Xu Haoran didn't sleep well that night. After hearing everything the woman in the ICU had confessed, his mind wasn't at ease—not out of fear, but because the puzzle was beginning to take shape. His cousin Xu Jianhong was making his move.
The next morning, after finishing his morning chores and preparing a simple breakfast, Haoran left the house quietly. He avoided both Wu Yuting and Zhao Ailin. He didn't need distractions—not today. He stepped outside into the early morning haze and hailed a cab by the curb, stepping in with quiet composure.
"District 9 Industrial Zone," he said.
The driver turned slightly, eyes narrowing. "You sure, brother? That's gang territory. Nothing there but rust, grime, and trouble."
Haoran nodded once. "I'm sure."
The driver exhaled sharply. "Alright, your call. You just don't look like someone heading into Red Fang turf. They don't exactly roll out the welcome mat."
Haoran leaned back. "I won't need one."
As the cab navigated through Cloudbridge's veins of traffic, Haoran mentally reviewed his strategy. He wasn't going there to talk. He was going to provoke. To force answers out. He'd use their arrogance against them.
Two hours passed before the cab finally slowed. "We're close," the driver said, glancing in the mirror.
Haoran sat upright, eyes scanning the abandoned warehouses and rusting fences that marked the outskirts of District 9. The streets were mostly deserted, graffiti-covered walls warning outsiders to stay away.
When they reached a decrepit street corner, Haoran handed over the fare and a tip.
"Here," he said, slipping the driver a card. "Wait for my call. No matter what time."
The driver hesitated, but nodded. "Don't die in there."
Haoran stepped out, scanning the area. Within minutes, two gang members swaggered out of a nearby alley.
"Lost, pretty boy?" one sneered. His leather jacket was half-zipped, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
"I'm looking for Hu Lan."
The two men blinked, then exchanged looks. "And who the hell are you to be calling out the boss's name like that?"
"None of your concern," Haoran replied coldly. "Just take me to him."
The second thug laughed. "You've got guts. You know what we do to people with big mouths?"
More Red Fang members emerged from the shadows, drawn by the confrontation. One stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.
"He needs a lesson. Master Hu doesn't like pests."
The thug lunged, his fist aimed square at Haoran's face—but he never landed the blow.
In a flash, Haoran moved, his elbow crashing into the man's jaw with a sickening crack. The gang member crumpled, teeth scattered like dice across the pavement.
Gasps erupted. Before the rest could react, Haoran was already among them, swift and merciless. Every strike was calculated, his movements precise. He danced between them, avoiding attacks and landing blows that left bodies groaning on the ground.
Within moments, only one was still standing—trembling, wide-eyed.
Haoran grabbed him by the collar. "Take me to Hu Lan. Now."
"Y-Yes! He's... he's in the bar down the street. In the back room."
Haoran released him, motioning him forward. "Lead the way."
They walked through narrow alleys until they reached a rundown bar with boarded-up windows. The thug pointed at a reinforced door in the back.
"He's in there. Please—don't kill me."
Haoran said nothing as the man fled.
Approaching the door, he was met by two massive bodyguards.
"No entry. Private area."
"I'm here for Hu Lan."
"And I'm the emperor of Cloudbridge," one scoffed, reaching out to shove him.
Haoran sidestepped and drove his palm into the man's throat, sending him crashing into the wall. The second tried to grapple him but was flipped over Haoran's shoulder like a ragdoll.
He kicked the door open.
Inside, Hu Lan lounged shirtless on a leather couch, five women tending to him like royalty. Cigars, alcohol, and smoke filled the air.
The moment Haoran stepped in, Hu Lan stood up, furious.
"Who the hell are you?"
"The man whose wife you targeted."
Hu Lan's confusion was brief. His eyes narrowed. "Xu Haoran."
Haoran didn't flinch.
Hu Lan's hand darted toward a hidden gun beneath the table, but Haoran moved first. In two steps he reached the gangster, slammed him against the wall, and pinned him with a knee to the chest.
"Try anything, and I'll break more than your pride," Haoran said, confiscating the pistol.
He dragged Hu Lan to a chair, slammed him down, and pulled a second chair across from him.
"Now talk. Who ordered you to go after my wife?"
Hu Lan coughed, spitting blood. "You're already dead. You just don't know it."
Haoran leveled the pistol at Hu Lan's leg. "Wrong answer."
Hu Lan's façade cracked. "Jianhong. It was Jianhong."
Haoran's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak.
"He's furious your father never handed him control of the Xu family business. Said he'd make both you and your old man pay. First, he'd destroy your pride. Said you were hiding like a coward, depending on your wife. So we were told to make her suffer. Then you."
"And the woman in the hospital?"
Hu Lan nodded. "We used her. She owed us. We thought she'd be enough to scare you out of hiding."
Haoran stood. "Where is Jianhong now?"
"I swear I don't know. Just that he's planning to visit Cloudbridge in two weeks. That's all I've heard."
Haoran stared at him for a long moment. "If you tell Jianhong about this meeting... I'll return. You won't survive that visit."
With a final kick to Hu Lan's arm, he turned and walked out, leaving the gangster groaning on the floor.
Haoran stepped out into the fading light of dusk and called the cab driver.
"Pick me up. Same spot."
When he got home, the sky was already dark. The moment he walked in, he heard the sharp voice of Zhao Ailin.
"Where have you been all day? Gallivanting while we sit at home wondering if you've died in a ditch?"
Wu Yuting looked up from the couch, her expression unreadable. "Are you okay?"
"I went out."
Zhao Ailin scoffed. "What kind of answer is that? Yuting, reduce his allowance. He's clearly spending your hard-earned money on nonsense."
Haoran didn't respond.
"And start preparing, Yuting. My friend's son is back in town. A senior director at Xu Corporation. He's invited us to dinner tomorrow night at The Velvet Crown."
Haoran's eyes flickered at the mention. Xu Corporation. His father's company. So that's the move she was making now?
But he said nothing.
Wu Yuting stood. "Mom, enough. I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm tired of this."
"You don't have a choice! You have no say in this anymore!" Zhao Ailin snapped.
"I said no! Respect my decision—and my marriage."
She stormed off to her room. Zhao Ailin turned her wrath on Haoran.
"Still here? Go wash the dishes. They're piling up, and useless as you are, at least make yourself useful."
Haoran didn't reply. He walked quietly into the kitchen.
His path was clear.