As soon as Bo Nan stepped into the study, Bo Yizhen’s first words were: “You did this, didn’t you?”
“Brother, you make me sound like some kind of bandit.” Bo Nan casually snatched an apple from the desk, took a bite, and leaned back into the sofa. He propped his feet on the edge of the coffee table an arrogant gesture, but one that signaled he was in an exceptionally good mood.
Bo Nan didn’t deny it, which was as good as a confession.
Bo Yizhen recalled the news he had just received and felt a chill. When Bo Nan had told him to move against the Qian family, he had certainly made a killing in the market, but now that the grim details were trickling in, he felt a genuine sense of dread.
The Qian family had tried to keep it under wraps, claiming the Old Master and the young grandson died in a car accident. But secrets in Suzhou have a way of leaking. Someone had paid a maid to talk, and the story of the two being “skewered like a kebab” had spread like wildfire.
According to the maid, the scene was bizarre—as if the King of Hell himself were standing behind them with a stopwatch. The Old Master’s cane, made of iron-hard wood that no adult could snap by hand, had simply broken during normal use. A jagged shard pierced his heart. The grandson, seeing this, rushed to help, only to slip on the blood and fall directly onto the remaining upright shard. Both died instantly.
It wasn’t murder; it was an “accident” so precise it was terrifying.
Bo Yizhen wasn’t afraid of Bo Nan’s ruthlessness; he was afraid of whether Bo Nan had left a trail. “Did you sweep your tracks clean?”
Bo Nan shook his head. “Mmm… not yet. It’s not over. Once it’s finished, I won’t even need to sweep.”
“Aren’t you afraid of being found out?” Bo Yizhen snapped.
Bo Nan paused, a thin smile playing on his lips. “Even if they find out, so what? Can they convict me based on… metaphysics?”
He actually wanted them to know to make anyone else thinking of touching the Bo family weigh whether their ancestral graves or family manors could withstand the retaliation of a Feng Shui master. Doing this case by case was exhausting; he preferred a deterrent.
Bo Yizhen was silent for a long time. “Tell me your plan. I need to know the bottom line.”
Bo Nan took another bite of the apple. “There are at least two or three families who want to take a bite out of us. I’m not letting any of them go. Leave this to me, brother. You handle the business. If they come at us face-to-face, we compete fairly. If they come at us with shadows…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, but Bo Yizhen understood perfectly. He looked at his younger brother with a complex expression. “…Just be careful.”
“I will.” Bo Nan tilted his head. “The funeral is tomorrow. You and Dad stay home. I’ll go alone… I need to tie up the loose ends.”
“It’s about time.”
The Qian family held the funeral on the third day.
As one of the titans of Suzhou, the Bo family received an invitation despite the recent predatory moves in the business sector. On the surface, everyone still played the game of “polite society.”
Through some unknown persuasion, Bo Yizhen convinced their father to stay home, leaving Bo Nan to represent the family. His brother really was reliable.
Bo Nan chose to arrive late in the afternoon. The real show wouldn’t start until dusk.
The funeral followed the standard script: names announced, families weeping, flowers offered, bows given. In a house like the Qians’, you didn’t even need to bring your own flowers; a servant handed them to you at the door. Next to the mourning hall was a buffet lounge for guests to rest.
Bo Nan spotted Li Zhou at the entrance, who was there with his father. Bo Nan sidled up to him. “Ah Zhou!”
“Holy ” Li Zhou stopped himself, catching his father’s murderous glare, and pivoted smoothly. “Nan, you’re here too.”
“Hello, Uncle Li!” Bo Nan greeted Li Zhou’s father with perfect etiquette. Since the greeting party assumed Bo Nan was with the Li family, they let him in without further questions once the Lis had signed in.
Li Zhou took two bouquets from a servant and tried to hand one to Bo Nan. Bo Nan smiled but didn’t take it. Li Zhou hissed in a low voice, “Old Bo, don’t tell me you’re here to cause trouble today? Look, Qian Cheng was a bastard, but if you start something in his mourning hall, you’ll be beaten out of here in two seconds, believe me.”
