Chapter Fifty-Nine: Emergency Deployment

Liu Jingye’s fury was rising. Children are the future and hope of a nation, of a people. Everything we do is to create better conditions for them, so they may grow up healthy. But now, someone had hijacked a school bus, bringing danger and terror to the children—such a person was beyond forgiveness.

He glanced at the student card hanging from Xiaoqiang’s chest and immediately called Yuan Xiaoying. “The school bus for third graders from Guangming Road Primary School has been hijacked by a suspicious individual. There are forty-five children on board. The suspect’s identity is unclear, but they’re obviously in disguise—possibly related to Huang Xing. Also, the school bus driver is an accomplice.”

“Are you serious?” Yuan Xiaoying asked in confusion.

“Stop wasting time. Act quickly,” Jingye replied sternly. “The bus is heading toward the outskirts, on the road to the zoo. Find a way, but don’t alarm the hijackers—otherwise the children could be in danger.”

“Alright, I’ll notify the leaders right away.” Yuan Xiaoying dared not delay and hung up.

Next, Liu Jingye found the school’s phone number from Xiaoqiang’s student card and dialed. The Director of the Academic Affairs Office answered. Jingye went straight to the point: “Director, I’m the guardian of Qian Xiaoqiang. I just dropped my child off and noticed the school bus driver had changed?”

“No, that can’t be!” the Director replied, puzzled. “Each bus has its assigned driver, and we’re very strict about it.”

“But the driver I saw wasn’t the same as yesterday’s. Please check again,” Jingye insisted.

The Director hung up and soon called back, saying, “I just called the driver’s phone, but a police officer answered. Our driver was found unconscious by the roadside and is being treated in hospital. The police said he was knocked out. What’s going on? Hello—”

Jingye didn’t wait for him to finish and hung up, then spoke to Xiaoqiang.

“All right, Xiaoqiang, you should go home now. Don’t run around. The police will help your classmates.” Jingye smiled. “You did very well—you’re a true man. Remember, whatever happens, don’t cry. And go change your pants, or Xiaohua will tease you.”

“Yes, I understand.” Xiaoqiang looked a bit bashful, then suddenly gave Jingye a crisp Young Pioneer salute, solemnly declaring, “Thank you, Uncle—you must defeat all the bad guys!”

With that, Xiaoqiang ran off. Jingye’s heart surged, filled with fighting spirit.

He had taken part in countless battles, supposedly for home and country, but in truth it was his faith and soldier’s duty. Lately, he’d fought for love, for Wei Xiaorou and Yuan Xiaoying, for friendship with Li Yue, but now he was fighting for children like Xiaoqiang—and truly felt that sense of being needed, the satisfaction after battle.

He rushed home, dug out the violin case from under his bed—in it was the sniper rifle he’d assembled from his days as an assassin. He trusted the police’s abilities, but wanted to do his part. He was prepared, and this was also his promise to Xiaoqiang.

The zoo was in the outskirts, the highway ran along the ring road, and it was a convenient route, though a bit far. Jingye rode his scooter, but as soon as he left the village entrance, the engine stalled and wouldn’t start no matter how hard he kicked.

Just then, a black sedan stopped in front of him. The window rolled down, and a woman in dark sunglasses called, “Sir, need a ride?”

“Huh? An illegal taxi?” Jingye was surprised by the timing.

She nodded. “Yes, fair prices, reliable service—give me some business.”

“Sure!” Jingye jumped in. “Just what I needed. You haven’t been following me, have you?”

The woman paused, showing a row of perfect teeth. “You’re quite the joker, brother.”

Jingye smiled, saying nothing, and glanced around. This was clearly a woman’s car—perfume and bobblehead dolls on the dashboard, a packet of tissues, a row of plush toys stuck to the rear window, and a woman’s suit laid out on the back seat.

The car was worth over a hundred thousand, the suit was a famous brand worth several thousand. Though she wore sunglasses, her skin was fair and smooth, her hair glossy, and her sportswear was branded. She didn’t look like a typical illegal taxi driver.

But she radiated no hostility or murderous intent. Jingye asked, “Isn’t it a bit wasteful to use such a nice car for an illegal taxi?”

The woman replied, perhaps truthfully, “Life’s pressures are too much, income doesn’t cover expenses. Earning a bit extra on the side beats being someone’s kept woman.”

Jingye gave a thumbs-up. “You’ve got backbone.”

“Where are you headed?” she asked. Jingye told her, and she glanced at the violin case on his lap. “Are you a violinist?”

Jingye laughed awkwardly. “Not a violinist—I can play a few tunes, that’s all.”

