Ghost Exorciser: Is Loved By All-Chapter 798: Ransom

Fu Jian narrowed his eyes. "Old Master Fu?"

Neither of them answered.

He leaned forward as far as the ropes would allow, his voice sharp. "Is he behind this? Tell me the truth."

The two exchanged a glance. Then the one leaning against the beam said flatly, "You can think whatever you want."

Fu Jian’s heart pounded. "Cowards," he spat. "He was too scared to fight us face-to-face, so he sent dogs instead?"

Instead of reacting, the man closest to him pulled out a phone. He tapped the screen a few times and held it up to his ear.

"Let’s see how loyal your boyfriend really is," he muttered.

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Then, someone picked up.

"Sicong," the man said with a cruel smile in his voice. "You’re looking for Fu Jian, right? Well, we’ve got him. And if you want him back, you’ll listen carefully..."

The phone call continued.

"We want five hundred million yuan," the masked man said clearly into the phone. "Bring it within twenty-four hours. Alone."

There was a pause.

Then Yu Sicong’s voice came through the speaker, calm but tight. "I need proof he’s with you."

The man exchanged a glance with his partner, then tapped on the screen and switched to video call. He pointed the camera at Fu Jian, zooming in on his face.

Fu Jian squinted against the light, then saw Sicong’s face on the screen. His heart twisted a little at how worried he looked.

"Fu Jian!" Sicong’s voice sharpened. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," Fu Jian said quickly. "I’m not hurt. Don’t worry about me."

The kidnapper turned the phone back toward himself. "You saw him. Now, bring the money. And don’t even think about calling the police. If you do, we’ll make sure he’s dead before you even walk through the door."

There was silence.

Then Sicong’s voice came again—lower this time. "Don’t hurt him. I’ll bring the money."

Fu Jian jumped in. "Sicong, listen. Don’t come."

"What?" Sicong’s voice rose a little, sharp with concern.

"Don’t come," Fu Jian repeated. "Just give me twenty-four hours. I’ll find a way out of here myself. I’m not planning to die in some dusty warehouse."

"Fu Jian—" Sicong started, but he was cut off.

"I’m serious," Fu Jian said firmly. "Let these guys keep me for a bit. I’ll escape. You know I’m good at that."

On the other end, Sicong looked stunned. "Don’t do anything reckless. Don’t get hurt just because you’re trying to prove a point."

Fu Jian smirked. "I’m not proving anything. I’m just saving you 500 million yuan."

The kidnappers ended the call right after. The man holding the phone turned to Fu Jian, glaring.

"You really think you’re something, huh?" he growled. "You don’t think we’ll hurt you?"

Fu Jian met his eyes calmly. "At most, you’ll kill me."

He leaned back in the chair, shrugging slightly.

"And if you do? Yu Sicong will make sure none of you see daylight again."

The room went quiet.

The two men stood still, and then, almost at the same time, a cold sweat broke out on their faces.

One of them cursed under his breath, clenching his fists. "We’re not going to kill you."

The other stepped closer, voice low and furious. "But if you don’t shut up, we’ll make sure you regret living every single day. You won’t be able to walk, talk, or even breathe without pain."

Fu Jian tilted his head, smiling faintly. "Well then," he said, "I guess I’ll stop talking."

He leaned back against the chair, satisfied.

The two masked men muttered to each other in the corner, clearly shaken. One of them lit a cigarette, pacing. The other leaned against a crate, watching Fu Jian like a hawk. freёnovelkiss.com

But Fu Jian wasn’t just sitting there.

He was thinking. Fast.

His eyes scanned the room slowly, taking in everything. The flickering lightbulb above. The old metal beams. The stack of wooden pallets in the corner. A rusty tool table not far from him.

His hands were tied behind his back, the rope cutting into his wrists—but not too tight. He shifted slightly in his chair, twisting his wrists gently.

The knot wasn’t professional.

He could work with that.

"Hey," Fu Jian called out suddenly. "I need to use the bathroom."

One of the men snorted. "Hold it."

