Transmigrating Into a Book, the Villain Becomes the White Moonlight!

122: Chapter 122 Rules of ConductShe paused, her gaze sharpening once more, turning resolute and firm, as if donning her armor anew:

”You can think it over.”

Having said that, she didn’t wait for Su Bai’s reply. She abruptly turned on her heel, straightened her slender yet exceptionally resilient back, and strode briskly towards the direction opposite the dormitory building, soon melting into the night.

...

”Brother-in-law, did you get a clear look? The one at the school gate, is he the guy from the photo?”

Inside a grimy, old van whose original color was long lost, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a somewhat shifty gaze sat in the passenger seat. Squinting hard, he stared towards the school gate, clutching a crumpled, half-burnt piece of paper in his hand, on which a faint, blurry outline of a young man could be seen.

In the driver’s seat was a man with a gleaming bald head and a fierce countenance, an unlit cheap cigarette dangling from his lips. Hearing the question, he also focused his gaze. After a few seconds, he nodded firmly, his voice rough and grating: ”Yeah, that’s him. No mistake about it. His aura... hmm, it’s similar to the one in the photo.”

”But I think... he doesn’t look much alike?” the Bald Man scratched his sparse remaining hair, a puzzled expression on his face. ”The guy in the photo looked pretty honest. This young man... has such delicate skin. Brother-in-law, if only we hadn’t burned that photo back then, we could’ve compared them.”

”Idiot!” the Bald-headed Man spat, the cigarette butt trembling at the corner of his mouth. ”What do we do? Professional assassins! Get it? After a job, all traces that could expose our identity or the target must be destroyed! Of course, the photo had to be burned! How else would we show we’re professionals? That’s the professional code!”

”Professional code, professional code...” the Bald Man muttered, clearly not buying this ”professional” explanation but not daring to argue. He suddenly pointed out the window, lowering his voice with a touch of provincial astonishment: ”Brother-in-law! He’s getting in a car! Look at that car... it’s so black it gleams, must be crazy expensive, right? What brand is it?”

The Bald-headed Man followed his finger and saw the target person get into a sleek, jet-black luxury sedan that emitted a low-key, cold sheen under the streetlights. He squinted, studying it for a few seconds, relying on his limited knowledge of cars,

which primarily came from auto shows in urban-rural fringe areas and pirated car magazines.

He smacked his lips and offered what he considered a fairly accurate estimate: ”Hmm... judging by its size and paint job, probably... over a hundred thousand? At most.”

”Over a hundred thousand?!” The Bald Man’s eyes widened into saucers, his voice rising an octave as he nearly jumped out of his seat. ”My goodness! Over a hundred thousand! That could buy a good tractor back in our village, plus a full set of plows and a seeder! City folks really... really burn money!”

”Shut up! What’s all the fuss about!” the Bald-headed Man snapped impatiently, simultaneously skillfully shifting gears and releasing the handbrake. ”Enough useless chatter! Follow them! Don’t lose them!”

The grimy van let out a dull roar, its exhaust pipe spewing a puff of black smoke as it lurched into motion, tailing the black luxury car at a not-too-close, not-too-far distance.

---

School gate.

Su Bai pulled open the car door and settled into the spacious, comfortable back seat. The interior was filled with a faint scent of leather and a reassuring sense of tranquility.

”Young Master, straight home?” Uncle Fu’s steady voice came from the driver’s seat.

”No, first make a stop at the Nangong Family,” Su Bai rubbed his temples.

Some matters needed to be struck while the iron was hot, and some people needed... one final ”warning.”

”Understood, Young Master,” Uncle Fu replied. The car started smoothly, merging into the nighttime traffic. However, after only a moment, Uncle Fu’s voice sounded again, carrying a trace of barely perceptible vigilance: ”Young Master, behind us... there’s a car. It seems to have been watching us.”

”Hmm?” Su Bai opened his eyes from his light rest.

”A silver-gray van, very old model, with out-of-town plates,” Uncle Fu reported calmly, his eyes scanning the rearview mirror. ”It was parked across the street corner from the moment you left the school and got in the car. As soon as we moved, it followed. The tailing... isn’t very professional, but the intent is obvious.”

Hearing this, Su Bai turned slightly, looking through the rear window. Sure enough, amidst the traffic, a dusty, somewhat dilapidated-looking van was following at a leisurely pace, about three or four car lengths behind.

The afternoon city lights glanced off its grimy windows, making the figures inside indistinct, but its following trajectory indeed exuded a clumsy yet persistent sense of ”surveillance.”

Su Bai’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

Just finished dealing with Ji Bochang and Chu Ci, who is this now?

