Chapter 1: Inspecting the Goods

A splitting pain tore through Xia Zhuozhuo’s head, and in that haze she suddenly felt something prying between her legs.

Her eyes, cold as ice, snapped open. Two middle-aged women were crouched over her—one tugging at her trousers, the other forcing her legs apart, trying to shove a hand beneath her.

“Courting death!”

Xia Zhuozhuo kicked out at the fat woman reaching toward her lower body. Caught off guard, the woman toppled backward with a heavy thud.

“Ow—damn it, that hurts!”

The other woman immediately let go of Xia Zhuozhuo’s trousers, rushing instead to help the fat one up.

Xia Zhuozhuo tried to seize the chance to grab them both, only to realize her own hands were bound tightly with hemp rope.

Damn it! Where was this place? Shouldn’t she be asleep in her foster Mother’s home?

She scanned her surroundings quickly. The place was a dilapidated woodshed, the door shut tight, with only a faint shaft of light filtering in through a tiny window above.

The fat woman, now steadied, spat at her with venom.

“Bah! You dare shove me? Do you want to die?”

She raised her hand, aiming to slap Xia Zhuozhuo across the face, but the other woman caught her wrist.

“Careful! She’s worth thirty thousand yuan. Don’t damage her—we need that pretty face if we want to double our profit!”

Only then did the fat woman hold back, suppressing her fury. “That dose—enough to drop an ox—should’ve kept her out cold. Who would’ve thought she’d wake up so fast? No matter, now that she’s awake, she’d better cooperate while we inspect the goods.”

Xia Zhuozhuo narrowed her eyes. “What inspection?”

“For thirty thousand, of course we have to check if you’re still a virgin.”

So that was what they meant by “inspection”?

What a joke.

Did these women even know who she was?

She was the head of Kyoto’s black market. The entire underground world of Kyoto was her domain.

Xia Zhuozhuo let out a chilling laugh, sharp light flashing from her gaze. Even as she searched for a way to break free of the ropes, she deliberately dragged out the conversation.

“Thirty thousand yuan? Who exactly are you people?”

She had only returned from Kyoto to Jinxiang after hearing her foster Mother was gravely ill, supposedly near death.

But when she arrived, she discovered the illness was nothing more than a common cold.

She had planned to fly back to Kyoto the very next day. Yet when she woke up, she found herself bound and locked in this place.

The fat woman grabbed hold of her leg, sneering. “Liu Yueru sold you to us. Behave yourself, and we might marry you off to someone decent. Otherwise, you’ll end up with some fifty- or sixty-year-old bachelor.”

“What did you just say? Liu Yueru… sold me to you?”

To Xia Zhuozhuo, it was the most absurd joke she had ever heard.

When she was three years old, Liu Yueru picked her up off the roadside. She claimed it was to raise her as a foster daughter, but in truth, she was raising her as a child bride.

From the moment Xia Zhuozhuo could walk and talk, all the dirty and exhausting chores in the house were dumped on her shoulders.

That was why she pushed herself to learn every skill she could. By the age of twelve, she finally had the means to leave—and she never once came back.

Still, she had not forgotten the debt of being raised.

On the first day of every month, she sent money back.

The money she had wired over the years was enough for the family to buy three or four apartments in the heart of any first-tier city.

This time, too, she had only returned after hearing that Liu Yueru was gravely ill, wanting to see her one last time.

But she had never imagined Liu Yueru would go further than before—selling her off for thirty thousand yuan.

No wonder, when she came back, Liu Yueru had treated her with such unusual care.

She had thought Liu Yueru had changed, had softened. But in reality, she had simply been waiting to trap her here.

She should have listened to her subordinates—no one in the Jiang family was any good. She never should have returned.

Her mind raced even as her bound hands continued to work behind her back.

Just a little more, and she would slip free of the rope.

Xia Zhuozhuo drew in a steady breath, feigning disbelief. “Nonsense! I am their child bride, destined to marry Jiang Ze in the future!”

“Marry Jiang Ze?” The woman gave a mocking laugh. “You’ve been gone so many years, no wonder you don’t know. Jiang Ze is about to marry the daughter of a wealthy corporation. Their family’s already driving luxury cars—why would they ever need to marry you?”

The other woman gripped her ankle more forcefully.

“Spread your legs! We need to check whether you’re still a virgin. If not, we’ll have to demand half the money back.”

