APR 28

Seven years apart, a shocking scar now marred Da Xiong’s face—the tip of his left ear appeared to have been sheared off by a bullet, the cartilage gone, leaving the soft flesh to crumple into an ugly mass. This mangled ear made his already fierce face appear even more menacing.

After being reborn for so long, he had finally encountered a familiar face.

Gazing at the familiar features of his old acquaintance, Zhong Su first felt a wave of relief and joy, but then found himself torn between laughter and tears. To think that a former friend now wanted to “teach him a lesson”—it was all too dramatic.

An unconscious smile tugged at his lips as he tossed aside the bloodied shard of glass, raising his hands in a gesture of peace as he approached Da Xiong. “Big guy, relax. I don’t mean any harm.”

“Da Xiong, I never thought I’d run into you here. Is this your turf? It’s been so long—looks like you’ve been doing well.” Zhong Su’s tone was light, as if catching up with an old friend. “By the way, are you still with Chen Huan? After he moved from Anyou Street, where did he go? I’ve been looking for him everywhere these past few days, but no luck.”

Da Xiong hadn’t expected this young man to know his nickname. Frowning, he eyed Zhong Su warily. “Who are you? You talk pretty boldly. And since when do you get to call Brother Chen by his name?” He was clearly displeased by Zhong Su’s casual use of Chen Huan’s name.

That reply was as good as an admission—he was indeed still working for Chen Huan.

Zhong Su’s smile widened as he did his best to appear friendly, waving a hand dismissively. “No need to be on guard. I’ve known your boss, Chen Huan, for years. We’re more than just acquaintances.”

“I just want to catch up with him, have a chat.” He paused, then added considerately, “Don’t worry, I won’t trouble you to take me. Just give me an address, and I’ll find him myself.”

Zhong Su spoke frankly, but Da Xiong’s expression only grew more peculiar as he listened—knowing Brother Chen, and being close to him?

“Who are you? I don’t remember ever seeing you around Brother Chen.”

“That’s because we were apart for a long time. It’s normal you haven’t met me.” Seeing the other’s skepticism, Zhong Su had no choice but to offer proof. “How about this—I’ll tell you a few things about him, and you see if they match up. Chen Huan used to ride a Yamaha, he only smokes ‘Blue Mist’ cigarettes, and he absolutely hates baijiu—”

At that point, Zhong Su suddenly stopped, realizing he couldn’t list much more.

That man was like a deep, unfathomable well—only the surface-level preferences were visible, while all other thoughts and emotions lay hidden in the lightless depths.

Fortunately, Da Xiong didn’t need further proof. He studied Zhong Su’s face carefully, his gaze lingering on the hazel eyes and the vaguely familiar, handsome features, until a possibility dawned on him.

“Kid, you stay right there. Don’t move.”

He turned aside, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number. Covering his mouth, he spoke respectfully in a low voice, “Brother Chen, sorry to bother you. There’s a kid causing trouble at THE ONE, says he knows you and wants to see you.”

“…Yeah, he looks unfamiliar. I asked, and he seems to know a lot about you—everything he said checks out.”

The person on the other end of the line murmured something quietly.

Da Xiong nodded repeatedly. “Okay, understood.”

He suddenly looked up at Zhong Su. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Zhong Su hesitated for a moment before answering softly, “Zhong Su.”

He wasn’t sure whether Chen Huan would immediately dismiss him as a fraud or prankster upon hearing this name, potentially having Da Xiong send him away.

When Da Xiong heard the name, his expression twisted, facial muscles twitching as if remembering someone no longer present, his eyes flashing with sorrow and nostalgia.

“Brother Chen, the kid says his name is Zhong Su,” Da Xiong reported truthfully to the person on the other end of the phone. There was silence for a long while, just as he thought there would be no response, a tone-devoid voice finally came through the receiver.

Then the call ended.

Confirming he hadn’t misheard—only the dial tone remained—Da Xiong put away his phone and gestured with his chin toward the security guards controlling the situation: “Take these dozen scumbags to the back door. Be efficient but not too rough. We don’t want guests getting a bad impression.”

“Understood.” The guards were clearly experienced in handling such situations, moving into organized action without another word.

Then Da Xiong looked at Zhong Su with complicated eyes: “As for you, come upstairs with me. Brother Chen says he can give you ten minutes.”

Xiao Lao Dao, being hauled up by security, saw Zhong Su about to leave and feared he’d end up like Sang Biao and the others—dragged to some dark back alley for a beating. He immediately struggled frantically, throwing himself at Zhong Su’s feet and clutching his calf tightly while shouting: “I’m coming too! Zhong Su, Zhong Su, take me with you!”

“If this big brute beats you down, at least I’ll know where to collect your body—no, I mean take you to the emergency room!”