”Following this closely... what do they want?” Su Bai muttered softly, watching the determined yet clumsy van in the rearview mirror. Lingering retaliation from Ji Bochang? Didn’t seem like it, too amateurish. Sent by the Nangong Family? Seemed unnecessary to use such an easily detectable tail. After a brief consideration, he said to Uncle Fu, ”Change routes. Find a secluded, deserted spot.”

”Understood,” Uncle Fu responded without further questions. The steering wheel seemed to come alive in his hands. With a few deft turns, the car left the main road and turned onto a relatively quiet side street leading to an old industrial district. The road narrowed, streetlights became sparse, flanked by walls overgrown with weeds and abandoned factories, appearing somewhat eerie in the night.

The grimy van indeed followed, its engine straining with a laborious roar as it jolted along the potholed road.

Uncle Fu slowly brought the car to a stop in the middle of a completely unlit, desolate stretch of abandoned road and turned off the engine. Su Bai and Uncle Fu exchanged a glance, then wordlessly pushed open their doors, got out, and stood in front of the car’s hood, waiting quietly.

”They’ve stopped, Brother-in-law! They’ve stopped!” Inside the van, the Bald Man nervously tightened his grip on the wooden club in his hand, pointing at the black car parked silently ahead.

A fierce glint flashed in the Bald-headed Man’s eyes. He yanked the steering wheel sharply. The old van emitted a screeching friction sound as it executed a not-so-graceful skid, coming to a halt sideways a few meters in front of the black sedan, blocking its path.

”When the road to heaven is open, you don’t take it; with no gate to hell, you insist on barging in!” the Bald-headed Man growled, quoting a line from some old movie, his tone menacing as he psyched himself up. He and the Bald Man quickly fished out two crumpled black ski masks (apparently modified from old socks) from under their seats, hastily pulling them over their heads, leaving only their eyes and mouths exposed. Then, each grabbing a piece of rebar of uneven length that looked scavenged from a construction site, they pushed open the doors and jumped out.

Su Bai leaned leisurely against the hood of his car, arms crossed, watching these two ”fully armed” yet exuding an air of bluster over substance ”bandits” with keen interest. Uncle Fu, meanwhile, silently took half a step forward, positioning himself slightly ahead and to the side of Su Bai, his body sinking slightly into a standard defensive stance.

The next two minutes could be described as a... one-sided ”instructional match.”

The Bald-headed Man swung his steel rod, letting out a strange cry of ’Ha!’ as he charged towards Fu Bo. His movements were wild and exaggerated, full of openings. Fu Bo sidestepped, reached out with a hand, grabbed, and twisted. The Bald-headed Man felt a sharp pain in his wrist. The steel rod clattered to the ground with a ’clang,’ and his entire body was spun around in a circle by a clever force. He took a solid palm strike to his back, grunted, and pitched forward, falling flat on his face.

Seeing this, the Bald Man was so scared he cried out ’Mommy!’ and nearly dropped the stick in his hand. But he still charged forward with his eyes squeezed shut. Fu Bo barely even moved. He simply raised a foot and kicked it precisely into the side of the man’s knee. The Bald Man yelped ’Aiyo!’ His leg gave way, and he directly knelt on the ground, the stick flying out of his grasp.

A fight.

If this could even be called a fight.

It began in the blink of an eye and ended in the space of a breath. The two ’ferocious bandits’ were now one lying prone, one kneeling, groaning and whimpering in a sorry state. Their black hoods were askew, adding an extra touch of absurdity.

Su Bai walked forward, looking down at the Bald-headed Man who was still struggling on the ground, trying to maintain his ’tough guy’ image. He asked in a flat tone, ’Alright, talk. What’s going on? Who sent you?’

The Bald-headed Man panted heavily, trying to lift his head, but the hood covering his eyes made it difficult. He said in a muffled voice, ’Hmph! Today... today we admit defeat! If you want to do something, just do it! No need for talk! In our line of work, there are rules!’

’Brother-in-law, brother-in-law... I think my leg’s broken...’ the Bald Man beside him wailed.

’Don’t shout! It’s professional etiquette! Don’t you get it?’ the Bald-headed Man tried to maintain his professional image, scolding in a low voice.

’Why so many rules!’ the Bald Man complained through gritted teeth, unable to bear the pain.

After hearing this exchange, Su Bai almost laughed out loud. These weren’t professional killers at all. They were clearly a pair of hotheads who were desperate for money, had watched a few gangster movies, and dared to ’take on a job.’ Or rather... a pair of clowns.

He bent down, reached out, and yanked the hood off the Bald-headed Man’s head. What was revealed was a face roughly in his forties, with rough skin and slightly prominent brow bones that made him look fierce at first glance. But a closer look showed a gaze filled with simple-minded honesty and panic. He didn’t look like a vicious criminal, more like an ordinary laborer worn down by life.

’Who sent you?’ Su Bai asked again, his tone slightly gentler.

