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

132: Chapter 132 The Dragon King has been kidnapped!The mischief in Lin Wan’s eyes was almost impossible to hide.

Su Bai took the paring knife and the cucumber, weighing them in his hand. He felt as if he were suffering some sort of dimensional strike, but seeing Lin Wan’s smiling eyes, he resigned himself to fate and walked to the other side of the kitchen counter.

Mimicking his mother’s actions from memory, he clumsily held down the cucumber and cautiously made the first cut—resulting in a slice of cucumber so thick it could be munched on like a biscuit.

On Lin Wan’s side, a rhythmic ”thud-thud” sound had already started, and the carrots quickly turned into neat, thin shreds under her knife.

She took a moment to glance over at Su Bai’s side. Seeing his comical expression as he frowned at that ”cucumber biscuit,” she finally couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, her shoulders trembling slightly.

”What are you laughing at?” Su Bai said, a bit embarrassed and annoyed. ”It’s my first time, after all. There’s a learning process.”

He bit the bullet and continued cutting. The second slice was indeed a bit thinner, but the third one went crooked again.

After finishing the vegetables in her hands, Lin Wan wiped her hands and walked over, standing by his side.

She didn’t take over, but simply leaned in slightly and pointed to the hand he was holding the knife with. ”Don’t be too stiff with your wrist. Press your finger joints against the side of the blade and take it slow.”

A faint fragrance wafted over as she drew near. It wasn’t perfume, but more like a warm scent unique to her, something he had smelled before when they were deskmates.

Su Bai’s body paused almost imperceptibly. He adjusted his posture as instructed, and when he made the next cut, that slice of cucumber was indeed much more presentable.

”Not bad, you’re salvageable,” Lin Wan commented, her tone carrying a hint of softness.

She didn’t leave immediately, but stood there watching him continue to tackle that cucumber with clumsy but extraordinary seriousness.

Only the rhythmic sound of chopping and the faint sound of boiling water in the pot remained in the kitchen. A cozy layer of condensation covered the window glass, sealing off the night outside.

Lin Wan’s soft chuckle scratched through the air like a feather.

She had long expected Su Bai to be unfamiliar with this, but seeing this young master—who was usually nonchalant about everything—treating a cucumber as if it were a formidable enemy and cutting it with such a serious face, the amusement from that contrast still made her unable to hold back. Her clear, bell-like laughter spilled out.

”Isn’t everything learned slowly from the beginning?” Su Bai stared at the slice of cucumber under his hand that could finally, barely be called a ”slice,” and retorted stubbornly, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left.

”Does Mu Xue know how to cook?” Lin Wan suddenly spoke, her tone sounding as natural as if she were casually asking about today’s weather.

Her hands were briskly placing the drained greens into a prepared basket.

”I don’t know,” Su Bai blurted out almost reflexively. Only after saying it did he realize something was off, and he abruptly looked up at Lin Wan.

What did this mean? Why did it feel like... the conversation had suddenly veered into a misty path, with a faint, competitive scent of gunpowder floating in the air?

A small alarm bell went off in his heart.

Lin Wan, however, seemed completely unaware of his sudden alertness. She just nodded calmly, her gaze still on the ingredients in her hands, and said softly in a matter-of-fact tone, ”Oh, so that means you haven’t eaten her cooking yet.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she had already neatly organized the last of the vegetables. Then she turned around, placed her hands gently on Su Bai’s shoulders, and pushed him toward the kitchen door without allowing any argument.

”Alright, Young Master Su’s ’kitchen assistant experience’ ends here. The oil fumes are about to start; don’t let them get on you. Go wait outside; dinner will be ready soon.”

”Eh? No, my cucumber hasn’t even...” Su Bai’s words were cut short as he was ”escorted” out of the kitchen doorway.

”I’ll do the rest. As for the ones you cut... keep them as after-dinner fruit.”

Lin Wan’s voice came through the closing gap of the door, carrying an imperceptible hint of laughter. Then, with a soft ”click,” the kitchen door was closed from the inside by her.

Cut off from the view outside, Lin Wan leaned her back against the smooth kitchen door panel and didn’t immediately return to the stove.

She tilted her head back slightly, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then slowly exhaled. The next second, a bright smile she could no longer suppress suddenly blossomed on her elegant face, like moonlight breaking through the clouds.

That smile contained a bit of the slyness of a successful little scheme, a sense of relief after confirming something, and the pure joy of a girl her age gaining the upper hand in a secret matter of the heart.

She raised her hand and gently touched her slightly burning earlobe before turning back toward the counter. Her steps were much lighter than before.