His wailing was particularly grating. Da Xiong’s face visibly darkened, his knuckles cracking as he asked Zhong Su: “You know this loser?”

“Consider him a friend.” Though Zhong Su found Xiao Lao Dao troublesome, remembering the help he’d received since his rebirth, he still stepped forward to shield him.

He negotiated with Da Xiong: “He only got beaten earlier—didn’t fight back against anyone or damage anything. Could you make an exception and let him come upstairs with me?”

Glancing down at the chubby figure clinging to his leg, he added helplessly: “I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t cause trouble in front of Chen Huan.”

With Zhong Su speaking to this extent, further refusal would make things awkward. Da Xiong shot a disdainful look at the bruised Xiao Lao Dao and waved at his subordinates: “Let this one go.”

Several burly men released their grip, causing Xiao Lao Dao to thud to the floor before scrambling behind Zhong Su.

Da Xiong couldn’t be bothered with the coward anymore, leading Zhong Su into the club’s private elevator. After swiping his card, he pressed the button for the top floor.

As the elevator doors slowly closed, the cabin ascended smoothly in silence, the small space filled only with the soft ticking of indicator lights and Xiao Lao Dao’s panicked panting.

Watching the floor numbers light up and extinguish in sequence, Da Xiong repeatedly glanced from the corner of his eye at the young man who bore such striking resemblance to someone from the past.

“Kid,” he rasped out of some unknown impulse, “Brother Chen hasn’t been in a good mood lately. Regardless of your relationship with him, I advise you—if you don’t want trouble, better not piss him off.”

At first, Zhong Su didn’t quite grasp it, but after a moment, it dawned on him. A few days ago had been his own “death anniversary.” Given his past relationship with Chen Huan, it was only natural for the other man to be in a foul mood at such a time.

Zhong Su nodded. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Not long after, the elevator reached the top floor. With a soft chime, the metal doors slid silently open.

The shimmering light from the rooftop outdoor pool caught Zhong Su’s eye. Seven or eight people stood by the poolside, but the most striking figure towered half a head above the rest—

The man was dressed in a high-end suit, his features sharp and intense. His hair was slicked back, revealing a smooth forehead. The collar of his black shirt was casually undone, and a dark golden thorn tattoo snaked from the side of his neck down to his collarbone, leaving a dangerous mark against his sun-tanned skin. His entire aura radiated maturity and ruthlessness.

There was no mistaking it—that man was Chen Huan.

Compared to the carefree, rebellious young man from his memories, the Chen Huan of seven years later resembled a lethal weapon, sharp enough to draw blood with a single touch. Every move he made carried a chilling edge.

Zhong Su’s heart felt as if it had been abruptly seized. A mix of wariness toward danger and an indescribable sense of familiarity spread through his chest.

This wasn’t a dream—time had truly passed by so long.

Chen Huan paid no attention to the elevator’s arrival. Instead, he slowly leaned down and asked the plump man kneeling at his feet, “I’ll ask you one last time, Li Sun—where did the investment money go, and how much of the film has been shot?”

His gaze was as sharp as a blade, thick with a bloody aura, as if he intended to strip Li Sun down to the bone, piece by piece.

As a renowned director in the entertainment industry, Li Sun had always lived a life of luxury, never having tasted real hardship or dealt with someone as ruthless as Chen Huan.

Trembling like a leaf, he tried to raise his hands defensively. “Ch-Chen, sir, please let me explain… I never meant to deceive you. The production team really faced a lot of difficulties—Ah!”

Before he could finish, Chen Huan delivered a swift kick to his chest, sending him tumbling into the pool.

Icy water choked Li Sun’s nose and mouth. He flailed in agony, clutching the pool’s edge as he tried to climb out. But the moment his head emerged, Chen Huan’s leather shoe came down hard on his fingers, the sound of cracking bones grating on the ears.

“Still refusing to talk?”

Unable to bear the pain, Li Sun wailed, “Agh—Chen, sir, I was wrong! I admit it! Please, spare me this once! I promise I’ll finish the remaining scenes in a month—no, half a month! Ugh, glug, glug…”

One of the subordinates nearby shoved Li Sun’s head back underwater, cutting off his pleas.

The man’s miserable state turned Xiao Lao Dao’s face pale in an instant, but Da Xiong seemed unfazed by the scene. He walked straight over to Chen Huan, bowed respectfully, and said, “Brother Chen, we’ve brought him up.”

“Kid, if you have something to say, say it now.”

He stepped aside, and Zhong Su finally got a clear, unobstructed view of Chen Huan.

Zhong Su didn’t know how to describe his feelings. On one hand, he was happy to see Chen Huan again; on the other, he hesitated. In the years he hadn’t been around, his once-familiar friend had transformed into someone utterly unrecognizable.

