Chapter 9: Composure in the Face of Danger

"Kid’s got quick reflexes!"
It turned out Scarface had led seven or eight men around the other side to block their path.
"Officer! Over here!"
Jiang Butong suddenly shouted behind Scarface.
Scarface was startled; though these thugs feared little, none wanted to end up in jail, especially with the recent crackdown—once inside, even connections might not get you out.
Seizing the moment when Scarface glanced back, Jiang Butong hoisted Chen Pan’er onto his back and dashed off.
As he ran, he adjusted Chen Pan’er, who was slipping down; luckily, she wasn’t heavy, or he would have been unable to keep up the pace.
Scarface belatedly realized there were no officers nearby. His anger turned into a mocking laugh.
"Damn brat, trying to fool me? First one to catch that kid tonight gets a hefty reward!"
Scarface’s lackeys erupted into sinister laughter and took off after Jiang Butong.
The pounding footsteps made the nearby neighbors keep silent, fearful of attracting the thugs’ attention.
"Turn right, there’s a small alley!"
Chen Pan’er, who often set up her stall here, knew the area well.
Jiang Butong didn’t hesitate and darted into the alley. The sudden shift from light to shadow made him squint.
Clinging to Jiang Butong’s back, Chen Pan’er snatched a flowerpot from a window ledge in passing.
Scarface and Blondie had already led their men to the alley’s entrance.
Because the alley was narrow, they squeezed together, forced to slow down.
Chen Pan’er seized the chance and hurled the flowerpot backward.
With a clatter, a scream echoed behind them—the flowerpot had struck someone squarely.
A cascade of curses followed.
"How’s my aim?"
Chen Pan’er asked, as if being on Jiang Butong’s back gave her a rare sense of safety.
"With a crowd like that, you could hit someone with your eyes closed," Jiang Butong replied, spotting the light at the end of the alley—they were nearly out.
"Turn left again, there’s a corridor."
Chen Pan’er took charge of directions and keeping watch, while Jiang Butong supplied the muscle. Their cooperation grew more seamless.
Behind them, Scarface and Blondie were cursing furiously. If not for that flowerpot slowing them down, they’d have caught Jiang Butong by now.
"Split up!"
Scarface jerked his chin, sending Blondie to head them off down another side alley.
"Damn, those two are slippery!"
Blondie beckoned a few men and took off after Jiang Butong, muttering to himself that if he caught the brat, he’d break his legs so he’d never run again.
Jiang Butong, still carrying Chen Pan’er, reached the corridor.
"That door ahead—go in!" Chen Pan’er whispered.
Jiang Butong slipped through the door with agility, realizing it was a stairwell.
Back in the day, these old apartment blocks had communal corridors running along the outside, with rows of flats inside.
They were now in such a corridor’s stairwell.
Jiang Butong weighed his options: go upstairs, or hide in the shadowy corner beneath the stairs.
Moments of life and death are decided in a flash.

