Ke Mingxuan was driving aimlessly through the streets, with no destination in mind, unsure of where to go or what he should be doing, or even what he could do. His mind was blank, and over and over again, he kept hearing Commander Ke’s words.

“Only if you agree, Bian Yiqiu can live.”

It felt as if every path had been blocked. He had no choice but to walk down this one. If he agreed, Bian Yiqiu would live; if he didn’t, Bian Yiqiu would die.

Commander Ke had said that to get him back on the right path, he would go to any lengths and use any means necessary. Ke Mingxuan had no doubt about the truth of his words, nor about his father’s ability to carry out his orders as a military district commander. What troubled him more were the case files, the criminal records. These weren’t fabricated by Commander Ke out of thin air—every single one was backed by solid evidence proving that Bian Yiqiu had been directly involved.

Aside from his limited involvement in the drug trade due to Bian Ying’s influence, there were several lives that Bian Yiqiu had personally ended. Though those he had killed were all ruthless, unforgiving criminals, the law didn’t care whether the person deserved to die—it only cared about the objective fact that a murder had been committed. What’s worse, with Commander Ke’s approval, these cases would definitely lead to heavy sentencing. If Ke Mingxuan didn’t step back, Bian Yiqiu would undoubtedly be sentenced to death.

Ke Mingxuan had never felt so regretful. From the very beginning, he shouldn’t have gotten involved with Bian Yiqiu. He knew exactly who he was, what his background was, and the kind of responsibilities he carried. He understood that no matter how wild he played on the outside, he would always have to return to the family and follow the path set for him. That was why he never invested his emotions in anyone, nor did he ever give his heart to anyone. He was always generous with his lovers because money was the only thing he could give, and it was also the least likely to be misunderstood.

At first, he had only seen Bian Yiqiu as someone to have fun with. Fighting, casual sex—he simply wanted to conquer a man who was on equal footing with him, thinking that this kind of interaction was more interesting than being with anyone else. He didn’t realize that this “fun” was actually a signal that their relationship was beginning to change. Perhaps he knew it was dangerous, but he chose to ignore it, letting it develop and grow, eventually becoming uncontrollable and completely slipping out of his grasp. When he finally snapped back to reality and tried to pull away, he found that he could no longer let go.

He had promised to walk the road ahead with him, promised to take care of his future, yet now he had put him in a predicament where they couldn’t even meet.

Ke Mingxuan, frustrated, slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp sound of the horn startling him. He turned to glance at the busy street outside, completely unaware of where he had driven.

In such a dazed state, it was a surprise that he hadn’t caused an accident—maybe it was luck, or perhaps heaven felt he had suffered enough and didn’t want to add more misery.

Ke Mingxuan gave a self-deprecating smile, then shifted his gaze back to the left front. Across the street, the imposing gate of a building stood, clearly marked with the words “Second Detention Center.”

This wasn’t Bian Yiqiu’s first time in a detention center. Before he was sent to Tongshan Prison, he had spent about three or four months in the Second Detention Center, so he was familiar with the place and didn’t need much explanation from the guards about the rules.

After changing into his prison uniform, since it was just around dinner time, he was led to the cafeteria by the guards.

The cafeteria at the Second Detention Center was quite large, with hundreds of inmates sitting around several long rectangular tables, eating their meals quietly. Guards with handguns and electric batons patrolled the area, keeping a watchful eye on everything.

As Bian Yiqiu stepped into the cafeteria, hundreds of eyes immediately turned to look at him. He kept his head straight, following the guard until he reached his designated spot. Suddenly, a voice from the crowd muttered a surprised “What the hell?” followed by a more shocked, “How did he end up here?”

It seemed someone asked who he was, and the reply came, “The infamous Boss Bian.” The person lowered their voice and added, “He’s the sworn enemy of the Qian family.”

Some people were shocked, others sighed, a few looked excited, waiting for the drama to unfold, while there were also some who looked completely confused, not knowing who Boss Bian was. After all, Bian Yiqiu had cleaned up his act for many years. As the president of Jiu’an Group, he hadn’t yet gained enough fame for people to recognize him everywhere. Those who recognized him were probably from the underworld, and they’d likely been around long enough to know who he was.

Bian Yiqiu didn’t pay any attention to the people around him. He took his meal tray, got his food at the serving window, and found an empty spot at a table on the edge. He had no intention of making friends with anyone just yet.

