he? Then finish every last bit on the plate!"

"Elegant!" Old Man Chen held up his phone to record while giving Han Yuan a thumbs-up with his other hand. "Those so-called 'upper-class' people always praise your noble demeanor, and seeing it today, it’s true. If it were me eating pig intestines, I’d just be wolfing them down." He glared at Chen Chi. "Don't interrupt, you old fool. Let Brother Han finish these eighteen pieces in one go... And why didn't you prepare a knife and fork for him? Eating with his hands—doesn't that make him no better than a beast?"

Chen Chi laughed sheepishly. "Master, it was all so rushed, how could I remember such a minor detail? I even had to forage for these intestines on the spot just to make sure they were steaming hot... Besides, Young Master Han isn't wearing a suit right now; there’s no need to be so formal."

Old Man Chen sighed, shaking his head. "In the end, it’s not perfect. Wearing a suit and a bowtie while chewing on something bloody—that’s what you call nobility..." He turned to look at Han Yuan, who had paused, and urged, "Eat, Brother Han, don't be shy! If it’s not enough, I’ll get you more! Free refills!"

Han Yuan took a deep look at Old Man Chen, then picked up the remaining pieces of intestine one after another and shoved them into his mouth. He felt the yellowish-black paste shatter and splatter in his mouth; he closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Opening his eyes, he stuffed the rest of the plate into his mouth, chewing vigorously while laughing loudly. "Delicious, delicious! It really tastes like something!"

Old Man Chen laughed along with him. "Refreshing! Truly, how refreshing!"

After struggling to swallow the intestines in his mouth, Han Yuan pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiped the yellowish-black residue from his lips, and said calmly, "I’ve finished the food. Let her go."

Old Man Chen pocketed his phone, narrowed his eyes, and pursed his lips. "I don't recall saying I would let your sister go just because you finished the intestines."

The coldness on Han Yuan’s face deepened. His voice was icy. "Are you playing with me?"

"You’ve played me so many times, surely it’s not too much for me to play you just once?" Old Man Chen cleared his throat. "I’m a businessman. If you want to take something from me, you naturally have to leave something behind. How much do you think your sister’s life is worth? 1.8 billion?"

"And how much do you think your own life is worth?" Just as Han Yuan began to speak, a cold voice rang out through the factory. "I hate people who go back on their word more than anything. Aren't two lives and a bowl of intestines enough? And your previous words clearly meant that if he wanted to take his sister, he had to eat the intestines... Old man, people who tell lies are supposed to swallow a thousand needles, you know!"

As the voice faded, the sound of something tearing through the air rang out. Immediately, the burly men in steel masks went limp, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed. Deeply embedded in the exact point four-and-a-half inches behind the crown of each man’s head was a thin, black silver needle, vibrating slightly...