The night was at its peak, and the Southern Emperor Boxing Arena was bustling with noise and excitement.
Near the Boxer Rest Area, passing boxers either brimmed with fighting spirit or sported bruised and swollen faces.
The man who had already left the ring had washed away the scent of blood from his body, shedding the fleeting ferocity he once carried. Now, an air of aloofness surrounded him, akin to an elegant nobleman.
After taking just two steps, the man was stopped by a youth who rushed out with a serious expression.
“Our boss has taken a liking to you. Name your price.”
The man showed no intention of acknowledging him and moved to step past him, intending to leave.
Jing Chu, thoroughly ignored, chased after him and handed over a business card.
“This is our boss’s number. If you change your mind, call this number. As for the compensation, we can discuss it.”
The man only glanced down briefly before finally reaching out to take the card from his hand.
As the first half ended and the second half was about to begin.
Ye Fei stopped scrolling just as the content on the screen neared the bottom, staring blankly at the mechanically generated profile picture.
Down in the arena, the fight was heating up. Both boxers bore marks on their faces, with sweat and blood mingling and dripping, creating a dizzying spectacle.
She quickly selected the betting option below the picture, casually tossing out a million without a second thought.
For some reason, the side profile of that young man felt familiar, as if she had seen him somewhere before.
The more she thought about it, the more confused she became. Ever since her injury, it felt as though her mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.
“Boss!” Jing Chu pushed the door open energetically and strode in.
Ye Fei looked at the youth whose face was beaming with a smile. “Where have you been?”
Jing Chu walked over and stood beside her, then snapped his fingers. Under his mysterious grin, Ye Fei watched as a line of men filed into the room.
They all appeared to be new boxers, around the same age as Jing Chu, numbering about four or five.
“Boss, what do you think of these guys?” Jing Chu wore an expression of eager anticipation.
Ye Fei looked at the five boxers lined up in a row. Though their appearances varied and they weren’t bad-looking, they were far from refined or handsome.
“Boss, I went to find Number Thirty-Nine, but he turned me down. Since there was no other way, I brought these guys for you, thinking you could pick two from among them.”
As he spoke, Jing Chu wore a look begging for praise.
He had seen right away that the boss had taken a liking to that guy. Since the boss was going to stay in Jiangcheng for a while, bringing him over to serve her every day wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Who would have thought he’d refuse? Just recalling the way he had turned him down made Jing Chu shudder involuntarily.
“You’re saying these boxers are for me?”
“Yeah.” Jing Chu nodded earnestly. “Boss, don’t judge them just because they aren’t as good-looking as Number Thirty-Nine. If quality isn’t enough, we can make up for it with quantity.”
Ye Fei felt a throbbing in her temples. She really had been too lenient with this kid.
Meanwhile, Jing Chu had already begun introducing them enthusiastically, detailing everything from their numbers one through five to their nicknames, ages, and heights.
These men showed no signs of refusal; instead, they appeared completely at ease.
Most boxers here knew the rules. No matter how hard they tried, many remained obscure and unable to rise to fame.
These individuals had to find alternative paths, and quite a few had achieved success and fame by clinging to influential patrons.
After all, those who could enter the VIP Lounge of this place were all people of considerable status.
Thinking this, two of the fighters stepped forward, kneeling on one knee and beginning to flirtatiously wink at Ye Fei.
“Miss Ye, men with good looks aren’t as skilled at serving people as we are.”
“That Number Thirty-Nine might very well be a mute—he never speaks and looks down on everyone. How could someone like that possibly serve you well?”
Seeing their ingratiating expressions, for a moment Ye Fei almost mistakenly thought she hadn’t come to a boxing arena but to some kind of pleasure house.
“Boss, are you satisfied?” Jing Chu leaned over, his face full of pride, wearing an expression that begged for praise.
Where else in the world could you find such an understanding subordinate like him, who could grasp what the boss was thinking with just a glance?
The next second, the lounge door opened, and the young man was sent running all over the place, dodging cups and ashtrays.
“Boss, I was wrong!!”