Weighed down by these conflicting emotions, he found himself momentarily speechless.

Chen Huan couldn’t even be bothered to lift his eyelids, mistaking Zhong Su’s hesitation for fear of him as he casually lit a cigarette.

The flickering flame illuminated his brow. Holding the cigarette between his fingers, he gestured toward Da Xiong and asked, “Who are these two?”

Da Xiong hesitated at Chen Huan’s question before stammering, “Brother Chen, uh… this Zhong Su claims to be your lover? He said he’s known you for a long time and has a special relationship with you.”

The smile that had been forming on Zhong Su’s face instantly froze, and he stared at Da Xiong in disbelief. When had he ever claimed to be Chen Huan’s lover? How could his words be twisted into such a misinterpretation? Did this guy have muscles for brains?

That earth-shattering declaration of “lover” instantly rendered him speechless.

“What nonsense?” Chen Huan shot a cold glance at Zhong Su, exhaling a faint blue cloud of smoke.

“My lover?” He sneered, looking at Zhong Su as if he were an overestimating clown.

“That’s not true,” Zhong Su hurried to clarify—”I never said that, Da Xiong misunderstood on his own”—when Li Sun in the pool began thrashing again.

He splashed noisily in the water, choking and sobbing, “President Chen, please don’t do this. I’ll make up for the funding gap—I’ll sell my car and house, borrow from the bank, and get your film made. I swear nothing will go wrong again!”

Li Sun wept bitterly, his swollen features contorted, bearing no resemblance to the acclaimed art film director he once was.

“My wife just had a baby, and my parents are in poor health. If anything happens to me, they’re finished. Please have mercy.”

Chen Huan watched him for a moment before moving his foot, revealing the bruised hand beneath. “Not for your sake, but to accumulate some karma for your family. I’ll let you off this time.”

He tilted his head toward Shou Hou and said, “Shou Hou, you handle it. Make sure Li Sun cleans up this mess. If he dares to run… you know what to do.”

Shou Hou, clever and ruthless, replied respectfully, “Don’t worry, Brother Chen. I’ll take care of it neatly.”

Chen Huan turned and signaled his subordinates to haul the drenched Li Sun out of the pool, dragging him roughly into the elevator.

Zhong Su watched him, sensing that Chen Huan had grown more ruthless and controlled. If this had happened seven years ago, anyone who dared cross him or lie to his face would have ended up in the ICU for at least a few days.

“Next… it’s your turn. One pants-wetting fatty, and the other a little liar claiming to be my lover, right?” After Li Sun was dragged away, Chen Huan lowered his gaze and flicked his cigarette ash. His eyes swept over Zhong Su’s youthful features, as if weighing how to make them pay for wasting his time.

Zhong Su’s brow twitched violently—he knew that indifferent look all too well. It was the same careless expression Chen Huan had before smashing someone’s head open back in the day.

“Wait! What I have to say is about the Zhong Su you know—” he urgently cried out, “He never died!”

Da Xiong stiffened all over, a flicker of shock and doubt crossed Shou Hou’s sinister eyes, and even Chen Huan’s movements froze almost imperceptibly.

Only the clueless Xiao Lao Dao blinked in confusion.

“Hey, what the hell are you talking about!” Da Xiong reacted the fastest, anxiously moving to cover Zhong Su’s mouth, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He was the one who brought this person up here—if this kid pissed off Brother Chen with his nonsense, he’d be in trouble too.

“I’m really sorry, Brother Chen. I thought he was your lover and had no idea he’d bring up Xiao Zhong Ge. Otherwise, I would never have let him disturb you.”

“I’m not talking nonsense, Chen Huan. Give me some time, and I’ll explain everything clearly.” Zhong Su dodged Da Xiong’s hand and swiftly closed the distance to Chen Huan, tightly grasping his left hand.

“Believe me,” he stared straight into Chen Huan’s pitch-dark, unreadable eyes, “you won’t regret it.”

Chen Huan lifted his eyelids, staring at Zhong Su’s overly pale hand for a moment before suddenly curling his lips into a scornful, shark-like grin, his white teeth gleaming coldly. “Interesting.”

“Fine, let’s talk in the office. If you can’t give me a satisfactory explanation, you’ll end up just like Li Sun did earlier.”

Chen Huan shook off Zhong Su’s hand, turned his head, and ordered Da Xiong and Shou Hou to wait outside while keeping an eye on Xiao Lao Dao, the “accomplice liar.”

A corridor extended from the poolside. Chen Huan led the way with Zhong Su following until they reached a room at the end of the hallway.

Chen Huan pulled the door open and glanced back at him. “Get in.”

The room was lit with cold, white light. A minimalist desk stood in the center, with a dark gray sofa placed in front of it. The walls were completely bare of any decorative elements, emphasizing pure functionality.

