Evil People Have Their Own Evil Mothers [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 22: Your Turn

Chapter 22: Your Turn

Bang bang bang—!

Several urgent, fierce knocks struck the door.

Pan Yu’s impatient voice exploded from outside: Xu Jiu, hurry up! What time is it? Are you eating or not? I’m starving!

Cao Weidong’s blood-filled hand instantly went limp as if its tendons had been ripped out, dangling weakly at his side.

Xu Jiu glanced at the door, then quickly averted his gaze. The cigarette pinched between his fingers was nearly burnt out; with two flicks, ash scattered across the floor.

He brought the cigarette back to Cao Weidong’s lips.

Staring at Cao Weidong, he deliberately leaned closer and patted his cheek, provocatively grinning as he said, You missed your chance this time.

Xu Jiu was certain—Cao Weidong had genuinely intended to kill him moments earlier.

If Pan Yu hadn’t knocked, he would have died here today.

What a pity. So close, yet so far.

Xu Jiu left, swiping Cao Weidong’s brand-new box of condoms on his way out, tossing it playfully in his hand.

Cao Weidong sat on the floor, using his hand to hold the cigarette at his lips. He pressed his palm to his nose, rubbing away the clogged blood, took a deep breath, then coughed, forced to exhale the white smoke trapped in his mouth.

He pulled out the hidden glass bottle from his pocket. Blood stained its surface; the moment his burning palm touched the icy cold glass, his tense body collapsed all at once. He slumped despondently against the white wall behind him.

Only half a bottle left. Only one chance left.

Too bad.

Next time, then.

Next time for sure.

Cao Weidong lowered his head, mimicking Xu Jiu’s gesture, and slowly, reluctantly smoked the dwindling cigarette down to the filter, one drag after another.

Ignoring his own battered, bleeding state, he focused solely on savoring the lingering taste in his mouth.

When only a tiny stub remained, he finally let it fall, unable to hold it any longer.

He stood up, fetched a glass of water, and washed down the remaining traces of smoke.

Cao Weidong stood by the window, picked up his phone, dialed a number, and held it to his ear.
While on the call, he happened to see Pan Yu sling an arm over Xu Jiu’s shoulder, leaning in with a cheerful grin to whisper something in his ear.

Cao Weidong’s fingers gripping the cup turned red; his arm strained with excessive force, flushing with congested blood, veins bulging prominently beneath his skin.

Hello? Who is this? Speak! a loud, abrupt male voice demanded through the phone.

Cao Weidong stared down at Pan Yu, who appeared as insignificant as an ant from above. After a heavy, deliberate exhale, he coldly asked, Is the warehouse for rent?

Pan Yu remained completely unaware of the dangerous gaze from the window behind him. Xu Jiu wanted to glance back, but Pan Yu hooked an arm around his shoulder, patting him and joking lightheartedly:

What did you do to him? He looked like he wanted to strangle you. Why are you hiding things from your bro? Don’t you trust me anymore?

Xu Jiu quickly dismissed the stare at his back, rolling his eyes at Pan Yu. I fucked him. Want to see?

Whoa, you really did—?! Pan Yu yanked his hand off Xu Jiu and covered his own rear.

Xu Jiu curled his lips in disdain. Relax, I’m not interested in you.

Pan Yu chuckled and fell back into step beside him. For real?

Yeah.

You were on top?

Mhm.

Pan Yu hummed thoughtfully, remarking, Then you must be pretty quick—over just like that.

…………

Xu Jiu didn’t want to engage further. At the crossroads, he turned and headed in the opposite direction.

Where are you going?

Home. To sleep.

The two parted ways at the intersection.

The traces of winter deepened further, with most leaves fallen from the trees, leaving bare branches keeping company with the streetlights. When the lights came on, the illumination spread unobstructed around them, the pale tree trunks standing lonely and desolate.

The wind rose, carrying nothing away, leaving only the dry yellow withered grass rustling softly.

Cao Weidong tidied up the dormitory once more, as if Xu Jiu had never been there. After tending to his wounds, he shouldered his black backpack and headed toward the bar.