The detention center was different from a prison. While it housed all kinds of criminals, most of them didn’t stay for long. Those with sentences longer than two years were usually transferred to various prisons to serve their time. The rest were either awaiting imminent execution or had short sentences and would be out soon. Because most people didn’t stay long, the atmosphere wasn’t as tense, and the hierarchy among inmates wasn’t as strictly defined as in prisons. It was, relatively speaking, a more harmonious environment.

Bian Yiqiu was thinking that, given Commander Ke’s eagerness to see him gone, whether it was a death sentence or a life sentence, he wouldn’t be staying here for long. Once the review and sentencing process was over, even if they didn’t hand down a death sentence with immediate execution, he’d be transferred to another prison. In any case, it seemed that any chance of getting out anytime soon was a distant dream.

He picked up a steamed bun, tore off a piece with his hands, and slowly chewed it.

The food at the here wasn’t bad. The buns were steamed soft and easy to swallow, but he still chewed slowly, taking over ten bites before swallowing the first mouthful.

He knew once he was in, there was no way out, so he had made sure to arrange everything before coming in. With Ye Zhen and Old Meng around, the company wouldn’t face any problems. Zuo Cheng would take care of Uncle Shi, and He Xu would find Zhou Ming for him. As for the pain cause by steel bar piercing through Ke Mingxuan’s shoulder blade, someone would eventually pay for that. Zhou Ming must have someone backing him, or else he wouldn’t have appeared at Wuye Mountain at just the right time and place… Was it Qian Ying or Ruan Chengjie?

It probably wasn’t Qian Ying. If it had been, he wouldn’t have gone to such trouble to kill him. Besides, he never would have predicted that Ke Mingxuan would bring the police to find his arms depot. Otherwise, would he have stayed there, just waiting for the cops to expose his operation? He wasn’t that stupid.

So it must have been Ruan Chengjie. Qian Ying didn’t trust Ruan Chengjie, and Ruan Chengjie probably didn’t trust him much either—there was no credibility in their partnership. Qian Ying didn’t really want to kill him, so he tried to persuade him to smuggle arms together, while Ruan Chengjie was determined to see him dead. To ensure things went smoothly in such an unstable alliance, he had a double insurance policy: Zhou Ming.

Bian Yiqiu didn’t know how Ruan Chengjie had contacted Zhou Ming, but he must have told him that if Qian Ying’s side failed, Zhou Ming should find a way to take action. So, Zhou Ming was likely already lurking around Wuye Mountain. When he saw the police surrounding the arms depot and saw Ke Mingxuan getting out of his car, he must have realized that Ke Mingxuan had come to rescue him. Taking advantage of everyone’s focus on the Qian family’s arms warehouse, Zhou Ming made his move on Ke Mingxuan’s car.

Zhou Ming hated him, and he also hated Ke Mingxuan, which was easy to understand, especially considering it was Ke Mingxuan who had found him hiding in some corner, and handed him over to Bian Yiqiu.

Indeed, showing mercy to your enemies only brings cruelty to yourself. Back then, Zhou Ming had embezzled billions from Hongyuan, hiding drugs on a cargo ship and framing Bian Yiqiu, almost dragging the entire Jiu’an Group down with him. Yet, Bian Yiqiu had only crippled his hands. He thought that even if Zhou Ming didn’t owe him any gratitude, he’d at least keep his head down and stay out of trouble. But instead, Zhou Ming had left him with such a huge threat.

As for Ruan Chengjie, Bian Yiqiu could only think of one thing—if time could be turned back to that day at the winery, he would have hesitated not at all to use the broken glass in his hand to slit Ruan Chengjie’s carotid artery, ending his life and ensuring his early release from this torment.

If time could be turned back…

Bian Yiqiu paused in his motion of tearing the steamed bun. If time could be turned back, would he still choose to have any involvement with Ke Mingxuan? If he had never met Ke Mingxuan, he wouldn’t have met Ruan Chengjie, wouldn’t have made an enemy of him, and all of this wouldn’t have happened. But without all of this, he also wouldn’t have realized that he could love someone so deeply, nor would he have known that there was someone who would love him so desperately.

Ke Mingxuan.

Ke Mingxuan.

Ke Mingxuan.

