He Wu was seated in the chair at the center of the room.

He was on the heavier side, with round eyes and full, pale flesh padding both cheeks. He wore a smile on his face more often than not — at first glance, there was nothing menacing about his appearance; if anything, he looked affable and simple-natured.

But Jiang Cheng knew that He Wu could smile exactly like this even while killing someone.

He Wu drew on a cigar, his manner easy and unhurried. “A’Cheng,” he said, “you haven’t been honest with me.”

The words had barely left his mouth before the man beside him snatched up a baseball bat and swung it at Jiang Cheng with full force.

There was no time to dodge. In that instant, pain detonated across the top of his head, and Jiang Cheng’s vision went pitch black as he crashed headlong to the floor.

The room spun violently around him. The only thing he could make out was the light on the ceiling, radiating blurred halos that kept pulling away, distorting.

The pain had reached such an extreme that he couldn’t even cry out. The ringing in his ears lasted well over half a minute before Jiang Cheng gradually found his way back to consciousness.

Stay lucid. He had to stay lucid.

Jiang Cheng swayed, hauling himself up off the floor. Thick, dark blood ran steadily down along his brow bone.

He heaved for breath and forced the words out with great difficulty. “Boss, I don’t understand—”

“A’Cheng, I’ve always admired you — you know that,” He Wu said. He spoke the way he always did: measured, unhurried, like a patient elder dispensing careful counsel. “But you shouldn’t have gone after Zhengtian.”

“He’s my cousin. Useless as he is, rotten as his behavior can be — he’s still blood. Family asked me to look after him. Now you’ve had him thrown inside, and I have a very hard time explaining that.”

“Me — go after Lai Zhengtian?” Cold sweat broke out along Jiang Cheng’s spine, but a low laugh escaped him all the same. He nodded without hesitation. “True enough. If he weren’t your cousin, I’d have finished him off long ago.”

“You’ve got some nerve saying that!” The man holding the baseball bat shouted at Jiang Cheng. “Was it you who set Lai up and framed him?”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes went cold. He raised his hand and wiped the blood from his brow, his expression rendered all the more fearsome by the pain. He looked at the man and said in a low, flat voice, “I’m talking to the boss. Dogs don’t bark when they’re not spoken to.” He then pointed at his own wound. “Remember this.”

“You—!”

Something shifted in the man — without quite knowing why, his nerve broke.

Jiang Cheng showed not a single trace of guilt or anxiety. Could it truly be that he hadn’t done it?

Jiang Cheng had no interest in the man. He shut his eyes, gave his head a slow shake, and finally forced down the nauseating wave of dizziness.

He turned to face He Wu and pressed on. “Since everyone’s here — they’ve all witnessed firsthand how much trouble Lai Zhengtian has stirred up over the years, how many deals he’s torpedoed. Boss, your brothers follow you to build a future, not to clean up after him.”

A muscle twitched faintly around He Wu’s eyes.

“I set him up and framed him?” Jiang Cheng said, with a smile. “He killed someone — did I force his hand? The kid was barely a pup, scared out of his wits. He knew I used to be a cop, so he called me asking what to do. I had a brother standing right beside me at the time — it was me who told him how to handle the body, how to dodge the police investigation.”

Someone spoke up in Jiang Cheng’s defense. “I was there. I can vouch for it — Cheng was genuinely trying to help Lai.”

“I wasn’t helping him,” Jiang Cheng said, cutting that off. “I was helping you.” His eyes were bloodshot as they fixed on He Wu. “I’ve done two years inside. When your brother He Wen was getting pushed around in there, I took the beatings in his place. I had a knife put in my lower back because I was protecting him. After I got out, you brought me in and let me work with you. Every step I’ve taken to get to where I am today — I wasn’t chasing money. I was chasing loyalty.”

“When the force threw me out, you gave me a way forward and gave me back my dignity. I’ve never forgotten that debt. If it weren’t for that — if it weren’t for your sake — Lai Zhengtian wouldn’t just be sitting in a cell right now. I’d have put him in the ground.”

Silence.

They all knew Jiang Cheng was a man of his word. Ever since he’d come to He Wu’s side, whenever anyone had a problem that needed sorting, Jiang Cheng always had the means to make it go away. Many of them owed him favors of their own. Hearing him now, a ripple of doubt moved through them.

And there was no getting around it — Lai Zhengtian had crossed too many lines over the years. He Wu had gone to bat for him time and again, and while no one had said anything out loud, the resentment had been quietly building.

A voice rose from among the crowd, speaking in Jiang Cheng’s favor. “Boss, let’s get the facts straight before we draw any conclusions.”

“I trust Cheng. Him and Lai never got along — everyone knows that — but he never played dirty.”

“I trust him too. He’s not that kind of person…”

He Wu suddenly laughed. “Oh? Is that so — are you all looking to make him your new boss?”

The room went cold. Every voice dried up at once. A heavy silence fell over the hall.

The blood from the gash above Jiang Cheng’s temple was still running. The dull, thudding pain, wave after wave, was actually sharpening his mind. He breathed through it and said, “Boss, there’s no need to frighten them. Whatever I didn’t do, no one can pin on me by force. Nobody needs to speak on my behalf.”

Jiang Cheng reached toward his pocket.

He Wu’s bodyguard raised a gun instantly. “Don’t move.”

“Lai San’er went down,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice steady. “He was like a brother to you — it’s natural you’d want to answer for him. But I want you to know — do you have any idea how he saw you?”

He Wu’s expression went still. He tapped one finger, signaling Jiang Cheng to continue.

