Chapter Eighty-Four: Wealth Knocks at the Door

The portly, big-eared middle-aged man, simmering with rage, stormed into a lounge on the top floor of the Kun City Chamber of Commerce. Two burly, muscle-bound guards stood by the entrance; upon seeing his disheveled state, they exclaimed in surprise, “Boss Zhang, what happened to you?”

He ignored their concern, shoving open the door with force. The lounge was vast and lavishly decorated: expensive carpets, furniture carved from rosewood, and a rare white tiger pelt hung on the wall.

At the center of the hall, a cluster of young, graceful women danced. Each was strikingly beautiful, their elegance rivaling that of noble ladies.

At the head of the room sat a man in a tailored Zhongshan suit. Behind him stood a row of fierce, uniformed men, encircling him like stars around the moon—a clear kingpin of the underworld.

He sat with a commanding presence, flanked by two stunning women in cheongsams. While eating grapes peeled by one of the young women, his hand rested on her thigh, caressing her soft, fair skin. Though the girl loathed him, she dared not move; she knew all too well the cruelty this man inflicted upon those who defied him.

When the portly man barged in, the kingpin looked up in surprise, “Brother Zhang, what’s gotten into you?”

“Damn it, such rotten luck! I was in the main hall, saw a little tart dressed provocatively, so I took the liberty of touching her.” The local tycoon collapsed into a chair, gulping down tea furiously. “Who knew she’d slap me, then some guy appeared out of nowhere and kicked me hard—called himself Ma Fei? Never heard of him.”

“Ma Fei? Isn’t he the kid from Ma’s Cloth Shop?” One of the burly men behind the suited boss interjected.

“Yes, yes! He said he was from the Ma family cloth business. Told me to wait, acting all high and mighty,” the tycoon added hurriedly.

Zhou Xiong frowned, turning to the burly man. “Ah Biao, what's the story? You know him?”

“Not really, just ran into him a few times in business, don’t know him well,” Ah Biao replied quickly.

The tycoon slapped the table and glared at Zhou Xiong, “Brother Xiong, this happened on your turf. How do you want to handle it?”

Zhou Xiong grinned, unruffled. “Well, even a cloth merchant dares lay hands on Zhou Xiong’s people now?”

His smile sent chills through the dancing beauties—they all knew, from bitter experience, how terrifying this man was in Kun City.

Zhou Xiong was the undisputed overlord of Kun City, commanding both the legal and illegal worlds, his men numerous and formidable. Apart from the Grand Marshal’s Mansion, no power dared cross him—he was rumored to be the underworld's official representative, backed by the Grand Marshal himself.

“Brother Zhang, rest assured. You’re my honored guest; I’ll see you get justice.” He beckoned, and a muscular, tattooed man stepped forward, a white tiger emblazoned on his skin. “Tiger, take two men downstairs. Bring Ma Fei and his companions up here. I want to see who in Kun City dares challenge Zhou Xiong.”

“Yes, Brother Xiong!” the tattooed thug replied loudly, bowing before he left.

...

Meanwhile, Li Yang was selecting medicinal herbs in the main hall when several burly, tattooed men barged in, clearly up to no good. Their leader, Tiger, barked, “Which one’s Ma Fei?”

“I am. What’s it to you?” Ma Fei stood, his face clouded as he eyed the intruders.

“Good, you’re coming with us. Our boss wants to see you.” Tiger gestured, and two men moved to seize him.

“Stop! What do you think you’re doing? Do you know who I am?” Ma Fei struggled furiously, his friends cursing the thugs.

“Let’s talk this out,” Yang Xuan stepped in, blocking the hot-headed companions. He eyed Tiger coldly. “Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding. Why are you looking for Xiao Fei?”

“This kid just hit our boss’s guest. The boss wants him for tea,” Tiger replied with a sneer.

“You’re here on behalf of that fat pig!” Ma Fei’s expression darkened.

“Brother, my father is Yang Feifan of Sheng Tian Trading. Please show some mercy. How can you help a Shaanxi man bully Kun City locals?” Yang Xuan said arrogantly.

“I don’t care if your father is Yang Feifan or Yang Not-So-Fan. If you’ve got guts, tell my boss yourself. I just take people, that’s all.” Tiger spat, glaring disdainfully at Yang Xuan.

“Fine, we’ll go see your boss. Let my companion go first, at least,” Yang Xuan replied, undaunted.

Tiger considered briefly, then addressed the crowd, “You’re all coming. The boss said no one runs, or else my brothers won’t play nice!”

With that, he led the way out of Qin Hua Pavilion.

“Yang Xuan, what do we do? Should we notify home?” Ma Fei asked anxiously. Truth be told, none of them were used to such intimidation.

“No worries. He’s just a Shaanxi local—what connections could he possibly have here? At most, some country bumpkins and petty thugs. We’re not afraid,” Yang Xuan scoffed, patting Ma Fei reassuringly.

His father’s business, Sheng Tian Trading, was one of Kun City’s four giants, with connections throughout Yunnan—his confidence was well-founded.

The group, brash and naïve, followed Tiger and his men upstairs to the chamber headquarters.

Li Yang watched the spectacle with amusement. He sensed a subtle aura of menace from the thugs—clearly men who’d killed before. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing for these pampered youths to taste a bit of hardship.

Still, since Doctor Sun had shown him some kindness—and he found Sun Yuran agreeable—Li Yang decided not to stand idly by, at least for her sake. The others, he cared little for.

Arriving upstairs, Yang Xuan and his friends were momentarily stunned by Zhou Xiong’s intimidating entourage. This Shaanxi tycoon seemed stronger than expected.

But their families’ backgrounds in Kun City gave them confidence.

