Xiang Ri finally boarded the flight to France, ostensibly as a representative of Xiangri Corporation tasked with inspecting the French branch and negotiating a partnership deal. Accompanying him was a female secretary by the name of Fang.
Affairs back home had been largely settled, though the female police officer had initially opposed his trip with fervent determination. However, after witnessing Xiang Ri's new skill firsthand, she begrudgingly relented, albeit not without sternly urging him to exercise utmost caution. She even suggested he carry a Desert Eagle for protection.
Xiang Ri had immediately rejected the idea. As tempting as it was, airport security was no mere ornament; discovery of such a weapon would inevitably lead to an invitation for tea at the local police station.
To his apprentice, he spun a small lie—claiming he was taking a short overseas trip to relax—and specifically instructed her not to inform Chuchu to avoid causing undue concern.
As for Miss An, who was eager to silence him permanently, Xiang Ri had left her a maddening note: *"Your chest is far too small. I'm traveling abroad to see if I can procure some breast enhancement medicine for you."* Of course, he also left behind a reminder for her to move out of her current residence to avoid any further run-ins with assassins.
Once all matters were seen to, Xiang Ri finally boarded the plane with a clear conscience. It was not, however, the Empress's private jet—her exclusive aircraft had departed hours earlier.
Still, Xiang Ri wasn't concerned about locating her; in his possession was a private contact number for Her Majesty, generously provided by the police officer. It seemed the Empress, grateful for the officer's care, had given her the number as a gesture of friendship, inviting her to visit France someday so she might act as a proper host.
Onboard, traveling alone could indeed be tedious. Despite the fact that Xiang Ri's seatmate was a stunning woman with an impressive 36F figure, she maintained the demeanor of a statue—lips pursed, radiating indifference, and clearly disinterested in engaging him. Xiang Ri, reluctant to force conversation, picked up a newspaper offered by a passing flight attendant to pass the time.
But as he unfolded the paper, the woman beside him let out a derisive snort. "Do you even understand French?" she asked coldly.
Xiang Ri shot her a sidelong glance, feigning surprise. "Is someone speaking to me?"
"You—" Secretary Fang was momentarily at a loss for words, her anger causing her to spin her head away abruptly.
Fang Yingying had no desire to travel with a notorious playboy. However, her superior had insisted on the importance of this mission, emphasizing that success would greatly benefit the company's Paris branch. Thus, she had no choice but to endure this arrangement.
From the moment they boarded, she had been secretly observing Xiang Ri, relishing how her icy glare stifled his repeated attempts to initiate conversation. His evident frustration brought her a petty sense of satisfaction. Yet now, his flippant response left her feeling inexplicably aggrieved.
"Stop bickering with me and just enjoy the beautiful sky outside," Xiang Ri finally said, looking up briefly before returning to his newspaper.
Fang Yingying, her annoyance mounting, sneered, "Some people pretend to know what they don't. Reading French? What a joke."
To her, it was impossible for this hedonistic wastrel to understand anything beyond his native language. In fact, she was certain her role on this trip extended beyond negotiations—she would likely be serving as his interpreter as well.
"Do you know something?" Xiang Ri ignored her mockery, nonchalantly folding the newspaper and speaking in a light, conversational tone. "You're actually quite attractive. Great figure, too…" He paused deliberately, pretending not to notice Fang Yingying's darkening expression, and sighed. "But it's a shame your temper's so bad. And that you have such a wild imagination. If I were your husband—"
"Too bad you're not!" Fang interrupted him coldly, cutting his words short.
"It was just a metaphor—"
"Even in metaphor, it's impossible! Let me make this clear: I would rather marry a pig or a dog than marry you!" Fang Yingying declared vehemently, shrinking further into her seat as though proximity to him might taint her.
Her voice, unfortunately, was loud enough to draw the attention of nearby passengers, whose curious stares now turned toward them.
Publicly rejected by a woman—despite having no such intentions—Xiang Ri couldn't help but feel his pride bruised. "Who wants to marry you? I wouldn't take you if you begged!" he retorted before shutting his eyes to feign sleep, refusing to engage further.
Fang Yingying turned to gaze out the window, her anger simmering silently. Their mutual silence soon quelled the interest of nearby passengers, who returned to their own diversions. Only a few men lingered, their gazes unabashedly fixated on the voluptuous secretary.
