By evening, on the way to Tsim Sha Tsui to meet Master Lai, the rain had begun to taper off, though the sky remained oppressively low.
Shen Yanzhou leaned against the back seat of the Maybach, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. His mind repeatedly rehearsed the negotiation leverage he would use upon meeting Master Lai later. From morning until now, the SMS notifications on his phone had barely stopped.
They were all transaction alerts.
[American Express]: Valued Centurion Black Card Member, your supplementary card ending in 8888 was used for a transaction at 12:15 at [Mong Kok Fa Yuen Street – Keung Kee Budget Food Stall]. Amount spent: HKD 120.00.
[American Express]: …used for a transaction at 13:20 at [Mong Kok Market – Granny Chen’s Fresh Produce Stall]. Amount spent: HKD 35.00.
[American Express]: …used for a transaction at 15:28 at [Jidi Home Groceries]. Amount spent: HKD 258.00.
Shen Yanzhou looked at the string of measly figures on the screen, the corners of his eyes twitching uncontrollably.
The card he had handed the man this morning was a Black Centurion Card. The mere sight of it could clear out and close down all of Pacific Place, and its limit was enough to swipe a luxury sports car on the spot. Though he had ostensibly given it to him to buy clothes and groceries saving him from wandering around the house naked it was actually a test.
When a desperate criminal who had been caged for too long and was driven mad by poverty suddenly gained access to such staggering wealth, would he buy luxury watches and gold chains, or would he go straight to an underground bank to cash it out and flee? Either scenario fell within Shen Yanzhou’s expectations, making it easy to locate and apprehend him at any time, thereby exposing the true motive behind his extreme obedience.
Yet, after calculating everything, he never expected this dog to take the card and buy this kind of junk.
Thirty-five bucks? What did he buy? Two stalks of green scallions? And that hundred-and-twenty-dollar food stall did he go there just to eat lard-tossed rice?
An incredibly jarring image surfaced unbidden in Shen Yanzhou’s mind: an S-tier thug, nearly two meters tall with muscles practically bursting through his shirt, presently shrinking himself into a noisy, greasy market in Mong Kok. Clutching a crumpled little receipt, he was actually haggling with a wrinkled old granny over a dollar or two of loose change.
“…” Shen Yanzhou felt his vision go dark.
Vroom—
Another notification popped up.
[American Express]: …used for a transaction at 16:49 at [Li Yuen Street East – Wholesale Clothing Stall]. Amount spent: HKD 390.00 (Memo: Men’s Pure Cotton Boxers – Extra Large – Three-pack).
Shen Yanzhou took a deep breath and flipped his phone face down onto his thigh.
Three hundred and ninety dollars for a three-pack of boxers? The dog in his house wore that kind of underwear? With such rough cotton rubbing against him, who knew if he’d develop an allergy.
“Brother, what’s wrong?”
Shen Xici, who had been resting with his eyes closed beside him, detected the anomaly in the air pressure surrounding his brother. He turned his head with concern. “Are there new variables over at the docks? Or is it Master Lai’s side…”
“No.” Shen Yanzhou pinched the bridge of his nose, his face a complete picture of wordless exasperation. “The dog at home is proving to be a bit of trouble.”
“A dog?” Shen Xici immediately recalled his brother mentioning yesterday that he had just started keeping a dog. “Oh, that dog.”
“Is he throwing a tantrum at home because he isn’t full? Or is he chewing on things randomly again?”
“…” Shen Yanzhou recalled the man’s behavior this morning, looking as if he wanted to lick the empty bowl completely clean. He let out a cold sneer. “He certainly isn’t full. He’s the reincarnation of a starving ghost.”
“They’re all like that when they first arrive. He’s just unfamiliar with the place,” Shen Xici smiled, speaking with the tone of someone with experience. “Brother, you’ve never kept one before so you don’t know. A dog that’s just been brought home is at his most sensitive; you have to spend effort coaxing him. Is he sick? Should I have my assistant contact a few reliable vets?”
“No need for a vet,” Shen Yanzhou looked at the streetscape flashing past outside. “I think it’s his brain that needs treating.”
“Huh? That serious?” Shen Xici was a bit surprised. “Then it really is a hassle.”
“But brother, since you’ve taken him in, have a little patience,” Shen Xici lamented. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to keep a Golden Retriever myself. Word is they’re obedient and protective of the home. I just didn’t expect… keeping a dog would be this troublesome, requiring constant monitoring.”
Obidient? Protective? Shen Yanzhou thought of those pitch-black, bottomless, yet occasionally innocent puppy eyes.
