Chapter Eight: An Ambush on the Road

Chu Feng returned home and called the hospital to request a few days off. Then, he went to his room, changed his clothes, and packed the tools of his trade.

After gathering his things, he headed upstairs to his sister Chu Yan’er’s room. When he pushed the door open, she was playing the piano. The melody was Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, Chu Feng’s favorite piece.

He waited patiently for his sister to finish playing before approaching her and gently ruffling her hair.

“Brother, when did you come in? I didn’t even notice,” Chu Yan’er turned around, a smile lighting up her face as she saw her brother.

“I just got here, not long ago,” Chu Feng replied casually, pressing a couple of piano keys as he looked at his sister, a complicated feeling welling up inside him.

“Did you come to see me because something’s on your mind?” Sensing her brother’s distracted manner, Chu Yan’er guessed he had something weighing on him today.

“It’s like this: I have to go to the capital today. The hospital there has taken in a patient they can’t treat, so they’ve asked me to come and take a look.”

He didn’t tell his sister the whole story. The fewer who knew, the better. Besides, Chu Feng couldn’t shake the premonition that this trip to the capital wouldn’t be as smooth as it appeared—there was bound to be danger lurking beneath the surface.

“Then go ahead. Aunt Zhang is here to look after me. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” Chu Yan’er said, knowing her brother’s medical skills were extraordinary. She assumed someone had simply invited him for a surgery and felt happy for him.

“All right. Just remember to eat on time and take care of yourself. I’ll be back in a few days,” Chu Feng said as he inputted some of his remaining lifespan from his watch into his sister’s account—the number on his watch dropping from forty-two to forty.

He chatted with Chu Yan’er for a while longer, then spoke a few words to Aunt Zhang before hurrying to the airport with his things.

At the airport, Elder Wang had already arranged for someone to meet him. Not long after boarding the private jet, the plane took off for the most bustling city in Huaxia—Yanjing.

In the capital, inside a lavish villa, a sinister-looking young man sat on the living room sofa, with three burly men standing beside him. Each had prominent temples, the mark of men highly skilled in martial arts.

“Elder Wang has brought a miracle doctor from Shanghai to treat that old codger. Your task is to eliminate both Elder Wang and this miracle doctor. This is your first mission—don’t fail.”

As soon as the young man finished speaking, the three men at his side vanished from sight.

After an hour and a half in the air, the plane landed smoothly at the capital’s airport, where Elder Wang led Chu Feng to the parking garage beneath the airport.

Elder Wang’s people were already waiting, ready to take Chu Feng straight to the hospital where the old soldier was being treated.

But as soon as Elder Wang and Chu Feng stepped out of the elevator into the underground parking lot, Chu Feng noticed something was off.

“Wait a moment. Something’s not right here. We should be careful,” Chu Feng whispered as he approached Elder Wang.

“It’s fine. I’ve arranged for people here—there won’t be any trouble,” Elder Wang replied confidently, preparing to call his contacts.

“Watch out!” Suddenly, an intense sense of danger surged within Chu Feng. He reacted instantly, pulling Elder Wang forward two steps.

At the spot where they’d just stood, two bullet holes appeared in the ground. It was clear someone was armed—and using a silencer.

“What’s going on? Why are my own people shooting at me?” Elder Wang was baffled, unable to comprehend why the very people he’d stationed here would turn their guns on him.

“The reason is simple: either your people are dead, or they’ve been compromised,” Chu Feng said as the two hid behind a concrete pillar.

It was still unclear how many assassins were in the parking lot, and Chu Feng didn’t dare risk peeking out. The main problem was he didn’t know their exact positions.

“I’ll call for reinforcements. I refuse to believe anyone would dare lay a hand on me!” Elder Wang insisted, taking out his phone, but Chu Feng stopped him.

“Calling now is useless. How much time do you think they’ll give us? The most urgent thing is figuring out where the shooters are!”

Chu Feng was not the type to sit and wait for death. If he hadn’t reacted so quickly just now, both he and Elder Wang would already be dead.

When he’d exited the elevator, Chu Feng had caught a faint scent of blood in the parking lot—a smell all too familiar to him as a doctor.

From somewhere, Chu Feng produced a surgical scalpel. It was exceedingly thin, and the blade’s polished surface could be used like a mirror.

Stealthily, Chu Feng extended the scalpel outward. The parking lot was dim, with few working lights.

Using the reflection in the scalpel’s blade, he saw two armed men in black approaching—their guns at the ready. One was near Elder Wang, the other near Chu Feng.

After marking their positions, Chu Feng signaled Elder Wang to crouch down. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the scalpel spinning toward the assassin on Elder Wang’s side.

The killer sensed a swift breeze across his face, but saw nothing—probably thinking it was just a draft from the ventilation.

With a soft thud, the scalpel, thin as a cicada’s wing, pierced the assassin’s throat. The man clutched his neck, wanting to shout a warning, but no sound came out.

With a heavy gasp, he struggled for a few seconds before collapsing, the noise drawing his partner’s attention.

The remaining assassin, frightened by the sight of his companion lying in a pool of blood, quickly hid behind a nearby car.

Catching a glimpse of the assassin’s position in his peripheral vision, Chu Feng silently crept around to the rear of the vehicle. The killer kept his eyes fixed forward, oblivious to his flank.

Moving soundlessly, Chu Feng edged nearer. Sensing something to his side, the assassin glanced over—and froze in shock at the sight of Chu Feng.

Seizing the opportunity, Chu Feng lunged forward, and with a swift motion of his left hand, traced a line across the assassin’s throat.