The small glass vial was hidden in a compartment of his backpack, carefully wrapped in thick layers of tissue paper to prevent breakage.

The bar owner glanced at him, somewhat surprised. Didn’t I tell you not to come anymore?

Cao Weidong paused, uttered an Oh, and turned to leave, but then circled back to say, You haven’t paid my wages.

The bar owner gave him an extra few dozen yuan to round it up to three hundred in cash, then waved his hand, urging him to leave quickly.

We can’t afford to serve that honored guest. Every time you show up, he comes to cause trouble, ruining the bar’s business.

That honored guest.

Cao Weidong knew he was referring to Xu Jiu.

Thank you, Cao Weidong said, then bypassed the owner and headed toward the back door of the bar.

His dog was still chained up behind the bar, and he needed to take it away from there.

So this is Cao Weidong’s dog?

Before Cao Weidong could push the door open, he heard voices outside.

Last time I saw Cao Weidong taking care of it here. If it weren’t his dog, would that cold bastard Cao Weidong even pay it any attention?

Perhaps sensing the hostility, the dog trembled violently but forced itself to stand up, tail tucked between its legs, and shakily moved toward Pan Yu.

Cao Weidong opened the door and stepped out. No one noticed the movement in the darkness as he stood naturally with his hands at his sides, coldly watching everything unfolding not far away.

Whimper… The dog moaned pitifully.

Disgust was written all over Pan Yu’s face. As the dog nudged closer to him, he took two steps back.

Come any closer and I’ll kick you to death!

Pan Yu’s threat was delivered in a vicious tone.

The old dog began whimpering again, tail clamped tight, body shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Yet as if driven by some mission or purpose, it resolutely chose the most intimidating person in the crowd, stubbornly inching closer to Pan Yu.

It voluntarily placed its head beneath the guillotine, seeking its own death, so no one could blame Pan Yu for kicking it away.

The kick wasn’t delivered with full force—more meant to drive it away than to punish.

Pan Yu wouldn’t stoop to holding a grudge against a dog; he just found it filthy.

Bro! Bro! Why isn’t it moving? A lackey pushed Pan Yu’s arm, pointing at the thing on the ground.

Pan Yu stared for a moment. It seemed dead. Not quite believing it, he nudged it a couple more times with his foot. The dog remained completely still.

The dog lay on the ground, utterly rigid, the faint rise and fall of its abdomen ceasing after a series of rapid, slight tremors.

The whimpering stopped. All that could be heard was the thumping bass of dance music filtering through the bar’s back door, pounding incessantly, making hearts beat in sync.

The dog was dead.

It died quietly.

Finally getting what it wanted.

Cao Weidong had watched the dog die with his own eyes.

In fact, if Cao Weidong had wanted to, he could have completely prevented this tragedy.

But Cao Weidong didn’t. He just stood silently in the darkness, watching indifferently as the old dog urgently sought out its target for death, finally achieving its wish to escape Cao Weidong’s control.

The dog wanted to die. It was Cao Weidong who didn’t want to let it die.

But now, it seemed Cao Weidong’s obsession with it wasn’t as profound as he remembered. Watching it slowly choke out its last breath, he felt not even a trace of sorrow.

Cao Weidong’s body was like a piece of rotten wood, decayed and liquefied inside. What little had been holding it together had now completely rotted away, not even leaving behind the maggots of pain to continue gnawing at it—only an endless, boundless void remained.

Cao Weidong wanted to grieve, but he couldn’t summon the emotion to send this old dog on its final journey. He could only stand there numbly, watching, and then begin to breathe.

Cao Weidong emerged from the darkness, standing opposite Pan Yu, scanning the area in search of something.

He didn’t find what he was looking for. After a moment, Cao Weidong spoke up:

Where’s Xu Jiu?

Pan Yu spat in disgust at the sight of Cao Weidong. The fleeting pity he’d felt for the dog vanished instantly, replaced by pure hostility.

What the hell does it matter to you where Xu Jiu is?

Pan Yu kicked the dead dog on the ground as if venting his anger, letting out a scornful snort. Hurry up and take care of your dog’s corpse.

