“Heh, a drowned dog.” Shen Yanzhou glanced at him, casually tossing over his umbrella, which was dripping with black rainwater.
The man didn’t flinch; he caught the umbrella with precision, ensuring not a single drop of dirty water splashed onto Shen Yanzhou’s tailored trousers. Then, he knelt wordlessly and removed Shen’s leather shoes.
The moment Shen Yanzhou stepped into the villa; his private phone vibrated in his suit pocket. It was Shen Xizhi. He answered while loosening his tie with one hand, heading toward the second floor.
“Speak.”
“Brother, we still can’t settle things at Kwai Chung Pier.” Xizhi’s voice was frantic. “The contact in the South Seas just sent word, and it’s ugly. He said if he doesn’t see that cargo clear customs by midnight tomorrow, he’ll trigger the ‘Delayed Payment Clause.’ The old bastard even threatened to call the Triad elders out for ‘tea’ and report us to the Chamber of Commerce.”
Shen Yanzhou pushed open his bedroom door, tossed his chilled coat onto the floor, and irritably changed into a robe.
“Tell that old fossil that the Shen name has stood in Hong Kong for decades. We worship Lord Guan and we play by the rules. A Shen ship never misses its window, even if it has to sail through a Category 8 typhoon. Tell him to put his heart back in his chest and swallow his complaints.”
“Understood, Brother. I’ll have people pacify him.” Xizhi paused. “Also, Ah Biao just reported back. The security brothers found that cop Liang’s private residence in Kowloon Tong. His mistress said he just bolted.”
“However, an informant saw Liang’s silver Toyota heading toward the abandoned shipyard in West Wan half an hour ago. Ah Biao is already tailing him, and the car is packed with ‘heavy hardware’.”
“Tell Ah Biao to keep his hands clean,” Shen Yanzhou walked to the liquor cabinet, decanting a red wine with one hand. “I don’t want tomorrow’s headlines to be about us doing the OCTB’s (Organized Crime and Triad Bureau) dirty work.”
“Yes, sir.”
Hanging up, Shen Yanzhou tossed the phone onto the dark red velvet sheets. As the adrenaline faded, his body long soaked in alcohol and tobacco began to revolt. His stomach felt as if a clawed hand were tearing at his insides. The pain made the veins at his temples throb, and cold sweat seeped from his pale hairline.
He needed to drink something immediately, even if it was just strong liquor to numb his nerves.
Just as the crystal glass touched his lips, the bedroom door was pushed open silently. The man walked in carrying a tray. He had changed back into last night’s black ribbed tank top, revealing his bulging musculature.
Seeing Shen Yanzhou with his robes half-open, curled on the sofa in pain, the man’s footsteps halted abruptly. Those eyes, which shimmered with an eerie light in the dark, glued themselves to the rise and fall of Shen’s chest. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a desperate thirst.
The look was far too exposed like he wanted to swallow the man whole.
Shen Yanzhou frowned in displeasure, suppressing a stomach spasm. “Thirty Million, haven’t you seen enough? Put the things down and get out.”
The man didn’t leave; instead, he closed the distance by two steps, his shadow looming over Shen.
“Master, did things go poorly tonight?” his voice was raspy.
“Mind your own business.” Shen Yanzhou’s hand shook violently as he tilted his head to down the wine.
A large, calloused hand shot out, ruthlessly clamping onto his wrist with terrifying strength, forcing the glass away from Shen’s lips.
“Drinking on an empty stomach leads to perforation.” The man set the wine aside and picked up a steaming porcelain bowl from the tray. “I made ginger milk curd. The ginger is freshly pressed, and I added double the milk to mask the taste.”
The scent of milk instantly dispelled the cold aroma of the wine. Shen Yanzhou didn’t like the smell. But right now, the agony in his gut left him without the strength to shout.
“I told you to get out. Do you not understand human speech?” His face was deathly pale as he raised a hand to slap the bowl away.
Clang.
The bowl didn’t spill. The man’s broad, thick palm directly met the scalding ceramic, shielding Shen’s hand. Hot ginger milk overflowed, drenching an old scar on the man’s thumb, yet he didn’t even blink. Instead, he took advantage of the momentum to press closer.