“Don’t even think of struggling. If you’re torn in the process, the one who suffers will be you.”

Suddenly, Xia Zhuozhuo curved her lips into a smile.

“Then let’s see who truly suffers!”

In the next instant, the rope finally gave way. She shot her hand forward, clamping down on the fat woman’s throat, and lifted her bodily into the air.

“Mmmf—” The woman thrashed wildly, but could not break free from Xia Zhuozhuo’s iron grip.

Her face quickly flushed crimson from lack of oxygen, lips turning a deep, sickly purple.

The other woman panicked and rushed forward to help, but Xia Zhuozhuo lashed out with a kick, slamming her back hard against the wall.

As she slid to the floor, a mouthful of blood sprayed from her lips with a sharp puh.

Yet ignoring the pain, she immediately screamed toward the outside. “Help! Someone come—!”

Within moments, two burly men charged inside.

Each one carried a thick wooden club, swinging down at Xia Zhuozhuo with all their strength.

Xia Zhuozhuo flung the choking woman aside, both hands snapping up to seize the falling clubs in midair.

The two men froze in disbelief.

Such speed!

By the time the two men realized what had happened, Xia Zhuozhuo had already kicked them flying, leaving them sprawled unconscious on the ground.

At that very moment, the fat woman—whom Xia Zhuozhuo had hurled aside earlier—lunged at her again in silence.

But Xia Zhuozhuo had long since anticipated it. Just as the woman drew near, she spun sharply, wielded the club in her hand, and struck her down in a single blow.

Ten minutes later, Xia Zhuozhuo stepped out from the woodshed, flames roaring behind her. The blinding sunlight stung her eyes faintly, and she raised a hand to shield them. From within, cries for help echoed.

She did not so much as glance back. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, she strode forward expressionlessly—straight toward the Jiang family’s house.

Human traffickers deserved nothing less than death.

And next to die… would be the Jiang family.

As she advanced, shouts rose from the distance.

“Fire! The place is on fire!”

“Fetch water! Hurry!”

The blaze had already drawn villagers rushing over with buckets in hand.

Draped in one of the middle-aged women’s coats and walking with her head lowered, Xia Zhuozhuo blended in unnoticed, passing directly by the villagers as they ran toward the fire while she went the opposite way.

Before long, she finally arrived at the Jiang residence.

Lifting her foot, she kicked the wooden door open.

With a loud crash, it collapsed inward, sending dust flying.

Yet when she stepped inside, she found the place already deserted—not a single soul remained.

“So, they ran quickly enough.”

Even if they fled to the ends of the earth, she would find them.

The debt of being raised had long since been repaid. Now, it was time for revenge.

Liu Yueru, Jiang Ze—she would spare neither of them.

Xia Zhuozhuo’s face darkened as she entered her own room.

—Her so-called room was nothing more than a converted woodshed, narrow and suffocating, the air heavy with damp mildew.

As expected, the small bag she had brought back and the phone she had hidden beneath her pillow were both gone.

The bag had little of value inside, only a single identification document.

Still, without her phone, returning would be troublesome.

No matter—once she reached the town, she could borrow a phone to call her subordinates to pick her up.

Just as she was about to leave, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside.

Xia Zhuozhuo’s brows knit together, but the corner of her lips curved in a subtle, cold smile.

So, the ones courting death had returned.

She glanced around, picked up the sickle leaning behind the door, and strode out like a god of slaughter.

Yet as she stepped through the doorway, the person peering in was not from the Jiang family at all, but a young man in his twenties she had never seen before.

His face was smeared with dried mud, his hair a filthy mess, yet he wore a suit.

That suit, however, was tattered and ruined, and behind him sat a rust-eaten tricycle.

Xia Zhuozhuo shifted the sickle to hide it behind her.

“Who are you looking for?”

Perhaps her footsteps had been too light, for only then did the young man notice her. His gaze lifted toward her.

The next instant, when he saw her face—so strikingly similar to Mother Xia’s, seven parts alike at least—his eyes flew wide. Two streams of tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Xiao Qi! It’s really you! Xiao Qi!”

Like a madman, he rushed straight toward Xia Zhuozhuo.

Yet when he was still half a meter away, his steps halted abruptly.

—Because Xia Zhuozhuo had the sickle leveled at him.

One step closer, and the blade would slice across his throat.