Half an hour after the raid and arson at the Su family's waste yard, the place was swarming with people.
Spectators ringed the gate; Su's employees were scattered about, and more than twenty officers from the Zhannan District Police Division, along with several dozen firefighters, were moving briskly through the scene.
At the entrance, Kong Zhenghui's car rolled to a stop. He scanned the chaotic courtyard, then tipped his chin toward a private media van following close behind.
Five people spilled out—two cameramen, two assistants, and a male anchor. They worked quickly, setting up tripods, angling their lenses, recording both the fire-blackened yard and the nervous crowd outside.
"At approximately eight forty this evening,"
The anchor said fluently into the camera,
"An armed assault and arson took place inside a waste recycling plant in Zhannan District, Longcheng…"
Inside the yard
Su Tianbei was in the middle of questioning by police.
Before this, Su Tianyu had already coached him word for word on what to say.
"How many of them were there?" asked the officer in charge—Er Mao, the same man who'd been drinking with Lu Feng a few nights before.
"About twenty or thirty," Tianbei said, frowning. "All armed. They rushed in smashing everything, then set fire to our warehouse. Five of my workers were injured—we've already sent them to the hospital."
"You're certain it was them who started the fire?" Er Mao asked, skeptical.
"Officer, this is my company. If it wasn't them, would I set fire to my own place?" Tianbei shot back.
"During the fight, did they say anything? After it ended, which way did they run?"
"They said if Su's company keeps reporting their monopoly to the Environmental Management Council, they'll kill us. After the fight, they jumped the wall. My night guard saw cars waiting outside to pick them up."
"You had this many people, and didn't catch a single one?" Er Mao pressed.
"Everyone was terrified! Who dared fight back?" Tianbei's voice was steady, practiced. "Most of our people got there later."
"You have surveillance here?"
"We do, but the system's being replaced. Only the main gate and a few loading areas are still recording."
While Tianbei was giving his statement, Tianyu stepped out of the yard and found his eldest brother, Su Tiannan, who was talking to Kong Zhenghui near the gate.
"Brother!"
Tiannan turned. "You're not giving your statement?"
"No, Second Brother's handling it." Tianyu adjusted his glasses, looking calm as ever. Then he nodded toward Kong. "I need a quick word with Brother Kong."
Kong Zhenghui already knew the younger Su wasn't some bookish pushover. After the knife incident with Lu Feng, he'd pegged him as sharp and dangerous. He gave a curious half-smile.
"What's up, kid?"
"I don't think we should involve the media just yet," Tianyu said directly.
"Why not?" Kong frowned.
"The timing isn't right. We need to let Changqing Company hang itself first."
Tianyu never wasted a syllable when talking about business.
Kong's brow creased. "Changqing's already neck-deep in shit. What's there to wait for?"
"My brother's still in talks with our contacts at the Police Bureau," Tianyu said quietly. "Better to hold for now."
Kong thought a moment, then nodded. "All right. When it's time to flip the table, you call me."
"Deal." Tianyu nodded.
Kong gave a crooked grin and glanced at the scorched yard.
"Lu Feng's a goddamn idiot. You want to make an example, fine—beat a few guys, break some bones—but who the hell sets fires? Even if we don't leak this ourselves, by tomorrow everyone in Zhannan will know—Changqing's willing to burn people alive for a space grab. You can't bury that."
"You're right," Tianyu said mildly. Then, "Brother Kong, hang around a bit. I need a quick word with my brother."
"Sure thing." Kong folded his arms.
The two brothers stepped away into the shadow by the wall. Tiannan lowered his voice. "What's going on?"
"Brother, call Wang Daolin—right now."
"It's past ten. What for?"
"Just do it," Tianyu whispered, sharp and sure. "Tell him Lu Feng came for our lives tonight—you're scared—and you're ready to make a deal…"
Zhannan District, later that night
At the end of Fulin Street, a cramped gambling den hummed through the stink of sweat and urine.
It catered to the broke—the sort who'd rather sleep in a corner watching cards than go home hungry.
On the second floor, in a dingy guard's booth turned backroom, Lu Feng sat on a torn sofa, eyes flashing as he barked:
"You call yourselves street men? Ten of you go together, and you can't even tell if your own guys made it out alive?"
"Brother Feng, it was chaos," whimpered a thug pressing a blood-soaked napkin to his side. "They outnumbered us—we panicked—everyone scattered through the windows and hall. We didn't see where Brother Ming went."
"Useless!" Lu Feng snarled, then snatched his phone and called Er Mao at the Police Division.
"Yo, you free to talk?"
