Chapter 35: Now, I Call the Shots

Facing the hostile glares of the man known as "Yellow Hair's" parents, Wang Shanshan was visibly timid. She clung to Cao Kun’s hand, practically hiding entirely behind him.

Cao Kun, however, remained completely unfazed by their aggressive stares. Having spent ten years in a maximum-security prison, he had seen far more menacing gazes than these. To him, the expressions of the parents were mere child's play—not only failing to pose a threat, but appearing almost cute and friendly.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here," Cao Kun said, gently reassuring her before leading her forward.

"You must be the parents of Huang Jianren, right?" Cao Kun greeted them naturally and magnanimously.

Huang Jianren’s father let out a cold snort. "Hmph, so you’re the one representing Wang Yifu?"

"Not officially, not yet." Cao Kun smiled slightly and pulled Wang Shanshan forward. "She is the one representing Uncle Wang. This is Wang Shanshan, his daughter. As for me, I am her suitor."

Wang Shanshan looked at the couple timidly, quickly lowering her head and bowing. "Uncle, Auntie, I’m sorry. I know that nothing I say will make a difference now, but I still want to apologize sincerely on behalf of my father."

"Hmph, no need," Huang Jianren’s mother retorted angrily. "We won't accept apologies from your family. A life for a life, a debt for a debt. My son’s life must be paid for with your father’s."

Wang Shanshan had only just graduated from high school. While she possessed a certain knack for playing the victim, she was ultimately too inexperienced for a situation of this magnitude. Seeing her frozen by the mother's retort, Cao Kun offered a faint smile. Ignoring the parents' glares, he pulled her down to sit.

"Listen," Cao Kun began, "we are here today to discuss the letter of forgiveness, so I’ll skip the pleasantries. The 3.5 million compensation you’re asking for is simply an amount we cannot afford. How about this: lower the amount. If it were 800,000, we could scrape that together."

What?

Upon hearing this, the parents were stunned. They suspected they had misheard. 800,000 to buy their letter of forgiveness? It was a pipe dream.

Issuing that letter would essentially ensure that Wang Yifu would not be sentenced to death. If he were spared, what about their son? It would be equivalent to selling their son’s life for a mere 800,000.

"Are you joking with us?" the father growled. "You want to buy my son’s life for 800,000? If I offered 1.6 million right now, could I buy both of yours?"

Cao Kun chuckled. "Sir, don't get agitated. I know this figure doesn't meet your expectations, but the amount of compensation isn't up to you—it depends on what we can actually produce."

"That is far too little," the mother snapped. "800,000 is impossible. 2.8 million is our bottom line. Anything less, and you can prepare to collect the murderer's corpse. We will never grant that letter!"

Time ticked by. Half an hour passed.

Wang Shanshan had known before arriving that dropping from 3.5 million to 800,000 was a long shot, but she hadn't expected the situation to be this hopeless. The relentless, suffocating pressure from the parents made her feel as though she were drowning. Had it not been for Cao Kun shielding her, she felt she would have crumbled under their onslaught.

"2.6 million!" the father insisted. "That is our final bottom line. Anything less, and you can just let Wang Yifu die."

After thirty minutes of haggling, the price had stalled at 2.6 million. It was their absolute limit. Dropping from 3.5 million to 2.6 million was a significant concession, yet Wang Shanshan felt no relief. Whether it was 2.6 million or 3.5 million, it made no difference—she couldn't pay either.

Seeing that they had reached their limit, Cao Kun glanced at Wang Shanshan. "Shanshan, why don't you go outside and get some rest?"

She hesitated, wondering why he would ask her to leave now, but it was exactly what she wanted. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She nodded at him, stood up, and left the cafe.

Once she was gone, Cao Kun stretched and turned his attention back to the parents. "Alright, now we can talk business."

What? The couple looked stunned. They were only just starting to talk? What had the last half hour been?

"Stop wasting your breath," the mother said. "2.6 million is our final offer. Don't even think about getting that letter for a penny less."

"No, no, no." Cao Kun crossed his legs, wagged a finger at them, and smiled. "It seems you two still don't understand the situation. It’s not your call anymore—it's mine."

"It's your call?" The father's brow furrowed. "Who do you think you are? You're just the suitor of a murderer's daughter. Do you really think you're someone important? Let me be clear: I’m talking to you because I’m willing to; otherwise, you wouldn't even have the right to sit here."

Ignoring the insult, Cao Kun calmly pulled out his phone. He plugged in his earphones, opened a video, and handed the phone to the mother, gesturing for her to watch.

The mother looked at him suspiciously but took the phone, plugging one earphone into her ear. Her husband leaned in, taking the other.

As the video played, their expressions darkened within seconds. As it continued, their faces grew increasingly grim. Three minutes in, Cao Kun reached out and took the phone back.

It was the original footage of Bai Jing being dragged into the alley and assaulted by the three men, including their son. The first three minutes covered how they dragged her in, the threats, and the initial stripping of her clothes. The footage that followed was the assault itself, which didn't need to be shown. The parents were worldly enough to know exactly what would happen next.