Chen Pan’er slid off Jiang Butong’s back and, grabbing his hand, pulled him up the stairs.
"Can we get out this way? What if they trap us here?"
Jiang Butong glanced over his shoulder and saw two thugs entering—they must have been uncertain if he’d come in, so only sent a couple to check.
Chen Pan’er, deeply familiar with the place, led Jiang Butong to a corner on the second floor.
"Here?"
Jiang Butong, a little out of breath, looked at her.
"Through that opening, you can get to the next building."
She pointed discreetly to the left.
Jiang Butong now noticed the two buildings were connected, only separated by a metal gate.
He held his breath, listening for any sounds outside; Blondie and Scarface’s groups were still scouring the alleys.
"They probably have people stationed below that building, too. We can’t risk it."
Jiang Butong shook his head. Outnumbered, they wouldn’t get far if the exits were guarded.
Chen Pan’er hesitated, her brows knitting together.
"Then what do you suggest?"
Frustration flared in Jiang Butong. In all his life, he’d never been cornered by a bunch of lowlifes. His eyes darted around and landed on an open window.
He peered in—it was someone’s kitchen, with dishes on the counter and a kitchen knife at hand.
Reaching through the security bars, Jiang Butong took the knife.
Chen Pan’er stared at him, startled.
"Are you going to fight?" she asked.
"What else?"
He checked the blade; it was sharp.
"Murder’s a serious crime. Make sure you’re ready for that," Chen Pan’er said, her breathing quickening, gaze fixed on him.
"Don’t worry, I’m not about to kill anyone over a bunch of thugs."
Jiang Butong stuck the knife in his waistband, then picked up a piece of rubble and hurled it hard across the street.
A crash of breaking glass rang out from the opposite building.
"Why smash someone else’s window?"
Chen Pan’er was baffled.
Jiang Butong motioned her to be quiet and crouch.
Shouts of outrage erupted from across the way—someone cursing whoever broke their window in the middle of the night.
In the stillness, the cursing was jarring.
Just as he expected, Blondie and Scarface were drawn by the commotion, waving their men to surround the building across the street.
Chen Pan’er now understood—Jiang Butong was creating a diversion.
At that moment, footsteps echoed in the stairwell—a henchman sent by Scarface was coming to check.
Jiang Butong drew the kitchen knife from his belt.
The thug reached the second floor, and as he rounded the corner, a figure sprang out. Before he could react, something cold pressed against his throat.
"This is a kitchen knife. Don’t move, or I’ll slice your throat," Jiang Butong said, his voice icy.
The thug froze, teeth chattering as the knife pressed against his skin.

"Skinny, is anyone up there?"
A voice called from below, reluctant to climb up.
"You know what to say," Jiang Butong urged, nudging the knife closer until blood welled from the man’s neck.
"No…no one…"
Skinny’s voice quavered.
"Then get down here. What are you dawdling for?"
The man below shouted.
"Say you’re taking a piss—play along, and I’ll let you go," Jiang Butong whispered.
"I…I’m just taking a leak…be down in a sec…"
Chen Pan’er watched Jiang Butong intently; she noticed a new ruthlessness in him, something beyond his years.
"Lazy ass, hurry up and get down here when you’re done!"
The man below shouted again, then joined the others across the way.
As the stairwell fell silent, Jiang Butong shoved Skinny ahead and began to descend, step by step.
Chen Pan’er followed, her heart pounding—one misstep and escape would be impossible.
They were lucky; reaching the ground floor, Chen Pan’er saw no one else around and quietly let out a breath.
"B-brother, can you put that down now?" Skinny stammered, terrified.
"Cut the crap. Get us out of here and I’ll let you go."
Jiang Butong dragged him into a side alley, leading the way out.
Across the street, Blondie and Scarface were arguing with a resident, convinced they were hiding Jiang Butong and demanding to search.
But the resident wasn’t about to back down, and the standoff dragged on.
Once they were clear of the alley, Jiang Butong glanced around—no sign of their pursuers. He lowered the knife.
"Keep your mouth shut. If Blondie asks, say you know nothing. Otherwise, with his temper, you’re finished."
With that, he grabbed Chen Pan’er and ducked into another alley.
Skinny considered calling for backup, but Jiang Butong’s threat echoed in his mind—if Scarface found out, he’d be branded a coward and a loser.
Better just let it go. Skinny slunk back toward Scarface.
Jiang Butong, leading Chen Pan’er, crossed two streets and finally found a quiet corner in a park to rest.
At last, they’d shaken off the riffraff.
Only now did Jiang Butong realize he was still holding Chen Pan’er’s hand—soft and delicate.
Her dark eyes met his, their faces close, breaths mingling.
With a small cough, Jiang Butong broke the silence. "We can’t set up here anymore. We were lucky this time, but we won’t always be."
Chen Pan’er nodded. After a moment, she wrinkled her nose and snorted lightly. "I know this area well enough. If I have to, I’ll just find another place for my stall."