A pause. Then Er Mao's low reply: "Yeah. I'm still on the scene."
"Damn it, a few of my men haven't come back! I've been calling—no one's answering. Did the Su family grab them?"
"I asked," Er Mao said quietly. "They claim your guys smashed things, lit the fire, and ran. Nobody got caught."
"Bullshit! My guys were the ones getting beat down! They were trapped in the main hall—someone must've leaked it to the Su family."
Lu Feng's voice was shaking now.
"Lean on them for me. Tell them if they're hiding anyone, they better talk."
"And how exactly am I supposed to ask that?" Er Mao snapped softly. I'm a police officer, not your messenger boy.
Anyway, I already warned them—if they're holding people, that's illegal detention. They won't be that stupid.
Lu Feng fell silent, frowning. "Then where the hell did my men go? They wouldn't just vanish."
"Keep looking," Er Mao said. Then, after a glance around the smoky yard, they added, But listen—this thing's serious, Feng.
You didn't just brawl, you torched the place. That's a waste-storage site. If the fire spreads, it's a disaster. Your boys were way too reckless.
Lu Feng slammed a palm on the table. "You think I'm running a crematorium? You think I lit it myself? Somebody's setting me up!"
Er Mao stayed quiet a moment, then spoke flatly:
Four companies have already halted work to protest Changqing's monopoly. Workers are getting stabbed. Now Su's plant gets hit—and burned.
You might be innocent, but who's going to believe that?
The Bureau wants no part of this mess.
Lu Feng had no answer.
"I'll finish the scene report. We'll talk later," Er Mao said, and hung up.
Lu Feng stood there, jaw tight, hands on his hips, seething.
The room stilled when Li Hongze came up the stairs with two aides, face thunder-dark.
"Brother!" Lu Feng greeted him quickly.
"How the hell did you screw this up?" Li Hongze roared. "You had the numbers—yet you got turned over? And who told you to start a fire? You run a damn chemistry lab?"
"It wasn't me!" Lu Feng's voice cracked, almost pleading. "I didn't light anything!"
Around 11 p.m.
Su Tiannan's car stopped outside a bright Cantonese restaurant on Guangming Road.
He straightened his jacket before getting out.
"You wait in the car," he told his younger cousin.
"Got it." The driver nodded.
Tiannan strode inside, climbed to the third floor, and entered a private room.
Across the street, in the shadowed mouth of an alley, a man in a baseball cap watched the car through narrowed eyes.
Inside the private dining room sat a man in his fifties—Wang Daolin, a division chief in the Longcheng Police Bureau, with real pull.
He and the Su family patriarch had once been comrades-in-arms. Months earlier, before Tianyu's return, the Su family had discreetly handed him fifty thousand yuan, asking him to mediate the sanitation turf dispute.
"Xiao Nan," Wang said, hands in pockets, "I heard about your factory. Everyone safe?"
Tiannan's face was grim. "Uncle Wang, if you don't help me this time, I might not live to see morning."
Wang said nothing.
I only went to the Council to report the monopoly because of my father—it was desperation.
But before any result came, two of my managers got hacked up. The rest are too scared to join the protest.
And now tonight our plant was smashed and burned—five more injured. Uncle Wang, for my father's sake, please help us again.
Wang sighed. I told you before—I can't interfere.
And it's not easy to catch Changqing on anything solid. I warned you to settle it with money, but you wouldn't listen.
"I have something solid now," Tiannan said suddenly.
Wang looked up. "What kind of leverage?"
"The man who led the attack—I can give him to you," Tiannan said quietly.
Wang's eyes narrowed, uncertain.
If I hand him over, Lu Feng can't deny a thing. And with the Kong, Liu, and Bai families pushing from the outside, the pressure will spread.
The Bureau won't want this kind of scandal snowballing.
You just have to lean a little, Uncle Wang—Changqing will fold.
Once they do, my father walks free.
Wang drummed his fingers against his knee, thinking.
After a long pause, he shook his head slowly.
"Xiao Nan, I'm afraid this one's beyond me."
"Uncle Wang," Tiannan lowered his voice, "If you're willing to take the lead and give Changqing some pressure, you won't do it for nothing.
Neither will the other three families.
Wang's brow furrowed deeper.
Back at Su's factory
Police were still combing through the site.
Su Tianbei, having slipped away for a moment, went around to the rear lot, opened his car door, and reached beneath the driver's seat.
He'd brought a gun tonight—just in case.
Now that the worst was over, he wanted to hide it somewhere safe.
His hand groped under the seat—
and froze.
The gun was gone.