Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

"Gun?" Wang Yanqiu had forgotten all about that matter. Only at Yang Cenbin's reminder did she remember—her gun was still in Yang Juehuan's possession. Indeed, if she were just an ordinary person, how could she possibly have a gun in her hands?

"Think about how you're going to explain it," Yang Ce said, twisting his mouth into a smile. "Better find a fairly convincing reason—one that has me utterly convinced the moment I hear it."

To be continued

952. The Life of a Certain Young Miss Wang

"'Utterly convinced the moment I hear it,'" Wang Yanqiu thought. "Even if I spun the most elaborate story, you'd still insist on not believing it. So why should I bother explaining?" At that thought, her stubborn streak rose again. "Fine, I won't explain. What are you going to do about it?"

Yang Ce had not expected this girl to start playing the rogue. It really was a headache—and yet he was utterly helpless. He could only sigh in resignation. "All right. I can't do anything about it."

Seeing Yang Ce's helpless look, Wang Yanqiu could not hold back a "pfft" of laughter. So that was how easy it was to "handle" Yang Juehuan! And to think she had worn herself out fighting him before for nothing.

True enough, Yang Ce had become indulgent toward Wang Yanqiu—but that was also because of what had passed between them. It was why Yang Ce was so tender toward her, and why he was completely at a loss against her wilfulness.

"Then you tell me how you knew that was a handgun, and why your fighting skills are so good, and I'll tell you my identity," Wang Yanqiu proposed, laying out her terms.

By now she was not so afraid of Yang Shuoxuan anymore. Wang Yanqiu had discovered that she did not need to glare at Yang Ce at all—she only had to be a little gentle, a little coy, and Yang Ce was completely helpless before her.

"Because I've seen an identical handgun before, so I knew it was one," Yang Ce answered. And that was in fact the truth; Yang Ce was not lying.

"I don't believe you!" Yet Wang Yanqiu refused to believe it.

"Then what will it take to make you believe me?" Yang Hengye said. "I really am not lying this time. Everything I've said is true."

"Then show me the evidence," Wang Yanqiu said.

"Evidence, huh," Yang Ce said, pretending to ponder. Wang Yanqiu thought he had run out of excuses and was secretly pleased—then she saw Yang Ce fish something out of his pocket and toss it to her. "Does this count as evidence?"

"Ah?" Wang Yanqiu caught what Yang Ce had thrown her and was instantly dumbstruck. It was a lipstick-shaped handgun, identical to her own.

"You—how do you have one too?" Wang Yanqiu asked, blurting it out in astonishment.

"You gave it to me," Yang Hengye said.

"I gave it to you?" Wang Yanqiu fiddled with the lipstick gun Yang Ce had given her, baffled, then suddenly cried out in alarm, "This is mine! How did it end up in your hands?"

This lipstick handgun had been with Wang Yanqiu for a long time, and naturally bore certain marks that only she knew. Last time in Macau, that Liu Lei had taken it. After returning to Songjiang, Wang Yanqiu had been able to do nothing but commission an identical one. Yet now, she recognized her original one at a glance.

"All right, stop being shocked. I saved your life in Macau, so you offering yourself to me in return isn't exactly a loss. If not for me, you'd have been dead long ago," Yang Ce said flatly.

"Macau? You—" Wang Yanqiu's expression froze instantly. She stared at Yang Ce in disbelief, and as she recalled the events in Macau, she fell into deep thought. That person she had met in Macau—wait. No wonder she had found his voice a little familiar when they talked yesterday, and his build a little familiar too. So it was—at that thought, Wang Yanqiu cried out in shock, "You're that Liu Lei?"

"Little Yanyan, you've finally recognized me. Seems saving you wasn't in vain after all." Yang Ce chuckled, grinning, and admitted it.

"Yang Ce!" Wang Yanqiu was so furious she leaped up from her seat and made to grab Yang Juehuan by the throat. "You bastard! How dare you lie to me! You knew perfectly well I'm no match for you, and still you challenged me to a fight! Do you take me, Wang Yanqiu, for a fool—someone easy to push around?"

"Cut it out, I'm driving!" Yang Ce pushed away the Wang Yanqiu who was clinging to him and laughed. "I didn't lie to you. This is my secret. If I hadn't slept with you, do you think I'd have told you?"

"You're driving me insane!" Wang Yanqiu was beside herself with rage and sat there sulking. "Then since you already knew my identity, why did you even ask me? You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

"I wanted to see whether you felt any love for me. A tumble without love is a pretty pointless affair." Yang Ce began to spin a pack of nonsense.

"Love my foot," Wang Yanqiu snapped. "You really are that Liu Lei? But you don't look anything like him."

"Haven't you ever heard of disguise techniques?" Yang Yanzhou said. "I was there on business at the time. I couldn't afford to expose my identity."

Wang Yanqiu nodded. For people in their line of work, a bit of makeup now and then was perfectly normal, though she had to admit Yang Juehuan's disguise had been a remarkable success. She had not doubted its authenticity for a moment.

"So you're an assassin too." Wang Yanqiu no longer bothered to be circumspect. What the two of them had done in Macau was clear to both of them; there was no need for concealment.

Yet it suddenly occurred to Wang Yanqiu that Yang Ce was not quite so loathsome as before. Assassins had changeable temperaments, after all, and that lecherous Yang Ce she had first seen might not have been his true self.

"I might be, and I might not be." Yang Ce neither confirmed nor denied it. His words were deliberately ambiguous, and yet Wang Yanqiu could find no flaw in them.

After all, Yang Ce had said in Macau that he belonged to no organization—he was the lone-wolf type.

"In other words, you haven't joined any organization yet." Seeing how skilled Yang Ce was, Wang Yanqiu suddenly felt an urge to recruit him. If Yang Ce were at her side on missions, the success rate would surely be very high.

Wang Yanqiu had seen Yang Juehuan's skills for herself, and within her own organization, the most capable was probably herself.

"I've answered quite a few of your questions. Time for me to ask you some, wouldn't you say?" Yang Cenbin did not answer Wang Yanqiu's question but countered instead. "That's only fair, isn't it?"

"You've already had me—can't you at least give me a little leeway?" Now that she knew Yang Juehuan's "true" identity, Wang Yanqiu actually felt much more at ease. Yang Ce was, unexpectedly, a kindred spirit.

In that case, there was no loss in being his lover. Perhaps, with the two of them working together, her assassination squad would grow steadily stronger—who knew, it might even become the best in the world. And when that day came, perhaps her father would change his mind.

Wang Yanqiu had founded that assassination organization precisely to make it strong and great, to make it the best in the world, so that her father would see—and then he would no longer demand that she marry a man she had never met.

But as time went on, Wang Yanqiu had come to realize just how arduous it was to build an assassination squad into something formidable. For all her efforts, they could not even match the second-rate assassin organizations of the world.

There was no other reason: the overall strength simply was not there. Within the entire organization, she herself was the most capable, and she could not last a single exchange against Yang Ce. Never mind first in the world—they would be hard-pressed even to rank in the top hundred.