Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

After escaping, Wendi Qian will definitely take the hundreds of millions of dollars worth of bonds that Robinson had hidden.

Humans inevitably share the same weakness: they always think that a royal bed is not as good as a dog's kennel, and there's also the saying that it's darkest under the lamp.

The property, along with the adjacent unit, was registered under the name of a deceased distant relative of Wendi Qian, and had never appeared in any records of his association with anyone else.

This was also Zhang Wenjie's way of "unintentionally" leaving Qian Wendi some space and a sense of security to handle the money on her own. There was nowhere safer than her own "home" that no one knew about.

The numbers on the bonds look great, but there's a problem that needs to be addressed by a specialized institution.

The bearer bonds held by Robinson were not issued by UBS, but by an independent Swiss bank. There is no branch in Hong Kong to handle them, and to exchange them, one must go to an institution in Switzerland or another region.

Of course, you can also find a middleman to handle it, but the fees they charge are... enough to make you bleed.

He's just a conman, do you really think he's omnipotent?

Even if Wendi Qian has extensive connections, it would still take time and opportunity for him to quietly sell off such a hot commodity.

Zhang Wenjie squatted in the center of the small living room, his eyes like a precise scanner, slowly and meticulously scanning every corner.

Gaps in sofa cushions, under coffee tables, behind cheap decorative paintings on the wall...

Finally, his gaze settled on the old, brownish-red low cabinet beneath the television.

"Does he really think that the darkest place is always right..." he sneered inwardly.

The low cabinet showed obvious signs of having been moved recently. The cabinet legs did not align with the outline of the dust on the floor tiles, and there were several fresh, very fine drag marks on the floor tiles on one side of the cabinet.

He glanced again at the inside of the door, where there were five different types of locks, ranging from traditional brass padlocks to modern spring locks.

Zhang Wenjie shook his head, unable to understand where Qian Wendi got her confidence from.

Can you lock the door, but can you also lock people's hearts and methods?

He put on thin rubber gloves and walked to the low cabinet, but did not move it directly.

As I slowly traced the top edge of the cabinet with my fingertips, I noticed a subtle change in texture near the inside corner close to the wall.

He gently scratched with his fingernail, and a thin piece of wood, exactly the same color and texture as the top of the cabinet, was lifted up, revealing a shallow groove underneath.

A stack of documents, sealed in a plastic bag, lay quietly inside.

By the dim light filtering in from the window, one could see the intricate patterns and German text printed on the cover.

"It came so easily..." Zhang Wenjie's lips curled up slightly, but there was no smile in his eyes.

He took out another replica from his bag, which was extremely similar in size, thickness, and even appearance, placed it in the groove, and pressed the cleverly disguised piece of wood back into place.

The whole process took less than ten seconds.

He restored the cabinet to its original state, stepped back two paces to examine it, and confirmed that everything was in order.

Then he took out a miniature camera, about the size of a button, from his bag and cleverly installed it in the shadows next to a power outlet high up, with the lens pointing directly at the low cabinet and the door.

After doing all this, he quietly climbed out the window, just as he had come in.

Standing on the edge of the narrow balcony, below was the dark ground.

Without any hesitation, he bent his knees and leaped out again!

My body plummeted rapidly, the night wind whistling past my ears.

When he was about two meters away from the ground, he suddenly curled up, hugged his bent knees with both hands, and his whole body spun rapidly in the air like a top!

The force generated by the rotation cleverly deflected the object and slowed the descent.

The next moment, he stretched out his body, his toes touching the ground first, followed by the arches of his feet, ankles, and knees bending in sequence, perfectly absorbing all the impact, making only a slight "plop" sound, like a cat jumping down from a height.

Following the shadows at the base of the wall, he quickly returned to the banyan tree, opened the passenger door of the van, and slipped inside.

"Drive." The voice was calm and even, yet carried an undeniable coldness.

"Uh..." Fatty Wang had his mouth open, seemingly wanting to ask what had happened, but in the dim light inside the carriage, Zhang Wenjie's expressionless profile, which seemed to still be tinged with the chill of the outside air, made him swallow all his words, only turning into a tense bobbing of his Adam's apple.

"Where...where to?" The fat man turned the key to start the engine, his voice a little hoarse. That's the important thing; even a driver needs a destination!

"The usual place," Zhang Wenjie uttered, knocking a cigarette out of the pack, putting it in his mouth, but not lighting it.

The so-called "old place" is actually a place where Zhang Wenjie lived for several years. It is an abandoned three-story stone building located on the edge of the New Territories that has been included in the demolition plan but has not been moved yet.

The place used to be a gathering place for other homeless people and drug addicts, but after Zhang Wenjie used some "methods" to clean it up and "correct" it, it became his exclusive stronghold that he would occasionally return to.

"That place hasn't been demolished yet?" The fat man turned the steering wheel, and the car drove out of the narrow alley and rejoined the sparse traffic.

"What do you think?" Zhang Wenjie's tone was devoid of emotion.

"No way, Brother Jie, you said you'd give me capital to start my business, and you're still living there?"

The fat man couldn't help but glance at him again; the general manager's extravagant fantasies seemed to be shrouded in a layer of realistic gloom.

"Who said I live there?" Zhang Wenjie finally pulled out a lighter, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and slowly exhaled the grayish-white smoke. "I live in a villa now, where everything is done for me. I just asked you to drive me back to get some things."

His explanation only shattered half of Fatty Wang's illusion of him being a "general manager." Would a tycoon living in a villa really come to a place like this in the middle of the night to "retriev something"?

"By the way," Zhang Wenjie suddenly turned his head, his eyes behind the smoke fixed on the fat man, "do you know how to edit?"

It's true that his father was a washed-up erotic film director, but whether his son can edit is another matter entirely. Who knows how many practical skills this fat guy actually inherited?

"Just kidding!" Fatty Wang's voice rose involuntarily as if he'd been stepped on, but then softened under Zhang Wenjie's cold gaze. He chuckled sheepishly, "I... I don't know how to edit, I'm a third-rate... cough cough..."

He had originally intended to adopt a mysterious and inscrutable demeanor to provoke Zhang Wenjie's thirst for knowledge, but instead, he was met with a cold, hard object that was suddenly pressed against his left temple.

The coolness of the metal penetrated the skin and went straight to the brain.

"Fatty..." Zhang Wenjie's voice was frighteningly calm, his hand holding the pistol as steady as a rock, "You should change your bad habit of nagging."

He didn't want to hear any nonsense; he just wanted the fat man to answer his questions, with no other unnecessary syllables whatsoever.