MWC – Chapter 97 Greetings from Hell

I AM DROPPING THIS NOVEL. IF ANYONE WANTS TO CONTINUE THEY CAN. IF POSSIBLE PLEASE SHARE THE LINK SO I CAN BINGE READ TOO.

Renault’s gaze on Lu Ming gradually softened, and then he suddenly smiled and said a few words.

Yang Guiren was taken aback but still had to translate, “Mr. Renault says that you’re not wrong; his father is indeed old, and some of his ideas are outdated.” His face showed a strange expression, as Renault was truly capricious and difficult to read.

Renault continued to speak in his language.

Yang Guiren smiled, “Mr. Wen, Mr. Renault heard that the dancers here are very beautiful. Are there any as beautiful as Nicole Hepburn?”

Wen Liangyu smiled, “How can they compare? Absolutely not.”

Many gossip magazines had reported that Renault had been pursuing Nicole Hepburn but was repeatedly rejected.

At this moment, Lu Ming whispered a few words in Wen Liangyu’s ear.

Wen Liangyu was startled but then laughed and said, “Mr. Renault, everyone, you probably don’t often sing on stage, right? Does anyone like to sing? I’ve closed the dance hall today just for you. Let’s go sing! Let’s try something new today, shall we?”

Before anyone could respond, Renault, after hearing Yang Guiren’s translation, immediately stood up excitedly and said something, looking quite impatient.

Currently, there was no karaoke, and even in dance halls, it was the singers and dancers who performed on stage.

Singing on stage as a guest? It certainly seemed like a novel experience.

Westerners were usually very interested in novel things.

The other cowboys also cheered loudly.

…

The current recording equipment was not something the general public could own, but fortunately, the Wind Bao Club’s dance hall had one.

At this moment, in the corner, a large black box-like recorder with plastic tape reels was slowly rotating.

On the stage, the cowboys were happily singing solos, duets, and even performing cowboy dances together.

Below, at the tables, sat over twenty women in cheongsams, laughing and clapping.

This made the cowboys on stage even more enthusiastic.

Lu Ming sat at a table far by the curtain, quietly watching this scene.

He picked up a cigarette but seemed to have forgotten to bring a lighter. He rarely smoked, only occasionally lighting one when he felt tired and needed to think.

“Click,” a flame appeared, and a silver windproof lighter held by a slender hand was brought to Lu Ming.

Lu Ming turned his head and saw that, without him noticing, a beautiful woman in a blue cheongsam had sat beside him. She looked somewhat familiar.

“Sir, you probably don’t remember me. You came here once before with a Western guest…”

Lu Ming recalled that he had indeed been to this dance hall once, for the Li Mingxuan case, to get information from the forensic assistant Cheng Dalong.

This cheongsam dancer was the one who accompanied Cheng Dalong at that time, though he had forgotten her name.

“Oh, does Cheng Dalong still come to see you?” Lu Ming smiled.

“Not much anymore…” The dancer gently shook her head and then said softly, “Sir, my name is Ah Mei. Could you do me a favor? I know it’s presumptuous…”

Lu Ming waved his hand, “Go ahead…”

“I… I don’t want to do this job anymore. I’ve saved some money and want to go back to my hometown, but I’m afraid… I’m afraid Mr. Wen will be angry…”

Lu Ming nodded, “I’ll talk to him.” He then looked at her, “I wish you a happy life and that you’ll never have to look back.”

Ah Mei was stunned for a moment, and then tears welled up in her eyes, “Thank you, thank you, sir! You… you’re a good person…”

She suddenly leaned over and gently kissed Lu Ming on the cheek.

Lu Ming did not flinch, knowing how much courage such an act must have taken for her because, in her eyes, there was an insurmountable chasm between their social statuses. To voluntarily touch him was an audacious and unimaginable act.

She had no other intention but to express her gratitude.

Lu Ming smiled warmly at her, “Go on, enjoy these last few days of dancing. Dancing should be joyful.”

“Mm!” Ah Mei nodded vigorously, wiped away her tears, and got up, running lightly to join the group of dancers.

Lu Ming picked up a glass from the table, poured some wine, and gently swirled it.

The party was about to end.

Suddenly, there was a cry of alarm. It turned out that Renault had somehow come down from the stage and approached Ah Mei’s table, where she had been clapping for the cowboys. He sat beside her, possibly having noticed her whispering to Lu Ming earlier.

He had been observing Lu Ming all along.

Any woman who had an ambiguous relationship with Lu Ming might excite him.

For some reason, she resisted him, and he immediately slapped Ah Mei to the ground and kicked her hard.

Everyone who tried to dissuade him, including the cowboys, was ruthlessly pushed away by Renault.

Lu Ming watched this scene, slowly draining his glass of wine.

“Bang,” a wine bottle smashed onto Renault’s head.

Then Renault was punched hard in the nose, causing him to fall backward, dazed.

Lu Ming pounced on him, his fists landing heavily on Renault’s face, one punch after another.

The cowboys initially tried to intervene, but some reached for the revolvers on their hips.

“Nobody move! Anyone who moves dies!” Wen Liangyu shouted loudly, having hurriedly returned.

The cowboys didn’t need to understand his language; they could see the black muzzles of the guns pointed at them by the dozen or so black-clad gunmen who had suddenly surrounded them.

They could also feel the cold aura emanating from these men, a numbness to the existence of life.

They were not bluffing. Any wrong move and they would be shot to death.

None of the cowboys dared to move.

Lu Ming slowly stood up. Renault was already lying limp on the ground, his face covered in blood.

“Ptui,” Lu Ming spat a mouthful of saliva onto Renault’s face.

“Trying to steal my woman, you’re courting death!”

In Lu Ming’s heart, a cold voice said, “This is a greeting from hell, for Little Martha and all the other poor souls who have perished at your hands.”