As soon as Ke Mingxuan stepped out of the meeting room, his phone notification pinged.

He opened WeChat and saw a racing video sent by Li Ze, with a comment that followed: “It’s such a pity you weren’t there today.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t immediately open the video to watch.

There were many second-generation rich kids in their circle who loved street racing for thrills. He had joined a few times, but aside from a few who actually had skills, most were just showing off their wealth and cars. He found it boring and never went back.

Ruan Chengjie and Li Ze were among the few racers with real skill. Ke Mingxuan quickly filtered through the list of second-generation rich kids who had the ability to race at Wuye Mountain in his mind, but he couldn’t think of anyone who deserved to hear Li Ze say, “It’s a pity you weren’t there.”

Back in his office, he sank into the large leather boss chair, loosening his perfectly tied tie a bit. He then leisurely opened the video, but when he saw the person on screen, his eyes narrowed with a hint of amusement.

The moment the yellow Porsche shot off the track, he instinctively straightened up, eyes glued to the phone screen. As Bian Yiqiu drove the 918 through the course like lightning, he also tore through Ke Mingxuan’s deep, abyss-like, chilling gaze.

In just two minutes, it felt as though he were sitting in the passenger seat of the 918, experiencing a heart-pounding race that could rival Fast and Furious. When Boss Bian reached the finish line, expertly drifting and sliding the Porsche to a perfect stop, Ke Mingxuan realized that the rush had made his hands numb from the increase in blood flow.

The video showed a group of handsome men and beautiful women waiting at the finish line, cheering as they rushed forward, immediately swarming Boss Bian as he got out of the car. Some even boldly lunged at him, kissing him in full view of the crowd.

At this moment, the most immediate reaction from Young Master Ke was to capture this man, who dared to seek thrills with his life, drag him back, and pin him down. He wanted to strip him of his clothes and fuck him until he was crying out for his parents, too exhausted to even get out of bed, let alone race again.

At the end of the video, Ke Mingxuan saw Ruan Chengjie, who was just under two seconds slower than Bian Yiqiu, get out of the LaFerrari he took so much pride in. With a smile Ke Mingxuan had never seen before, Ruan Chengjie walked over to Bian Yiqiu.

The screen suddenly froze, and the anger that had been building in Ke Mingxuan’s chest flared up in an instant. He knew he was angry, but couldn’t immediately figure out why. Was it because Bian Yiqiu had almost lost control several times during the race? Or was it because this guy had been secretly getting so close to Ruan Chengjie behind his back? But upon thinking about it, neither of those things seemed to have anything to do with him.

Whether Bian Yiqiu was alive or dead made no difference to him, and who he chose to associate with was none of his concern.

But Ruan Chengjie’s smile and the look in his eyes made him feel inexplicably uncomfortable. That gaze was all too familiar to him—it was probably the same way he had looked at Bian Yiqiu in the past. It was the look of a predator eyeing its prey, a look from a man wanting to dominate another man.

Forty kilometers away from the He Sheng Media Building, at the Wuye Mountain racetrack, Boss Bian, surrounded by a crowd and basking in the joy of victory, had no idea what Young Master Ke was thinking. With a handsome young man in each arm, he arrogantly raised the corner of his mouth at Ruan Chengjie, who was walking toward him: “I won.”

Ruan Chengjie smiled but didn’t reply. Standing three steps away, he slightly raised his arm, and a small object, which looked like some kind of trinket, flew through the air in a graceful parabola, landing right in front of Bian Yiqiu.

He let go of one of the handsome young men and reached out to catch the object, realizing it was the key to the LaFerrari.

Ruan Chengjie said, “It’s yours.”

Bian Yiqiu was genuinely surprised this time. He had thought Ruan’s earlier “If you like it, it’s yours” was just a joke and hadn’t taken it seriously. But now, it seemed that the wealthy and powerful Mr. Ruan wasn’t one to make jokes.

“Nothing is free of charge,” Bian Yiqiu said as he tossed the key back. “This gift is too valuable. I can’t accept it.”

“The prize for the race—let’s just say I lost to you,” Ruan Chengjie said with a smile.

“It was just for fun, don’t take it seriously.” Bian Yiqiu said, pretending to pat his stomach. “I’m hungry. Is there anywhere to eat around this desolate place?”

Noticing that Bian Yiqiu had changed the topic, Ruan Chengjie didn’t push further. He casually slipped the key into his pocket, then stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Bian’s shoulder. Without hesitation, he subtly pushed the young man in Bian Yiqiu’s arms aside and led him away from the crowd. “There’s a place halfway up the mountain called ‘Han She,’ the food there is decent.”

“‘Han She’? Sounds like a farmhouse restaurant. You’re not planning to just use that to get rid of me, are you?”

“What would you like to eat, then?” Ruan Chengjie asked with a good-natured smile.

“Well, if Mr. Ruan is treating, it better be a Michelin three-star restaurant,” Bian Yiqiu teased.