From his pocket, Jiang Cheng produced a keychain — shaped like a small penguin. He pulled off the outer shell to reveal a USB drive inside.

“Guan Ling was killed because she secretly filmed what’s on this.”

Someone brought over a laptop. The USB was inserted. Inside was a single video file. It was opened, and the screen was angled toward He Wu.

No one else could see what was on screen — but every word of the audio came through with perfect clarity.

“All you have to do is stamp the approval documents. Simple as that. Once it’s done, I’ll cut you three million.”

The voice was Lai Zhengtian’s, laced with the faint crackling of electrical interference.

“And Boss He doesn’t know about this?” Another man’s voice, speaking with Lai Zhengtian.

Lai Zhengtian let out a dismissive sound. “I can handle things on my own. Why does he need to be in on everything? Honestly, there comes a time when a man has to admit he’s past his prime. My cousin’s fine in every other way — but he’s too old, no fire left in him. When it’s time to step aside, you step aside. Leave more room for the rest of us.”

The other man broke into laughter. “You’ve got ambition, kid. I like ambitious people. He Wu — always looking over his shoulder, always second-guessing himself. He ought to go home and retire.”

“You flatter me. I just want to make money. This is a good piece of business — if my cousin won’t take it, someone else will. …So it may as well be me.”

“It’s settled then — three million.”

“No problem. And besides the three million — there’s the woman. How was she? Exciting enough? A woman like that is a lot more fun than a respectable girl, I’ll tell you that. Hit her, and she screams even louder.”

Laughter filled the recording, cut through with the bright clink of glasses.

“Here’s to a fruitful partnership.”

He Wu’s expression had been growing tighter and tighter. In the end, he could hold it no longer — his hand slashed through the air with brutal force. The laptop smashed to the floor, screen and sound cut off together.

“That’s not all,” Jiang Cheng said.

He turned and looked behind him. Two men were carrying a body in from outside.

The faces of everyone present shifted at once. The room erupted. “What is this?”

“Him too. He knew about the deal.” Jiang Cheng said. “He came to me today, demanding I hand over the video — otherwise he’d go to you and accuse me of being an informant.” His eyes fixed on He Wu. “Boss — if you don’t trust me, I’ll walk out of here right now. But I spent enough years swallowing indignity in the police force. I’m not going to stand here and let every piece of filth take a turn walking over me.”

As he said it, he turned his head and looked directly at the man who had attacked him with the bat.

A sharp, needle-like fear shot up the man’s spine. He trembled, his eyes darting between He Wu and Jiang Cheng.

He Wu rose from his chair. He studied Jiang Cheng for a long, quiet moment. The loose flesh of his face twitched several times before he spoke. “A’Cheng. I’m old, and my judgment failed me. I owe you an apology for today.”

Silence.

“From now on, Lai San’er’s position — it’s yours.”

He Wu moved with steady steps, his bodyguards flanking him as he walked toward Jiang Cheng. At last, he raised his hand and placed it on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “Go get that wound looked after. In a few days, I’ll take you to meet someone.”

With that, He Wu left the Phoenix Flame Bar.

Jiang Cheng listened until the sound of the car engine faded into the distance. Then he closed his eyes, exhaled slowly from deep in his chest, and pressed his trembling fingers tight into his palms.

His back was drenched in sweat. His expression was as cold and hard as ice. His gaze swept around the room once before landing on the man who had swung the bat at him.

“Do you remember,” he said, “what I told you just now?”

The veins on the back of his hand stood out sharply as he drove his foot into the man’s stomach.

The man never saw it coming. His face contorted with pain as he buckled and went down, clutching his abdomen.

But Jiang Cheng wasn’t finished.

He was on him in an instant, fists closed like iron, slamming into the man’s face — blow after blow, each one heavy and merciless.

The man’s head was knocked sideways. Blood foamed freely from his mouth and nose, and he lost consciousness under the assault not long after.

Someone rushed over and grabbed Jiang Cheng by the arms. “Cheng, Cheng — enough, stop — that’s enough! You need to worry about yourself!”

“What are you all standing around for — get the doctor!”

With someone supporting him on each side, Jiang Cheng collapsed heavily onto the sofa.

He fought for breath in ragged heaves. The smell of iron rose from his nose and throat. His stomach churned and convulsed, the nausea threatening to overwhelm him. The moment he closed his eyes, dizziness came roaring back — thick and suffocating. Now that his guard had dropped, his mind and reflexes moved nothing like the sharpness he’d maintained moments ago.

Darkness rolled in from every direction, like a hallucination, like something real. He heard a voice asking him —

“Got yourself wrecked again? Don’t you think you’ve been alive long enough?”

“I’m tough. I’m not going anywhere.” He was pleased with himself, his fingers threading through the girl’s long hair. “I can’t leave you a widow.”

“I wouldn’t be a widow.” She arched a brow, looking away as if it were of no particular concern. “I’m very adaptable. I’d turn around and marry someone else.”

He was genuinely taken aback. “Oh, really? That’s the treatment I get? You chased me down and now you don’t appreciate what you’ve caught. Toying with a young man’s heart.”

“…Drop dead.”

She came to him and cupped his face in both hands, kissed him, let her sharp teeth break the skin of his lip.

Then she said, with absolute seriousness: “Promise me. Don’t throw your life away. Don’t get hurt again.”

I will. I promise I will, he thought.

Pale light grazed across the bridge of Jiang Cheng’s nose, casting a small sliver of shadow. Eyes closed, his lips moved — barely a sound.

He called out: “Xiao Wu…”