The Bald-headed Man stiffened his neck, his eyes darting around, his mouth tightly shut, putting on an ’I’d rather die than talk’ act.

Su Bai wasn’t in a hurry. He turned and walked over to the still-groaning Bald Man, also pulling off his hood. The revealed face was five or six parts similar to the Bald-headed Man’s, just more timid and panicked. Su Bai looked at the two of them and smiled. ’You two look quite alike. Relatives?’

’Cut the nonsense!’ the Bald-headed Man interjected again, trying to seize the initiative. ’Do what you will, kill us or cut us to pieces! Since my brother and I took this job, we were prepared!’

Looking at his blustering, forcibly tough act, Su Bai felt both annoyed and amused. Dealing with this kind of stubborn, simple-minded brute, bound by so-called ’professional etiquette’ and self-imagined ’jianghu loyalty,’ using force or threats might not be effective. They might really hold their breath and refuse to talk.

His mind shifted, and he changed his approach. In a casual, conversational tone, he asked, ’Alright then, I won’t make things hard for you. For this ’job’ of yours, how much did the other side pay? This... doesn’t break your ’professional etiquette,’ right? Let’s just... discuss the market rate?’

He deliberately used that term, catering to their laughable ’professional’ self-perception.

To deal with different people, you need different methods. When dealing with these half-baked ’jianghu’ types, sometimes taking a roundabout approach can open a crack.

The Bald-headed Man hesitated, his eyes darting between Su Bai’s calm face and the expressionless yet overwhelmingly imposing Fu Bo beside him. Finally, he mumbled out a number, ’Five hundred thousand.’

’Five hundred thousand?’ Su Bai’s reaction was not what the Bald-headed Man expected—not anger, not scorn, but genuine, undisguised astonishment. He looked the Bald-headed Man up and down as if he’d heard some unbelievably low price.

’What? Think it’s too little?’ The Bald-headed Man was confused by his reaction. He instinctively puffed out his chest, trying to maintain his imposing manner. ’I didn’t know your life was so valuable... no wonder, with such a fierce old man hidden as your bodyguard...’ He muttered, seemingly attributing this to an ’unfair deal’ caused by faulty intel.

However, the source of Su Bai’s astonishment was on a completely different wavelength from what the Bald-headed Man thought.

His life... was only worth five hundred thousand?

Was this fucking a joke, or were they looking down on his status as the Young Master of the Su Family?

That Shen He paid three hundred thousand just to have someone beat up Fatty for Ji Bochang. Now, these two guys were here on a ’big job’ targeting his very life, and they were only offered five hundred thousand? This price was practically an insult to his ’worth’! Either the employer was desperate for money, or... they had no clue about the target’s importance and just hired two cheap thugs to try their luck.

Su Bai was so angry he laughed. He bent down, looked into the Bald-headed Man’s eyes, which were filled with ’professional stubbornness’ but couldn’t hide his fear, and spoke slowly, ’Then... what if I gave you one million?’

He extended an index finger and wiggled it in front of the Bald-headed Man.

’One million?’ Before the Bald-headed Man could react, the Bald Man beside him cried out, his voice distorted by excitement and pain. ’Brother-in-law! O-one million!’

The Bald-headed Man was also stunned, clearly dizzied by this doubled figure. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a fierce struggle flashed in his eyes. One million—for people like them, struggling at the bottom and occasionally looking to ’crooked paths’ for a quick fortune—was undoubtedly an astronomical sum, enough to shake any fragile ’professional etiquette.’

’I’ll give you one million,’ Su Bai’s voice was seductively steady, ’to buy the information from you. Who was it, through what channel, how did they find you? That’s a fair trade, right? Anyway, this ’job’ of yours is already busted. You won’t get the five hundred thousand. Tell me, and you’ll net a clean million. And...’ He paused, adding the most tempting point, ’I guarantee I won’t come after you later. Take the money, go wherever you want, pretend this never happened.’

The Bald-headed Man’s breathing noticeably grew heavier, the muscles on his face twitching uncontrollably. One million, no repercussions... For them, already failed and possibly facing retaliation, these terms were like a pie falling from the sky.

’Brother-in-law...’ the Bald Man looked on eagerly, his leg seemingly not hurting as much anymore.

An intense battle raged inside the Bald-headed Man. On one side: the vague, now seemingly laughable ’professional etiquette’ and the possible ’reputation on the street.’ On the other: the tangible, within-reach promise of one million in cash and safety.

Finally, the desire for money and the intimidation of this clearly formidable young man overwhelmed his pitiful ’professional integrity.’ The Bald-headed Man slumped his head in defeat, his voice dropping, tinged with a sense of resignation. ’...I’ll talk, I’ll talk. But you have to keep your word.’