APR 2

“Oh dear! Brother Chen! Xiao Zhong Ge!” Manager Huang dramatically spread his arms, blocking the scene behind him as he offered Chen Huan an apologetic smile. “This… this is truly a huge misunderstanding!”

“Our boss just invited a few friends over to have some fun. Who knew they’d offend the brothers from Jiu Zhong Society…”

“Offend? Manager Huang, do you misunderstand the meaning of ‘offend’? What I heard was that my men had their noses broken and bled all over the floor while collecting debts.” Chen Huan spoke with a smile curling at his lips, leaning down to look at him.

Manager Huang knew Chen Huan wasn’t someone to be fooled, but thinking of Liu Yanhu’s orders, he could only steel himself and continue: “The boss is very sorry about this, but unfortunately he’s currently busy and can’t come personally to apologize. We hope you can be magnanimous and let this matter rest for today. Could you please have the Jiu Zhong Society brothers disperse first?”

“We lowly employees really can’t afford the losses from losing a whole night’s business.” He finished nervously, almost hearing his own heart pounding against his chest. He’d already cursed Liu Yanhu’s ancestors eighteen generations in his mind: That bastard, hiding while pushing me out to face the bombs!

Chen Huan didn’t even lift his eyelids as he walked around the man and headed inside. “Want to apologize? Fine, go call him over. I’ll keep Boss Liu company tonight until this is settled.”

“But… but…”

As Manager Huang managed a trembling sound, Chen Huan made a gesture: “Make the call.”

Manager Huang immediately fell silent.

Chen Huan reached out and pulled Zhong Su close. “Su Er, come on, I see where Shou Hou and the others are. Let’s go sit with them.”

His substantial weight pressed down like a lazy leopard circling its prey. Zhong Su glanced at the hand resting on his shoulder but said nothing.

Watching their retreating backs, Manager Huang knew this matter couldn’t be resolved peacefully today. Wiping cold sweat from his forehead, he beckoned to the head waiter beside him and instructed: “Take the prettiest girls over to the Jiu Zhong Society people. Be humble and say some nice words to stabilize the situation first. Don’t let them cause trouble.”

“Understood, manager.” The head waiter had doubts, but seeing Manager Huang frantically making calls, he could only suppress them and went to select the girls.

In the dim lighting, Zhong Su immediately spotted his society members.

Shou Hou, with his sharp face, high cheekbones, and lanky build that matched his monkey-like appearance, sat at the edge of the booth, his eyes gleaming with shrewd light.

The moment he saw Chen Huan and Zhong Su, he immediately stood up, breaking into a happy yet somewhat embarrassed smile. “Brother Chen, Xiao Zhong Ge, sorry to make you come over again. I originally wanted to handle this with the brothers, but I never expected that bastard Liu Yanhu to be so unreasonable, making things difficult.”

“Since you weren’t here, it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to just smash the place directly. We had to wait for you to make the decision.”

The other underlings also stood up one after another to greet Chen Huan and Zhong Su.

Chen Huan nodded casually. “Everyone sit. Where are they?”

Shou Hou gestured with his chin toward the shadows not far away, where eight or nine men could vaguely be seen glaring fiercely in their direction.

Shou Hou said, “They’re some top enforcers from Longhua. Sending them means they’re determined to fight us to the end.”

From his peripheral vision, Zhong Su caught sight of those thugs covered in dragon and tiger tattoos, recognizing many familiar faces – quite a few of whom had suffered losses at his and Chen Huan’s hands before.

Zhong Su reached out to Chen Huan and said, “Pass me a bottle of liquor.”

He took the bottle, gulped down a large mouthful, feeling his emotions grow agitated as he glared hostilely at the opposite side.

The members of the Longhua Gang began to stir restlessly. One of their underlings, catching a signal from his superior, walked over and sneered at Chen Huan’s table, “I’m ‘Black Dog’ from Longhua. This place is under our society’s protection now. If you know what’s good for you, get lost. Otherwise, don’t blame us for embarrassing you when you’re thrown out.”

As soon as he finished speaking, he was met with a chorus of mocking laughter.

Shou Hou retorted mercilessly, “Save it, you go to hell. Who do you think you are? When our Jiu Zhong Society took over this place, your boss was still in diapers!”

Another underling chimed in mockingly, “Calling yourself ‘Black Dog’—you really are like a dog. Come on, bark for your granddad here, and I’ll throw you a bone.”