“Xici,” he turned his head, staring at his younger brother with a haunting gaze. “Take a word of advice from your brother.”
“Whatever you do, never pick up a stray dog and bring him home.”
Tsim Sha Tsui, Top Floor of the Peninsula Hotel, “Tian” VIP Suite.
Master Lai sat firmly on a red sandalwood armchair, dressed in a dark red Tang suit, rolling two polished walnut shells in his hand. His eyes were half-closed as he listened to two women in cheongsams strumming a traditional melody on their pipas.
Sitting directly below him was the new leader of the Lianyishe, Lei Hu.
The man was a brute with a face full of rough flesh and a gold chain as thick as a finger hanging around his neck. Two buttons of his shirt were popped open, exposing a chest full of dark hair. With one foot propped on the edge of his chair, he held a toothpick, picking out shreds of meat from between his teeth while shooting the breeze with several section heads around him. His gaze was murky and vulgar.
“Hey, what time is it already? Why hasn’t that guy surnamed Shen shown his face yet? He sure puts on a massive air.”
Someone nearby chimed in with mockery, his tone dismissive. “Word on the streets is that the current master of the Shen family is a boy who hasn’t even been weaned yet, relying on that face of his to navigate the beds of several big bosses. Can a sickly cripple, whose seat hasn’t even gotten warm, really hold power in a place like the Shen family where people are eaten alive without leaving bones?”
Lei Hu let out a crass chuckle, looking exceptionally greasy. “I caught a glimpse of that beauty once he’s a total knockout, goddamn. That frame, that waist it’s so thin I could snap it with one hand. But the best part is those two legs…”
“Word is that car accident left one of his legs with some residual issues. Think about it, guys a beauty who can’t even walk steadily. If you pin him to the bed, hoist that bad leg over your shoulder, and drive into him brutally… watching him try to run but fail, unable to do anything but cry and beg for mercy…”
“Hahaha! Trust Tiger Bro to know how to play!” A wave of vulgar laughter erupted inside the suite.
“Cough.”
From the head seat, a thick cough rumbled from the throat of the seemingly asleep Master Lai.
“Hu-zi, show some respect with your mouth.” He picked up his covered tea bowl, using the lid to skim the floating foam, his tone betraying no emotion. “The man holds the shipping routes to Southeast Asia; he’s our God of Wealth. When he arrives later, make sure things look proper on the surface.”
“God of Wealth?” Lei Hu snorted dismissively. “Godfather, you think entirely too highly of him. It’s our Lianyishe’s world now; his Shen family is just a breaking ship about to sink.”
“Look at this the moment his cargo was seized yesterday, doesn’t he still have to obediently brave the rain to come toast us today?” Lei Hu pulled a short blade from behind his waist, his expression vicious. “If you ask me, we should just swallow that shipping route of his tonight, and then take his person…”
Before he could finish his sentence, the wooden door was pushed open from the outside.
“Master Lai,” Shen Yanzhou spoke, his calm gaze sweeping across the boastful Lei Hu before his lips curled into a cold sneer. “The wind on the road was strong, leaving you all waiting.”
“Ah, Mr. Shen!” Seeing him enter, Master Lai broke into a wide smile, his benevolent features making him look exactly like a kindly neighborhood grandpa seeing a junior coming to ask for a red envelope. “To think you’d grace us with your presence in such heavy rain this is truly putting gold on my old face.” His gaze crossed Shen Yanzhou’s shoulder, lingering on Shen Xici for a moment before slowly pulling back.
“It is Master Lai’s birthday. I had matters to attend to earlier, so I took the time now to drop off a belated gift.”
“Quick, take a seat!” Master Lai waved his hand, pointing to the empty spot to his left. “Mr. Shen’s physical constitution is precious, and your legs aren’t convenient. If something goes wrong from standing too long, those shareholders outside will probably tear my old bones apart.”
Shen Yanzhou’s expression remained unchanged, acting as if he hadn’t caught the thorn in those words as he sat down steadily.
“So this is Director Shen,” Lei Hu sitting opposite spoke, his murky, bull-like eyes放肆ly carving a circle across Shen Yanzhou’s pale, delicate face. “He truly is—”
“Grown to look so beautiful it makes one’s heart ache.”
Shen Yanzhou turned his head slightly. “And this is?”
“This is my godson, Lei Hu,” Master Lai introduced with a smile. “He’s currently managing the affairs of the Lianyishe. He’s got a hot temper; Mr. Shen, please bear with him.”
“Oh,” Shen Yanzhou responded tonelessly, the corners of his mouth lifting into an exceptionally shallow smile. “The very ‘concerned citizen’ who reported my company for smuggling and seized several thousand tons of my cargo?”