Jing Chu covered the black eye at the corner of his eye as he scurried around, waving at the people he had brought along to signal them to leave.
Seeing this, the several fighters also withdrew from the lounge.
Sitting at the doorway, utterly perplexed, Jing Chu peeked inside. Before he could even fully lean out, he was startled by a cushion thrown at the doorframe and quickly pulled back.
“You stay at the door and reflect on your actions.”
Ye Fei’s voice came from inside the room.
Jing Chu was completely baffled, finally arriving at a conclusion.
“Could it be that the boss thinks they’re ugly?”
Indeed, Number Thirty-Nine’s appearance was truly breathtaking, but he wasn’t willing!
…
Two floors underground, the fighters were divided into six-person lounges according to their numbers.
Every fighter would prepare here before stepping into the ring. Depending on the fighter’s rank, the assigned room naturally differed in quality.
Novice fighters might fight two or three matches a night, with no fixed number—as long as there were bets, they could keep going.
Of course, they had to survive to continue.
The spacious room was divided in half by a row of long lockers. One side, closer to the entrance, was crowded with people sitting around.
The other side was completely different—even the lighting barely reached that half, leaving it dim and shadowy.
Fighters would rest here before their matches. Those who won returned in glory, while most who lost were sent to the emergency room. As a result, people came and went frequently, and new faces were always appearing.
Seeing the five who had returned defeated, the men sitting together whistled mockingly.
“Back already!” one of them, of average height but heavily muscled, stepped forward. “So, who caught her eye?”
“Who would’ve thought it was just a cripple in a wheelchair! And she still had the nerve to pick and choose among us!!”
Being compared to other men was one thing.
But to actually lose out—who could stand that?
The man at the front angrily threw the towel in his hand at the locker. He was the oldest among them and had a strong physique.
Though his looks weren’t exactly refined, he was undoubtedly masculine.
Yet he had been dismissed as worthless.
“Brother Rong, what’s the story here?” someone began to jeer and ask.
All five of them went, and not a single one was chosen.
Then why bother coming to pick? Weren’t the people here usually summoned only after being selected?
“Who was it that came?”
The man behind Brother Rong answered, “It was a young lady in a wheelchair. Quite pretty, though.”
Recalling what he had just heard, Brother Rong’s anger flared even more.
“He’s just a pretty vase that’s useless, and you actually take him seriously? In what way am I not better than him? With a face like a woman’s, it’s so damn unlucky!”
Hearing his words, those gathered around him naturally knew who Brother Rong was talking about.
There had been quite a few people coming to inquire recently. That person had only taken the stage once, and although he won, in their eyes, he wasn’t all that impressive.
But he truly had a handsome face, effortlessly overshadowing everyone else here.
Recently, all sorts of wealthy patrons had come knocking, men and women alike, without any hesitation.
“He’d better not fall into my hands, or you’ll see how I deal with him!”
Hearing this, the people around him looked somewhat uneasy, forcefully signaling toward the other side with their eyes.
“What’s wrong with your eyes, shaking like that?” Brother Rong cursed.
The thin man beside him tugged at his arm. Following his gaze, Brother Rong finally noticed someone sitting by the side of the cabinet.
Long legs were placed in an extremely lazy posture. The lights on that side were off, and the light from above spilled down just beside the cabinet, separating the darkness and brightness on either side.
The man leaning against the cabinet had his eyes closed, fragmented shadows falling on his tall, straight nose bridge, flickering between light and dark.
The room suddenly fell silent. After seeing the signals from the people around him, Brother Rong stepped forward.
As the man raised his eyes, a fleeting trace of ferocity in his dark pupils made Brother Rong involuntarily take a step back.
Having spent so much time in this place, he had seen all kinds of people.
But whether it was the imposing aura of a hidden noble or the murderous intent of a ruthless desperado, none could compare to even a tenth of what emanated from the man before him.
Concealed within, though seemingly calm and indifferent, it was a blade not to be underestimated.
With just a movement, a single glance, he could make people freeze in their tracks.