Chen Huan exhaled a puff of smoke calmly, blowing it directly into Black Dog’s face. “Bring your master here. You’re not qualified to talk to me.”

“Fuck your mother!” Black Dog, enraged, violently swept the liquor bottles off the table. His face flushed crimson as he charged at Chen Huan.

Chen Huan had anticipated it. He swiftly sidestepped the punch, and as he turned, he grabbed a liquor bottle and smashed it hard against Black Dog’s head.

Chaos erupted instantly. The Longhua Gang members, eyes burning with fury, lunged at their group. Tables and chairs were knocked askew, and liquor splattered everywhere.

“You’re dead today, Chen Huan!”

“If I let you walk out of here unharmed, I’ll take your surname!”

Zhong Su, quick-eyed and deft, seized a thug’s arm from the opposite side, twisted his wrist, and the man let out a piercing scream as his entire arm dislocated.

An underling shattered an empty liquor bottle and drove the sharp glass edge straight into someone’s thigh.

Amid the brawl, Zhong Su heard someone shouting “Stop!” Turning around, he saw Chen Huan had already kicked the opposing leader’s top enforcer up against the bar. “Picking a fight with me? You must be tired of living.”

The enforcer, face covered in blood, raised his hands in terror, trying to block Chen Huan. “Chen Huan, don’t push your luck! Your Jiu Zhong Society is being unreasonable. We already settled this with Boss Liu!”

Chen Huan grinned. “First come, first served—that’s the rule. You settled it without notifying me? Did I agree?”

Nearby, Manager Huang, pale with fear, still had the phone receiver pressed to his ear as he waved his arms frantically. “Brother Chen, please, I beg you, don’t be impulsive! If this keeps up, someone will die!”

Chen Huan shot him a sidelong glance. “Did you call the police?”

Manager Huang choked, unable to reply. He had indeed dialed “999,” but at the same time, the cold voice of the operator came through the receiver: “Patrol officers in the area will head over, but there’s no one nearby who can arrive immediately. They’ll be on site in 30 minutes.”

The next second, the call was cut off unilaterally. Manager Huang stood frozen in place, stunned.

Forget 30 minutes—20 minutes would be enough for both sides to completely renovate the entire Da Huanle’s interior.

Chen Huan, however, let out a cold laugh as if he had expected it. He grabbed an ashtray from the bar and slammed it down on the enforcer’s face.

“Ahhh!”

With a sickening thud, blood splattered from the enforcer’s forehead. His head slumped limply, all signs of life gone.

A Longhua Gang underling, seeing his boss severely injured, burned with rage and roared, charging at Chen Huan from behind. “Die whole family! How dare you touch my boss?”

Zhong Su caught the glint of light reflecting off the broken bottle in the man’s hand. His heart leaped, and he instinctively grabbed a nearby chair, hurling it at the man. “Chen Huan, dodge!”

The man staggered in pain, his movements faltering for a moment. Without even turning his head, Chen Huan delivered a sharp backward elbow strike, shattering the man’s nose bridge.

The thug collapsed to the floor, the broken liquor bottle in his hand clattering down and shattering into countless shards of glass.

Zhong Su went over and pulled Chen Huan to his feet, asking, “Are you okay? I saw the sharp edge aimed at your lower back.”

“I’m fine.”

Chen Huan brushed his hand away and turned to Shou Hou. “Get everyone lying on the floor thrown out. Don’t let them disrupt the business.”

Shou Hou had taken a few hits himself during the chaos, bruises now visible on his face. But upon hearing Chen Huan’s order, he swiftly gathered a few underlings and began clearing the area, dragging the members of the Longhua Gang by their collars like dead dogs out of the dance hall.

Manager Huang cowered behind a pillar, wishing he could turn invisible. Yet Chen Huan’s gaze still fell upon him.

Chen Huan gestured to him. “Manager Huang, come here. Let’s have a word.”

Manager Huang trembled slightly, reluctantly shuffling over to stand before Chen Huan.

He pulled out a lighter and lit a cigarette for Chen Huan, forcing an ingratiating smile. “What can I do for you, Brother Chen?”

Chen Huan flicked the ash from his cigarette, his eyes dark and intense. “I’m an impatient man. I hate it when people lie to my face and go back on their promises.”

“Give me a straight answer. What exactly are you planning?”

Manager Huang caught sight of the blood on Chen Huan’s hand and flinched. “Of—of course, we’ll follow the rules.”

