The burly men who had been surrounding the villa had somehow already barged into the courtyard and even broken through the door.
The bald, rough-looking leader charged in first, spat on the ground, and yelled with a fierce glare, “Goddammit, Qin, I’d like to see where you run now! If you don’t give us an answer today, I’ll smash this place to pieces!”
Seeing this, Qin Mingsheng stepped forward, shielding Jiang Zhi and Cheng Shuwen behind him.
Qin Mingsheng tried to reason with the bald man, saying in a low voice, “Compensation has to go through proper procedures. Coming to my door won’t change anything.”
The bald man spat again and snarled, “By the time the procedures are done, your family will be bankrupt—how would you still have money to pay? My niece would have died for nothing!”
“We’re not asking for much. Give us twenty million right now, and we’ll leave immediately!”
Jiang Zhi understood now—these were relatives of the leukemia patient, here to squeeze blood money out of them.
The moment Cheng Shuwen heard him say twenty million, her eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She cursed, “Dream on! You want to extort twenty million from us before the procedures are even done?”
The bald man sneered, “Don’t think I’m stupid. This mansion of yours is worth at least twenty million. Perfect—sell it and pay us!”
Cheng Shuwen valued money more than her own life, so this bald man might as well have been asking for her head.
A sly glint flashed through Cheng Shuwen’s eyes as an idea struck her. She shoved Jiang Zhi, who was standing beside her, forward and shouted, “You know Shang Chi, the head of Shangshi Group, right? This is his wife—our niece too. She’s loaded! Go ask her!”
If Jiang Zhi wanted to stay out of it, Cheng Shuwen wasn’t about to let her.
By dragging her out as a scapegoat, she’d force Jiang Zhi to marry Shang Chi whether she wanted to or not.
Jiang Zhi stumbled forward from the sudden shove, steadying herself with a frown.
The moment the bald man laid eyes on Jiang Zhi, lust flickered in his gaze.
He’d been so focused on extortion that he hadn’t noticed the stunningly beautiful woman standing behind Qin Mingsheng.
Even in her casual outfit, she couldn’t hide her perfectly curved, alluring figure.
Damn, that slender waist, those long legs—wouldn’t it be f*cking amazing to have her underneath him?
The bald man first sneered dismissively at Cheng Shuwen, “Think I’m easy to fool? You think the Shang family would take a second look at you?”
He paused, then let his gaze roam over Jiang Zhi from bottom to top, his face twisted with lechery. “Though… if you offer this little beauty as collateral, I might give you a few extra days.”
With that, the bald man reached out to grab Jiang Zhi’s arm.
But just as his fat, greasy, dark hand was about to touch her fair skin, his wrist was suddenly seized by a large hand with prominent veins and well-defined knuckles.
“Ah—”
The man’s agonized scream, accompanied by the crisp sound of bones snapping, rang clearly in everyone’s ears.
The crowd drew in sharp breaths, all staring in shock at the cold, refined man who was viciously twisting the bald man’s wrist.
The man wore a black suit with two shirt buttons undone, his tie loosened and hanging around his neck. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and a lit cigarette dangled from his thin lips as he looked down at the bald man with cold, condescending eyes.
Shangshi Group was famous, but Shang Chi had only returned to the country six months ago, and his only public appearance had been that interview livestream on Fanqie TV.
None of the bald man’s underlings recognized him. One of them stepped forward, pointing at Shang Chi, and demanded, “Who the hell are you?!”
Shang Chi had slipped in at some point. Now radiating menace, he swept a frigid gaze over the underling, his deep eyes brimming with coldness.
The next moment, he slammed his fist into the bald man’s eye, his tone lazy yet dangerous. “Your daddy.”
Eyes that didn’t know their place deserved to be ruined.
The pain in the bald man’s wrist hadn’t even subsided before his eye took a punch, making him gasp sharply.
Furious beyond reason, the bald man clutched his eye, his face twisted with rage as he glared at his underlings behind him and roared, “What the hell are you all waiting for?! Did I hire you to watch me get beaten up?!”
Hearing this, the underlings exchanged glances.
They figured—they were all built like bruisers, while the man before them was in a suit and glasses, looking refined and bookish. Sure, his expression was vicious and his aura intimidating as hell, but he couldn’t possibly take on all of them at once.
A dozen or so men clenched their fists and charged at Shang Chi!
Seeing this, Shang Chi curled his lips in a cold smirk and murmured, “Looking for death.”
Before they could reach him, he casually unclasped his wristwatch with one hand and handed it to Jiang Zhi. “Hold this.”
Jiang Zhi snapped back to reality and reached out to take the expensive watch just as one of the underlings swung a fist at Shang Chi’s face!
Shang Chi tilted his head, dodging with ease. His long leg, wrapped in tailored suit trousers and rippling with muscle, shot out—bang—and the man was sent flying.
The underlings froze for a second, then surged at Shang Chi all at once.
Shang Chi quickly unbuttoned his shirt cuff, clenched his jaw, and let a bloodthirsty ruthlessness seep into his gaze.
Anyone who charged at him ended up on the ground, teeth scattered.
In an instant, over a dozen burly men lay sprawled on the floor, faces twisted in pain, groaning and whimpering.
By the time Zhou Xu arrived, the scene before him was one of utter chaos—the room in disarray, with Qin Mingsheng pulling Jiang Zhi and Cheng Shuwen into a corner.
Meanwhile, Shang Chi had grabbed the bald man by the collar of his shirt as he tried to flee, yanking him backward while his other fist slammed into the man’s remaining good eye!
This gave the bald man a perfectly matched pair of black eyes—highly ornamental.
Zhou Xu had been with Shang Chi for over three years, and he knew Shang Chi’s temperament better than anyone.
Shang Chi appeared refined and restrained, but in truth, he was fiercer than anyone when it came to throwing punches.
Back overseas, Shang Chi used to frequent the kickboxing gym whenever he had free time. When he was in a bad mood, even a dozen kickboxing trainees going at him at once couldn’t beat him.
His ferocity was nothing short of astonishing.
Let alone these men on the floor—all brawn and no skill, nothing but pretty pillows.
Zhou Xu strode quickly to Shang Chi’s side and deftly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, handing it to him.
Shang Chi took the handkerchief, unhurriedly wiping the blood from his hands, then lifted his eyelids to cast a sidelong glance at Zhou Xu. “You could have come after your meal.”
Zhou Xu’s heart tightened, and he quickly explained, “I went to the hospital to pull up some records, so I was delayed a bit.”
Shang Chi said nothing. After wiping his hands clean, he handed the handkerchief back to Zhou Xu.
Jiang Zhi noticed the bloodstains on the handkerchief. While the two men were talking, she had already moved to Shang Chi’s side, her brows furrowed as she said, “Mr. Shang, are you injured?”
Her voice was soft and gentle, carrying a hint of urgency and concern.
Shang Chi’s gaze paused briefly. His fingers curled slightly into his palm as he said in a low tone, “No.”
Jiang Zhi glanced at the man’s hands—indeed, he wasn’t injured, though the prominent knuckles had reddened from the fight.
She let out a quiet breath, averted her gaze, and handed him his wristwatch. “Your watch.”
Shang Chi took the watch from Jiang Zhi’s hand, his long, slender fingertips brushing lightly across her palm, sending a faint tingle through her skin.
Jiang Zhi’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly.
Shang Chi lowered his eyes, fastening the watch with one hand in an elegant manner. If not for the lingering ferocity between his brows, who would have imagined that this man of refined nobility could fight with such ruthless brutality?
Suddenly, four words flashed through Jiang Zhi’s mind—
A suit-wearing thug.