Chapter 304: Ambush (Part 2)
Seeing Tang Qiqi trembling from the cold, Zhang Yang actually wanted to choose the hotel since it would be warmer. But the shooting angle there wasn't ideal, and entering a hotel required registration—too inconvenient. Most importantly, wasting time might alert Cheng Jisheng.
"The residential building!" Just as Zhang Yang hesitated, Tang Qiqi stepped out into the rain and walked toward the old residential building, as if she already knew what Zhang Yang was thinking.
"The rain's too heavy, you'll get sick." Zhang Yang followed, wanting to persuade her back, but Tang Qiqi didn't seem to feel anything and only shook her head.
The residential building didn't even have an iron gate. The two climbed seven floors, and only one household had light leaking from under the door.
They reached the rooftop and walked toward the railing. The rooftop was pitch-black, slippery with moss. Afraid she would slip, Zhang Yang quickly helped support her elbow.
Tang Qiqi glanced sideways at him but didn't say thanks.
She was clearly professional. Once on the rooftop, she surveyed the inn's location and immediately found the position and shooting angle.
"Gun."
"The rain's too heavy." Zhang Yang reached out; not only would it affect visibility and accuracy, but lying here for one or two hours would soak a person through.
"It's fine." Tang Qiqi began clearing the ambush spot. Zhang Yang looked around and spotted a door panel. Thinking for a moment, he dragged it over, braved the rain, and set it up as a rain shelter over the shooting spot. Only then did he take out the SSG69 and set it up.
The rain was blocked now, but the ground was soaked. Tang Qiqi was already lying down, soaked through, adjusting her aim.
Normally, she was a clean freak. But now, for the sake of killing Cheng Jisheng, she threw all that out the window.
Zhang Yang thought for a moment and took off his own coat—it was waterproof.
It was warmer and dry inside. Tang Qiqi's coat was waterproof too, but the inside had already gotten wet.
"Take off your coat."
Tang Qiqi froze, turned her head to look at Zhang Yang, then lowered her eyes slightly upon seeing him take off his coat. She wore only a thin shirt underneath. "Why? I'm not cold."
She continued adjusting her aim.
Zhang Yang frowned, wrapped an arm around her slender waist, lifted her up, yanked open her zipper, and—despite her shocked expression—pulled off her wet coat and wrapped her in his instead.
Tang Qiqi froze, feeling his warm hands against her icy skin. Her frozen heart trembled slightly.
After adjusting the angle and setting up the sniper rifle, a new problem appeared.
"The room light is off. We don't know where he is inside. Can't shoot like this." Zhang Yang looked at the Haixin Inn a hundred meters away and frowned. "You stay here and keep watch. I'll go lure him out."
"But…"
"Cheng Jisheng is like a startled bird now. How could he turn on the lights and draw attention? We need another method." Zhang Yang looked at Tang Qiqi.
"I'll be right back."
"If he turns on the light and I see him, what should I do?" Tang Qiqi asked.
"If it's really Cheng Jisheng, it's your call." Zhang Yang paused. "Take the shot if the chance is good."
Zhang Yang stretched his hand out—the rain had weakened. "I'm going."
"Be careful." Tang Qiqi turned to look at him and said softly.
Zhang Yang paused, nodded in the dark, unsure if she saw it.
He still carried a Type-92 pistol—given temporarily by Ao Tian once he learned Cheng Jisheng had arrived in Meining.
The rain had eased, but the wind was strong. Even with thermal underwear beneath his coat, Zhang Yang still felt goosebumps.
Fortunately, his physique was far beyond what it used to be.
Still, walking into the small inn looking like a drenched mess, the innkeeper eyed him warily. Although Zhang Yang's soaked clothes were all name-brand, his empty hands made him look not like a tourist nor a scammer—but more like someone chased out by his wife.
But after staring for a while, the innkeeper suddenly pointed at him, as if recognizing him. "You… aren't you…"
Zhang Yang quickly waved both hands. "Big brother, keep it down!"
