In an isolated building.
The air inside the dimly lit room was thick with cigarette smoke, curling in ghostly tendrils toward the high ceiling. The faint hum of distant traffic was the only reminder that life existed beyond these walls. This was a forgotten place, abandoned by most—except for those who thrived in the shadows.
To the men gathered here, this wasn't just a hideout. It was a battlefield where power wasn't measured in wealth or reputation, but in control.
At the head of the long wooden table sat Qin Yejun, his presence dominating the room without a single word. The flickering light from the overhead lamp barely touched his sharp features, casting half his face in shadow. A cigarette rested between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly as he took a slow drag, exhaling smoke in a lazy swirl.
The others seated around the table held authority in their own right, men accustomed to wielding influence that stretched across Baicheng's underground. But none came close to rivaling Yejun. Even in silence, he made their presence feel smaller.
Among them, one man stood out—not because of his intimidation, but because of his striking contrast to the rest. Bai Xianyun.
Dressed in casual elegance, Bai Xianyun exuded an air of amused detachment. His sharp, cat-like eyes gleamed with mischief, and a single silver earring dangled from his left ear, swaying ever so slightly as he leaned back in his chair. Unlike the others, whose expressions were grave and measured, Bai Xianyun watched the ongoing discussion with a half-smile, as if the entire ordeal was just another passing entertainment.
The topic at hand was a shipment—one that required delicate maneuvering to avoid unnecessary attention. The men spoke in hushed, precise tones, dissecting logistics, risks, and security loopholes.
But Yejun?
He looked bored.
His fingers tapped idly against the table, his silver watch catching the dim light with each movement. It wasn't that the conversation lacked importance. It was simply predictable. Predictability bored him.
Behind him, Shen Wuhen stood silently, a watchful sentinel. Unlike the others, Shen Wuhen never lost focus. His sharp gaze never wavered, absorbing every movement, every unspoken tension in the air.
Then—
A subtle vibration.
Shen Wuhen's fingers barely moved as he pulled out his phone. He glanced at the screen, and for the first time that night, something flickered in his cold, calculating eyes.
Without a word, he stepped away from the table and answered.
The voice on the other end was steady, efficient, with no unnecessary pleasantries.
"Old madam was followed today during her shopping trip."
Shen Wuhen's grip on the phone tightened slightly.
"She was never in direct danger. The tail disappeared after she was done shopping, and she has since arrived home safely. We are investigating further."
A pause—a brief flicker of irritation in Shen Wuhen's sharp gaze. Something was missing.
"Who was with her?" he asked.
A short silence followed.
The guard hesitated before responding, "She was accompanied by a young woman. Old Madam seems to know her well."
Shen Wuhen's brows twitched ever so slightly. He did not press further, nor did he reprimand. Instead, he ended the call and made his way back to Yejun.
Leaning in, he whispered the information into his master's ear.
For a brief moment, Yejun's fingers paused against the rim of his cigarette. His expression remained unreadable, but there was a faint shift in the air around him.
Shen Wuhen, ever patient, waited.
"Do we take action?" he asked quietly.
Yejun exhaled, flicking the cigarette's ash into a tray. "Not yet."
His voice was calm, unhurried—but Shen Wuhen knew him well.
He could see it. The gears were already turning in Yejun's mind.
The conversation resumed among the men, but the mood had subtly changed. The other men hadn't noticed the exchange between Yejun and Shen Wuhen, but Bai Xianyun had.
He didn't comment, but the faint smirk on his lips suggested he had picked up on something.
By the time the meeting concluded, the tension in the air had lightened—just a little.
Bai Xianyun stretched lazily, his arms raising over his head as he let out an exaggerated sigh. "You should really learn to enjoy these discussions, brother. All work and no play will make you age faster."
Yejun didn't even spare him a glance.
Bai Xianyun chuckled, shaking his head. "You're impossible. Fine, fine—I'll go entertain myself elsewhere."
His sharp gaze flicked to Shen Wuhen, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Wuhen, if our dear friend here ever develops a personality, do let me know."
Shen Wuhen's expression didn't change. He merely bowed slightly, revealing nothing.