“Brother, what’s your business with my friend Xiao Fei?” Yang Xuan stepped forward, addressing Zhou Xiong boldly.

“Oh? And you are?” Zhou Xiong narrowed his eyes, arms around the two cheongsam beauties, sizing up the group with amusement.

“I’m Yang Xuan, son of Yang Feifan of Sheng Tian Trading. If my friend has offended your guest, I ask you to show us some courtesy.” Yang Xuan said, cupping his hands respectfully.

“Yang Feifan?” Zhou Xiong snorted in disdain. “Even your father would have to show me respect, call me Brother Xiong, and serve me tea.”

“And you are…?” Yang Xuan’s face paled, his legs trembling as realization dawned.

“I am Zhou Xiong. You dare hit my friend? You slap my face. Still don’t know who I am?” Zhou Xiong’s cold smile was laced with violence.

“Brother Xiong?” The name sent chills through the group, Ma Fei’s spine tingled, his limbs weak with fear.

Moments ago, they’d been speculating about Zhou Xiong’s background and influence—now, unexpectedly, they’d provoked him directly.

Despite their flashy appearance, most of Yang Xuan’s companions came from minor families, powerless against a kingpin like Zhou Xiong.

“Brother Zhang, I’ve brought them to you. What do you want to do?” Zhou Xiong tilted his head, addressing the portly tycoon.

The tycoon rushed forward, delivering a vicious kick to Ma Fei, who collapsed, face white with terror.

“You thought you were tough? Let’s see how your grandpa deals with you today!” He kicked Ma Fei several more times, grinning maliciously.

“Please… I’m sorry, truly sorry. Spare me, please!” Ma Fei didn’t dare resist, shielding his head as he begged, terrified by the thugs behind Zhou Xiong.

“I can spare you—on one condition,” the tycoon laughed. “Tonight, let your girl accompany me, and I’ll let you go.”

Xiao Yan, trembling like a quail, shrank back, her face ashen and eyes dead with despair.

Ah Biao, watching the scene, smiled slyly. “So you like young girls, Boss Zhang? Just say the word, I’ll have a whole batch here in minutes!”

Yang Xuan gulped nervously, glancing at his friends. Seeing their fearful faces, he knew he had to step up to preserve his hard-won reputation.

The moment he heard Zhou Xiong’s name, he realized things were grim. Swallowing his fear, he stepped forward.

“Brother Xiong, my friend offended your guest—we apologize and are willing to make amends. But please, don’t involve the girls.”

“Fine. I know your father, I’ll give him some face,” Zhou Tianhao replied with a sly smile.

But before Yang Xuan could rejoice, Zhou Xiong pointed at Sun Yuran and Zhou Xinde, along with several other girls.

“You lot can leave—except those girls. They stay.”

The group’s faces turned ashen in an instant. If Sun Yuran and the others were left behind, not only would Yang Xuan’s reputation be ruined, but their families, powerless against Zhou Xiong, would likely turn their wrath on his own.

“Why should they stay? That’s unlawful detention!” A girl in a white dress beside Yang Xuan couldn’t help protesting.

Yang Xuan cursed inwardly. His spoiled companion didn’t understand how dangerous Zhou Xiong was—arguing the law with him was courting death.

Sure enough, Zhou Xiong burst out laughing. “You want to talk law? Let me tell you: here in Kun City, except for the Grand Marshal's Mansion, I am the law!”

His smile vanished, replaced by icy menace. “I’ve changed my mind. The men can leave—the women stay to entertain my friends.”

He pointed to Sun Yuran and Zhou Xin. “You two, over here.”

He’d noticed them as soon as they entered: one tall and elegant, the other voluptuous and innocent, both stunningly beautiful. Compared to them, the other women paled. He seized the opportunity for his own pleasure.

“Brother Xiong, she’s my companion, just naïve. I apologize—please show my father some mercy,” Yang Xuan pleaded, forcing a smile.

“Mercy? Ask your father if he’s entitled to any!” Zhou Xiong slammed his teacup to the floor, roaring, “When I say leave, you leave. Why waste words? Or do you all want to stay?”

His outburst terrified the young men and women, none of whom had faced such intimidation before.

He signaled to Ah Biao, who nodded and stepped forward to seize the three girls.

The girl in the white dress was now pale with fright, tears streaming as she hid behind Yang Xuan.

Yang Xuan could only smile apologetically, desperately pleading, but dared not intervene. He’d often heard his father speak of Zhou Xiong’s ruthlessness. Though his father was a businessman, surviving in such tumultuous times meant he was no ordinary merchant—and he knew Zhou Xiong’s formidable backing.

Sun Yuran watched coldly, realizing there was no peaceful resolution today.

She was about to speak, offering herself in exchange for Zhou Xin and the others' freedom, when suddenly a hand blocked Ah Biao’s path.

Everyone turned in surprise.

Unnoticed until now, Li Yang had stepped in front of Sun Yuran, calmly shielding her from Ah Biao, then turned to Zhou Xiong, “Brother Xiong, right? She’s my friend. Do me a favor and let her go.”

“What are you doing, are you crazy?” Sun Yuran hissed at Li Yang. She’d hoped to placate Zhou Xiong with her own sacrifice, but Li Yang’s interference threatened to worsen matters.

“Oh? And who are you? You want me to do you a favor?” Zhou Xiong’s tone was chilling.

His anger mounting, he saw these youngsters, one after another, demanding face from him—now another fool stepped up? Clearly, Zhou Xiong had been too lenient lately if any nobody dared challenge him.

“Who am I?” Li Yang stroked his chin, pondering for a moment before speaking. “I am someone you can’t afford to provoke.”