Chapter Twenty: Enshrouded in Layers of Mist

His muscles twitched, and his foot swiftly shifted from the accelerator to the brake. The steering wheel gave a slight turn, the piercing sound of the brakes shattered the silence, and the car, dragged by immense inertia, abruptly changed direction. Yet, it continued to slide backward toward the truck, the locked wheels scraping four long, gleaming black lines across the road, as the acrid scent of burning rubber invaded his nostrils.

With a light lift of his arm, he yanked the handbrake to its highest point, and in an almost impossible stretch of time, Chu Dong pressed the accelerator again. The rapidly spinning front wheels struggled against the direction of the slide, their futile friction with the ground echoing his desperate maneuver.

Just as the rear of the car was about to collide with the truck’s cab, the vehicle broke free from inertia and regained its forward trajectory, slipping into another lane and speeding past.

The car behind was not so fortunate, nor was its driver as resolute or skilled as Chu Dong. Before ascending the bridge, the trailing car had hesitated, falling nearly fifty meters behind, but ultimately followed. When the driver realized Chu Dong had turned around, it was already too late. His foot had lingered on the accelerator too long, and upon seeing the truck, he pressed it as though it were the brake, stomping down and refusing to let go.

Life and death hung by a thread. The red BMW brushed past, like an arrow shooting toward the truck...

Boom.

The BMW had barely cleared the truck by a few dozen meters when an explosion thundered behind, and flames soared skyward, painting the newly completed overpass in blazing red.

Slowing his speed, Chu Dong drove off the bridge as intermittent explosions continued to echo, burning fragments of metal scattering like fireworks.

“Don’t say anything when you get home. I’ll handle this,” Chu Dong said, his gaze fixed on the fiery inferno above, for once not displaying his usual flippant grin. Tan Xue, shaken from her brush with death, had lost her usual composure and nodded numbly.

Their wild, unyielding flight had long since taken them off the road to Tan’s house. After regaining his bearings, Chu Dong drove leisurely, popped in a CD at random, and let elegant piano music accompany their journey as he brought Tan Xue home.

Tonight’s events left Chu Dong perplexed, robbing him of his usual humor. After reaching Tan’s residential complex, he got out, handed her the keys, and hailed a cab back to his own garage.

These people couldn't have been after Tan Xue—a charming girl beloved by all, no one would have the heart to harm her so viciously. But who could harbor such deep hatred toward him, determined to see him dead?

Tian Bing?

Possible. Their conflict could be called an armed confrontation, but would it really warrant his life? It didn’t seem to have escalated that far.

Wang Dongliang?

Also within the realm of possibility. Rival lovers often lose their minds, and irrational acts aren’t unheard of. Yet he seemed short on time to orchestrate such a scheme.

Could it be the hidden hand behind the downfall of the Chu family?

But who exactly were these shadowy figures lurking in the background?

Tonight’s incident was thoroughly concealed by the car crash; how could he uncover the slightest flaw or trace?

Suddenly, Chu Dong sprang to his feet and grabbed the phone.

“Hey, Mouse, wake up! Isn’t your uncle with the traffic police? See if you can help me get the footage from the overpass tonight—I need it urgently.”

Without hesitation, Chu Dong dialed Mouse’s number.

“For heaven’s sake, are you serious? It’s so late and you won’t let me sleep? Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Mouse, just dozing off, was jolted awake.

“Sleep? I nearly became brothers with the King of Hell, and you want to sleep?” If he were closer, Chu Dong would drown him in spit.

Forcing himself to calm down, Chu Dong recounted the night’s events. The key was urgency—if too much time passed, some resourceful people might destroy any evidence.

“What?” Mouse sat up abruptly. “Who the hell dared target one of our crew? They must have a death wish. Just tell me, I’ll have Qiangzi take care of them.”

“Enough nonsense. Get moving. Let me know as soon as you hear anything.”

Hanging up, Chu Dong lit a cigarette and lay on the sofa, watching the phone, the smoke swirling around the glowing orange tip.

Ring...

“Hello, any news?” Chu Dong grabbed the phone the moment it rang.

“My uncle’s still at the scene. There were five people all together—four from the black sedan burned to ashes, the truck driver charred to a crisp, nothing left behind. And as for the surveillance footage you wanted, they checked: in the ten-odd minutes around the incident, none of the monitoring devices along the route sent back any signal. Looks like someone used a strong electromagnetic jammer. The investigation’s ongoing…” Mouse rattled off the update.

“Alright, got it. Go to sleep.”

Chu Dong slammed the phone down and exhaled a long plume of smoke. “Who the hell is plotting against me?”