118: You can try Chapter 118.

Over the next few days, everything proceeded according to plan.

Caregiver Liu arrived for work on time.

This woman in her forties was a person of few words, but her hands and feet were incredibly nimble; whether it was feeding, sponge baths, massages, or changing dressings, she did everything properly and thoroughly.

Even the nurses on rounds privately told Lu Zheng that hiring this caregiver was well worth it.

Lu Zheng saw this for himself, and the heart that had been hanging in suspense finally settled; he had completely unburdened himself of any worries.

He officially stayed by Jiang Chen's side, serving as both driver and personal bodyguard.

When Lu Zheng drove, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel hadn't changed in over a decade.

Neither too tight nor too loose, with his thumbs resting on the spokes, the following distance was always kept at a position that allowed him to react at any moment.

The transition between the brakes and the accelerator was almost imperceptible; as Jiang Chen sat in the back looking at his phone, his teacup sat on the armrest with the water's surface remaining perfectly still.

Upon reaching an intersection, Lu Zheng's gaze would rapidly cycle between the rearview mirror and the side mirrors, the frequency as rhythmic as a clockwork mechanism.

Jiang Chen never mentioned these details, but he noticed them every single time.

Their interactions were very quiet.

Lu Zheng was not a talkative person, and neither was Jiang Chen.

Often, from getting into the car to arrival, the only sounds in the cabin were the navigation announcements and the ticking of the turn signals.

Yet this silence wasn't awkward; instead, it made one feel at ease.

It was like two people each staying in their own place, both knowing what the other was doing without needing words to fill the gaps.

Whenever Jiang Chen had no arrangements, he would let Lu Zheng return to the hospital to keep watch, granting him freedom of movement and never binding him with rigid rules.

After a few days, a wordless understanding formed between the two of them.

During these days, Jiang Chen wasn't idle either.

Relying on his daily wealth intelligence, he precisely seized every business opportunity.

In three days, his account steadily grew by more than three million.

It was only a pity that no intelligence regarding Wantai Real Estate had appeared; otherwise, Zhou Wanquan wouldn't have had such an easy time.

But there was still one matter that remained on his mind.

Things on Zhou Wanquan's side were too quiet.

Three days had passed without any movement.

He hadn't sent anyone to deliver threats, hadn't applied pressure regarding the demolition, and even Wantai Real Estate's usual petty tricks had stopped.

This wasn't like Zhou Wanquan.

Jiang Chen did not let his guard down.

During the day, he went to school for classes as usual; when school let out in the afternoon, Lu Zheng would punctually park the car on the quiet little road by the campus back gate to wait for him.

Day after day, the route was fixed, and the time was fixed.

Lu Zheng's sensitivity far exceeded that of an average person.

Eleven years in the special forces allowed him to smell the slightest bit of wrongness in the air before danger truly arrived.

Over the past few days, the number of times he checked the rearview mirror while driving had doubled.

Once, while waiting at a red light, his gaze lingered on the right side mirror for two seconds.

A grey sedan was three car lengths behind; two men sat inside, neither getting out nor making calls, just sitting there.

When the light turned green, the grey sedan did not follow.

Lu Zheng noted this detail in his heart but didn't mention it to Jiang Chen.

It wasn't yet time to speak of it.

However, he adjusted his seat upright by half an inch.

At this angle, his field of vision in the rearview mirror increased by fifteen degrees.

When the school bell rang, the setting sun was already low in the west, casting an orange-red light over the tops of the campus plane trees, dyeing the leaves a warm gold.

Jiang Chen, carrying a black backpack, emerged from the side door of the teaching building and turned onto the small path leading to the parking lot.

This path was his fixed daily route.

Tall French plane trees were planted on both sides, their lush branches and leaves overlapping overhead to form a green corridor.

The road wasn't wide, just enough for one car to pass, and few people usually walked there; there was only the rustling of wind through the leaves.

The shadows of the plane trees were stretched long by the setting sun, casting interlaced patterns of light and dark on the ground.

Jiang Chen had walked about a hundred meters, with Lu Zheng half a step behind him on his right.

Then, Lu Zheng stopped.

It wasn't alertness or hesitation; it was that instinctive reaction of instantly switching from a relaxed state to a combat state.

