The Hunt

The three of them craned their necks, staring up at Cao Tianbao, impaled mid-air by the steel rebar.

The thick fog swirled, obscuring the view at the thirteenth or fourteenth floor. From below, they could only make out a vague, dark silhouette, like a figure stuffed inside a woven bag.

The rebar pierced straight through the center of the shadow.

The person inside was silent—no cries for help, no signs of struggle.

Wu Ximei was the first to react, screaming as she tried to climb up. Tong Hao quickly grabbed her, but she was hysterical, thrashing with inhuman strength, nearly breaking free.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Hold on, backup will be here soon—"

"Let go! I have to save him! Let go!"

"Brother Meng, I can't hold her much longer—what do we do?"

Meng Chao pressed down on her shoulder. "If you want Tianbao to die, keep struggling. Keep wasting time."

Wu Ximei fell silent, tears streaming, her voice choked away.

"Boss, what the hell is this?" Tong Hao’s face paled as he swallowed hard. "Do we have to go up?"

"Something feels off."

Meng Chao scanned the surroundings, his gaze sweeping over every darkened window.

"Doesn’t it strike you as strange? If they wanted Cao Tianbao dead, they could’ve done it anytime, anywhere. Why go this far and make it so elaborate?

"Xu Qingli used to work construction—scaffolding, tying rebar. He knows this place better than we do. He chose this spot for a reason. We have to be careful. He’s probably hiding, waiting to ambush us.

"I don’t know what he’s planning, but I’m damn sure Xu Qingli has set a trap."

Meng Chao stared at the shadow suspended high above and sucked in a sharp breath.

"This whole thing is rigged—like bait waiting for someone to take it."

"Then we shouldn’t go," Tong Hao muttered, stealing a glance at him. "Or at least wait for backup—"

"No, we have to go." Meng Chao shook his head. "He’s positioned it perfectly. If we want to save Tianbao, someone has to go up."

Wu Ximei started struggling again. "Uncuff me, Captain, please. I’ll go. I’ll face hell itself—I’ll trade my life for his—"

"You can’t. You might not even be able to save Tianbao."

Meng Chao pointed upward.

"He’s stuck between two floors. We can’t reach him from the windows—we’d have to climb the scaffolding and pull him up mid-air. You don’t have the upper-body strength for that. You’d just get yourself killed too. Let me think of another way—"

"But there’s no time," Wu Ximei begged softly. "Captain Meng, we’re running out of time. It’s almost been an hour. He said on the phone—after an hour, he’d act. We can’t wait any longer—"

"Fine. I’ll go." Tong Hao trembled as he started stripping off his jacket.

Meng Chao stopped him. "Stay down here and light the way for me. I’m going up."

"Boss, no—you’re older, your legs aren’t as quick, your reflexes—"

"Shut up." Meng Chao tightened his shoelaces and shrugged off his jacket. "We agreed before coming—follow orders, obey commands. You’re not about to screw that up, are you?"

He checked his pistol, pausing briefly before locking eyes with Tong Hao.

"Ever fired a gun?"

"Trained with one," Tong Hao gulped. "But never at a real person."Meng Chao nodded, pulled out his gun, chambered a round, and shoved it into his hand.

"If anything seems off later, shoot without hesitation."

Tong Hao took the gun—it was heavy. He froze for a few seconds before pushing it back with both hands.

"Boss, let me go up instead. This kind of physical work should be my job. You stay down here and oversee things—"

"Cut the crap. This isn’t the time for formalities."

Meng Chao stuffed the gun into his arms and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze.

"Weren’t you complaining about your eyelid twitching on the way here, saying it was bad luck? So I’ll go. You stay put down here and don’t cause me any trouble."

He took two steps forward, then suddenly stopped and turned back to look at him.

"Tong Hao, I’ll be restricted up there on the scaffolding, so I’m counting on you down here. Stay sharp—this isn’t the time to be scared."

"Yeah."

"If anything unexpected happens," he glanced at Wu Ximei, "be quick on your feet and keep your eyes open."

"Got it."

"And remember what I told you before we got here?"

"Don’t throw away the half-eaten jianbing yet, in case you get hungry tonight?"

"Not that—"

Meng Chao frowned with a bitter smile.

"I meant, if I go down, you step up."

"Meng-ge, quick, knock on wood—don’t say such unlucky things—"

"Do you remember or not?"

"I—"

"Look at me. This is an order. If anything happens to me, this is on you. Don’t panic. You’re a cop—you step up first."

