Under the hazy night sky and shimmering lights, fifteen kilometers from Jiangcheng, a sweltering summer night enveloped the boxing arena, where roars and passionate shouts echoed from all directions.
The uniquely shaped building was bathed in lights under the night sky, with countless interconnected searchlights intersecting in the air to form various patterns.
Inside the spacious venue, the enthusiastic roars of the audience filled the air as boxers on the stage, wearing red and blue gloves, sparred with each other.
This was Nanhuang, the most elite underground boxing arena in all of Jiangcheng and even the entire Dongzhou region.
Most of the boxers who emerged from here went on to dominate the top ranks of various boxing competitions, reaching championship-level status.
This place never lacked life-or-death struggles, nor did it ever lack champions.
Naturally, an arena of this caliber wasn’t accessible to just anyone. The price of a single ticket each night reached tens of thousands.
Only two types of people could enter this place: VIP users with high-end black cards and boxers who made their living here.
The former relied on money, the latter on their lives.
Money and blood intertwined, awakening the deepest, most decadent desires of human nature and stirring a maddening thrill.
In a high-end private box overlooking the entire spectator stands, a figure in a wheelchair slowly emerged, silhouetted against the light.
Through the interplay of light and shadow, it was clear that the person in the wheelchair was a slender girl.
Below, on the ring, fighters engaged in fierce combat, their sweat and the scent of blood spreading, driving the surrounding spectators into a frenzy.
“Congratulations, Miss Ye—you’ve won!”
The girl in the wheelchair nodded in satisfaction and took the tablet handed to her.
Seeing her actions, the manager standing nearby spoke hesitantly, “Miss Ye, Mr. Ye said you weren’t answering your calls and has frozen your account.”
Hearing this, Ye Fei lowered her head to glance at the phone lying on the glass coffee table. Its screen was still glowing, displaying three missed calls.
All from the same name: Ye Yanxia.
As she prepared to place another bet, the manager spoke up again to remind her.
“Miss Ye, Mr. Ye said your card can no longer be used.”
At Nanhuang, there was only one rule for guests: money. Without it, you were nothing.
Hearing this, Ye Fei raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips as she looked at the manager. “What? Do you think I’m poor?”
“That’s not what I meant,” the manager replied politely.
Miss Ye Fei had first appeared at Nanhuang two weeks ago, spending millions every night.
They naturally knew her identity, as last month’s biggest news in Jiangcheng was the return of the Ye family’s eldest branch’s daughter, who had been missing for fifteen years.
The Ye family of Jiangcheng was a genuine wealthy dynasty, not short on money.
But there was one thing: although Ye Fei was indeed the only daughter of the Ye family’s eldest branch, everyone knew that since her father’s death, the current head of the Ye family was her own uncle.
Now, as an orphan, even if she had been found, what could she do? Her status was never equal to that of the current head’s daughter, and she remained tightly controlled.
Ye Fei paid no mind and placed her bet on the tablet. The manager glanced down and saw she had chosen a new boxer with no record of wins.
“Are you sure you want to choose this one, Miss Ye?” the manager asked, taking the tablet to remind her again. “But your account…”
Ye Fei made a gesture, and the young man beside her took out a card from his wallet while speaking, “Boss, consider this money a loan from me.”
The manager glanced at the card in his hand, half-doubtingly handed it to an employee nearby.
After receiving a confirming look from the employee, he politely exited the private room.
“Enjoy your time.”
Jing Chu watched coldly as the manager walked out. “With the Ye family’s meager wealth, it’s uncertain whether you’d even bother with it, yet this person dared to question whether you have money.”
He really wanted to crush this person with money.
Hearing this, Ye Fei raised her hand and snapped her fingers at him. The young man obediently leaned in, only to have his head pressed down by her.
“Remember the persona. Right now, I’m the orphaned daughter of the Ye family’s main branch—no parents, no money.”
Jing Chu obediently agreed, “Don’t worry, Boss. My lips are sealed. I won’t tell anyone that you have a lot of money.”
For now, what the boss needs to do is lie low and recuperate. Revealing her identity would only invite trouble—she can’t be too reckless.
Ye Fei chuckled softly and released her grip. Before she could say anything more, she was drawn by the cheers from below.
During the intermission, all the lights suddenly went out, leaving only the one illuminating the ring. In the darkness, a tall, slender figure pulled back the ropes and stepped up.
Holding a red boxing glove in one hand, he turned and leaned against the ropes of the ring. As the light shifted, the man’s exquisitely handsome profile came into view.
Unlike his opponent, who was shirtless and heavily muscled, he wore a gray casual outfit. His figure was slender, and as he lowered his head to fasten his gloves, the wrist bone he revealed was as pale as porcelain.
More importantly, he exuded an aura entirely different from the heated excitement around him—a kind of lofty, detached superiority that looked down upon the world without truly engaging with it.
“Jing Chu, who is that?” Ye Fei became intrigued.
The presence he carried was unlike any other fighter who had stepped into the ring.
Every fighter who stood on that platform was restless, bloodthirsty, and fierce.
His calm, effortless movements didn’t just suggest disregard for his opponent—it was an innate, solitary aloofness that seemed to look down upon all living beings.
Jing Chu flipped through the records, finding only a few sparse lines. “Boss, this is a new fighter. He hasn’t stepped into the ring yet, and there isn’t even a photo in the records—just his age and height.”
Ye Fei took it and glanced over it. With such empty information, no one would place bets on him. And if no one placed bets, he wouldn’t be able to fight.
Most people who came here were drawn by top-tier fighters. Nowadays, half of the famous top fighters on the continent came from this place.
In such a gathering of big shots, it was hard for a small-time fighter to stand out—they either needed exceptional skill or powerful backing.
“Boss, even when you randomly place bets with your eyes closed, you should at least check the records. We can’t just throw money away like this.”
Even if it was Boss Wen’s money.
“Bet another million,” Ye Fei suddenly said.
Jing Chu looked at the man in the ring, then at Ye Fei, and suddenly understood.
The boss had always been fond of beautiful things, and that man was exceptionally good-looking.
As the million-dollar bet was placed, the light on the big screen flickered instantly.
The opponent across the ring looked at the man before him, who seemed frail in comparison, and snorted, “A rookie?”
Then, without any courtesy, he sized him up with a scrutinizing gaze—like appraising merchandise—with a hint of lewdness.
“Kid, you’re the best-looking face I’ve ever seen in this boxing ring, but that’s not a good thing here.”
The man opposite lowered his head, biting the strap with his teeth to secure his gloves before raising his gaze.
Under the lights, the slight curve of his lips was truly breathtakingly beautiful.
The next second, the entire arena erupted into frenzied shouts, the lights swirling dazzlingly, and the surrounding crowd was stirred by the scent of blood, awakening their most primal ferocity.
The shouts from below grew increasingly wild, and the battle on the stage intensified, accompanied by the spreading of a thick, bloody odor.
The fight came to an end.
The underestimated man took only three moves to knock his opponent to the ground.
The man sprawled on the floor continuously vomited blood, trembling and struggling but unable to rise.
The referee’s voice concluded the match: this round, Number Thirty-Nine had won.
In that moment when he glanced back, Ye Fei saw a flash of fierce aggression and a swiftly withdrawn killing intent.
“Pretty good,” she suddenly remarked.
Listening to Ye Fei’s words, Jing Chu nodded thoughtfully.
The boss had taken an interest in that kid below.
As Wen Boss had said, during their time in Jiangcheng, he must take good care of the boss—and how to care for her?
Of course, by keeping the boss happy!