Chapter Forty-Five: The Fate of the Pig-Headed Man

Don’t be fooled by how the pig-headed man was thoroughly subdued by Zhao Qiang—he may have lost his temper, but he still possessed real martial skills. Facing someone as defenseless as Zou Lin, even with a gun in her hand, he could easily overpower her.

Seeing Zhao Qiang turn his back, the pig-headed man’s mind raced. With his abilities, if he could disarm the woman, no matter how formidable that youngster was, having a hostage would give him leverage. He’d have nothing to fear.

With that thought, his beady eyes flickered. Suddenly, he lunged, reaching lightning-fast for the gun in Zou Lin’s hand. Zou Lin screamed, but before she could react, the gun was snatched away as if by magic.

Everything happened in a flash—snatching the gun, the scream, the gunshot. In the blink of an eye, before Zhao Qiang could even turn around, the pig-headed man had already collapsed limply, leaving behind only a smoking gun barrel behind Zhao Qiang and the drifting haze of gunpowder.

Zhao Qiang walked over, gently patted Zou Lin’s shoulder, took the gun from the pig-headed man’s hand, and said, “The rest is up to you.” He handed the gun back to Zou Lin and walked away without looking back.

The pig-headed man lay on the ground, blood gushing from a hole in his chest. Zhao Qiang’s aim was true—the bullet passed through his ribs and shattered his spine. Even if he were taken to a hospital, he’d spend the rest of his life bedridden. Now, he was barely breathing, death imminent.

Zou Lin said nothing. Drawn by some hidden strength, she straightened the pig-headed man’s body and shoved him out the window. Below, countless zombies waved their arms, waiting eagerly for this meal falling from the sky.

Back in that chaotic little room, Zhao Qiang lay down fully clothed. Having learned from Li Zixin’s example, he had no hesitation dealing with men like the pig-headed one. But seeing the hatred in Zou Lin’s eyes, he left her the opportunity for revenge. The pig-headed man’s tricks could never deceive him. With years of watching American dramas like “LTM,” Zhao Qiang could read every subtle movement. Even with his back turned, he had already calculated the man’s actions and kept the gun ready.

When Zou Lin had finished, she came to Zhao Qiang with her head lowered, hatred gone from her eyes—only gratitude remained. It was no surprise. Since entering the city and taking up such a disgraceful profession, even her own brother had grown distant, let alone anyone else. None of the men around her treated her as a person; every client, every thug, wanted only to use her. Yet this man before her, as ruthless as any villain, had no ulterior motives—and even let her take revenge herself.

Zou Lin bit her lip, slowly took off the new clothes she had just put on, exposing her pale body once more to the cold air. Her freshly washed cheeks blushed as she crawled into Zhao Qiang’s sleeping bag.

In the darkness, her heated breath sounded beside his ear, her soft hands gently encircled his chest, her tenderness stirring something in Zhao Qiang.

“Qiang, are you awake?” Zou Lin whispered in the darkness, her breath fragrant and sweet.

---

With a beauty in his arms, Zhao Qiang could hardly sleep. The fire of desire, long suppressed, flared instantly. The sleeping bag was cramped, but he managed to turn around. Zou Lin’s alluring eyes glimmered, her pupils dilated, her snowy peaks pressed tightly against his chest, inviting him.

She wound her pale body around Zhao Qiang like a serpent. After months working at the salon, she knew how to please a man; her cherry lips found his, and a hand slithered towards his legs.

Desire surged in Zhao Qiang, but a sliver of clarity remained in his mind. He sighed softly, his iron grip sliding to the back of Zou Lin’s neck. With a pinch from thumb and forefinger, her hot body collapsed gently against him, tears sparkling on her long lashes.

---

Zou Lin hadn’t slept so soundly in ages. Since arriving in Star City, she’d never had a peaceful night—always anxious, afraid the police or neighborhood committee would check on her papers. After being captured, she endured daily abuse; only today did she finally sleep deeply. In her dream, her brother, whom she hadn’t seen in days, received his diploma and smiled sweetly at her. A chubby man stood by her side—she felt happiness at last.

When she opened her eyes, daylight had come. She was still lying in the sleeping bag, a hint of a man’s warmth lingering in her arms. “Qiang!” But Zhao Qiang was nowhere to be found. Zou Lin panicked—she cursed herself. I really am a worthless woman! She berated herself, convinced Qiang despised her tainted body, that she had angered him and that’s why he left without a word.

Tears welled up. Despite rolling with those filthy men every day, Zou Lin never wished to sink completely. Except for necessary expenses, all her earnings were saved for her brother in university. Like others her age, she dreamed of a prince on a white horse rescuing her from this hell, but now she’d driven that man away.

As she wept, she noticed the sleeping bag covering her head was gently pulled aside, and a chubby face appeared before her.

“Awake?” Zhao Qiang smiled, seemingly unaware of the tearful Zou Lin curled up before him.

He hadn’t left! Zou Lin quickly wiped her tears, poked her head out, and managed a faint smile. “Qiang, I’m awake.”

“Get up then. Put your clothes on so you don’t catch cold. I’ll wait for you at the door,” Zhao Qiang said, turning to leave the room.

Zou Lin felt a little lost. Zhao Qiang seemed so friendly, yet somehow distant. Her clothes from last night were neatly folded by her side. Remembering the events, even Zou Lin, hardened by experience, blushed.

---

Dressed, face flushed, Zou Lin stepped out of the room. The familiar aroma of instant noodles drifted down the hallway. Following the scent, she found Zhao Qiang with a small alcohol stove, a pot steaming over it, noodles tumbling in boiling water and releasing a tempting fragrance.

Zhao Qiang sat on the floor as always, stirring the noodles with a small fork. Seeing Zou Lin, he called out, “You’re here, haha.”

Zou Lin lowered her head, cheeks red, softly replied and carefully took a seat across from Zhao Qiang. “Good morning, Qiang.”

Without looking up, Zhao Qiang focused on the noodles, stirring distractedly. “Morning. You must be hungry. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Thank you, Qiang.” Zou Lin cradled her steaming bowl, taking a small bite. She hadn’t tasted anything hot in ages—usually just scraps left by others. Tears welled up again. That simple “thank you”—she wasn’t sure what it was for.

Zhao Qiang opened two more packs of noodles and dumped them into the remaining broth. He waved his hand. “No need for thanks—hurry and eat before it gets cold.”

“Your name is Zou Lin, right?” Zhao Qiang dished out his own noodles, rolling up a big bite with his fork and asked, mouth full, “What are your plans?”

Zou Lin nodded, setting her small bowl aside. “Can you call me Linlin?” Her voice was as soft as a mosquito, eyes full of expectation.

“Sure, Linlin it is. So, Linlin, things have settled down here—what do you want to do?” Zhao Qiang continued to wolf down the noodles.

“I want to go wherever you go, Qiang. You saved my life. If you don’t mind, I’d like to follow you from now on.” Zou Lin originally wanted to ask him to help find her brother, but the words stuck in her throat. She thought, who am I to ask him to risk so much for me after already saving my life?