Big Data Cultivation

Chapter 437: Chapter 437: They All Deserved It

Feng Jun and that driver were worlds apart in status, making a personal visit highly unlikely unless it was for show.

Even Sister Hong’s words reflected an important principle for those higher up: interact with subordinates with measured closeness—too distant breeds resentment, too close invites insolence.

However, his promise of vengeance was quite generous towards this underling’s subordinate.

The military guesthouse was modest, being just a facility within a Military Division Area, but Counsel Yao still managed to get Feng Jun a suite.

As for Sister Hong and the others, they weren’t so fortunate—they actually ended up sharing a three-person room with Feng Jing and Zhang Caixin.

Director Mei didn’t complain about this arrangement; having stayed in such places before, she didn’t want to appear too delicate in front of the other two ladies.

Xu Leigang’s accommodation wasn’t much better; he shared a standard room with Wang Haifeng.

In fact, there were only two suites in the entire guesthouse, usually reserved for inspections by high-ranking officers.

Feng Jun, knowing the three beauties were rooming together, dismissed any further thoughts. He hadn’t even succeeded in his imagination to “fly” once; actually making it happen was as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Around nine in the morning, someone knocked on the door. The service staff wanted to know who was staying in the suite. They said it was friends of Counsel Yao, arranged by the conscription office’s Xu Leigang. After some muttering, they walked away.

The next morning at six, the guesthouse’s dining hall opened, in keeping with military tradition.

Feng Jun and the others also rose early, skipping breakfast. They filled several thermos with soy milk, grabbed buns, fried dough sticks, and eggs, planning to eat on the road.

In truth, the Xu Family hadn’t relaxed their surveillance on them, worried they might just run off.

Yet, their stay was in a military guesthouse, where even the Xu Family, powerful as they were, couldn’t intervene.

But the Xu Family was ruthless enough to park a van opposite the guesthouse, making their intention to monitor them quite clear.

There were guards at the guesthouse gate who found the van quite distasteful, daring to park across the street. It was inevitable that they would come over to inquire—this was a military zone, what were you planning by lingering nearby?

The van drove off but didn’t go far, just three or four hundred meters from the gate. @@novelbin@@

As four Zhengyang-branded cars left the gate, people in the van panicked. They hadn’t expected these individuals to depart so early.

Two young men inside the van were frantically making calls while chasing after them, showing amateurish reactions, but it was clear they wouldn’t give up so easily.

Feng Jun had never seen Los Angeles at four in the morning, but at six o’clock in Chaoge, the streets were so empty that planes could land freely—traffic jams were out of the question.

The four cars, the least of which was a Magotan, made the pursuing van’s experience truly miserable.

However, the van, devoid of license plates, brazenly ran red lights—the advantage of being a local was too great.

After a ten-minute drive and nearing the highway entrance, a patrol motorcycle came speeding over, signaling for the convoy to pull over.

Taking the lead in his Jeep, Xu Leigang soared past without mercy, followed by the other three cars bursting through.

Only a fool would stop now. If the patrol officer tangled with them for a few minutes, the rest of the police would arrive, and who knew what trouble might ensue. Better to ignore them.

Watching the speeding convoy, the patrol officer turned pale with anger, but there was nothing he could do—his two wheels were no match for the iron-clad power of their four wheels. A mere brush could cause him many problems he couldn’t afford.

But the highway entrance was just ahead. The small van, trailing behind, also rushed over at a speed of eighty miles per hour. Seeing this, the patrol officer revved his engine and gave chase.

His motorcycle was a 125CC that could reach one hundred and fifty miles per hour under optimal conditions—an act of recklessness to put it mildly. However, one hundred miles per hour was a breeze.

Seated in Sister Hong’s 740, with Zhang Caixin driving, Sister Hong beside her, and Feng Jing in the back seat alongside him, Feng Jun watched the van and motorcycle chase after them like lunatics. He rolled down the window and looked back.

Sister Hong, attentive to his actions, snorted, “Feng Jun, what are you up to?”

“Hehe,” Feng Jun chuckled, but didn’t answer.

The van pursued madly, and so did the patrol motorcycle. Although small, the police light mounted high on the back of the motorcycle flashed continuously, exerting immense pressure, symbolizing the authority of the law.

In reality, the motorcycle was even more frantic than the van. It quickly caught up to the van and tried to overtake from the right.

Just then, the vehicles reached an elevated area with fields on both sides that were a good two to three meters below the level of the road.

Feng Jun smiled, extended his hand, and pointed at the right front tire of the van.

With a loud “bang,” the right front tire of the van blew out, and the vehicle violently lurched to the right.

What happens when a high-speed vehicle suddenly has a tire blowout?—actually, it’s not that scary; the steering might become heavier, and there’s some loss of control.

Of course, if the hub flies off and hits oncoming traffic, then it’s a disaster.

Faced with the sudden blowout, the van didn’t completely lose control; eighty miles per hour wasn’t terrifyingly fast.

However, this was a bread van doing over eighty miles an hour, not a sedan. At this speed, the van began to skid, severely testing the driver’s reflexes and handling skills.

