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He wanted to replace every single brick in the backyard. Every. Single. One…
After returning home, Su Yundai ate dinner, studied for a while, and then went out for a walk in the neighborhood.
It was raining again. The residential area had a low housing density, and there was a park nearby. The natural environment was pleasant, and in the rain, the air felt especially refreshing, cleansing her lungs and heart.
“Dad, stop hitting me!”
Suddenly, a child’s heart-wrenching cries pierced the air. Her brows furrowed.
That family again? Beating the child?
Everyone in the neighborhood knew the gossip about them. The original wife had literally been angered to death by the husband. Now the mistress had moved in openly, the man had new children, and the first child had become increasingly unwanted.
Su Yundai stood frozen without realizing it.
“Ah! It hurts! Dad!”
The child’s voice was so miserable that Su Yundai’s heart clenched hard. She could hardly imagine how someone could be so cruel to their own child.
She instinctively stepped into the shadow of a wall corner, pulled out her phone, and started recording.
“Please! Ah! Dad! I know I was wrong!” Along with a loud crash, the child’s cries suddenly stopped.
Her heart skipped a beat; a chill ran down her spine.
“How pitiful the young master is,” said two raincoat-clad men trimming branches nearby.
“I don’t dare go in there. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from intervening—and then the beating would land on me instead.”
Su Yundai glanced at her phone to confirm the recording was still running.
Just then, one of the men took a call. Hanging up, he muttered, “My god… he was kicked three meters away, hit his head, and he’s bleeding nonstop. If the boy really dies, we’ll all bear the blame. Old Liu said we should call the police. Should we? We need an ambulance, right?”
“Do you dare? And even if we did, what would happen? The police would just ask a few questions. The kid’s mother is dead—custody still belongs to the father.”
“The poor young master really suffers…”
“The man’s inhuman. And that woman inside—she’s no saint either. She knows the boy’s pride is strong, and she does it on purpose. Not accumulating virtue for her own child, just wealth. She probably wishes the boy were gone.”
Su Yundai’s blood boiled, her arm trembling with anger. She stopped the recording.
She knew she shouldn’t interfere. This man was powerful—his background so deep that even the Wei family probably wouldn’t want to cross him.
Wei Lin had warned her before: the household at the far northeastern corner belonged to a man surnamed Liu. Famous in Beijing, notorious for his bad temper and arrogance. Once, he had beaten several rich second-generation heirs in public without giving them the slightest face. His background was too strong. If she ran into him, she should avoid him—otherwise, she’d only suffer.
According to Wei Lin, she should stay away. If he didn’t give those heirs face, what chance did she have?
But if this went on, what if the child was really beaten to death?
If that happened, she would hate herself, regret it for life.
Her fingers trembled as she gripped her umbrella tighter and walked away, her shoes clicking clearly against the wet ground.
“Who’s there?!” The two men grew tense.
The iron gate creaked open.
Su Yundai wanted to send out the recording, but her phone betrayed her—signal was terrible.
Her heart pounded wildly as she dialed 110 while walking quickly, terrified the two men would run back inside to inform the master. People’s hearts were unpredictable—who knew if their sympathy was real, or if they’d betray her for favor? She couldn’t worry about that now.
“Police,” she whispered.
She heard the men gasp behind her, followed by the heavy, wet sound of rain boots stomping in puddles. The steps—urgent, angry—sounded like a death knell drawing closer.
Her panic grew; her heart thudded like a war drum.
“This is Villa 39, Jiuzhou Community. A child is being violently abused. He was kicked three meters away, bleeding heavily. I’m a neighbor. Please come quickly, and call 120. The child’s mother is dead. Please protect him, and contact her family for custody rights immediately!”
She ran as she spoke, then hung up.
Clank—
The iron gate’s wheels screeched, startling her into stillness.
The rain suddenly grew heavier, pounding the umbrella like a drum, deafening in her ears.
Her breath caught.
“A kid slipped and fell—what do we need the police for?” A mocking male voice came from behind her.
Her back turned cold.
So they really went to report her…
From the wall ahead, several black-clad men leapt down, blocking her path like a human barricade.
She scanned around. Few cameras—this was a blind spot.
She turned and faced Mr. Liu.
He was in his thirties, tall, holding a dark blue umbrella that glowed ghostly under the streetlight, like blue fire. Several bodyguards loomed behind him.
His lips curled in contempt as he closed in. “Which brat came out here sticking her nose into other people’s business? Hurry up and tell the police it was a misunderstanding. Why waste their time?”
He waved a hand. At his signal, the men advanced, splashing through puddles toward her.
