Chapter 88: The Truth of the Fire

He followed after him at an unhurried pace, and the sense of safety was wonderfully soothing.

It was not until they drew near the pavilion courtyard that they heard, from within, a woman’s breathless moans, soft and intoxicating, along with the sharp clatter of a number of knife handles slipping to the floor.

Then a woman came stumbling out from inside, hair disheveled and face streaked with tears. Her makeup was still exquisite, but there was a clear strangling mark around her neck. Barefoot, she trembled as she fled outward.

She had clearly seen Fu Yanyan in the chaos only moments before. Her pupils widened, but fear overpowered even that flash of astonishment. She did not dare turn back. She dragged at her skirt and had barely gone a few steps when she realized the hidden door had been locked from the outside.

From the dim doorway of the pavilion stepped a gaudily dressed man, slouching in slippers, a designer belt at his waist, even his stray locks falling loose and unrestrained. There was a ruthless mockery in his gaze. A knife moved in his hand; he brought the bitten, bleeding place on his hand to his mouth, and a thread of blood slipped from the corner of his lips. Irritated, he knocked the knife against the doorpost.

“Why do women these days always think about running? Should I break her legs first, cut the tendons at the ankles, then break the legs piece by piece...”

The more he spoke, the more terrifying it became, like someone frightening a child. And though he was not a very patient man, outside of the bed, when he lost control and his temper flared, he was usually still somewhat tenderhearted.

Xu Yaochuan glanced at the two of them, then lifted the corners of his mouth and, in a black floral shirt, crouched directly beneath the eaves.

“Baby, I clearly meant to be gentle, but you bit my hand. Come here—give me a chance and blow on it for me.”

Fu Yanyan paid him no mind and simply walked into the room.

Inside, the air was thick with licentious warmth. Women’s skirts lay strewn across the floor, along with a mess of their belongings. Heavy blades hung all over the walls, making the room unnaturally cold, steeped in阴气, a chill of deathly yin.

Beneath the table was a heap of money. In the corner of the room huddled another woman, her features pure and delicate, yet with red lips, cascading waves of hair, and a voluptuous, provocative figure; the visual impact was strikingly sensual. She looked a little frightened, but still managed to stand, trembling.

She did not seem afraid of Xu Yaochuan at all. Barefoot, she looped her arm through the man’s.

“Brother Xu, who are they?”

“Baby, were you scared just now?”

“It’s fine. I like you. No matter what you do, I like you.”

“Why do you like me?”

The woman stuck out her tongue, a little mischievously. “When you’re good, you’re very good. When you’re bad, you’re especially bad.”

Xu Yaochuan was clearly quite indulgent toward her, and he introduced the guests to her.

“They’re guests from far away. This is Brother Fu. He’s the kind of man who lacks the one thing no one else can ever have enough of—money. One of the wealthiest figures in the country.”

Xu Yaochuan’s praise did not sound especially sincere; it was merely a brief introduction.

When it became clear he could not coax the other woman back, he simply stopped bothering, closed the door, and went to sit by the tea table. Beside him, a woman in red brewed tea, all allure and charm.

The room, which had been boiling with excitement moments before, was now filled only with the rich fragrance of tea. The woman, though seductive, stayed close to him with a little birdlike dependence, even deliberately pressing herself against Xu Yaochuan.

He pinched her waist, then lit a cigarette.

“What do you want with me?”

“That question is better asked of you. Wasn’t it you who led us here?”

“Is that so? I thought President Fu was a master strategist. I didn’t expect he’d also know martial arts. That fight just now was quite something. President Fu can beat down several men, while I couldn’t even hold onto one woman and let her get away. President Fu, your methods are more than most people can bear. The goods on this table were clearly planted and framed by you.”

Xu Yaochuan’s words were roundabout praise laced with sarcasm, with a hint of grievance as well.

“Planted and framed? Hearing that from you is almost a joke.”

Fu Yanyan took the tea Xu Yaochuan had poured and set the cup directly before the woman with the fiery red lips.

The meaning was obvious.

He would drink only after she did.

He was afraid of poison.

The woman turned and looked at Xu Yaochuan. As always, he lounged with one leg crossed over the chair, the gleam of his expensive watch flashing across his cold, sharp eyes.

“Baby, it’s fine. Show President Fu some sincerity for me, and I’ll give you a villa in the west district of Hong Kong.”

“Okay.”

With a bit of coaxing, the woman drank it down. A moment later, nothing happened to her.

Even though Fu Yanyan knew the tea had not been poisoned, he still did not drink. Rather than worry about poison, he was thinking about Xu Yaochuan’s weakness.

“President Fu, today I want to make a wager with you.”

Xu Yaochuan took a few cigarettes from the side and placed them on the tea table. In the curling smoke, the cunning and ruthlessness in his eyes seemed to spread at once, his lids narrowing slightly like the cold weapons hanging on the rear wall. Unsheathed, they were exquisite objects fit for admiration; once drawn, they revealed their edge at once. It was all flashing steel and sword light sweeping through bamboo leaves and cypress forests. Wherever he stood, nothing could remain peaceful. He could easily turn a clear stream muddy.

“Not for money.”

“So President Fu means...”

“Any amount of money is no wager to me.”

He spoke lightly, as still as water, yet with hidden tides beneath. He summoned the one strategist favored by fate amid this feast of desire; seated there, his hand idly rolling the prayer beads, he still held the room in absolute suppression.

“Bold. That is exactly my intention as well—not money. If you win, I will tell you the truth about how Zhong Huayan died that year.”

The truth about her death.

Xu Yaochuan did not know that the woman he had already spoken of as dead was sitting right across from him, listening to every word.

Fu Yanyan’s fingers, turning the beads, suddenly stopped. He looked toward the woman beside him.

Three years ago, that great fire had burned away the century-old fate of the Zhong family. After reaching unprecedented glory in the brutal struggles of the capital’s industries, the family, burdened by ill fortune, had then collapsed with a thunderous crash under immense upheaval.

Everyone knew full well that many had wanted to move the Zhong family aside that year, including even relatives from the other branches who watched that fat piece of meat with hungry eyes. The Xu family plotted, the Zhong family tore itself apart from within, and they had effectively driven Zhong Huayan, chairman of the Zhong Group, to her death.

But Zhong Huayan was not certain whether there had been someone else operating behind the scenes.

What exactly was the truth of the fire that Xu Yaochuan spoke of...

Those words stirred every mind in the room and drew everyone into the game.

This wager was not about money. It was about other people’s lives, about secrets no one knew, about the truth of death.

“If I win, President Fu, you must agree to one request from me.”

“Fine.”

Fu Yanyan did not think long. He knew his sister wanted to know...

The bamboo leaves were blown down by the wind and scattered through the damp woods. From outside came rows of waitresses, lining up on both sides of the forest path. In their eyes, every one of the people passing through was someone they could not afford to offend.

Taken alone, each of them possessed looks and bearing that could crush ordinary people, even their very presence proclaiming lives unlike anyone else’s. In genes, background, luck, and ability, they were the cherished children of heaven—how could ordinary people dare covet them?