Where’s Xu Jiu? Cao Weidong pressed.

Pan Yu’s smirk vanished instantly. He lunged forward, landing a punch squarely in Cao Weidong’s abdomen, and snarled, Are you out of your damn mind? What do you want with Xu Jiu?!

No matter what Pan Yu said, Cao Weidong merely stared back expressionlessly and repeated, Where’s Xu Jiu?

Pan Yu’s fists pounded into flesh, slamming Cao Weidong against the wall.

With his head pressed against the wall, Cao Weidong narrowed his eyes and coldly scrutinized the man before him.

He let Pan Yu vent, tilting his head back to feel the warm blood trickling down his cheek. He raised a hand to wipe it, smearing a spiderweb-like pattern of terrifying crimson.

Are you insane?

If you dare do anything to Xu Jiu, I’ll be the first to end you.

No—I’ll end you right now. I’ll pay to take your worthless life.

Pan Yu jabbed a finger in Cao Weidong’s direction.

Cao Weidong’s gaze bypassed Pan Yu’s hand, fixing directly on the surveillance camera mounted high on the wall. In the darkness, the camera emitted a cold, dangerous red glow.

With every punch Pan Yu threw, the red light flickered, the warning hue intensifying as the injuries worsened.

Cao Weidong’s hair fell over his eyes, his lips hidden in the bloody dimness.

He was smiling, thinking how perfectly this opportunity had presented itself.

Pan Yu grew tired of hitting him and spat at Cao Weidong, who remained leaning against the wall.

How much is this dead dog of yours worth? I’ll pay you back.

Pan Yu pulled a few red bills from his wallet and waved them in front of Cao Weidong.

Cao Weidong’s voice was hoarse as he replied softly, Six thousand.

Hah—fine.

Six thousand was a trivial amount to Pan Yu. He grabbed a handful of cash from his wallet and tossed it into the air, scattering bills everywhere.

Go pick it up.

Calmly, Cao Weidong bent down, lowering his head. In the dim night, he meticulously gathered the bills from the ground.

The ground was damp and muddy, indistinguishable whether from vomit or filth, and the entire area reeked of a nauseating stench.

Cao Weidong’s hands brushed against the ground as he picked up the soiled money, carefully wiping it clean against his clothes.

He folded each cleaned bill into his palm, counting them one by one. When he reached sixty, he stopped.

Throughout the entire process, Cao Weidong displayed not a hint of inferiority. Instead, he carried an air of undeniable entitlement.

Calm, composed, neither haughty nor humble.

As if the money on the ground had always been his, he was merely picking up something he had lost.

Pan Yu laughed heartily as he took out his phone, aiming the camera at Cao Weidong, recording every submissive and groveling movement before sending the footage to Xu Jiu as if seeking praise.

Stay away from Xu Jiu, got it?

Pan Yu was about to leave when Cao Weidong coldly added from behind him, What about Xu Jiu?

Rage instantly surged through Pan Yu’s entire body. He spun around and threw a heavy punch aimed directly at Cao Weidong’s face.

But this time, the punch missed.

Instead, Cao Weidong’s left hand shot out, gripping Pan Yu’s throat and slamming him against the wall with terrifying force, knocking him unconscious on impact.

Yet Cao Weidong had no intention of letting him off. He grabbed Pan Yu by the hair, pinning him against the wall. His hand moved like a hammer driving a nail—repeatedly, mechanically, violently—smashing Pan Yu’s head into the wall again and again.

Cao Weidong lifted his gaze, sweeping it across the two boys who had been following Pan Yu in the dim light.

A sharp, piercing fear shot through their eyes. Trembling, they scrambled to call the police while fleeing toward a crowded area, screaming, Murder!

Cao Weidong corrected them calmly: Excessive self-defense.

Not long after, Xu Jiu’s gloating call came through. He had only seen the video Pan Yu sent him about the dog and had no idea what had happened afterward.

The dog dead?

Mm.

Cao Weidong replied with his usual calm.

Even as he held a bloody, lifeless body dangling limply by his side.

Not angry?

Your turn.

Xu Jiu was puzzled: What?

Your turn.