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Chapter 17: 009 monopolizes the moonlight, Backter Street_3

No one would doubt its authenticity, after all, it’s the largest auction house in Asia, and nobody dares to cause trouble at an auction on Backter Street.

“Find a way to get an invitation to the auction,” Ren Qian said.

**

The next day.

Bai Lian didn’t linger in the library because Jiang Fulai had someone send her the multitester.

She planned to go home and show her grandfather what “bad timing” really meant.

Bus 12 came to a stop on Purest Street, and when Bai Lian got off with her black backpack, she saw a crowd gathered around the convenience store from a distance.

As Bai Lian approached, the onlookers outside in white tank tops trembled with excitement.

With a “clatter,” a cigarette fell to the ground.

“Officer Zhang, ask them if I’ve broken any law?” the middle-aged man in black attire said casually, exhaling a ring of smoke while point at a vendor selling chilled mung bean jelly, “Dare you say I’ve transgressed?”

The vendor, in fear, shook his head as he picked up his knocked-over stall, “No, no! I knocked it over myself!”

“Oh, is that so?” the middle-aged man took two more steps forward, pointing at someone selling hand-carved items.

The person sat on the ground, frantically waving their hands in negation.

He stepped on an embroidered shoe and finally stopped in front of Ji Heng, “How about you? Do you dare?”

Ji Heng looked at the stall on the ground and shook his head.

“See,” the middle-aged man then leisurely turned to Officer Zhang, his voice arrogant, “I told you I haven’t done anything, Officer Zhang, you wouldn’t arrest a good person, would you?”

“You…” Officer Zhang was about to take action, but was firmly restrained by a colleague, “Forget it, Officer Zhang!”

The colleague whispered in Officer Zhang’s ear, “He must be Poison Scorpion…”

Officer Zhang calmed down.

Poison Scorpion.

One of the top ten on their internal most-wanted list, he frequently moves between Backter Street and the international scene, many of his men are ex-mercenaries, protected by a bar on Backter Street, and even the FBI is said to be unable to touch him.

His power was immense.

Poison Scorpion had long anticipated this scenario.

He looked at Officer Zhang with disdain, carelessly dropping his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it, “It seems, Officer Zhang, if you desire to catch me, you’ll have to find another way.”

No one present dared to speak.

Poison Scorpion then arrogantly left the convenience store with all the cigarettes and casually left Purest Street.

Only after he had left did Officer Zhang silently help the vendors straighten their stalls, whispering an apology to them.

The people from the bar on Backter Street, at the junction between two nations, those people—

Without evidence, Officer Zhang truly had no recourse.

Even if the Chen Family of Xiangcheng was present today, they too would suffer silently.

Bai Lian stood not far away, watching the scene with an unperturbed gaze.

The man in the white tank top, feeling the chill of her gaze on his back, shivered and quickly set about helping the vendors pick up their goods.

Clearly, he was also one of the formidable “convention people,” and seeing him lending a hand, Officer Zhang gave him a glance, his gaze then shifting to the store owner not far away.

As the crowd slowly dispersed, such incidents were not uncommon on Purest Street.

“Alian?” Ji Heng, having tidied up his belongings, saw Bai Lian standing at the street corner.

The neighbors liked the trinkets made by Ji Heng, who would set up his stall every few days. Bai Lian usually studied late in the library, so this was the first time she saw him vending.

“Hmm,” Bai Lian answered calmly, taking Ji Heng’s items from his hand.

“It’s alright, Grandfather’s used to it,” Ji Heng spoke more today than usual, holding a tobacco pipe, “These things don’t happen often. He’s from the opposite side and doesn’t come here often. You should be more careful when you go out, it’s better for ordinary folks like us to avoid provoking them if we can.”

He comforted Bai Lian.

Bai Lian hummed in agreement once more, but the chill in her pitch-black eyes grew colder.

Ji Heng was at ease with her.

Eleven o’clock at night.

The lights in Ji Heng’s room went out, and in Bai Lian’s room, she tightened the last screw on the electric fan.

Then, taking her mobile phone, she quietly closed her room door behind her and left.

Crossing the bridge at the end of Purest Street, a street stretched out in front of her, resplendent with golden light. Although it was ten o’clock at night, it was as bright as day. The entrance bore the name in two languages—

Backter Street.

The man in the white tank top had been waiting here. He looked up to see the girl in the flowing moon-white dress, so out of place in this street.

“Sis,” the man in the white tank top approached, handing Bai Lian a cigarette and lighting it for her.

With a slender cigarette grasped between her fingers, Bai Lian appeared utterly nonchalant. As the flame sparked and smoke began to curl up, she lazily tilted her head, “Where is he?”