A hard, thick knee ruthlessly pried apart Shen Yanzhou’s closed legs, pinning the normally high-and-mighty Master against the rosewood liquor cabinet.
“Master, I beg of you.” He lowered his head, his hot, damp breath ghosting over Shen’s neck. His tone sounded gentle, yet his actions were purely offensive. “Once you’ve finished and have your strength back, you can punish me however you like.”
“You…”
Just as Shen was about to explode, his gaze caught the savage scars on the inside of the man’s wrist at point-blank range. Right over the artery.
He hadn’t seen them clearly last night, but now that the hand was pinning him, he saw they were everywhere. Densely packed knife wounds, cigarette burns some so deep they must have hit bone, healed into crooked, ugly “centipedes” winding over the tanned skin.
What exactly had this hand endured in the Walled City?
The ferocity in Shen Yanzhou’s eyes faded, replaced by a complex, weary recognition of a kindred spirit. He was too tired. The old men outside wanted his flesh; the cops wanted his skin. Only this dog before him though it also wanted to devour him at least currently recognized only one master.
“Give it here.”
Shen Yanzhou gave up his resistance, took the bowl, and drained it. It was hot, spicy, and sweet. The heat slid down his throat, domineeringly dispelling the cold in his stomach. But immediately after, a very faint bitterness one that didn’t belong to the ingredients bloomed at the back of his tongue.
Shen Yanzhou lifted his eyelids to look at the man. Did he put something in this?
Seeing the man’s expressionless face, Shen said nothing and shoved the empty bowl back into his arms. “Get out.”
“Yes, Master.” The man took the bowl with both hands and retreated without further pestering. As the door clicked shut, the room returned to silence.
The familiar insomnia didn’t strike. Instead, an irresistible, heavy drowsiness surged. Shen Yanzhou tried to reach for the files on the nightstand, but his fingers felt as soft as if they didn’t belong to him. The warmth hadn’t just heated his stomach; it flowed through his veins into his entire body, dragging his consciousness into a dark, sweet abyss. His grip on the sheets loosened, and he fell into a deep sleep.
A door away, the man had not left.
Hearing the breathing inside turn steady and rhythmic, he pushed open the door which hadn’t been truly locked once more. He knelt by the bed like a ghost.
His gaze crawled greedily over the open collar of Shen’s silk robe. He slowly lowered his head, extending the tip of his tongue to trace the path where the red wine had spilled earlier, licking slowly and erotically.
The rough texture of his tongue swirled over the delicate skin of the neck, like a predator cleaning its food, wetting the dried wine stains and leaving behind an intensely suggestive trail.
“Mm…” Under the influence of the drug, Shen Yanzhou let out a muffled hum. His slender neck arched back slightly, inadvertently offering his fragile Adam’s apple to the man’s teeth.
The man’s gaze turned lethal. He lightly nipped the protruding cartilage with his canines, grinding slowly until his own breath turned ragged, before pulling away reluctantly.
“So good.” He straightened up, his thumb obsessively stroking the skin he had just dirtied and cleaned. His eyes were filled with a morbid satisfaction.
Then, he stood up and glanced at the “Kwai Chung Pier” file on the nightstand. The obsessive tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling ruthlessness.
Since some “old things” had made his master unhappy… naturally, they all had to be cleared away.
3:30 AM. West Wan, Abandoned Shipyard.
The air was thick with the stench of heavy oil and rotting seaweed. The sea fog was so dense it was impenetrable. In the distance, navigation lights flickered like bloodshot ghost eyes on the black water.
Beneath a massive gantry crane, a rusted iron chain dangled in the air. At the end hung a living person. Inspector Liang’s hands were bound behind his back with thick rope; he hung over the sea like a piece of sun-dried fish. Beneath his feet were the churning, pitch-black waves. Every time a wave hit the concrete pilings, it made a muffled sound like a beast chewing bone.
The man holding his life in his hands sat on an oil-stained mooring bollard on the shore. His back was to the light, long legs resting casually on the coils of rusted chain. The collar of his black trench coat was turned up, hiding most of his face. Only the crimson glow of his cigarette bud flickered in the sea breeze.