The rough flesh on Lei Hu’s face twitched, a vicious light surfacing in his eyes. “Mr. Shen, I can’t dare carry the title of ‘concerned citizen.’ It was simply that the paperwork for that batch of cargo was incomplete, and I feared it would tarnish the Shen family’s clean reputation.”
With that, he grabbed an unopened bottle of liquor, used his teeth to rip the cap off directly, poured a massive glass, and pushed it before Shen Yanzhou. “Since Mr. Shen has come, shouldn’t you show some respect and drink this cup to celebrate the Old Master’s birthday? Once you drink this, we can discuss the matter of that shipping route.”
Lei Hu grinned savagely, his gaze clearly stating: If you refuse a polite toast, you’ll be forced to drink a forfeit.
Shen Xici’s expression shifted, and just as he was about to step forward, Shen Yanzhou raised a hand to stop him. He didn’t even lift his eyelids, pushing the glass aside. “Mr. Lei, I believe you’ve confused one thing. I came to pay my respects to Master Lai, not to see you.”
“Today, I came to inform you that our Shen family will temporarily stop utilizing that shipping route.”
The moment those words left his mouth, a clamor erupted through the room. Even Master Lai, who had been resting with closed eyes, paused his hand rolling the walnuts, his murky old eyes snapping open to reveal a sharp glint.
“Are you playing me?!” Lei Hu slammed the table hard, rising abruptly. “Shen Yanzhou, do you have any idea how much money that business involves? That is—”
“That is the golden waterway leading to the Golden Triangle, with annual profits exceeding one billion,” Shen Yanzhou cut in smoothly, his tone as flat as if he were reading a financial statement. “But that is on the premise that the ship bears the surname Shen.”
He leaned forward slightly, staring at Master Lai’s shifting face. “Master Lai, you are an expert. You should know that the reason that shipping route is valuable isn’t because the water is deep or the ships are large. It’s because the various ports along Malacca and the Gulf of Thailand only recognize the Shen family’s clearance document stamped with the Bauhinia emblem.”
“That is a network built by generations of the Shen family using money and lives. If I announce tomorrow that the Shen family is indefinitely suspending operations on the Southeast Asian route, and submit a shipping safety hazard report to Interpol requesting a six-month joint blockade exercise on that route…”
Shen Yanzhou looked at Lei Hu’s instantly pale face and let out a soft laugh. “Mr. Lei, those ‘goods’ you have hoarded in your warehouse will begin to stink and rot in less than three days. Not only will you fail to earn a single cent, but you will also face massive compensation claims and hunts from your buyers.”
“This is what I wanted to say,” Shen Yanzhou spread his hands, his gaze as cold as ice. “If I can’t eat this meat comfortably, then I’d rather smash the pot so nobody gets to eat.”
“You want to crash the ship?!” Driven to a frantic rage, Lei Hu reached toward the piece behind his waist.
“Hold it!” The silent Master Lai suddenly let out a violent roar.
Master Lai slammed the walnut shells heavily onto the table, his old eyes staring deathly at Shen Yanzhou, as if trying to pierce through this young man’s skin. The suite was terrifyingly quiet. After a long silence, Master Lai suddenly burst into a dry laugh. “Good. A fine ‘so nobody gets to eat.'”
Master Lai waved his hand for Lei Hu to step down, personally picked up the liquor, and poured a glass for Shen Yanzhou. He pushed the cup over. “Mr. Shen, everyone is just seeking wealth. The shipping route remains yours. The Lianyishe only wants a 30% cut, and we will handle all future security along this line. What does Mr. Shen think?”
This was a concession. Yet Shen Yanzhou didn’t reach for the glass immediately, staring at it quietly for a moment before extending his slender, pale fingers to raise the cup, taking a shallow sip.
“Twenty percent.”
“Furthermore, I will not transport any contraband.”
Lei Hu was about to flare up again, but Master Lai glared him back with a single look. “Deal,” Master Lai finalized cleanly. A crisis that had been on the verge of an explosive fallout vanished into nothingness within a few flippant lines of dialogue.
Shen Yanzhou stood up, personally filling the liquor glass to the brim. “This cup is to Master Lai’s grand birthday.” With that, he drained it in one gulp. “Since we have reached an agreement, I won’t disturb Master Lai’s elegant mood further.” He turned to leave.
“Mr. Shen,” Master Lai suddenly spoke behind his back.
Shen Yanzhou’s steps paused slightly.
Master Lai resumed rolling the walnuts in his hand, his gaze falling on Shen Yanzhou’s thin yet ramrod-straight silhouette. A layer of meaningful calculation surfaced in his murky old eyes.
