61: Chapter 61 Mr. Hu, what... what's going on?

The play is about to begin; everyone, please wait and see.

Behind him, the person wearing the peaked cap also stood up, trailing far behind like a tail that couldn't be shaken off.

Hu Tian returned to his room and checked the time. It was 8:20 AM, forty minutes until nine o'clock—the timing was just right.

He sat on the sofa, turned on the TV, and idly flipped through a few channels, but his mind was calculating his next steps. His expression was as focused as a bomb disposal expert's.

Zhao Shanhe's people were already watching. Next, it would depend on how they made their move—would it be a civil confrontation or a physical one?

If they acted in the hotel, Zhao Shanhe would be stupid to the core; if they acted on the way to the Museum, that would be when the "real show begins." Who would be the lead actor then was anyone's guess.

Hu Tian leaned back on the sofa with a calm expression, quietly waiting for nine o'clock to arrive. His poise had the air of a great general who remained unfazed even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.

Meanwhile.

In the presidential luxury suite on the fortieth floor, Zhao Shanhe sat on a leather sofa with a glass of red wine in hand, listening to the scarred man's report. He looked like a king awaiting a verdict.

"President Zhao, the target revealed while on the phone in the restaurant that someone would pick him up around 9:30 to leave the hotel for most of the day."

The scarred man stood respectfully to the side and spoke in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of excitement.

Zhao Shanhe's eyes lit up, and he set down his wine glass with a movement as elegant as if he were filming a movie. "Going out? Where to? Is he going to meet some big shot?"

"He said it's in the city, about a half-hour drive. He didn't specify the location; he's quite tight-lipped."

The scarred man replied, a trace of helplessness in his tone.

Zhao Shanhe stood up and paced a few steps in the room, a cold smile appearing on his face—a smile that sent shivers down one's spine. "Good, very good. This kid actually dares to go out so brazenly. He's truly seeking death. There's a path to heaven he won't take, yet he breaks into hell where there's no gate."

He turned to look at the scarred man, his gaze ruthless. "Scarface, get Old Three and the others, prepare the car, and wait outside the hotel. As soon as that kid comes out, keep a close eye on him. Find a secluded place to strike; don't let him escape."

The scarred man nodded with crisp, efficient movements. "Understood, President Zhao. I guarantee the mission will be completed."

Zhao Shanhe said coldly, his voice laced with ruthlessness, "Remember, I want him alive. I want him to personally tell me the whereabouts of that shipment, and then I'll deal with him properly so he knows why the flowers are so red."

"Don't worry, President Zhao. I'll make sure it's handled perfectly. I'll make him wish he were dead."

Scarface patted his chest in guarantee, looking like a soldier about to go to the battlefield.

Zhao Shanhe walked to the window and looked down at the street below, his gaze seemingly able to pierce through everything. "It's hard for me to act while this kid is in the hotel, but once he's out, I'll let him know who really calls the shots in Jinling, who is the 'local tyrant' here."

He narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp with cruelty. "But remember, be clean and quick when you strike. Don't make too much noise. Find a remote spot, preferably toward the outskirts. There are fewer cameras there, and even if there's a commotion, no one will care. When the time comes, throw him into the river, and no one will ever know."

"I understand, President Zhao. We're familiar with this kind of thing."

Scarface nodded understandingly, a flicker of cruelty passing through his eyes.

"Go then. Report any situation to me immediately. Don't make me wait too long."

Zhao Shanhe waved his hand as if dismissing a servant.

Scarface turned and left the room, pulling out his phone and dialing several numbers as he walked, giving low-voiced instructions in a hurried, deep tone.

Zhao Shanhe sat back on the sofa and picked up his wine glass, gently swirling it. The deep red liquid rippled in the glass, reflecting his current restless heart.

"Hu Tian, Hu Tian, did you think you were safe just by hiding in the hotel?"

He muttered to himself, a smug smile on his face—a smile that hid daggers. "Since you've delivered yourself to my door, you can't blame me. You brought this on yourself; don't blame anyone else."

...

Time quickly reached 8:50 AM, and Hu Tian's phone rang with a crisp, pleasant tone.

He glanced at his phone; it was an unknown number, but he knew the main player had arrived.

"Hello, Mr. Hu. I am the driver arranged by the Cultural Relics Bureau to pick you up. I'm already at the hotel entrance."

A steady male voice came over the phone, sounding very reliable.

"Alright, I'll be right down."

Hu Tian replied in a calm tone.

Hanging up the phone, he stood up, grabbed his coat, and slung a simple backpack over his shoulder. It contained some daily necessities—acting required a full set, after all.

Of course, the truly important items had already been stored in the System Space. This backpack was just for show, to deceive others.

Hu Tian went downstairs to the hotel lobby and immediately saw a black business van parked at the entrance. The vehicle looked low-key yet luxurious.

The car was clean and tidy, looking quite understated. The license plate was an ordinary civilian one, and there were no markings of the Cultural Relics Bureau on the exterior. This was the style of official vehicles—discreet.

This was a rather low-key arrangement, consistent with the Cultural Relics Bureau's way of doing things.