“Chief Liang, have you made up your mind?” The man’s voice was low and lazy. “My patience is limited.”
“Cough… Brother… I didn’t recognize your greatness…” Liang was stiff from the wind, his vision blurred by the blood rushing to his head. “Do you know who I am? You touch a cop; the department won’t let it go… You want money, right? Whatever you want, I’ll give it…”
“Money?” The man let out a short, sharp chuckle. He stood up, walked to the edge, and looked down at the hanging Liang like he was looking at a bag of trash. “I don’t lack money. I only want a name. Who told you to seize Master Shen’s cargo?”
Liang shook violently, his head thrashing in denial. “I can’t say! I really can’t! Those people are lunatics. If I talk, my whole family dies! Please, I’m just trying to make a living…”
“Making a living?” The man casually flicked his ash. “Chief Liang, your son is in the third year at St. Paul’s College, isn’t he? Every morning his school bus passes that curve at Mid-Levels. Lots of rain lately roads are slick. If the brakes were to fail and the bus went over the cliff…”
He paused, his tone as gentle as an old friend’s. “Would you call that an accident?”
Liang’s body jerked as if electrocuted. His eyes, previously filled with mere fear, shattered into a look of terminal horror. “You… a man’s family is off-limits! That’s the rule of the streets! You can’t touch my son!”
“Rules?” The man dropped his cigarette and crushed the sparks under his boot. His eyes were filled with violent mockery. “Rules are for people. But I’m a mad dog.”
He tilted his head, a cruel arc curling his lips. “Have you ever seen a mad dog check the lunar calendar before he bites someone?”
Without a single warning, he slammed his hand onto the ‘Down’ button of the winch.
Whirrrr— The motor spun, and the chain plummeted!
“Aaaaargh!!” Liang let out a shriek like a slaughtered pig as he plunged into the freezing sea. The black water swallowed him instantly, leaving only a trail of frantic bubbles.
The man wasn’t in a hurry. He watched his watch, silently counting the seconds while listening to the sound of terminal struggling below. His face remained as still as a frozen pond.
Thirty seconds.
The winch groaned, pulling the man out of the water like a dead hog. Liang vomited up mouthfuls of salty brine, his face turning a dark purple from hypoxia. Snot and tears covered his face.
“Is your mind a bit clearer now?” The man toyed with the switch, making as if to press it again. “I heard there are submerged pilings in this area. The rebar is quite sharp. I wonder if you’ll get impaled on the next trip down.”
“I’ll talk!! I’ll talk!!” The terror of death finally shattered Liang’s last psychological defense. Compared to the people threatening him, the unpredictable lunatic right in front of him was far worse this man was actually going to kill him here!
“It’s the Luen-Yee Triad! It’s the Dragonhead, Thunder Tiger!” Liang screamed, his voice broken. “He held a gun to my head and told me to seize the goods! It really had nothing to do with me!!”
The man’s hand stopped on the switch.
“Luen-Yee… Thunder Tiger.” He chewed the name coldly, a flicker of extreme disgust in his eyes. More rats from the gutter.
He pressed the button to bring Liang all the way up, dumping him heavily onto the oil-stained concrete. Liang slumped there like a pile of rotten mud, without even the strength to shiver.
The man walked over, knelt down, and toyed with a Zippo lighter.
Click. A blue flame jumped up, illuminating his cold, handsome, shadow-filled face. He used the hot metal casing of the lighter to lightly pat Liang’s cold, greasy cheek.
“If you want to live, have the release papers signed and delivered to the company before sunrise.”
Liang shrank back, teeth chattering. “B-but… the Luen-Yee side…”
“That’s your problem.” The man stood up, wiped his fingers with a handkerchief as if he’d touched something filthy, and tossed the expensive cloth into the sea. He turned toward the darkness without looking back.
Just as his figure was about to vanish, his voice carried back on the wind, chilling Liang to the bone:
“Remember. Don’t try any tricks.”
“Master Shen is a Buddhist; he has a good temper.”
“I don’t.”