“Michelin three stars? That’s easy. We have plenty of opportunities for that.”

With that, Ruan Chengjie pushed Bian Yiqiu into the passenger seat of the LaFerrari, while Zuo Cheng left the 918 and followed closely behind.

The sports car sped along, and in just a few minutes, they arrived at the entrance of “Han She.” As Bian Yiqiu got out of the car, he spotted a McLaren P1 parked nearby—the same one that had been next to the LaFerrari when he first arrived at the racetrack. He casually asked, “Whose car is this?”

Ruan Chengjie replied, “It’s Li Ze’s.”

“Li Ze’s here too? How come I didn’t see him?”

“He’s in charge of the drone footage and monitoring today. He didn’t come to the finish line with us.”

As they walked toward the weathered wooden door, which had cracks from age, Bian Yiqiu had been saying something, but when he opened his mouth, no words came out.

He really wanted to turn around and ask Mr. Ruan, “This is called ‘Han She’? Are you kidding me? Apart from the worn-out sign at the entrance with the words ‘Han She’ written in flowing calligraphy, there’s no way anything inside could live up to the name.”

The scene before him seemed to contradict everything he’d expected. A small bridge arched over a gently flowing stream, and pavilions and towers harmonized with the surroundings. The corridor twisted in countless turns, with verdant greenery everywhere, and a faint, cool fragrance lingered in the air.

Bian Yiqiu followed the faint fragrance with his gaze, looking toward the lakeside. A few plum trees, blooming fiercely, stood proudly against the wind. In the pavilion at the center of the lake, a figure appeared faintly through the soft white gauze, and the sound of a zither played like clear spring water, gently flowing and soothing to the soul. Bian Yiqiu couldn’t identify the piece, but the music made him feel as if he couldn’t even dare to speak too loudly. No matter how restless or agitated one might be, in this moment and place, everything seemed to settle into peace.

“Do you like the guzheng?” Ruan Chengjie took a few steps forward, noticed Bian Yiqiu had stopped and was staring blankly at the pavilion, and turned back to ask.

“That’s a guzheng?” Bian Yiqiu’s response completely spoiled the atmosphere.

Ruan Chengjie’s smile widened, and he couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Zuo Cheng, following behind, couldn’t bear to watch and felt his boss was embarrassing himself.

Bian Yiqiu, however, didn’t care at all. He shrugged. “I can’t appreciate the stuff you cultured people enjoy. You might as well just take me to eat some farmhouse food.”

“There’s only one place to eat within a five-mile radius,” Ruan Chengjie replied casually. “It’s just to fill your stomach; it’s all the same anywhere.”

Ruan Chengjie continued walking ahead, and Bian Yiqiu thought to himself that this Ruan was indeed much more approachable than Young Master Ke.

After winding through several turns, they finally entered an old-fashioned private room. Bian Yiqiu couldn’t help but wonder what the owner was thinking—there was no air conditioning, but in the corner, a charcoal stove burned, filling the room with warmth and a faint, lingering fragrance.

A large round rosewood table sat in the center, surrounded by intricately carved armchairs. Bian Yiqiu couldn’t help but think that sitting in one would probably be very cold

Li Ze heard the sound at the door and stood up to greet them. “Boss Bian, didn’t expect you to actually have some skill. Ruan’s racing record in our circle is unmatched, but today, you’ve broken it.”

“Then it’s over,” Boss Bian shrugged. “You should’ve told me earlier. Last time, Mr. Ruan still hasn’t settled the score with me over that piece of land. Now I’ve beaten him again. Who knows what he’s plotting for revenge.”

“Well, at least you’re somewhat self-aware.” Ruan Chengjie pulled out a chair and sat down. He poured himself a cup of top-grade tea that had already been steeped, slowly brought it to his lips, took a couple of sips, and then turned to look at Boss Bian with a meaningful glance. “But you can’t let me lose every time, can you?”

Bian Yiqiu sat down in another chair, returning a mysterious gaze. “That depends on what kind of prize Mr. Ruan will offer next time.”

Ruan Chengjie smiled, then turned to ask Li Ze if the dishes were ordered. Li Ze confirmed they were, and the group shifted to other topics of conversation.

After dinner, they headed back to the city. On the way, Bian Yiqiu received a call from Ye Zhen, asking him to come to the company. The group split at the South Yuan intersection, heading in opposite directions, blending into the busy flow of traffic.

Li Ze glanced at the fading tail of the 918 and casually remarked, “Young Master Ke’s taste has always been sharp. This Boss Bian is certainly not an ordinary person.”

The traffic in the city was heavy, and even the fastest supercars had to crawl along, like old donkeys pulling a cart, waiting behind a long line of vehicles at the red lights.

Ruan Chengjie slowly brought the car to a stop, muttering two words under his breath: “What a pity…”

Li Ze wasn’t sure if there was more to the “pity” that Ruan Chengjie was referring to, or what exactly he meant by it. Ruan Chengjie didn’t continue, and Li Ze didn’t press the matter.