A middle-aged driver in dark casual wear was standing by the car. Seeing Hu Tian walk out, he immediately stepped forward with a very respectful attitude. "Mr. Hu?"

"That's me."

Hu Tian nodded, his expression indifferent.

"My surname is Li; you can just call me Old Li."

The driver opened the car door with practiced movements. "The Bureau instructed me to take you directly to the Museum. The trip should take about half an hour. Please, get in."

Hu Tian climbed into the car and casually scanned the interior. His gaze seemed idle, but he was observing everything minutely.

The rear space was spacious and the seats were comfortable. There was nothing special about it—just a very ordinary government vehicle.

The business van slowly pulled away from the hotel entrance at a steady, moderate speed.

Through the rearview mirror, Hu Tian noticed that the gray minivan at the hotel entrance immediately started up and followed at a moderate distance, like a mangy dog that couldn't be shaken off.

As expected.

The corner of Hu Tian's mouth curled into a cold sneer. Zhao Shanhe's people were truly impatient. Were they in a hurry to be reincarnated?

"Mr. Hu, is this your first time in our city?"

Old Li asked casually while driving, clearly trying to lighten the mood and break the awkwardness.

"Sort of. I've been here a few times before, but it was always a quick pass-through. I never got to enjoy it properly."

(In the past, as a corporate drone chasing sales, I ran through here a few times.) Hu Tian responded casually, but his eyes were sharply observing the situation outside the car.

The car drove off the city's main roads and gradually headed toward a relatively remote direction. The road conditions became increasingly poor.

The Cultural Relics Bureau's Museum was located in the western outskirts of the city. That area was relatively quiet with little traffic—a perfect place to make a move.

The more secluded the stretch of road, the more suitable it was for an ambush. Zhao Shanhe had chosen a good spot.

Hu Tian knew what was coming. It seemed highly likely that Zhao Shanhe's people would strike on the road rather than wait until they were near the Museum, which was, after all, the Bureau's territory.

After all, the area around the Museum was covered in surveillance and was an official institution. They wouldn't dare cause trouble in such a place unless they wanted to go to prison.

The business van continued to move steadily forward, and the gray minivan behind was still following closely, maintaining a consistent distance. Its patience was admirable.

About twenty minutes later, the business van turned into a section of the old city that was clearly quite remote.

This area was filled with old buildings left over from the Republican era. Blue bricks and black tiles, with mottled walls telling of the vicissitudes of time, exuded a sense of chill.

The plane trees on both sides of the street had lush foliage that blotted out the sun, casting a gloomy shadow over the road.

At this hour, pedestrians were scarce. Occasionally, a few elderly people exercising could be seen, along with a few breakfast shops open for business, emitting clouds of steam—the only sign of life on the street.

Old Li drove steadily, clearly familiar with this road.

Just then, the gray minivan that had been following at a steady pace suddenly accelerated, its engine letting out a low roar like the growl of a wild beast.

The minivan surged past the business van and then swerved to block the way ahead, coming to a sudden, screeching halt.

"Screech—" The tires emitted a piercing scream as they skidded against the ground.

Old Li instinctively slammed on the brakes. The business van jerked to a stop, the chassis swaying slightly. The momentum caused both men to lurch forward.

"What's going on? Did this driver forget to take his medicine?"

Old Li frowned, clearly not expecting this situation. His face instantly turned pale.

Hu Tian didn't say a word. His eyes merely turned cold as he looked ahead, his gaze seemingly able to pierce through steel to see Scarface and the others inside the vehicle.

The minivan's door slid open with a loud clatter that sounded exceptionally harsh in the quiet street.

Five or six men jumped out of the car. The formation looked just like a triad gang fight in a movie.

Leading them was the scarred middle-aged man he had seen in the restaurant that morning. His fierce face wore an arrogant smile, as if he were looking at a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

The others were also dressed like street thugs—some in tank tops showing off tattooed arms, others wearing gold chains. None of them looked like good people; their aura was even more thuggish than common hooligans.

The group headed straight for the business van with heavy, aggressive steps.

Scarface walked at the very front, weighing a baseball bat in his hand. His posture made it clear that those who came were not friendly, and those who were friendly would not have come.

"Mr. Hu, this... what is going on?"

Old Li's face was pale as his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. He was clearly an honest man who had never seen such a scene; he looked as though he were scared out of his wits.

"Don't move. Just stay seated."

Hu Tian said faintly, his tone as calm as if he were remarking on the nice weather.

He pushed open the car door and stepped out unhurriedly. His composed attitude made it seem as if he weren't facing a group of thugs, but rather old friends coming to pick him up, or perhaps "wealth-distributing boys" coming to give him money.

Seeing Hu Tian get out of the car, Scarface's smile became even more hideous. His expression was uglier than a wailing ghost. "Yo, little brother, what a coincidence. We meet again. Truly, 'where in life do we not meet again?'"

"It is quite a coincidence."

Hu Tian stood by the car with his hands in his pockets, looking composed and as dashing as a movie star. "But I think this coincidence was probably meticulously arranged by you all, wasn't it? This script is quite well-written."

"Haha, little brother is indeed smart. A sensible person."