“Young man, ruthless enough, and clever enough,” he said slowly. “To secure that 20% cut just now, you spent no small amount of effort. Since we are now in the same boat, I have a piece of ‘aged cargo’ to offer Mr. Shen as a return gift.”
Shen Yanzhou turned around, his brow furrowing slightly. “What is your meaning, Master Lai?”
Master Lai rolled the walnuts, lamenting: “That ruthless spirit of yours just now truly carries the flavor of your father back in the day. A pity that what is too rigid breaks easily; back then, Brother Shen was simply too unyielding, which was why he caught the eye of King Yama.” A strange glint flashed in his murky eyes as his lips hitched into a mock-smile. “If it hadn’t been for that yacht accident back then, the current Shen family would likely have already taken the top seat in this Hong Kong.”
Shen Yanzhou’s spine went rigid for a split second, his voice cold. “Ten years have passed already. Life and death are dictated by fate.”
“Life and death are dictated by fate? Heh, only those who are utterly powerless believe in fate.” Master Lai raised his tea cup, blowing lightly on the floating foam. “Everyone else thinks it was an accident. To think even you believed it was merely an accident?”
The phrase stabbed precisely into his most sensitive nerve. Shen Yanzhou snapped around, staring deathly at the old man sitting in the shadows. “What exactly does Master Lai mean by those words? Do you know something?”
Master Lai turned his head toward the pitch-black curtain of rain outside the window, his gaze shifting to a distant past. “That day, the rain was just as heavy.”
“Before they set sail, I saw your father arguing with someone at the docks. They were arguing fiercely. That man looked goddamn terrifying, his left hand only had three fingers… Everyone on the streets called him ‘Limping Ho.'”
Limping Ho? Three fingers?
Shen Yanzhou’s face turned completely bloodless in an instant.
Ten years ago, the private yacht Poseidon carrying his parents had sunk during a storm on the high seas. The maritime report stated “extreme weather and mechanical failure.” Everyone claimed it was an accident, but he had refused to believe it. Was it truly man-made?
An intense sensation of suffocation triggered a wave of spasms in his stomach, the stress response brought by his PTSD leaving him almost unable to breathe.
“Who is he… that Limping Ho… where is he now?”
“That, I don’t know,” Master Lai spread his hands. “Back then, he was a ruthless character inside the Kowloon Walled City, but he vanished without a trace long ago.”
The Kowloon Walled City? The place where the dog in his house originated?
“Many thanks… Master Lai.”
Master Lai’s voice was pitched incredibly low, carrying a deceptive chill. “Mr. Shen, the waters of this Hong Kong are far murkier than you imagine. Some fish hide at the bottom for ten years without moving simply because they haven’t caught the scent of blood.”
“Now that you are taking power, I’m afraid certain old accounts can no longer be avoided.”
…
By the time they returned to the Shallow Water Bay villa, it was already 1:00 AM.
“Brother, we’ve arrived.” Shen Xici cut the engine and turned his head, his gaze settling on his brother’s face.
The dim interior light of the car cast down. Shen Yanzhou tilted his head back slightly, his fragile neck tracing a long, elegant curve. His adam’s apple rolled up and down with his rapid breaths, every rise and fall catching the scrutiny of anyone watching. The alcohol left him looking with a breathtaking sense of fragility; the tie that was usually knotted meticulously had been yanked loose, and two buttons at his collar were undone, exposing his deep-set collarbones which flushed with a wanton crimson.
Stripped of his usual ascetic restraint, he looked as if he had fallen directly into an ocean of desire.
“Xici, come give me a hand,” Shen Yanzhou’s voice was raspy to an extreme degree.
Shen Xici’s throat felt dry. He immediately exited the vehicle and pulled open the rear passenger door. Shen Yanzhou extended one long leg, but due to his weak feet, he stumbled. Shen Xici was quick, locking his arm around the man’s waist.
The moment he touched him, Shen Xici’s heart hammered wildly.
So thin.
Separated by the couture shirt fabric, the waist beneath his palm felt exceptionally resilient, yet scalding hot. The massive weight of Shen Yanzhou’s body pressed entirely against him, his hot breath puffing against the side of his neck, carrying a heavy scent of liquor.
“Brother… you’re drunk.”
He supported Shen Yanzhou up the steps, moving incredibly slowly with every pace. His hand stroked against the side of Shen Yanzhou’s waist, even gathering the courage to quietly shift upward a few inches, touching his warm spine through the thin shirt. Shen Yanzhou was entirely oblivious, his brow tightly furrowed as if caught in some painful memory, his lips slightly agape as he panted.