Meanwhile, Su Bai, shut out of the room, blinked at the closed kitchen door, still holding the paring knife he hadn’t had time to put down.

He looked down at the bit of bright green cucumber juice on the blade, then looked up at the door that had ”denied him entry.” Lin Wan’s last two sentences and her decisive closing of the door replayed in his mind.

”What was that all about...” he muttered under his breath, turning back to the living room and placing the paring knife on the coffee table.

From the kitchen, the faint ”sizzle” of hot oil hitting the pan drifted out, and the fragrance began to permeate the air in wisps.

...

At the same time.

In that thrilling ambush at the port, Brother Bufan had exhausted almost all his strength and years of combat experience. With several new wounds on his body, he had narrowly torn an opening. Using the cover of night and the complex terrain, he had escaped that container area, which had been like an inescapable net, in a wretched state.

He didn’t dare to stop. Holding his breath, he sprinted toward the Nangong Family villa.

The throbbing pain in his internal organs and the dizziness from blood loss kept hitting him. There was still a faint sense of being followed behind him, keeping his nerves strained to the limit.

Seeing the familiar silhouette of the Nangong Family’s wrought-iron gate faintly visible under the dim streetlights, and knowing he would have a moment to breathe in just a few dozen more meters, Brother Bufan relaxed slightly, but he didn’t dare slow his pace.

Just then, a sudden change occurred!

From the shadows of the roadside greenery, two figures lunged out without warning. Their coordination was rough and bore a sense of uncouth arrogance.

A heavy burlap sack, smelling of aged grain, was dropped over his head with pinpoint accuracy!

Brother Bufan was already exhausted and uneasy. Facing a sudden attack, he only had time to tilt his head to avoid a vital spot before the sack covered most of his body.

”Fuck!” he cursed angrily, his internal energy instinctively surging as he tried to break free from the restraint.

However, at almost the same instant, he heard a very faint sound of wind above his head, like a brick leaving someone’s hand.

He thought, ”Oh no,” and tried to tuck his neck to dodge, but the sack restricted his senses and movements.

There was a dull ”thud.” It wasn’t the cracking sound of a brick hitting a skull, but more like it had hit something thick and soft.

Brother Bufan felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. Stars danced before his eyes, and his consciousness, which he had been struggling to maintain like a candle in the wind, was instantly extinguished. His body went limp, and he lost consciousness completely.

A bald, fierce-looking middle-aged man stepped out from behind Brother Bufan, weighed the remaining half of the red brick in his hand, and grinned.

The other Bald-headed Man quickly pulled back the sack, which looked bulging as if it were padded with thick cloth or cotton—it was this padding that had buffered most of the force, ensuring he was only knocked out and not killed.

”Brother-in-law, this time... we didn’t get the wrong person, right? Let’s not have a repeat of last time.”

The Bald Man glanced at the unconscious Brother Bufan on the ground with some lingering fear. He bent down and hoisted the man onto his sturdy shoulder, the movement as practiced as carrying a sack of grain.

The Bald-headed Man carefully studied Brother Bufan’s profile, whose cold and hard lines were evident even in unconsciousness. He nodded with certainty and slapped the dust off his hands. ”Don’t worry, it’s definitely him this time. I looked at the photo dozens of times. This vibe, this outfit—it’s exactly like the profile. Last time... last time was an accident!”

He seemed to still be brooding over what happened last time.

Together, the two of them quickly stuffed the unconscious Brother Bufan into the back of a shabby silver van parked in the shadows by the road.

The Bald Man jumped into the driver’s seat while the Bald-headed Man sat in the passenger seat. After the engine let out a series of unpleasant, cough-like roars, the vehicle quickly sped away from the quiet road leading to the Nangong Family, merging into the city’s nighttime traffic.

Inside the car, while driving, the Bald Man couldn’t help but glance at the silent ”cargo” in the rearview mirror. He spoke in a muffled voice, his tone filled with confusion, ”Brother-in-law, don’t we have money now? That settlement money is enough for us to build a house and get wives back in our hometown. Why do we still have to take jobs like this? It’s so risky!”

He thought of that sharp aura Brother Bufan had earlier, which wouldn’t dissipate even while he was unconscious, and his heart pounded.

The Bald-headed Man lit a cheap cigarette and took a deep drag. Smoke filled the dim cabin.

He remained silent for a few seconds before slowly speaking, his voice somewhat low. ”That money... it was given to us by someone else. We got it in exchange for getting beaten up and being obedient. Can that really be called ’earning’ it? Holding it in our hands, can we sleep soundly?”