He called over the head waiter. “A Chen, go to accounting and get this month’s red envelope. Don’t keep Brother Chen waiting.”

“Understood, Manager.”

Manager Huang presented a bulging red envelope to Chen Huan with both hand, its weight clearly double the usual amount.

He rubbed his hands together awkwardly. “So sorry for the little misunderstanding. The extra is for tea, as an apology. We still hope the brothers of the Jiu Zhong Society will continue to look after our dance hall’s business.”

Chen Huan weighed it in his hand before turning and handing it to Shou Hou. “Take it back for the accounts.”

Shou Hou acknowledged briskly and tucked the red envelope into his chest pocket.

The dance hall was now in complete disarray, the floor littered with spilled alcohol and broken glass. The once-bustling dance floor stood empty, all the guests having fled during the earlier conflict.

Chen Huan had his men help the dance hall staff set the overturned tables and chairs back in place. He himself leaned lazily against the bar to rest, the collar of his bloodstained shirt hanging open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.

“Su Er, don’t just stand there in the filth. Come over here by me.” Chen Huan waved Zhong Su over. The lighting was too dim to make out his expression clearly.

As Zhong Su approached, he noticed the ashtray Chen Huan had used to strike someone earlier had been placed back on the bar. Chen Huan’s slender fingers held a cigarette, its ash drifting down onto the bloodstains smeared on the ashtray.

Chen Huan glanced at him sideways, leisurely exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Aren’t you going to smoke?”

Zhong Su patted his pockets but found nothing. He sighed and reached out. “I forgot to bring my cigarettes again. Give me one.”

Chen Huan chuckled softly, taking the cigarette that was three-quarters burned and bringing it to Zhong Su’s lips. His gaze burned intently. “No spares left.”

Zhong Su blinked, the cigarette tip’s glow casting shadows across his handsome brow—a sight that stirred something restless in one’s heart. In leaner years, sharing a cigarette with Chen Huan had been commonplace; once accustomed to it, there was no awkwardness left.

So Zhong Su gripped the filter with his lips, taking the cigarette from between Chen Huan’s fingers. He chuckled low and said, “Ask you for a smoke and you only give half. Fine, better than nothing.”

He took a drag, lowering his gaze to flick the ash.

Only after Zhong Su had the cigarette between his lips did Chen Huan leisurely tap a fresh one from the pack, clamp it between his teeth, and light it.

Smoke curled upward between them. Chen Huan glanced at the shattered glass littering the floor and remarked disdainfully, “I’ve always said these young punks nowadays have no guts. Swinging bottles looks fierce, but it’s useless in a real fight.”

“Maybe.”

Zhong Su shrugged. “But I don’t like using ashtrays—too easy to take things too far.”

Chen Huan neither agreed nor disagreed. “That’s because you lack precision. You only know how to go for the kill.”

Just then, the burly, dark-skinned Da Xiong hurried inside.

He held a bulky mobile phone with its antenna extended, looking somewhat tense as he said, “Brother Chen, Wen Sheng called. Says he needs to speak with you.”

Da Xiong was a man of few words. When the Longhua Gang had come provoking earlier, he hadn’t made a sound, but in the fight, he’d been fiercer than even Shou Hou. After it was over, he’d helped drag away the unconscious Longhua lackeys—a reliable, no-nonsense type.

It was precisely because Chen Huan valued his quiet diligence and lack of gossip that he’d entrusted him with the clunky mobile phone he himself found too bothersome to carry.

“Give me the phone.” Chen Huan took it and stepped aside to answer, his voice dropping to a murmur.

Zhong Su greeted Da Xiong, though his attention remained fixed on Chen Huan, wondering: What could Wen Sheng want with him?

Within the organization, Zhong Su wasn’t as favored as Chen Huan. He rarely received tasks directly from Wen Xiong, the decision-maker, so he couldn’t quite gauge the other’s intentions.

“Xiao Zhong Ge? Didn’t realize you were here too—sorry, my eyes failed me earlier. Didn’t get to say hello.” Da Xiong scratched his chin, his large hands fidgeting uneasily.

He didn’t report to Zhong Su, but he respected him all the same for his sharp skills and principled character.

The call ended quickly. Chen Huan returned, tossed the phone back toward Da Xiong, and looked impassively at Zhong Su. “Su Er, I need to head back to the hall to see Wen Sheng. You’re coming with me.”

Zhong Su was caught off guard. “Now?”

“Now.”