“Wonderful!” she suddenly grew excited. “I’m a devoted violin enthusiast, though I lack talent. Recently, I’ve been practicing Mendelssohn’s E Minor Concerto, but I struggle with the transition from A minor to F minor—there are some non-chord tones, suspensions and appoggiaturas I just can’t master. Could you give me some pointers?”

What kind of nonsense was this? Jingye felt dizzy. He could identify guns by their sound, but knew nothing about music.

He sensed she was deliberately probing him, trying to expose his identity. Scratching his head, he said, “You can’t learn music performance just by talking. I suggest you keep practicing. Since you love it, stop driving illegal taxis and devote more time—practice will pay off.”

His words held a hidden meaning—she didn’t believe he was a violinist; he didn’t believe she was an illegal taxi driver.

They both smiled, tacitly understanding each other.

The woman drove quickly, turning onto the main road off the ring line. She received a call, and thanks to her phone’s quality, Jingye could hear nothing from the other end.

But her expression suddenly changed, and she exclaimed, “What? Are you sure? Where? Oh, I’m on this road, I’ll get there right away!”

She hung up, and her already speeding car seemed on the verge of flying. Jingye could sense her burning with excitement, though he didn’t know what had triggered it.

Soon, they were stopped by red police tape and a line of flashing patrol cars, forming a barricade across the road.

The woman braked hard and rushed out, speaking briefly to the officers, but was turned back. She returned and made a call, angrily demanding, “I can’t get to the scene—think of something!”

“What’s happening up ahead?” Jingye asked quietly, though he already suspected.

“A school bus has been hijacked—over forty children are on board…” she replied anxiously. “You…”

She wanted to say more, but fell silent. To Jingye, it was clear she wasn’t an illegal taxi driver.

“I’ll get off here,” Jingye said, tossing fifty yuan onto the seat and stepping out.

The woman reached out as if to stop him, but didn’t know what to say. She watched him walk away, curious. Just then, her phone rang again. The caller told her, “Go straight to the incident commander—I’ve already arranged it. We’re allowed exclusive on-site coverage.”

“Got it!” she responded, finally excited, and lifted the back seat cushion, revealing a hidden camera.

She hopped out, ready to rush past the police tape. Suddenly, she remembered Jingye, but when she turned, only the endless road and dense roadside woods greeted her—Jingye had vanished.

“Where did he go?” she wondered aloud. “He must be here for the school bus hijacking. That violin case definitely holds a gun. Ah, what a perfect undercover scoop—he slipped away. No matter, there’s always another day, Liu Jingye!”

Meanwhile, Jingye had already slipped into the roadside forest. Tall trees towered overhead, lush branches, fresh air.

He found the right direction, arriving at the spot where the school bus had been stopped. Without even looking, he knew the situation: the two school buses had reached here, clearly trying to leave the city; the police couldn’t simply subdue the criminals, so they had set up a blockade.

This, in turn, forced the desperados to use the forty children on board as hostages, beginning negotiations with the police.

Jingye nimbly climbed a tree. Through the thick branches, he could see the road. The school bus was surrounded by more than a dozen patrol cars, countless officers crouched behind car doors, guns trained on the bus.

Jingye quickly assembled his sniper rifle, peering through the scope for a clearer view. Inside, a big bearded man stood in the middle of the bus, with the children forced to stand at the windows.

“This bastard is clever—using the kids as shields to prevent an assault,” Jingye cursed bitterly.

The man had his coat open, a dozen grenades hanging from his chest, his face twisted in a vicious grin.

Outside, a middle-aged police officer addressed him through a loudspeaker, reasoning with and appealing to him, persuading him not to harm the children, while trying to calm the children as well.

Both sides were locked in stalemate. More officers soon arrived—SWAT and riot police, plus a swarm of journalists. The journalists were allowed past the police tape but kept ten meters from the center of the incident.

“Damn, with the situation this tense, the leaders still have time for interviews,” Jingye muttered.

But it was clear the police had overwhelming advantage now, with SWAT snipers in position.

The criminals realized things were turning against them—if the snipers were ready, their lives could end in an instant. So, they accelerated negotiations, shooting and wounding a child’s leg, then tossing the child out of the bus.

He hadn’t killed the child—not out of humanity, but to avoid enraging the police completely.

At this point, Jingye was at the peak of his fury. He hadn’t expected the bastard to actually harm innocent children.

“If the kids weren’t blocking the windows, I’d blow your brains out right now!” Jingye growled.

With such aggressive threats, and under the gaze of the journalists, the police were forced to compromise, expanding the perimeter by a dozen meters. Then, the criminals made new demands.