The slanted rain between umbrellas glinted like blades.
Surrounded—no escape.
If she couldn’t run, she would stand her ground.
Her eyes were cold, her voice soft but firm, echoing through the rain: “Tell me, with such noise just now—how many neighbors are watching? How many are recording this very moment?”
Mr. Liu squinted at her.
She was tiny, not even 1.6 meters, with a delicate frame. But her eyes told him clearly—she wouldn’t back down.
His sneer deepened. “Hand over the phone and get lost. Then this won’t concern you.”
“I won’t.”
He stepped forward. “You really want to go against me?”
Before she could answer, he barked: “Grab her phone. Check if she sent anything out.”
Su Yundai sneered, raised her slender arm, and flung the phone.
It arced over the gate and crashed into the neighboring yard.
His pupils contracted.
She smiled.
One: buy time.
Two: drag another powerful household into this.
His frown darkened like a blade cutting through night.
She dropped her umbrella and dashed for the gate.
A hand lunged for her shoulder like a ghost.
Rain lashed her, clothes clinging coldly to her skin.
She leapt, gripped the iron bars, and hauled herself over.
Landing on the slippery ground, her foot twisted painfully.
Limping, she rushed to grab the phone.
The men hesitated—trespassing into another villa was no small matter. They looked to Liu for orders.
He hesitated, too. She realized the neighbor must be someone even he feared.
“Bring her out,” he ordered. “So small, yet climbing like a monkey.”
Her ankle throbbed as she clutched the phone. The men climbed over after her.
Facing them, she tossed the phone again—onto the rooftop.
Thud.
“The surveillance here will show everything. If the police ask for it, will your neighbor dare refuse? If he does, he’ll be charged with obstruction. Is it worth it?”
Liu’s jaw tightened. Then he smiled wickedly, dialing a number. “Let me show you the difference between people.”
Her body went cold. Did he really know the neighbor well enough to erase the footage?
Suddenly, a phone rang in the yard.
Footsteps followed.
A group of people emerged from the shadows, led by a man with a black umbrella. The umbrella’s metal handle gleamed silver in the dark, steady against the wind.
Her rain-blurred eyes couldn’t make out his face. She grew nervous.
Would he blame her for dragging him into this?
Liu greeted him with forced cheer: “President Qi, there’s a phone on your roof. My men need to fetch it. Sorry for disturbing you—let me buy you a drink another day.”
The man said coldly, “Shang.”
“What?” Liu’s face darkened.
“I just changed to my mother’s surname. Shang.”
Su Yundai froze. Changed surname? For a wealthy family, that meant bloody upheaval.
Liu was just as shocked. “On your own?”
“Of course.”
Liu’s expression said: what a ruthless man.
“Don’t call me wrong again,” Shang added, warningly.
Su Yundai, still shivering, felt his disdain for Liu.
Good—if she waited here for the police, the evidence would be safe.
But her phone might not survive the rain on the roof.
Liu forced a sycophantic smile. “Congratulations. But… could you do me a small favor?”
A ladder was already being set up.
“No!” Su Yundai blurted. “The phone’s mine—you can’t give it to him!”
The rain poured harder, soaking her white shirt. She shivered violently, cramps gnawing at her belly.
Suddenly, a black umbrella pressed over her head.
The man placed the handle into her trembling hand. “Hold it.”
His palm brushed her skin—burning hot against her icy hand.
She stumbled, her twisted ankle giving way, but he caught her by the waist, steadying her.
Up close, she saw his face clearly—sharp, heroic features softened by thick lashes and fair skin. He was imposing like an imperial palace, yet exquisite in detail.
Shang Beize frowned. “Ankle sprained?”
He would replace every brick in his yard. Replace them all. And break the legs of those who chased her.
He stripped off his suit jacket, draped it over her shoulders, and pulled it tight around her chest—without touching her, yet somehow invading her space.
Her heart raced wildly.
She whispered, trembling, “Can you help get the phone down? The rain might ruin the evidence.”
“Okay.”
He ordered his men.
Liu’s eyes bored into her with venom, but he didn’t dare lash out.
Shang Beize’s eyes flashed coldly. “You have three seconds to leave my property.”
“Three.”
The hostility was blatant.
Liu’s face twisted, but he swallowed his anger. “We’re all friends—can’t you do me a favor?”
“Who’s your friend? Two.”
Grinding his teeth, Liu finally withdrew with his men.
Soon, Shang’s men retrieved the phone.
He handed it to Su Yundai and lowered his voice. “The police will take a while. I’ll drive you home. Take a hot shower—don’t catch a cold.”