He blew a smoke ring, looking at the flickering taillights ahead with a complex gaze. ”How did our parents teach us since we were kids? Physical labor, craft work—even if the pay is low, that’s called having skill. That’s money you can spend with pride. That money from being beaten... that’s not skill; it’s going down the wrong path. After this job is done and we get the hard-earned money we deserve, from now on... we’ll find an honest living.”

His tone wasn’t particularly noble, but it held the simple, stubborn persistence of a small person at the bottom of society.

The Bald Man gave a half-understanding ”oh” and stopped asking. He just gripped the steering wheel tighter as the van drove toward a more remote corner of the city.

On the outskirts of A City, in an unfinished building overgrown with weeds, moonlight shone through the glassless windows, reflecting the swirling dust and cold concrete structures.

Brother Bufan was tied securely to a coarse concrete pillar. The rope was wound with great technique, going around his shoulders, chest, and wrists before being tied in a dead knot behind his back.

The Bald Man took a plastic bucket of cold water and splashed it mercilessly over Brother Bufan’s head with a ”crash.”

The bone-chilling cold instantly jolted the unconscious Brother Bufan awake.

He snapped his eyes open, his pupils constricting in the dim light. Almost instinctively, his muscles bulged, and a surge of powerful internal energy rose from his dantian, attempting to snap the restraints!

However, as soon as he exerted force, he noticed something was wrong.

Instead of loosening, the rope seemed to tighten by a notch as if it were alive, responding to his struggle!

The rough hemp rope bit deep into his flesh, bringing a burning sting. Furthermore, a supple, feminine strength was transmitted through the rope, faintly neutralizing his explosive power.

”Save your strength,” the Bald Man said, tossing the empty plastic bucket aside and standing before Brother Bufan with his arms crossed, his tone carrying a hint of smug coarseness. ”This isn’t an ordinary rope. It’s a cowhide cord soaked in water, specifically designed to deal with people like you who have great strength. The more you struggle, the tighter it binds. It’ll bite into your flesh, and that won’t feel good.”

An expert!

Brother Bufan was deeply shaken, instantly putting away his last bit of contempt.

These two men, who looked unremarkable and even a bit rustic, had such sophisticated and professional binding techniques!

They were definitely not ordinary street thugs.

He hadn’t been in A City for long and had acted quite low-key. Even if there were some minor frictions, it definitely wouldn’t escalate to the point of needing such methods, nor would anyone be able to accurately track his movements and set an ambush. Could they be associates of those men in suits from the port?

But their style of operation was completely different...

”Who are you?” Brother Bufan suppressed his churning blood and shock, his voice somewhat raspy. His sharp gaze swept over the Bald Man in front of him and the Bald-headed Man next to him, who was noisily slurping the last few bites of instant noodles. ”Who sent you? What do you want?”

The Bald-headed Man had just finished the last of the noodle soup, let out a satisfied ”ha,” and tossed away the instant noodle cup.

He wiped his mouth, mimicking the high-and-mighty, nonchalantly oppressive manner Su Bai had when interrogating them. He walked up to Brother Bufan, trying to put on a stern face, and spoke in a gruff voice:

”You, are you called Brother Bufan?” He tried to make his gaze look sharp, but because the imitation was stiff, it instead revealed a bit of forced, comical seriousness.

Brother Bufan narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer immediately. He was thinking quickly: the other party knew his name, but they didn’t seem entirely sure of his identity?

This kind of opening to an interrogation seemed more like confirming a target than a targeted revenge killing or forced confession.

Could it be... they really got the wrong person?

Or was the information from the person behind them incomplete?

Under the moonlight, the unfinished building was deathly silent, with only the sound of wind passing through the empty windows.

The kidnappers and the kidnapped ”Dragon King” formed a bizarre and tension-filled scene in this forgotten ruin.

”What exactly are you after by kidnapping me?” Brother Bufan asked again, enduring the discomfort of the tightening rope and the faint throbbing at the back of his head. His gaze was locked on these two kidnappers, whose every word and action lacked a professional air.

Hearing this, the Bald-headed Man tried to recall the tone from the gangster movies he had seen. He puffed out his chest, wanting to appear more fierce and confident. ”Can’t tell, can you? You’re quite valuable, kid! Enough talk. Prepare ten million, in cash! Then we’ll let you go and guarantee your life!”

He tried to mimic the posture of a cold-blooded extortionist, but his thick regional accent and slightly impatient tone instantly exposed his amateur status and his purely financial motives.

This clumsy imitation and the demand for extortion, which was so direct it was almost blunt, actually caused Brother Bufan’s tensed nerves to relax slightly.

They weren’t the well-trained, mysterious men in suits from the port, nor were they enemies from the Dragon King Hall seeking him out.