His footsteps halted, his center of gravity lowered slightly, his shoulders and back tensed, his chin tucked in, and his gaze swept from the road ahead into the shadows of the plane trees on both sides.

Jiang Chen stopped as well.

Forty meters ahead, three black SUVs slowly drove out from the shade of the plane trees.

The engines had been off; there was no telling how long they had been waiting there.

The car doors opened almost simultaneously, and the men who stepped out were all dressed in black short-sleeved shirts, their builds sturdy, holding rubber batons in their hands; they fanned out unhurriedly, blocking the intersection ahead.

Jiang Chen didn't look back.

But he heard the sound of an engine coming from behind.

Low, steady, and drawing closer.

Two dark business vans approached from behind and stopped twenty meters away, cutting off the retreat.

Pincered from front and back.

Twelve people, all armed.

No passersby, no surveillance.

The branches and leaves of the plane trees overhead were too dense, leaving only scattered fragments of the sky visible.

Lu Zheng completed his assessment within a fraction of a second.

He didn't look back, his gaze rapidly scanning the formation in front.

Four in the front row, two on each flank, and the men from the two vans behind were fanning out.

The positioning was layered; this was no disorganized rabble.

The leader hadn't come out yet, likely waiting for the encirclement to close.

He took a side step, his body shielding Jiang Chen directly from the front, turning slightly to keep his left side—the side closest to Jiang Chen—fully protected.

He blocked him completely.

"Mr. Jiang, we're blocked front and back."

His voice was very low, his speaking rate faster than usual, but every word was extremely steady. "Twelve people, all armed. Stand behind me and don't move."

Jiang Chen didn't move. He stood in place, his gaze passing over Lu Zheng's shoulder to look at the three SUVs ahead.

His expression didn't change, and his breathing rhythm didn't falter; only his eyes turned cold.

This was Zhou Wanquan's handiwork.

From the crowd ahead, a man with an old scar running across his face stepped out.

The rubber baton in his hand wasn't raised; it just hung casually by his leg. His pace was neither fast nor slow, as if he were strolling in his own courtyard.

This relaxation was a form of pressure in itself.

He didn't need to strike an aggressive pose because he felt he had already won.

The Scarface Man stopped ten meters away, his gaze passing over Lu Zheng to land on Jiang Chen, sizing him up.

"Mr. Jiang," he spoke, his tone not heavy, even bordering on polite. "Chairman Zhou asked me to deliver a message."

He tapped the rubber baton lightly against his palm twice, as if discussing a minor business matter.

"Transfer those fifteen shops at Wantai's price. Sign the papers, and we'll act as if today never happened. If you don't sign..."

He tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward the dozen or so men behind him. "The brothers won't take your life, but you'll have to suffer a bit—enough for you to realize that holding out against Chairman Zhou for a few shops isn't worth it."

Having finished, he looked at Jiang Chen, waiting for an answer.

There was no shouting, no immediate violence.

First block the path, then state the terms; giving you a way out while also showing you the pit beneath it.

Achieving the goal with the minimum cost; if something went wrong, rubber batons wouldn't leave fatal wounds, and accountability wouldn't reach Zhou Wanquan's head.

From start to finish, he hadn't even shown his face.

Jiang Chen didn't speak.

His face showed none of the expressions the Scarface Man expected to see.

No panic, no anger, not even hesitation.

Lu Zheng took a step forward.

It wasn't a large step, but the moment his foot landed, his entire aura completely changed.

His shoulders and back fully opened, his center of gravity sank into his core, his feet were shoulder-width apart, and his knees were slightly bent.

His hands hung naturally at his sides, fingers slightly spread, not in a fist.

Someone truly about to strike won't clench their fists prematurely.

He stood there like a closed door.

A few seconds of silence passed.

Then he spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, low as if being crushed out from the bottom of his chest, with no rising inflection and no superfluous emotion, simply stating a fact.

"Take one step forward."

He paused for a beat.

"You guys can try."

The Scarface Man instinctively took half a step back.

He had seen people talk tough—the kind who gritted their teeth and glared.

But the tone of the man before him was like telling him there was a wall ahead and hitting it would hurt.

Not a threat, just a reminder.

This calmness made one's back tighten more than any roar ever could.