Bai Xianyun sighed dramatically. "Ugh. So dull."
And with that, he strolled out, his footsteps light and unhurried, as if he had nothing in the world to worry about.
Yejun exhaled another stream of smoke, his gaze dark and contemplative.
"Find out who was it" he murmured to Shen Wuhen, voice dangerously low.
Shen Wuhen's lips barely moved as he responded, "Understood."
As the room emptied, the scent of smoke lingered.
And in the silence that followed, Yejun finally crushed his cigarette out.
Elsewhere..
The first thing Lin Yuxi noticed upon regaining consciousness was the silence.
Not the kind of silence that came with peace, but the unsettling kind—the one that crawled under the skin, stretching time unbearably thin. The kind that made the air feel heavier, pressing down on her like an unseen force.
Her lashes fluttered as her senses sharpened. The room around her was dimly lit, bathed in muted shades of gray. It was clean, sterile—too clean. A simple bed. A single chair. A locked door. No windows. No signs of struggle.
A controlled environment.
Her fingers twitched slightly. Not a place meant for torture. Not a place meant for immediate harm.
That meant whoever had taken her either wanted her alive—or wanted something from her first.
Idiots.
She pushed herself upright, her muscles tense but uninjured. Her pulse was steady, her body intact. Whatever had been used to knock her out had been carefully measured—not too strong, just enough to keep her unconscious for a while.
Not long.
If it had been long, Kai would have already begun tearing through the city, tracking her with an efficiency that would leave nothing but destruction in its wake. And Xuan? He would already have traced every possible surveillance camera, every digital footprint, pulling apart entire networks just to find her.
Which meant she still had time.
Her gaze flicked to the door. Locked. Sturdy enough that brute force wouldn't be an immediate option. There were no vents large enough for an easy exit, no secondary door, no windows to gauge her surroundings.
Just one way out.
Her fingers curled against the bedsheets. Fine.
If they wanted her to stay put, she would do the opposite.
She slid off the bed soundlessly, her movements precise and controlled. If someone was coming, she wouldn't be caught waiting. Her body coiled, her breathing measured as she pressed herself against the wall beside the door. Patience. Precision. Readiness.
She waited.
And waited.
Time stretched. Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe forty.
Then—
The lock clicked open.
Yuxi remained motionless, her heartbeat steady.
One person. No hesitation in the steps. They don't expect resistance.
The door creaked slightly as it swung inward. A figure stepped inside, his posture relaxed, unreadable.
Tang Zhenyu.
For a fraction of a second, surprise flickered in his dark eyes.
The bed was empty.
Wrong move.
Before he could react, a shadow moved behind him.
Yuxi struck.
An arm wrapped around his throat, locking in with precise pressure, her knee digging sharply into his spine. Not a reckless attack—controlled, intentional.
She had been waiting for him.
His muscles tensed immediately.
Zhenyu didn't hesitate. He twisted sharply, his elbow shooting back in a swift counter, but Yuxi was already anticipating it. She dodged, using his shift in weight to hook her leg around his and sweep—
He caught himself before hitting the floor, a slight skid marking the ground where he had braced.
That should have worked.
Yuxi exhaled, eyes narrowing. He's skilled. More than skilled.
She moved again, aiming a sharp palm strike toward his ribs—direct, efficient—but he deflected, countering with a fast sweep toward her legs. She jumped back, regaining distance just as he straightened.
They stood at a standoff.
Breathing steady.
Eyes locked.
For the first time since the encounter began, Yuxi felt a flicker of something unfamiliar. A challenge.
Zhenyu's eyes held something new.
Surprise. Amusement. Calculation.
He hadn't expected her to fight back like this.
And she hadn't expected him to be this good.
The corner of his lips tugged upward into a slow, knowing smirk.
"this is unexpected..." he murmured, his voice carrying the faintest trace of amusement.
Yuxi's stance remained firm, her gaze sharp. "If you were expecting an easy captive, you should have done better."
His smirk widened slightly, the expression almost lazy—but his eyes gleamed with something sharper, something deeper.
"Well," he murmured, rolling his shoulders, "that's my mistake, then."
They moved at the same time.
The fight was far from over.