Just then, four tall men rose from their seats. Without warning, they drew pistols, each man pointing his weapon in a different direction. One of them bellowed, "This is a robbery! Nobody move!"
The previously lively atmosphere froze instantly at the robbers' shouted command. After a stunned silence, passengers finally reacted with shrieks and cries, some timid women already reduced to tears. Yet such fear did not earn the robbers' sympathy—on the contrary, they silenced the loudest with brutal blows from their rifle butts, ensuring an uneasy quiet fell over the cabin.
Xiang Ri had opened his eyes the moment "robbery" was shouted, though his composure remained unshaken. Calmly seated, he glanced at the woman beside him. Though she tried her best to maintain control, her pale face and the slight trembling of her body betrayed her fear. However, when she noticed his gaze, she shot him a fierce glare, as if the anger alone was enough to steady her nerves.
Amused, Xiang Ri thought, *Does glaring at me somehow dispel her fear?* He doubted he exuded such a reassuring presence.
It didn't take long for him to understand. Seeing his unperturbed demeanor, this prideful woman was likely forcing herself to remain calm, unwilling to appear weaker than him. How ridiculous—her vanity might be the strongest weapon she possessed right now.
Yet Xiang Ri's mind lingered on another question: how had these fools smuggled guns onto the plane? Airport security systems were no mere decorations—otherwise, he himself would have been carrying his trusty Desert Eagle to France by now.
There was no time to dwell further, for one of the gunmen—a white man who appeared to be their leader—shouted again, his voice booming through the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have no wish to harm you. Cooperate with us, and I promise you'll remain unharmed. Now, listen carefully—this is an order, not a request. Any hesitation will earn you a bullet, do you understand? Empty your pockets of anything valuable. Dollars, pounds, euros—I'll take them all. Oh, and credit cards, too. Don't miss a single one!"
At his command, two of the robbers stepped forward, each holding a plastic bag, and began walking down the aisles to collect their plunder.
Xiang Ri's eyes narrowed, his expression growing more pensive. He didn't believe that anyone audacious enough to rob a plane would risk everything for mere pocket change. Even the most desperate wouldn't attempt something so foolhardy. If they truly sought profit, they would hijack the aircraft and demand a ransom—something far more lucrative.
No, these men clearly had a different agenda. Their sloppy theatrics and half-hearted robbery only confirmed his suspicion: they were here for something specific.
Passengers reluctantly surrendered their valuables, tossing wallets, cash, and jewelry into the robbers' plastic bags under the looming threat of the guns. The woman beside Xiang Ri grew visibly more agitated as the men drew closer, her fingers clutching her purse so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
*What on earth is in that bag?* Xiang Ri wondered, his curiosity piqued.
Suddenly, a furious voice barked from a few rows ahead: "Hand it over!" The demand was in English, not French, catching Xiang Ri's attention. His gaze shifted toward the commotion.
A burly black gunman stood glaring at an elderly white man with silver-rimmed glasses and a bald pate—a scholarly figure who appeared to be in his seventies. "W-what do you want?" the old man stammered, visibly trembling.
"Don't play dumb with me!" the black gunman snarled, his face twisting with menace. "Valuables! Hand them over!"
"I've already given you everything!" the old man protested, panic flashing in his eyes.
"Liar!" The gunman's eyes darkened. "What's that black bag in your hand?"
The old man flinched, his voice faltering. "That—that's just my research notes. They're psychology papers."
"Give it to me!" The robber lunged forward, snatching the bag from the man's grasp. He rifled through its contents and froze when he spotted a small blue notebook with a plain cover. His eyes gleamed with triumph, and he exchanged a knowing glance with the white leader, who gave an imperceptible nod.
Without another word, the black gunman slipped the blue notebook into the plastic bag, then smashed the butt of his rifle into the old man's temple. Blood spattered across nearby passengers as the elderly scholar crumpled into his seat, his breathing ragged and faint.
Xiang Ri watched the exchange closely, catching the subtle signals and expressions that others might have missed. From his vantage point, it was clear: this was no ordinary robbery. The old man's bag—and particularly that blue notebook—had been their true target all along. The rest of the robbery was merely an elaborate ruse, designed to mask their real intentions.
*Interesting,* Xiang Ri thought, his pulse quickening. For these men to abandon the far more lucrative option of a full hijacking, the contents of that notebook must be unimaginably valuable—worth far more than a ransom for the plane.
At that thought, Xiang Ri's lips curled faintly, his eyes alight with greed and intrigue.