Bian Yiqiu called the name over and over in his mind, and with each repetition, his heart softened just a little more. If time could be turned back, when they first officially met, he would have looked at that man at the Celebrity Club and said, “Mr. Ke, let’s have a fight. Whoever wins, gets to be on top.”

—What he regretted most now was that their time together had been too short, far too short. If he could go back to that moment, he wouldn’t have wasted even a minute.

“Bian Yiqiu, will you blame me?”

Suddenly, a voice rang out beside his ear. The deep, pleasant tone was one he had long been familiar with, a voice he knew well.

He didn’t raise his head or look around nervously, because he knew that the voice was coming from deep inside his heart. Ke Mingxuan knew his current situation—he would go crazy, he would blame himself—and so, in his subconscious, he would hear this voice.

Bian Yiqiu gently curved the corner of his lips, then tore another piece of the steamed bun, slowly chewing it.

How could I blame you?

What he didn’t know was that outside the high walls of the second detention center, on the sparsely trafficked street, Liang Ziyue’s car had been parked there for a very long time.

Meal times for the inmates were strictly regulated, and it just so happened to be one of the two days a week when they served meat. Everyone ate like animals, devouring their food hungrily. Bian Yiqiu had little appetite, and given that the food in the detention center wasn’t exactly delicious, he ate relatively gracefully in comparison.

After finishing the steamed bun in his hand, he picked up the bowl to drink some soup, when suddenly, someone sat down across from him.

The entire cafeteria fell silent in an instant. Bian Yiqiu didn’t need to look; he could feel the weight of all the eyes from every direction focused on him, even the patrolling guards became tense.

“C17039, what are you doing! Get back to your seat!”

“Just catching up with an old friend,” the inmate with the ID number C17039 said.

Bian Yiqiu gave him a glance but didn’t answer. Slowly, he drank the soup in his bowl, finishing it bit by bit before putting the bowl down and wiping his mouth.

The more experienced prison guard led the young guard who spoke to one side and didn’t stop C17039 from “chatting” with Bian Yiqiu. The other guard, who had just brought Bian Yiqiu in, probably received instructions from Gu Ling and glanced at Bian Yiqiu to see if he needed to have C17039 leave.

Bian Yiqiu returned the look with a subtle “no need.” He finally understood why, when he had just arrived, someone had recognized him and added, “He’s the sworn enemy of the Qian family.” Sitting across from him, wearing the same prison uniform and acting arrogantly, was none other than his sworn enemy, Young Master Qian, Qian Ying.

He didn’t know whether to say they had a deep connection or just bad luck. He knew that during the last police crackdown, Young Master Qian couldn’t escape, but he didn’t expect him to end up in the detention center. Judging by the guards’ attitude toward him, it seemed like he’d been doing well in here for over a month and was already starting to act like the boss.

Qian Ying was the first to speak. “So, how did you end up here?”

Bian Yiqiu casually replied, “I was worried you’d get too bored on your own, so I came in to keep you company.”

Qian Ying said, “I didn’t know you liked me this much. I’m kinda touched.”

“Pledge yourself to me,” Bian Yiqiu said with a grin.

“Can consider it, since it looks like neither of us is getting out anytime soon.”

Bian Yiqiu glanced amusingly at the inmates who were looking over at them. “Everyone’s probably waiting for us to clash, expecting some intense prison drama, but seeing us get along like this is such a disappointment.”

Qian Ying casually looked back. “Well, how about we put on a show and fight?”

“No fighting, I’m not done eating,” Bian Yiqiu said, picking up a second steamed bun and taking a bite.

The inmates: “…”

Qian Ying couldn’t help but laugh. “Boss Bian, you really are…”

Bian Yiqiu casually stuffed some pickled vegetables into his bun while looking at him, signaling for him to continue.

Qian Ying wiped the smile off his face and looked at him seriously, finishing his thought.

“I really admire you,” he said. “That kind of fearless and calm attitude, no matter the time or place, isn’t something just anyone can pull off.”

Bian Yiqiu looked at him seriously. “Don’t fall for me. I already have a lover.”

He said it in all earnestness.

Qian Ying suddenly felt like he was being tortured like a dog, and it made his stomach churn.

Just as he was about to say something else, someone suddenly shouted from the canteen door, “C17039, come out!”

Qian Ying looked at Bian Yiqiu seriously. “I really hate being called by my number.”

Bian Yiqiu took a bite of his bun and casually replied, “Do you think they should call you ‘Young Master Qian’ instead?”