# 410
Chapter 410: Missile
Morning sunlight spilled across the dark asphalt. Traffic lights blinked, engines growled, and the river of cars inched forward.
A black van eased to the curb in front of an office tower.
“You’re really in that much of a hurry? Can’t wait two days and fly with us?” Lin Qiye, in the passenger seat, turned to look at Baili Pangpang in the back.
Baili Pangpang sighed. “Granddad’s birthday banquet is the day after tomorrow. As the sole heir I’ve got to get back early—all those aunts, uncles, and reps from other groups and families are VIPs. I have to greet them myself, and there’s still a ton to set up…”
Cao Yuan’s mouth twitched. “Why do you sound excited about it?”
“Heh, first time I’ve ever run something this big. Dad used to handle everything.” Baili Pangpang grinned.
Lin Qiye nodded. “All right, go on ahead. Jialan’s admission papers and her bow won’t arrive until tomorrow night, and An Qingyu’s experiment needs more time. We’ll head straight to the banquet the day after tomorrow and meet you there.”
He reached back and patted Baili Pangpang’s shoulder. “Remember to dress sharp.”
“Relax! Nobody understands style better than me.” Baili Pangpang chuckled.
He pulled four black-gold envelopes from his pocket and handed them around. The paper felt faintly sanded; under the sun it shimmered with a subdued gold. Embossed in one corner was the Baili Group seal—luxurious and formal.
“Invitations. Flash these at the door and you’re in,” he said. “When you reach Guangzhou–Shenzhen, enjoy the ultra-lux leisure package I lined up for you!”
He checked his watch, yanked the door open, and hopped out.
“See you at the banquet!” He waved, then strode into the building.
Two minutes later a helicopter thudded in, touched down on the rooftop pad, and whisked Baili Pangpang out of sight.
Lin Qiye watched it disappear and turned back.
“Baili Group…” Cao Yuan murmured from the driver’s seat. He’d opened his envelope and scanned the invitation. “Sounds swanky—CEOs, celebrities… Do we wear formal suits?”
Lin Qiye thought. “Probably. Anyone own one?”
“Nope,” Cao Yuan said.
Jialan in the back seat shook her head blankly.
Lin Qiye exhaled. “Fine—mall first, one suit each… And keep the receipts; we’ll make Baili Pangpang reimburse us in Guangzhou.”
…
Whummmm…
The helicopter settled, turbines whining. Rotor-wind whipped Baili Pangpang’s hair as he slipped off his headset, slid on a pair of shades, and walked toward a waiting private jet.
“Good morning, Young Master!” A uniformed stewardess greeted him with a sweet bow.
“Mm.” He nodded behind the sunglasses, then paused. “You are…?”
“Your new personal flight attendant. Call me Xiao Xu.”
“Ah, Xiao Xu…”
He climbed the steps; she followed, sealing the door.
Inside, leather sofas, a conference table, and a bar left plenty of room to move—spacious and opulent.
Baili Pangpang collapsed onto the sofa with a satisfied groan.
Soon the jet roared down the runway and climbed toward Guangzhou–Shenzhen. Once level, Xiao Xu brought over a custom cocktail and set it on the side table.
“So, Dad bought this new bird?” He glanced around, impressed. “Definitely a step up from the old ones.”
“No, this is Young Master Jing’s plane,” she answered gently.
“Baili Jing?” Baili Pangpang blinked. “He already has a private jet?”
“Chairman rewarded him for recent outstanding performance managing the group.”
Baili Pangpang frowned, sipped the drink, and muttered, “I don’t even have one, and that punk beats me to it… He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Baili Jing—adopted son of Chairman Baili Xin, same age as Baili Pangpang—had started at the very bottom after graduation. With brains and business savvy he’d clawed his way to upper management, and when his identity surfaced he gained a loyal following. Chairman Baili often delegated major affairs to him; once Baili Pangpang inherited the group, Jing would be the one actually running it.
“Young Master Jing’s profits for the group cost far more than one jet,” Xiao Xu said with a smile.
Baili Pangpang opened his mouth—then the cabin blurred.
“What…” He gripped the sofa, scowling at the glass, then at her. “You drugged me?!”
“Sorry, Young Master. We can’t let you reach Guangzhou alive.”
WHOOSH—!!
A missile trailing fire streaked across the sky, punched through the layered clouds, and slammed into the speeding jet.
A blinding blossom of flame erupted in mid-air.