Reaching the dim sconce light beneath the veranda, Shen Xici stopped his steps.
The light and shadows were mottled. Shen Yanzhou leaned back into his embrace, his head tilted back, exposing his fragile neck completely before his eyes. Beneath the pale skin, blue veins were faintly visible, and that small, exquisite adam’s apple trembled defenselessly.
So intensely sensual.
He only had to lower his head to press his lips against it… Even just a brief touch…
As if possessed, Shen Xici slowly lowered his head, his lips trembling as he moved toward the neck—when a hand suddenly cut through the space.
It was a hand with large knuckles, the veins on the back bulging violently, carrying a savage power. Like an iron clamp, it locked dead onto Shen Yanzhou’s shoulder and jerked him back violently.
“Who?!” Caught completely off guard, Shen Xici snapped his head around, coming face-to-face with a pair of pitch-black, deep eyes that resembled a starving wolf’s.
In the shadows, this excessively tall man was cradling Shen Yanzhou with one arm, shielding the person securely within his own embrace.
Shen Xici froze.
The man before him was wearing a black suit that was far from perfectly tailored; his broad shoulders and back stretched the cheap material taut, and the buttons of the white shirt were strained, outlining the contours of chest muscles packed with explosive power beneath. The collar was casually left open, exposing bronzed skin. Wild, dangerous, yet drop-dead handsome.
He had no idea when such a person had appeared at his brother’s side.
“Who are you? Release my brother!” Shen Xici said coldly.
The man didn’t acknowledge him at all. He kept his head lowered, his gaze falling entirely on the face of the Shen Yanzhou cradled in his arms. His large hand gently pulled the slipping coat tight around him, his voice deep and raspy. “Master, it’s cold outside.”
Shen Yanzhou cleared up a fraction. He felt himself shift from one embrace into another that was broader, hotter, and harder. The familiar scent of soap and earth strangely soothed the churning in his stomach. He forced his eyelids open with effort, his focus centering on the sharply chiseled face before him, before moving down the man’s rigid jawline to the ill-fitting suit on his frame.
He suddenly let out a brief laugh, his hand lifting softly as his fingertips tapped lightly against the man’s tense chest muscles.
“Told you to buy clothes…” Shen Yanzhou’s eyes rippled. “You certainly bought them quickly.”
“Dressing up neat.”
The phrase was meant to be a jab, yet emerging from his liquor-flushed lips, it carried an indescribable intimacy and flirtatiousness. The man’s adam’s apple rolled violently, his gaze darkening instantly as his hand holding Shen Yanzhou’s shoulder tightened unconsciously.
“Thank you for the compliment, Master,” he responded in a low voice.
“Brother! Who exactly is he?”
“Xici,” Shen Yanzhou cut him off. “He’s exactly what I told you the dog I just bought.”
“You’ve had a tiring day today too. Head back first; I grant you a day off tomorrow.”
“Brother!” Shen Xici took a step forward.
In the next second, the man’s arm cradling Shen Yanzhou suddenly tightened. He took a step sideways, shielding Zhao Yisen completely behind his bulk, blocking Shen Xici’s view entirely.
“Didn’t you hear? Master told you to beat it.”
“You!”
The noise gave Shen Yanzhou a headache. He reached out to pat the man’s rigid arm. “Don’t argue. Carry me inside, I want to sleep.”
The man was incomparably compliant. “Yes.”
The moment the word fell, he bent down, sliding one hand behind the bend of Shen Yanzhou’s knees and the other supporting his back, hoisting him up into a horizontal carry effortlessly before turning toward the villa entrance.
Reaching the steps of the doorway, the man suddenly paused his feet. He seemed to recall something, not entering immediately but slowly turning his body around.
Below the steps, Shen Xici was staring deathly at them, his gaze glued to the waistline exposed by the movement.
The man stared down at Shen Xici, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into a smile. Then, under Shen Xici’s shocking gaze, the man lowered his head, his lips pressing slowly against the very adam’s apple that Shen Xici had nearly touched moments ago.
“Mmh…” Locked in his embrace, Shen Yanzhou let out a strained, muffled grunt from the sensitivity, his neck instinctively arching backward, which only delivered his vital point deeper into the contact.
The man didn’t pull away immediately. He opened his mouth, using his teeth to gently grind against that protruding cartilage, even extending a wet, hot tongue tip to lick it in an intensely sensual manner.
He lifted his head, his gaze dark, brooding, and triumphant as he looked down at the iron-faced Shen Xici below the steps, wordlessly shaping his lips to form a single syllable:
“Get out.”