The Bo family’s recent ruthlessness—tearing a massive chunk of flesh out of the Qian family while they were down—was common knowledge. Li Zhou assumed the Bo family sent their “unemployed playboy son” just to fulfill the social obligation without making it too awkward. “Just take the flowers. It’s for the Old Master, consider it a polite gesture.”
Bo Nan’s smile deepened. “I’m not here to see them off.”
“Then what are you here for?” Li Zhou grabbed his arm. “Don’t do anything crazy!”
“Relax. It won’t splash on you.”
Li Zhou gave him a thumbs-up of pure disbelief. “Fine! Just stay away from me when the sh*t hits the fan. I don’t want my dad killing me by association.”
Bo Nan thought for a second. “Actually, you should stay close to me. I guarantee your dad will be praising you by the time you get home.”
Li Zhou sucked in a breath like he had a toothache and promptly moved two steps away. His left cheek said ‘I don’t know him,’ his right cheek said ‘I know nothing,’ and his forehead practically read ‘I don’t believe a word you say.’
Bo Nan chuckled and melted into the crowd. Most guests didn’t recognize him; he had been away for school for years, and even before that, he was a recluse who avoided social gatherings.
“The Qians never did much to earn good karma. This is just retribution,” someone whispered. “Tell me about it,” another added, looking far too excited for a funeral. “The Old Master was one thing, but with the grandson gone too… the power struggle between the first and second sons is going to be a bloodbath.”
The conversation eventually turned to the Bo family. Bo Nan perked up.
“Where are the Bos anyway? I haven’t seen them.” “Are you joking? Bo Weiping is a ‘gentleman.’ His son is currently gutting the Qian family’s assets; he wouldn’t have the face to show up.” “True, but Bo Yizhen is a different beast entirely. Far more ruthless than his father.”
Bo Nan noted that his brother’s reputation for ruthlessness was solidifying. Good.
The clock ticked toward 4:55 PM. Bo Nan used the excuse of a business matter to pull Li Zhou and his father onto the balcony.
As the clock struck five, the sun began its final descent, and within moments, the sky turned a bruised, bloody red.
It was the hour of You the time of dusk when Yin and Yang exchange places and the world’s Qi is at its most chaotic.
The most dangerous time.
Li He, Li Zhou’s father, looked at Bo Nan curiously. “Nan, what was it you wanted to discuss?”
Bo Nan pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Li He. “Uncle, my brother wanted me to ask you something. He’s been so busy lately he didn’t want to insult you by sending a secretary, so he asked me to check: he’d like to discuss a joint venture. If you’re interested, he’ll visit you personally tomorrow.”
Li He was confused. He had spoken to Bo Yizhen just yesterday, and the man hadn’t mentioned a thing. “Really? He didn’t say anything to me on the phone.”
Bo Nan didn’t look embarrassed at all. He just smiled. “Maybe I remembered it wrong then…”
Before the words could fully leave his mouth, a blood-curdling scream tore through the hall.
The three men looked through the glass. The crowd was in a frenzy. Li He tried to rush back inside, but Bo Nan’s hand was already on the balcony door, pulling it shut and holding it firm.
The chaos lasted only seconds before a terrifying silence fell. The guests pressed themselves against the walls, leaving a wide, empty space in the center.
In the middle stood a man in a nondescript suit. He had his arm locked around a man’s neck, while his other hand held something pressed into the man’s back. Security lunged forward, but froze.
A soft, almost silent tearing sound followed. The man released his grip, and his captive slumped to the floor. The assailant leaned down and, with a terrifying lack of emotion, pulled a gleaming blade from the fallen man’s back.
The blade was exquisite. Even as it was pulled from a human body, it remained pristine no blood clung to it. It shone with a cold, sharp light that made one’s eyes ache.
This was the third body.
From the balcony, they could see exactly who was lying on the floor.
Qian Hewang, Qian Helai, and Qian Yu.
The first son, the second son, and the last remaining male heir of the Qian family.
The entire direct male line of the Qian family lay dead in a pool of blood.
Li He instinctively looked at the young man beside him. Bo Nan was smiling a gentle, refined, almost weary smile but his eyes, watching the carnage through the glass, were as calm as a still lake. It was as if he had seen the script long before the play began.