Aside from the regular monthly meetings at the group, Bian Yiqiu rarely set foot in the company’s doors at other times. The senior executives knew his temperament well, and unless there was something urgent, they generally wouldn’t bother calling his phone. So, when he received a call from Ye Zhen, Bian Yiqiu had a good idea of why she was reaching out.

It was the end of the year, a time for wrapping up unfinished business, especially the debts that hadn’t been settled.

Jiu’an Group’s organizational structure was a bit different from other companies, mainly because it was a product of the underworld being washed clean. The old brothers who had fought alongside Old Master Jiu had deep ties to the company, and since he was someone who valued loyalty and relationships, things had become tangled and complicated over time.

The group had three wholly-owned subsidiaries: Hongyuan Import & Export, Ruiyi Finance, and Huayue Hotels. These three businesses were the main sources of revenue for the group and also its long-established industries. Although in recent years, Jiu’an Group had invested in several emerging projects under its name, the profits still came mainly from these three companies.

As for the Celebrity Club, that was Bian Yiqiu’s personal venture, completely unrelated to the company.

The heads of the three subsidiaries were originally Old Master Jiu’s trusted subordinates. There was no choice—thirty years ago, Hongyuan Import & Export specialized in smuggling, dealing in everything from firearms to drugs. Ruiyi Finance operated an underground bank, openly engaging in usurious lending, and was notorious for taking extreme measures when things went wrong. The only one that appeared legitimate was the Huayue International Hotel, standing tall in the city center. While it seemed like a respectable business, most of its guests were Old Master Jiu’s associates and underworld figures. Especially the “Longfeng Chengxiang” nightclub on the lower four floors of the hotel, which had a reputation that rivaled the later infamous “Tian Shang Ren Jian.”

Around the year 2000, as the government’s crackdown on organized crime intensified, many of the gang leaders who were once on par with Old Master Jiu were arrested. It was at this time that he began considering the idea of “cleaning up” his operations. However, the organization had been deeply entrenched in illegal activities for so long that it wasn’t something that could be easily done. The process had to start by targeting the most obvious areas, and so smuggling and drug trafficking became the first to be cut off. This was also when Old Qian, who had been working closely with Old Master Jiu, ended up falling out with him and going their separate ways.

Old Master Jiu’s real name was Li Jiu, and although he was called “Master Jiu”, it had nothing to do with his position in any hierarchy. Old Qian had once been his most trusted subordinate, managing the drug trafficking and smuggling operations. When the gang began attempting to clean up its image, the first step was to eliminate the most lucrative illegal businesses, such as drugs and firearms. This meant cutting off Old Qian’s and his men’s financial sources, which naturally led to resistance. The disagreement between them grew so intense that it nearly escalated to a violent confrontation.

What exactly happened, Bian Yiqiu wasn’t sure. At that time, he hadn’t yet been brought into the fold by Old Master Jiu, but he occasionally heard people mention some of the past events. In the end, Old Qian took a group of men and broke off to establish his own faction. The Jiu’an Group was then founded shortly after. As Old Master Jiu put it, the name was meant to symbolize longevity and stability.

Smuggling turned into import and export business, usury transformed into financial services, and the once-glorious “Dragon and Phoenix” nightclub was closed down after a few years. Over time, Huayue Hotel took advantage of the city’s rapid development, acquiring several prime pieces of land. After the northern outskirts were developed into a hot spring resort, Huayue swiftly invested large sums of money to build the now ultra-luxurious Yuelong Bay Hot Spring Resort Hotel. This helped Jiu’an gradually establish its corporate brand in Z City.

Of course, the path from the underworld to legitimacy is never an easy one. Even now, Bian Yiqiu still considers himself a gang boss, which is enough to show that Jiu’an had not, and could not, completely wash itself clean. Those powerful “stain-removing” laundry detergent ads on TV are all lies. Once a piece of clothing has been stained black, there’s only one way to make it white again—buy a new one. But this was something Old Master Jiu could never achieve, even up until his death.

There’s an old saying in the underworld: “Brothers are like limbs; lovers are like clothes.” Clothes can be replaced easily, but brothers who share life-and-death experiences are irreplaceable. This was especially true when Old Qian publicly left Jiu’an back then; the loyal brothers who stood firmly by his side proved it even more so.

The result of such deep loyalty was that Jiu’an appeared prosperous on the outside, but was in chaos on the inside. Not only were several company accounts in disarray, but there were also those who began to eye Jiu’an as a tempting target.

Old Master Jiu never married or had children, but somehow, he ended up with a godson—Bian Yiqiu. The older veterans, however, didn’t think much of this “wild cub” who had appeared out of nowhere. Despite his skill in fighting and his ruthless methods, they saw him as nothing more than someone who fit the phrase “simple-minded, strong-limbed.” In their eyes, it would only take a couple of hidden traps along the way to deal with him cleanly. But, to their surprise, before they even got the chance, Bian Yiqiu had already managed to land himself in prison.