The van jerked, veering directly to the right.

The motorcyclist to the right got the shock of his life, the dull thud alone was frightening, not to mention seeing the van swerving towards him. Without thinking, he turned the handlebars, planning to skirt around—this was definitely not the time to let go of the clutch and hit the brakes.

But he forgot that the motorcycle was traveling at over 110 miles an hour. A turn was doable, but he really couldn’t afford too wide an arc.

—Of course, he also didn’t anticipate that even if he didn’t take a wide turn, someone would remotely nudge the handlebars from afar.

Since Feng Jun didn’t deliver a final blow, the motorcycle simply fell over and slid a great distance.

Because of the motorcycle’s speed, the patrolling officer rolled off of it and tumbled down the road embankment, plunging into the ditch by the road.

The ditch was filled with soft soil, and at a little over two meters high, it wasn’t considered tall. A regular person jumping off the side of the road would only have to worry about getting scratched by bushes or spraining an ankle.

But the falling officer already had a starting speed of a hundred miles an hour, and even after being rubbed and tripped by the pavement, he still possessed a strong kinetic energy.

Let’s not dwell on his outcome for now. After the van veered to the right, it realized something was amiss, then swerved sharply to the left and slammed on the brakes.

All readers are seasoned drivers. Under high-speed conditions, the consequences of such maneuvers speak for themselves without needing a detailed description from Feng Xiao…

The bread van made a sharp turn, leaving two long skid marks on the highway, and then… it flipped over, continuing to roll…

Thankfully, it was four in the morning in Los Angeles… six in the morning in Chaoge, and there were no cars behind. It hadn’t started a chain of traffic accidents.

The convoy of four cars ahead witnessed the harrowing yet not particularly tragic accident.

Yet the convoy remained unaffected, passing through the highway tollbooth and speeding away one after another.

Once on the highway, Sister Hong finally broke the silence, “Feng Jun… what happened with that car accident?”

“They were careless and fell over by themselves,” Feng Jing spoke up before Feng Jun could answer.

Even in front of their own people, she still wanted to distance herself. Her cautious attitude was indeed…

“I’m not asking that,” Sister Hong cut in bluntly, then asked again, “You didn’t use ‘that thing,’ did you?”

“You mean a gun? No!” Feng Jun was forthright, answering with a chuckle, “If I left bullet holes, I’d have to flee for my life, and for someone like them… it’s not worth it.”

Sister Hong was somewhat puzzled, “Then was it just a coincidence, or… that Daoist Technique you mentioned?”

Zhang Caixin guessed what Feng Jun had done. With her sister raising the question, she couldn’t help feeling a hint of schadenfreude: So you still don’t know that he can hurt people with just a flick of his finger?

She knew that Sister Hong had recently reconciled with him, and their relationship had… crossed a threshold. Her face glowed radiantly every day, occasionally mentioning “practicing yoga,” which was probably not a good sign.

Zhang Caixin’s heart was a mixture of feelings. At least, in the quiet of the night, she would sometimes wonder: If I had filled the gap during his period of solitude, would my sister feel as lost as I am now?

Thankfully, there were still some secrets I knew that he hadn’t shared with my sister.

Just then, Feng Jing spoke up, “No need for Daoist Techniques, just striking from a distance is enough.”

She had seen Feng Jun’s strike against the green bamboo snake, and he said it was just within the realm of Martial Cultivation.

Since Zhang Weihong brought up Daoist Technique, she was bold enough to mention Martial Cultivation—so what about it? Did they really think only they knew?

“Striking from a distance?” Sister Hong blinked, her voice tinged with skepticism, “The distance just now was what, thirty or forty meters?”

Feng Jing didn’t bother explaining, “I didn’t say it was him who did it, and I don’t know if he can.”

Zhang Caixin couldn’t take it anymore, “He can do it, I’ve known it for a long time…”

Upon hearing her, Feng Jing and Sister Hong fell silent: What was the relationship between these two…?

The car lapsed into an eerie silence until over the walkie-talkie, Wang Haifeng’s laughter erupted, “Haha, that’s so satisfying! Makes Mr. Xu look like a fool. Don’t you think… why didn’t that bread van just explode?”

“He got what he deserved,” Xu Leigang’s voice also came through the walkie-talkie, “Even though my last name is Xu too, I’m really ashamed of the way they handle things.”

“It’s just the law of the jungle,” Coach Wang opined, having seen plenty of such cases, “But even with General Mou about to leave, they still won’t let it go. They’ve gone too far.”

“Exactly,” Xu Leigang agreed, “Especially since they dared to offend the master, they really deserve to die.”

His Jeep was being driven by a non-commissioned officer who had come along from Zhengyang. It wouldn’t be prudent to speak too openly in front of him.

After a moment of silence, Wang Haifeng spoke again, “I wonder how that motorcyclist is doing.”

“He got what was coming to him!” Mou Miao couldn’t hold back anymore, snatching the walkie-talkie from Xu Leigang, “It was the guy on the motorbike who impounded my car… Xiao Meng was the one rear-ended!”