Chapter 31: I Am the White Wolf King

"Stop right there, you bastard! I swear I'll break your legs!"

Chen Fan didn’t even turn his head. He just kept running, unfamiliar with the streets of University City and not knowing where there might be a quiet alley to shake off his pursuers. He simply chose whichever road was wide, wherever the crowds were thickest.

"You dog, stop right now!"

The curses still echoed behind him. Chen Fan saw the road ahead was under construction. Quick to react, he leapt into a patch of bushes and disappeared.

"Elder, Elder, can the White Wolf King card really handle those two thugs? I mean, I'm not even tired, but running like this isn't a solution," Chen Fan muttered, not even short of breath as he pushed aside branches, afraid to slow for even a moment for fear of being caught and torn apart.

"Come on, Elder, help me out here! Give me some guidance! You wouldn't feel good seeing me beaten half to death, would you?" He rambled on, the trees thickening around him, making it clear he'd wandered far off course.

"You really are heartless. After all I’ve given you, you’ve let me down," Chen Fan fumed, slapping his pocket—only to discover it was empty.

The Elder card was still in his military trousers; he’d forgotten to take it with him.

"Can this White Wolf King card even deal with thugs? Whatever—survival first. If I can’t get away, I’ll think about it then."

A patch of muddy ground appeared ahead. Chen Fan bounded over it with ease.

The further he ran, the fainter the shouts behind him became. After all, this wasn’t a main road—there were paths everywhere in the woods. Who could know which thicket he’d vanished into?

"Damn it, that bastard got away again," Bald Hui had charged too fast, missed his footing, and slid to the bottom of a slope, flat on his back.

Shorty Qiang hurried over to help him up. "That brat will have to come back to campus. I’ve told the guys to wait at the gates. He’s not getting away."

In the night sky, a black shape streaked past, and something heavy landed squarely atop Bald Hui’s head.

He felt the bird droppings on his scalp and cursed, "I’m never coming to this dump again! That brat’s ruined my mood—this time, I won’t let him off. Let’s go stake out the gates. Post someone at every entrance. You remember what he was wearing, right?"

"I do, boss. I’ve already told the guys. Even if he tries to fly out, I’ll bring him down."

Hearing no further noise behind him, Chen Fan finally slowed, taking in his surroundings. Unlike a typical greenbelt, this felt more like a wild forest, the air startlingly fresh.

But he was lost and couldn’t enjoy it.

"Damn, no cell signal. This is bad. Where am I? How do I get out? What do I do once I’m out?" He glanced around—nothing but trees, not a hint of human presence.

The light was fading; would he really have to spend the night here? Shaking his head, Chen Fan refused to just sit and await his fate. He looked up, intending to use the North Star to navigate.

But the city was shrouded in clouds; not a single star was visible, only a pale crescent moon. Chen Fan gave a hollow laugh.

He couldn’t bring himself to laugh for real, nor did he dare call for help in case his pursuers were still nearby.

"I’m the White Wolf King, right? Can’t I get a built-in GPS or something?" He stared at his hands, but nothing happened.

A gentle night breeze brushed past his ears, and Chen Fan’s sharp senses picked up a faint rustling.

Footsteps—steady, like someone strolling, and a crisp thud, as if something had been tossed into a trash can.

Not those two, he thought. The sound was at ten o’clock. Determined, Chen Fan darted in that direction.

"Finally back on the main road—scared me half to death," he muttered, emerging from the woods atop a small slope, with familiar concrete stretching below.

There weren’t many people about, so he didn’t worry about startling anyone—he slid down the slope and was back on track.

"Good thing there were only two of them. If they’d called the whole crew from Old Street, I’d be in real trouble. No way I’d skip class, though. Best to keep a low profile for the rest of the month—no going out."

He brushed leaves and twigs off his clothes and scraped the mud from his shoes, getting ready to sneak back to campus.

Chen Fan checked the sign—he was about a kilometer from the nearest campus gate. To be safe, he decided to go back the way he came.

"What’s that saying? The most dangerous place is the safest. Those thugs will expect me at the nearest gate, but if I take the old route, they’ll never think of it." Feeling clever, Chen Fan mapped out his route and jogged on.

...

"Hide well! If he sees us from a distance, he’ll just run again—he’s quick on his feet. Your big brother and I chased him nine blocks and couldn’t catch up. This time, we’re not letting him go until we’ve crippled him enough for the Paralympics."

Brother Qiang lit a cigarette and tucked a pipe behind his back. He was shorter than the others, always half a head below them even when standing tall. In this business, it was sheer toughness that had made him second-in-command.

"Yes, Brother Qiang. That kid’s not getting away. He’s wearing white on top and black on the bottom, and got a mouth just begging for a beating, right?" Liu Dong clutched a long stick, looking like an old-time palace guard.

Shorty Qiang sighed, leaping up to rap Liu Dong on the head. "Get it right! It’s black on top, white on the bottom. Is your head too big for the oxygen to reach your brain?"

"Brother Qiang, you’re right—it’s black on top, white on the bottom. I understand." Liu Dong bowed, correcting himself.

"You’ll stick with me. When I spot him, I’ll call you up to tie him down," Shorty Qiang said, turning away.

"Alright, I’ll follow your lead."

Chen Fan slipped back near the West Gate. The barbecue stall where the trouble began was still open, but the crowd had long since dispersed. Ever cautious, Chen Fan checked the area—no sign of his pursuers.

"There’s so many people here—they wouldn’t dare try anything." He was confident. He could outrun them easily; as long as he dashed for the gate, the security post marked safety.

"Damn you, Wei Youlong—look at the mess you’ve got me into. If I hadn’t stuck my nose into your business, none of this would have happened. Now I’m running for my life…"

Recalling how it all started, he looked at his empty hands and slapped his forehead. "Where’s my package? I still had it when I called the police. Must have dropped it while running. Did I leave it on the road?"

He didn’t dare go back for it. A few dozen bucks for a bed curtain was nothing compared to his own life.

"I’ll just make Wei Youlong pay me back. With the White Wolf King on my side today, I’ll teach that brat a lesson." Rolling up his sleeves, Chen Fan strode purposefully toward the West Gate.

A row of vans was parked along the road, their roofs empty. Chen Fan paid them no mind, his thoughts set on settling scores with Wei Youlong.

Suddenly, the vans' headlights blazed to life, dazzling him with high beams. Their engines roared as they rolled up to block his path.

The glare forced Chen Fan to squint, and he cursed aloud, "What’s wrong with you drivers? No wonder you can’t get any girls—you’ve got no class, driving junk like this and flashing your high beams at people!"

Abruptly, the lights snapped off. The nearest van’s window rolled down, and a burnt-out cigarette butt was flicked onto the pavement. Chen Fan could just make out a pair of faux-leather shoes propped up on the steering wheel, but the driver’s face was hidden.

"You bastard, finally caught you, you damned wretch."