Fu Jian gave a dramatic sigh. "You really want me to pee in this chair? Go ahead. You’ll be the ones who have to clean it up."

The two kidnappers groaned in unison.

"Just take him," the one with the cigarette muttered, clearly annoyed.

The other guy walked over, untied the rope from the chair but kept Fu Jian’s hands bound. He shoved him toward a door near the back.

"This way."

Inside the small bathroom, the kidnapper stayed by the door, watching. Fu Jian made a show of struggling with his pants.

"Can you at least untie my hands? Or do you want me to just make a mess?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man hesitated, then cursed under his breath and stepped forward.

Big mistake.

The second the rope came loose, Fu Jian spun, slamming his elbow into the man’s nose. The guy staggered back with a howl.

Fu Jian didn’t waste a second—he grabbed the edge of the sink, yanked the mirror off the wall, and smashed it over the guy’s head.

The crash echoed like a gunshot.

The man collapsed.

Fu Jian didn’t stop—he sprinted out of the room, bolting for the stacked pallets.

The second kidnapper shouted and lunged, but Fu Jian was faster—he shoved the pallets down behind him, sending a crashing wall of wood between them. The guy tripped, slamming into the mess.

Fu Jian ran to the rusted tool table, grabbed a sharp screwdriver, and slashed the last bit of rope still wrapped around his wrist. Then he ran.

Out the back door. Into the rain.

The warehouse was in the middle of nowhere, but a narrow road stretched along the hillside. Fu Jian sprinted up it, not stopping to look back. Every muscle in his body burned, but he didn’t care.

The night air was cold. His breath came in sharp bursts.

He kept running.

By the time the kidnappers burst out of the warehouse, screaming into the dark, Fu Jian was already gone—just a shadow moving fast under the moonlight.

Ten minutes later, he was running along the highway. His clothes were soaked, his legs ached, but his mind was sharper than ever.

Who did this?

His first thought was Old Master Fu. The man had threatened them earlier. He had motive, power, and just enough pride to lash out when cornered.

But then another name hit him.

Kong Wan.

Cold. Strategic. She had more than enough reason to want him out of the way—and unlike Old Master Fu, she wouldn’t hesitate. She wouldn’t even blink.

His mind raced with all the possibilities.

Just as Fu Jian was trying to catch his breath, headlights cut through the rain and darkness. A black car sped down the empty highway, tires hissing on wet pavement.

Fu Jian’s heart leapt.

He stumbled into the middle of the road, waving his arms frantically. "Hey! Stop! Please!"

The car slowed, then stopped a few feet away. The engine rumbled softly as the driver’s window rolled down.

And then—Fu Jian froze.

Sitting behind the wheel was Gu Nian.

His white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, rain tapping lightly on the roof of the car. His expression was unreadable.

Fu Jian’s breath caught in his throat. "Gu Nian?" he asked slowly, confused and tense. "What... what are you doing here?"

Gu Nian raised a brow. "That’s what I should be asking you. What are you doing out in the middle of the road, looking like you just escaped a war zone?"

Fu Jian narrowed his eyes. His shirt was torn, his face still smeared with dust. "Let’s just say... I ran into a bit of a situation."

Gu Nian didn’t reply at first. He just looked at Fu Jian for a long moment, then sighed.

Fu Jian clenched his jaw. "If you have even one ounce of guilt left in that heart of yours, give me a ride."

A flicker of emotion passed across Gu Nian’s face. Guilt. Regret, maybe.

Without a word, he leaned over and opened the passenger door. "Get in."

Fu Jian hesitated only a second before sliding in. The leather seats were warm against his soaked clothes. He slammed the door shut—

Click.

The locks slid into place.

Fu Jian glanced at the door, then turned slowly to look at Gu Nian. "...Why did you lock it?"

Gu Nian kept his eyes on the road, gripping the steering wheel. "Just a habit. Don’t want anyone jumping in while I’m parked on the side of a highway."

Fu Jian didn’t look convinced. He stared at Gu Nian’s profile for a long second, suspicion creeping into his gut like poison. "...You knew I’d be here, didn’t you?"

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