Meng Chao stared at him, uncharacteristically serious. Tong Hao tightened his grip on the gun and nodded.

"Okay."

Meng Chao stepped into the building alone, his heart pounding as his footsteps echoed through the hollow hallway.

He clenched the flashlight, its limited beam lighting his path as he scanned his surroundings, wary of Xu Qingli ambushing him from the shadows.

The dark figure was suspended on a small crossbar of the scaffolding between the thirteenth and fourteenth floors. He’d have to climb out and scale a section to reach it.

Kneeling on the cold, rough concrete windowsill of the thirteenth floor, the wind whipped against his face, his hair flying wildly, his heart hammering. Below, two faint figures were barely visible, a thin beam of white light waving—Tong Hao signaling him with the flashlight.

Taking a deep breath, Meng Chao clenched the flashlight between his teeth, climbed out the window, and began scaling the exterior.

The construction site had been abandoned for a long time. The scaffolding’s foundation was loose and sinking, wobbling underfoot. The planks had been removed, leaving only the steel pipes to tread carefully.

Wind rushed up from below, his body suspended in midair. His palms quickly grew slick with sweat, making his grip slippery. He forced himself not to look down or think about the scaffolding collapsing, inching his way to the right, eyes fixed on the woven bag a few meters away.

The bloodstained red, white, and blue woven bag bulged, as if stuffed with a person. A sleeve peeked out from the half-open mouth of the bag—an orange puffer jacket.

Meng Chao recognized it. It was Cao Tianbao’s coat—the same one Wu Ximei had grabbed from the room the day they took him to the hospital.

He tucked the flashlight back into his pocket and called out softly to Tianbao.

No response.

Meng Chao quickened his pace. As he got closer, he stretched his right arm to reach for the bag. His hand touched it—cold, heavy, reeking of thick, metallic blood.

A sense of foreboding rose in his chest.

His right eyelid began twitching violently. Meng Chao ignored it.The woven bag was threaded through the crossbar. Gripping the steel pipe with one hand and clutching a corner of the bag with the other, he yanked with all his might.

The bag was heavier than he’d expected, but he finally managed to pull it free. His right arm trembled violently. Gritting his teeth, he tensed his muscles and began inching backward, dragging the woven bag with him. After a few steps, his left arm shook just as badly, nearly giving out. He paused midair, taking deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm.

Something felt off—but what?

Xu Qingli hadn’t shown up the entire time. Was climbing the scaffolding part of his trap?

No, it couldn’t be that simple. There was something else, something he hadn’t noticed yet—

Right now, Meng Chao couldn’t afford to think too much. With Cao Tianbao’s added weight, his strength was nearing its limit.

First, get down.

He tried to shift the bag onto the steel pipe beneath his feet to distribute some of the weight. But when he looked down, he realized the guardrails and the stabilizing cross braces had been removed. The pipe connectors were missing screws, and the steel pipe underfoot wobbled, tilting—clearly unable to support the weight of two people.

Meng Chao froze, suddenly understanding Xu Qingli’s scheme.

He was forcing him to choose—either die together or drop Cao Tianbao and save himself.

So, what would he choose? Tianbao couldn’t climb back on his own, so the question was clear: Would he watch Cao Tianbao die, or die with him?

No. There had to be another way.

Meng Chao’s mind raced.

If Xu Qingli had managed to bring Cao Tianbao up here, there must be another path—one that could get them both out safely. He just had to find it—

But—

Down below, Tong Hao and Wu Ximei stood side by side, staring up as Meng Chao struggled in midair.

Wu Ximei’s eyes brimmed with tears, her hands clasped in prayer as she begged the heavens for mercy. Beside her, Tong Hao couldn’t stop shaking his leg, muttering under his breath.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Brother Meng’s a pro. He’ll be fine. He has to be.”

He repeated it like a mantra, unsure if he was comforting Wu Ximei or himself.

Xu Qingli never appeared, and Meng Chao had successfully rescued Cao Tianbao. Tong Hao’s heart finally settled.

He watched as Meng Chao clung to the scaffolding with one hand, dragging the bag with the other, inching his way back.

“See? He got him,” Tong Hao grinned. “He got him. I told you it’d be fine. Look—”

But the next second, Meng Chao’s footing gave way. His body tipped backward, plummeting from the heights like a bird.

For a moment, Tong Hao thought he saw him hover in midair.

For a split second, he even wondered if he could fly.

Then—falling, falling, falling.

A bird with broken wings, hurtling down at terrifying speed.

With a sickening thud , Meng Chao shattered before his eyes.