Zhong Su’s nostrils twitched almost imperceptibly as he caught the familiar scent of “Blue Mist” cigarettes—cool and bitter with a spicy aftertaste, exactly like the aura surrounding Chen Huan.

Clearly, this was Chen Huan’s private room, where he usually reviewed accounts and rested whenever he visited this club.

Chen Huan settled into the sofa, stretching his arms broadly across the backrest. “Speak. You claim Su Er isn’t dead—where’s your proof?”

He resembled a giant serpent coiled in its territory, his cold eyes fixed intently on Zhong Su.

Anyone else might have been frozen under that gaze, but Zhong Su calmly sat down opposite him.

He pressed his lips together, quickly calculating in his mind: Chen Huan’s paranoia was extreme. How could he explain this in a way that would make him believe something as absurd as reincarnation?

“…I know this sounds unbelievable,” Zhong Su carefully chose his words, “but I am the Zhong Su who fell into the sea seven years ago. After losing consciousness, I opened my eyes and found myself reborn in this body.”

To bolster his credibility, Zhong Su listed one thing after another that only he and those who knew Zhong Su would be aware of—from minor details like his movie preferences and food tastes to significant experiences he shared with Chen Huan.

“…So, that’s the story. If you still don’t believe me, ask me anything. I can answer all your questions,” Zhong Su concluded.

Chen Huan’s slender fingers lightly flicked, tapping ash into the ashtray. He cast a casual glance at the young man counting off past experiences on his fingers.

“Finished?”

Zhong Su stopped, unable to think of anything else to say. But Chen Huan’s expression remained unreadable, and he couldn’t tell whether the other man believed him or not.

“You want to prove you’re Su Er?” Chen Huan crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, the crimson ember gradually fading as he spoke with indescribable languor: “Fine. Let’s play a little game. Since we’ve been through life and death together, tell me—what does the thing between my legs look like?”

“Three minutes.” He licked the corner of his lips, staring at the young man with shadowed expression: “If you’re wrong, you’ll chew off your tongue and swallow it.”

“You…” Zhong Su’s face turned ashen. Chen Huan was clearly provoking him while being in an awful mood—he fundamentally didn’t believe this reincarnation story.

He couldn’t bring himself to describe Chen Huan’s private parts with such explicit language.

“…Six, seven, eight,” Chen Huan began counting down, malice practically dripping from his smile, “Ready to pay the price?”

Seeing time running out, Zhong Su steeled himself and opted for desperate measures: “Fine! Yours has always been bigger than mine. Satisfied?”

The moment he said it, his ears burned crimson. Two grown men talking about such nonsense, how utterly embarrassing.

“Hah.” A light chuckle escaped Chen Huan’s throat as he stood up. Watching him approach, Zhong Su thought he’d finally been believed.

He sighed in relief, offering a slight smile as he spread his arms for an embrace: “Thank goodness you believe me, otherwise this would’ve been—”

Before he could finish, Chen Huan, still smiling, grabbed the ashtray with his left hand and smashed it against Zhong Su’s head.

THWACK!

Blood splattered instantly. Excruciating pain exploded through Zhong Su’s skull as his knees buckled, sending him collapsing from the sofa onto the floor. Warm blood streamed down his brow into his eyes.

What… the hell?

Zhong Su dazedly shook his head. Through the vertigo, his scalp screamed with tearing agony, Chen Huan had seized his hair, brutally hauling him upright to force eye contact.

In his wavering vision, the white beaded bracelet on the man’s wrist came into focus. The beads coiled multiple times around the wrist, their bone-china texture gleaming coldly under the lights.

Chen Huan leaned in until their noses nearly touched, his blood-scented breath washing over Zhong Su’s face: “I personally sent Su Er into the cremation furnace. Watched him burn to ashes. Made these beads from his remains. If you dare appear before me again with this ‘reincarnation’ bullshit, I’ll kill you.”

Zhong Su tasted blood flooding his mouth, so metallic and salty it choked his speech.

Ignoring his suffering, Chen Huan dragged him mercilessly by the hair to the entrance and flung him out, commanding: “Da Xiong, throw them out.”

Zhong Su crashed heavily onto the cold tile floor. Before losing consciousness, only one thought remained: Chen Huan… you fucking lunatic… you’re really going to kill your brother…

Da Xiong immediately recognized Chen Huan was dead serious. Not daring another word, he scooped up Zhong Su from the floor and hauled both him and Xiao Lao Dao away.

Even Xiao Lao Dao couldn’t escape a beating during the expulsion, taking several heavy blows to the gut.

Wiping blood and tears from his nose, Xiao Lao Dao struggled to support Zhong Su while sobbing complaints: “Do you ever think before acting?”

“Ah… do you even know who that person is before daring to provoke them…”