"Hey, how can I keep it down? You're the pride of Meining…"
"Brother, please—" Zhang Yang wanted to die of embarrassment. "I need a favor."
"What is it? Tell me. Did you fight with your wife? It's fine, you can stay here… Wait no, today's New Year's Eve. Aren't you supposed to be in Linhai District?" The enthusiastic owner grew confused.
"I'm here looking for a friend. He said he lives here." Zhang Yang glanced at the stairs. "Fourth floor."
"Fourth floor? Oh—You mean that big-bearded guy? You're his friend?" The owner looked strangely at Zhang Yang. "Your friend's odd. I was about to go home for dinner when he showed up, threw money at me, and didn't say how long he'd stay. Stayed in his room all night, no lights, no noise. Owes loan sharks maybe?"
"Something like that." Zhang Yang sighed. "Thanks. He's upstairs now?"
"He is. Not sure if he's asleep. Should I call him for you?"
"No!" Zhang Yang raised a hand quickly. "I'll go myself. By the way, boss—why aren't you home with family?"
"Haha, I want to. But as you see, I still have a guest."
"Oh? You get many guests?"
"Guests? This time of year? Other than your friend, no one. I almost closed early."
Hearing this, Zhang Yang relaxed. At least, if a fight broke out, no civilians would be harmed.
"Brother, then why not go home?"
"I would have—if you didn't show up."
"Sorry about that. How about this—you go home. I'll head up to find my friend." Zhang Yang said, inspired.
"If I leave, how will you get out?"
"It's fine. You live nearby, right?"
"True. Here—my phone number. Call me if you need the door opened."
"Alright!"
Zhang Yang memorized the number. The owner locked the door and left with his wallet.
Zhang Yang checked his surroundings. He was now certain Cheng Jisheng was on the fourth floor—and the inn was completely empty.
He checked the wall clock—10 PM sharp. Zhang Yang took out his pistol and crept toward the stairs. The staircase was narrow, and the wood creaked under every step.
Just as he hesitated, a sound came from above—a door opening.
Then rapid footsteps—someone running downstairs.
The owner said the only guest was the big-bearded man, and the beard was Cheng Jisheng's disguise.
Zhang Yang's heart tightened. Was his presence discovered?
But he quickly realized—there was only one staircase. Whether coming up or going down, the path was predictable. He was in the dark; the enemy in the open.
But unexpectedly, the footsteps suddenly stopped.
Then—glass shattered on the second floor!
"Crash!"
A moment later—someone hit the ground outside.
"Thud!"
Zhang Yang instantly understood. Cheng Jisheng had detected him—and jumped from the second floor.
"Bang!"
Almost immediately afterward, a gunshot tore through the rainy night.
Tang Qiqi had fired.
Zhang Yang turned and rushed down the stairs. The front door was locked, but that only stopped honest people.
Without thinking, Zhang Yang fired twice at the lock, breaking it open and bolting outside.
Under the dim lights, he saw someone lying near the wall five or six meters away, face-down in the mud, hands spread out, blood spreading through the puddles.
He couldn't see the exact wound, but it wasn't the head—likely the chest or abdomen.
As Zhang Yang stepped out, the man struggled to stand.
Zhang Yang rushed over, pointed the gun at his head, and looked closely. The beard remained, but without sunglasses, Zhang Yang recognized him instantly.
Hearing Zhang Yang's footsteps, he gave up struggling and slumped down.
His head lifted slightly. Blood bubbled from his lips—likely a lung shot.
Seeing Zhang Yang, he coughed violently, then stared in disbelief. "Before I die… can you tell me… how did you find me?"
"Does it matter?" Zhang Yang checked his hands—no weapon—but stayed alert.
"True." Cheng Jisheng pressed himself against the wall, breathing hard, smiling strangely. "Let me smoke one… alright?"
"I don't have cigarettes."
"I do." Cheng Jisheng lit one with bloody hands, tossed the lighter, and took a fierce drag so strong it brought tears to his eyes.