Chapter Two: Hitting the Jackpot—A Hijacking Occurs

Moreover, Long Fei was even more unwilling to let anyone discover the location of the small mountain village where he lived. The Dragon Lady certainly couldn’t come help him fly a plane, and Long Fei himself had no idea how to operate such a thing.

The AK-47, due to its low price and accessibility to ordinary people, along with its power, wide range, and excellent burst-fire capability, had become a favorite among terrorist organizations. It was one of the most common and widespread weapons in their arsenals.

Faced with such a scene, the first thought in people's minds was inevitably a hijacking by terrorists. Although India’s terrorist groups hadn’t made it into the world’s top ten, their sheer numbers placed them among the highest globally. In recent years, especially after hardline military organizations like the Mujahideen and the Devout Army joined forces with the Mujahideen Guerrillas, their power had increased dramatically. In India, hijacking a plane seemed easier than a cheetah hunting an antelope.

Inside the cabin, screams of terror erupted. Even the flight attendants could no longer maintain their professional smiles, their faces ashen with fear, much like the more timid female passengers. As for the men, they fared no better—each one obediently clasped his hands over his head and bowed low, not daring to move.

Glancing at the beautiful woman beside him, Long Fei noted, as he’d expected, that Hou Mengdie’s face was pale, her body trembling slightly. Pity welled up in him. Looking behind him, the two bodyguards already had their heads down. Perhaps they knew some martial arts, but they’d clearly never faced armed terrorists before—understandable, Long Fei thought, given their behavior.

One of the gunmen shouted unintelligibly, likely ordering everyone to behave themselves.

Long Fei complied, lowering his head, but then turned to Hou Mengdie and whispered with a slight smile, “Don’t be afraid.”

Hou Mengdie was startled, finally noticing that the man beside her was actually smiling. She couldn’t understand how Long Fei could still manage to smile in such a situation. Didn’t he realize they were now hostages to terrorists? Didn’t he know that the slightest misstep could earn him a hail of bullets from these ruthless men?

Suddenly, the plane shuddered violently, then tilted sharply. The terrified passengers began to scream hysterically, tension in the cabin escalating to a fever pitch.

A flight attendant was called over to join the others, herded together. Long Fei gently pushed the service cart behind him to avoid spilling drinks on himself, but his movement caused several bottled beverages to crash to the floor, some shattering and splashing onto the two bodyguards. At this moment, though, the bodyguards dared not protest, only frowning and silently holding a grudge.

Long Fei looked out the window; the plane’s course had definitely changed.

Just then, the intercom crackled to life:

“Attention, passengers. The plane has been hijacked and is currently en route back to Madras International Airport in India. To avoid any accidents, please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened and do not move around. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee your safety. I am the co-pilot of this flight and the mastermind behind this hijacking. Please cooperate!”

Perhaps fearing that people didn’t understand, the somewhat long-winded captain repeated the message in clumsy Mandarin.

It turned out this hijacking was orchestrated by the Devout Army. Not long before, the organization’s second-in-command, Hafir, had been captured by the Indian government. In an attempt to rescue him, they decided to take hostages and negotiate. This particular flight was chosen specifically because of Hou Mengdie—having her as a bargaining chip, they believed, would force the Indian government to compromise, as her influence was significant. If anything happened to her, the Indian government would have a hard time explaining it to China.

After the announcement, the cabin gradually quieted. Now that they understood the terrorists’ motives, the passengers were less panicked. Besides, with cold gun barrels pointed at them, silence was their only option if they wanted to survive. Who didn’t want to live? So everyone obediently clasped their hands over their heads, pressing them against the seatbacks in front, not daring to make a sound.

Long Fei turned his head and, curious, whispered to Hou Mengdie, “Hey, do you know who Hou Mengdie is? What does she do? Is she famous?”

Hou Mengdie was in turmoil—how could she not be, a hostage in the hands of terrorists? Long Fei’s question only made her more exasperated, and she muttered irritably, “I don’t know.”

Long Fei grunted in annoyance, complaining, “What damn rotten luck. If they want a hostage, why not just take Hou Mengdie? Why drag us into this mess? Damn it!”

Hou Mengdie nearly cursed him out, but seeing several men with submachine guns approaching, she realized they were coming for her. She could only glare at Long Fei with a mixture of helplessness and contempt.

Despair settled over Hou Mengdie. The bodyguards behind her were useless, and no one else in the cabin could help. All she could do was pray these terrorists wouldn’t do anything beastly to her, and that the government would rescue them soon.

Long Fei was puzzled—why were these men coming toward him? He wasn’t Hou Mengdie.

“Miss Hou, it’s an honor to meet you under these circumstances. I hope you’ll cooperate with us. You’re a big star in the entertainment world; we won’t harm you, provided you do as we say,” said a middle-aged man, pressing his palms together in a respectful gesture toward Hou Mengdie.

Suddenly, Long Fei realized and looked up at Hou Mengdie in surprise. “So you’re Hou Mengdie?”

Strangely, Hou Mengdie wasn’t as frightened as before. Seeing Long Fei’s expression, she felt a touch of satisfaction and sneered, “That’s right, I am.”

“Heh, so you’re the one who got us into this mess. But since you’re such a beauty, fine—if you want to get home safely, just tell me. Maybe I can help you!” Long Fei said, utterly unconcerned by the armed hijackers nearby.

“Of course I want to go home safely, but I despise men who talk big and do nothing,” Hou Mengdie shot him a disdainful look. Yet, seeing Long Fei so unfazed by the hijackers, she couldn’t tell whether to admire his courage or call him a fool.

“Damn it, shoot him and toss him out!” the middle-aged hijacker ordered coldly, unable to tolerate Long Fei's arrogance.

A gunman raised his weapon, aiming it at Long Fei. Everyone, hearing this, felt a touch of schadenfreude—a man who dared tease their idol deserved what was coming.

Long Fei stood up, his hands relaxed at his sides, grinning so broadly that the hijackers were momentarily taken aback.

“Wait!”

At the crucial moment, it was Hou Mengdie who spoke up.

“The person you want is me. There’s no need to hurt anyone else. If you harm innocent people, I won’t cooperate with you even if it means my death. I believe you need a living Hou Mengdie. If I die, the Indian government won’t let you go, and neither will China!” Hou Mengdie became more composed and courageous as she spoke, even managing a faint smile.

This woman truly was beautiful when she smiled, Long Fei thought to himself.

(Congratulations to Yu’er on the successful launch of the new book! Flowers and votes are most welcome, but above all, don’t forget to bookmark!)