For Nie Zhenzhen, the next two days were pure torment, every minute and every second an agony.
From morning on, a taut string in her mind began to tighten.
She kept listening for sounds outside the door, dreading the approach of those familiar footsteps.
Though logic told her that what was coming would come regardless.
Her consciousness still betrayed her, watching uncontrollably.
This restless dread, like waiting for a verdict, was unbearable.
The injection process, though it lasted only a few short minutes in total.
Was nothing short of a slow flaying for her.
Just thinking about that needle-pricking sensation made her scalp crawl.
Thankfully, the ordeal was finally over.
Nie Zhenzhen stared at her chest for a long time, feeling as though she had been forced into breast augmentation surgery.
Only, she wondered if it would bounce back.
The girl was amused by her own nonsensical thought—no, it was more of a helpless, bitter smile.
Just as Nie Zhenzhen lay quietly on the bed, her mind beginning to wander uncontrollably.
The sound of a convoy, both unfamiliar and familiar, came from not far outside the Compound.
The girl didn’t think much of it, continuing to sink into her own little world.
But what she didn’t know was that in the rear main seat of the Knight XV in that convoy.
The distinguished man would decide the course of her future fate.
The long convoy of off-road vehicles slowly drove into the Compound. Heavy tires rolled over the fine sand and gravel on the main road, producing a low, muffled grinding sound, stirring up a thin veil of dust around them.
The entire convoy exuded a steady, solemn gravity that commanded respect.
The convoy finally came to a smooth stop before the main stilted building.
Zaisang, along with a crowd of his underlings and guards, had long been waiting at the door.
Today, he was uncharacteristically dressed in a white formal suit. Due to his portly build, his belly bulged high, straining the white shirt beneath to its limit.
Combined with his dark complexion and oily demeanor, the outfit only accentuated a jarring sense of incongruity.
His assistant, A-Yan, was the first to step out of the vehicle, clad in a crisp, clean black tactical uniform that highlighted his decisiveness and composure.
He strode steadily forward to the rear door of the Knight XV off-roader.
With a firm pull, he opened the door.
Standing respectfully to the side, he waited in silence for the most distinguished man in the main seat.
Zaisang, reading the situation, hurriedly stepped forward two paces, bending his back and waist extremely low, his posture fawning and humble, a careful, ingratiating look hidden in his eyes as he waited respectfully to one side for the man to get out.
A few seconds later, the man in the back stretched out his leg, unhurriedly leaning out and stepping from the vehicle.
The man wore a plain black short-sleeved shirt on top, minimalist tactical cargo pants below, and a pair of gleaming black combat boots on his feet.
He was tall and imposing, with broad shoulders and a wide back, his inverted-triangle silhouette sharply defined.
His chest muscles were full and firm, his abdominal muscles chiseled with clear, deep lines.
His arms bulged with muscle, faint veins rising on his forearms, and the line of his neck was hard and strong.
He radiated an oppressive, wild power, every inch of his physique brimming with explosive force.
He had a face of extreme handsomeness.
His nose was high and straight, his thin lips pressed tightly together, exuding an aloofness that warned others to keep their distance.
His eyes were deep and mysterious, calm and unruffled.
His gaze was sharp and cold, inspiring awe without anger, carrying an oppressive air of looking down from above. Every gesture and movement bore the kingly bearing of one in power.
He was the mysterious top-tier big shot, Li Yantang.
His business spanned the globe, focusing on investments, with connections in both the underworld and the legitimate world.
Under his command was a fully organized armed force.
“Mr. Li, for you to trouble yourself to come in person truly honors me. Please, come inside and rest.”
Zaisang’s face was piled with deliberate, fawning smiles, wrinkles creasing at the corners of his eyes, every expression dripping with sycophancy.
Li Yantang gave Zaisang a cold, sidelong glance without a word.
Surrounded by a crowd of black-suited bodyguards, he walked lazily and leisurely straight toward the main building.
A dark brown leather cord hung loosely from his wrist, its other end tied around the neck of a gray wolf.
The wolf bore none of the ferocity of a wild beast.
Its coat of silver-gray fur gleamed with a cool, moist luster in the fading remnants of the setting sun.
Its ears drooped slightly, and its pupils were a calm amber.
Clearly, it had shed the savagery of its kind, leaving only complete tameness.
It walked steadily at Li Yantang’s side, neither ahead nor behind.
Its massive head occasionally brushed lightly against its master’s dangling hand, its movements as docile as a domesticated dog.
As the gray wolf passed by Zaisang, the hardened man, accustomed to crawling through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, couldn’t help but retreat a few steps in fright.
Li Yantang caught sight of this, and the corner of his mouth curled up involuntarily, a hint of contemptuous sneer in his eyes.
His fingertips gently stroked the soft fur behind the wolf’s ears, his movements unhurried and languid.
Man and wolf, side by side, walked into the main building.
Their shadows stretched long in the afterglow, like a sated beast stepping into its lair.
