"Brother Wang, I'm leaving this to you."
Wang Bao immediately grew excited—he'd long despised this mother-son pair.
In the past, Lin Ran had often upset the young lady, and many times it was because of these two.
As Wang Bao slowly approached them, both screamed in terror.
"Ah—stay away from us!"
"Gēge, qīqī lǔ fā guō wǔ." (Brother, please spare us.)
Lin Ran watched with an expressionless sneer.
"This is your punishment. You turned our company's storage room into a pigsty. What, is your whole family disabled? Eat, sleep, repeat? Can't even handle basic cleaning? Are you all just worthless trash?"
Suddenly realizing his words were inappropriate, Lin Ran quickly corrected himself.
"Sorry, I insulted disabled people. I deserve to die—they're far better than you."He slapped himself, silently apologizing in his heart. Disabled people deserved respect.
Despite life's hardships, they faced it with courage—a spirit both admirable and endearing. He shouldn’t have lumped Lin Jian and his mother with them. They weren’t even worthy of the comparison.
May all those brave souls live free from suffering, untouched by life's cruelties.
Wang Bao was a professional. First, he stuffed socks into their mouths, then sealed them with tape to ensure their screams wouldn’t torture Lin Ran’s ears.
Then, he targeted their pressure points—agonizing but not fatal.
After all, without Lin Ran’s order, he wouldn’t kill indiscriminately.
"Mmph—mmph—!"
Despite the mother and son’s blood-curdling screams, their tears and snot flinging everywhere, Lin Ran didn’t stop Wang Bao.
Wang Bao employed every technique he’d ever learned, reducing Lin Jian and Liu Yuemei to writhing, howling wrecks—yet leaving no visible marks.
Eventually, both passed out.
"Douse them. Keep going."
After several rounds of torment, they lay limp, twitching grotesquely on the floor like maggots in a cesspit.
Liu Yuemei had even lost control of her bladder, the stench clinging to her. Wang Bao violently ripped off her still-intact cast.
Their phones kept ringing—no doubt Lin Tianba was looking for them.
"What a pathetic family," Lin Ran remarked.
Only when they collapsed unconscious yet again did Lin Ran check the time and signal Wang Bao to stop.ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ NovᴇlFɪre.nᴇt
Covering his nose, he approached, retrieved their phones, and unlocked them using their faces.
What he found shocked him.
In Liu Yuemei’s QQ app, he navigated to Settings > Privacy > Hidden Chats—and struck gold.
No surprise there. In his past life, Lin Ran had used the same trick to hide things from Luo Yao.
People loved burying their secrets deep. And Lin Ran? He was an expert at digging them up.
Who was Liu Yuemei hiding this from? Lin Tianba, of course.
Between couples, phones were often the minefield that destroyed relationships.
(Disclaimer: Don’t try this at home. Author takes no responsibility for the fallout. May all readers find pure love.)
Lin Ran’s eyes were assaulted by Liu Yuemei’s phone.
Holy hell—she was into nude video chats? This was eye-bleach-worthy.
And what was this? Proof of her affairs?
Ugly on the outside, wild behind closed doors.
Lin Ran felt like he needed to scrub his eyeballs.
He scoured other private content—WeChat, Alipay.
One transfer record gave him pause.
Over the years, this pair had amassed a fortune—yet Liu Yuemei had handed it all to Lin Tianba?
Was it during that stock buyout? What excuse had she used?
Whatever dumb reason it was, only a fool like Lin Tianba would buy it.
Then he checked Lin Jian’s phone.
What the—
His gallery was full of what?
Wait… wasn’t that Liu Ruxue?
He’d recorded these videos?
Jesus Christ.
Lin Jian was a master of taboo. His existence proved the world’s depravity.
Grinning, Lin Ran forwarded everything to his own phone before slipping theirs back.
Bonus loot.
This was gold.
If this got out, Liu Ruxue and Lin Jian would be infamous overnight.
How much did Lin Tianba know?
Not the time yet.
Lin Tianba still had money, and Liu Yuemei would cling to him.
When he lost everything, then Lin Ran would drop the truth—crushing him at his lowest.
He wondered what Lin Tianba would do.
If he killed these two, Lin Ran might even applaud him.
Just then, Lin Jian’s phone rang again. Lin Ran answered.
"Old man, what now?"
"Lin Ran? Why do you have Jian’s phone? What did you do to them? Let them go!"
Lin Ran narrowed his eyes.
Even now, he couldn’t fathom Lin Tianba’s logic.
What kind of father showed such blind favoritism?
Lin Tianba was the reason he’d become this person.
The old Lin Ran was dead. This version had no concept of father and son.
And the one who killed him wasn’t Lin Jian, Liu Yuemei, or Liu Ruxue—who’d pushed him off the rooftop.
Nor was it Luo Yao, who’d loved him to death, literally.
It was Lin Tianba’s favoritism. Without it, Lin Ran might never have fallen this far.
Favoritism was too generous. Lin Tianba had no love.
Everything—everything—was his fault.
"Oh, them? They’re half-dead already."
"What? You—you lunatic! I’ll call the police!" Lin Tianba roared.
"Go ahead. My wife’s Luo Yao. Who do I have to fear?"
A pause on the other end.
"You really think Luo Yao would sacrifice everything for you? Dream on."
"You’re just her plaything. The moment you threaten her interests, she’ll dump you without hesitation."
"And when that day comes, don’t bother begging me. I won’t lift a finger."