Shanghai — Grand Imperial Club, 42nd Floor.
The private lounge was dim, with jazz playing low in the background. Expensive liquor. Thick carpets. Men in suits who spoke with their eyes more than their mouths.
Feng Yun leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of Louis XIII.
His hair was white-blond, his Mandarin accentless, his smile charming—but empty.
Across from him, a middle-aged executive trembled as he passed over a USB drive.
"This is everything I could find on Li Zhenyu's real holdings," the man whispered. "But if he finds out I leaked this—"
Feng Yun raised a hand. "Relax. I protect my investments."
He took the drive, placed it into his pocket without even looking at it.
"Your daughter plays piano, yes? Grade 7 at the conservatory?"
The man blinked, confused. "Yes…"
"Then I'll expect her performance at my home next weekend. Consider it… tribute."
Meanwhile — Zhenyu's Private Study, Midnight
The lighting was low. Classical music played softly in the background—an old recording of Debussy.
Zhenyu stared at the same name again:
Feng Yun.CEO of Yunshi Group.Former intelligence officer.Expelled. Unconfirmed involvement in five assassinations abroad.
"What do you want from me?" Zhenyu whispered.
His mind raced. Feng Yun didn't move for sport. If he had stepped into this, it meant someone invited him in.
And that meant there was a leak.
"Mother? No.""Ruolan? …Maybe.""Yinyin… impossible."
He closed his eyes and ran simulations in his mind—like he always did.
One outcome: war.
1 AM — Li Ruolan's Bedroom
She was asleep—barely.
When she heard the door unlock and open, she didn't move.
Zhenyu entered silently.
He walked to the edge of her bed, leaned down, and whispered:
"You've been texting Feng Yun."
Her eyes opened, pupils dilating. "You're being paranoid."
Zhenyu smiled coldly. "I hope so."
He leaned closer, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Because if you're not—if even one drop of your blood betrays me…"
His breath brushed her neck.
"…I'll drain the rest myself."
She didn't move. Her voice was quiet, but tight.
"You think you scare me? Zhenyu… you made me."
He left the room without a word.
But her fingers, curled beneath the sheets, were shaking.
Later — Rooftop
Zhenyu lit a cigarette. He didn't smoke often.
Below him, the sleeping city twinkled with ambition and decay.
Shen Yinyin joined him, barefoot in her nightdress, hair messy, eyes soft.
"You're stressed."
"I'm busy," he replied.
She slipped beside him and rested her head on his shoulder.
"Do you love me, Zhenyu?"
He didn't respond immediately.
Then: "You're the only one I allow to see me like this. Isn't that enough?"
She smiled, kissed his jaw. "It's more than enough."
They didn't speak again. The night wrapped around them like velvet.
But far across the city, a light blinked green inside a hidden server room.
Feng Yun had just accessed the Li Family financial web.
Round one had begun.And the pieces were falling… fast.