In an instant, the only sounds left were the soft thud of military boots on the ground, blending with the wolf’s steady breathing—a cold, forbidding pressure that kept strangers at bay, yet carried a unique bond of unspoken understanding.
Li Yantang settled firmly into the main seat on the sofa.
The gray wolf planted its front legs steadily on the floor, folded its hind legs, and sat upright beside him in a proper kneeling posture.
Its tail lay quietly coiled around its paws, its demeanor obedient and composed, radiating complete submission.
“Mr. Li, thank you for delivering my goods back to me the other day.”
“As a token of my gratitude, I’d like to offer you this rare, top-quality item. I hope you won’t think it unworthy.”
Zaisang spoke first, breaking the silence in the room.
Li Yantang adjusted his sitting position, leaning back lazily and comfortably against the sofa.
His legs were slightly apart, and he said nothing—just lowered his head and idly toyed with the large ruby ring on his middle finger.
Seeing that the man hadn’t refused, Zaisang turned to his subordinate behind him and ordered,
“Go on, clean her up properly and bring her out.”
Fifteen minutes later.
Nie Zhenzhen had been forced into a wine-red, form-fitting tube dress.
The dress hugged the girl’s slender figure, neither too loose nor too tight, accentuating her delicate collarbones, slim waist, and rounded hips.
Her silhouette curved with soft elegance, making her appear all the more graceful and captivating.
The girl stood dazed at the doorway, eyes lowered, hands nervously twisting the hem of her skirt, her entire body trembling slightly.
“What are you standing there for? Get over here and serve Mr. Li a drink.”
Zaisang spoke first, his tone carrying a hint of impatience.
Nie Zhenzhen was startled into a jolt. The moment she looked up, she saw a familiar face—one she would recognize even if it were burned to ashes!
“You… why are you here?!”
The girl pointed at A-Yan, who stood in attendance beside Li Yantang, her face full of disbelief.
A-Yan’s lips were pressed together, expressionless, not even a flicker of emotion in her eyes.
Li Yantang glanced at the girl indifferently, as if recalling the scene from that night. So it was her…
“What are you dawdling for?! Pour the drink!”
Zaisang’s tone grew increasingly impatient.
Nie Zhenzhen dared not delay any longer. Her fingertips trembling slightly, she stepped forward with the wine cup in hand, her heart squeezed tight by an invisible pressure.
She kept her eyes lowered, not daring to meet Li Yantang’s gaze.
Carefully, she leaned forward, trying to pour the wine from her cup into the one on the table.
But the tremor in her fingers was impossible to suppress. Her wrist gave a slight jerk, and the amber liquid splashed out instantly.
Most of it spilled onto the gray wolf sitting beside her, drawing a long “awooo” from the animal as it shook its head.
Nie Zhenzhen’s body went rigid. Her breath stopped short, and her face turned deathly pale.
She jerked her head up, her eyes filled with panic and helplessness, lips pressed tight, even her fingertips going white with tension. An apology caught in her throat—she was too nervous to speak.
But her overwhelming instinct to survive left her no time to dwell on it.
She hurried over to the gray wolf, carefully bending down.
Her palm gently rested on the wolf’s furry head, her fingers stroking through its soft fur with light, tender movements—gentle and delicate, carrying a soothing warmth.
The wolf was thoroughly enjoying the girl’s touch, letting out soft, warm whimpers from its throat, contented little sounds—soft and docile.
Once the wolf had calmed down, Nie Zhenzhen grabbed a cloth from the coffee table and gently wiped the spilled wine from its head.
At that moment, she seemed to have completely forgotten she was in danger, her eyes holding only focused composure.
“You… aren’t afraid of the wolf?”
Li Yantang glanced down at the girl, his voice low as he asked.
“Huh? What?!”
“Isn’t it… a husky?”
Nie Zhenzhen turned to look at Li Yantang, answering timidly.
A layer of confusion spread across her eyes, mixed with the panic of having narrowly escaped death.
Her hands began to tremble slightly, and she instinctively took a few steps back.
“Heh. Interesting.”
Li Yantang couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
“Mr. Li, what do you think?”
“Is this one to your satisfaction?”
“If you like her, feel free to keep her.”
Zaisang, ever skilled at reading the room, eagerly pitched the girl to Li Yantang with a fawning smile.
For a moment, an awkward, eerie silence fell over the surroundings.
“A fool who can’t even tell a wolf from a dog—you’d better keep her for yourself.”
Li Yantang’s words dripped with mockery, instantly shattering the silence.
No unnecessary words.
With that, he rose, and under the protection of his entourage of bodyguards, led the gray wolf away from the stilted house.
“Then… what about our partnership, Mr. Li!”
Zaisang hurried after him, his voice tinged with urgency.
“We’ll talk later.”
Li Yantang coldly tossed out those words before getting into the back seat without looking back.
With the roar of engines starting up, the entire motorcade slowly drove out of The Compound.