A little after five, Su Tianyu, Su Tianbei, Bai Hongbo, Kong Zhenghui, and Liu Lao'er headed into Longkou District to host a dinner for Yu Jinrong at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town.
Yu didn't linger. He stayed for barely twenty minutes—long enough to learn who was who among the younger generation of the four families—then left with a few polite words and a measured smile.
On paper, it was nothing. In practice, it was everything. The mere fact that Yu showed up at all meant he was willing to be seen—an unspoken signal that, within the Sanitation Management Committee, he'd back the four families' push against Changqing, so long as it didn't scorch him in the process.
This was bureaucratic politics, pure and simple. Without blood in the streets, Yu wouldn't have risked the appearance. But with a shooting that struck a police director and public anger simmering over monopoly, arson, and a maimed worker, Changqing's power was wobbling. That gave Yu's faction—the anti-Changqing bloc—its opening.
The tide was turning, not by luck but by calculation. Four families had finally decided to stand shoulder to shoulder.
Throughout dinner, Tianyu barely spoke. He just watched Yu closely—his posture, his rhythm, his way of speaking without ever saying anything direct. A refined man, slick but steady. An old fox. A man who understood how to swim in deep water.
Zhanan District — Changqing Company
From his leather chair, Li Hongze stared at his phone, jaw tight. "Say it again. What exactly are you telling me?"
"I went through Deputy Director Guo," Li Xing said over the line. "He talked to Wang Daolin. It's a no-go. If you don't give ground, Wang's going to keep pressing. Full audits—arson, assault, the restaurant shooting. Lu Feng's boys are already in holding. I can't pull strings if there's nowhere left to tie them. You understand?"
Silence stretched.
"If Wang keeps squeezing, it only gets uglier," Li Xing continued. "The story's already writing itself. Changqing as a violent monopoly, state enemy number one. Once that sticks, we're exposed."
He paused. "My advice? Loosen your grip. Let it cool off."
Li Hongze rubbed his temple. "Guo's idea is… off-the-record talk?"
"Exactly."
"Alright. I hear you."
He hung up, lit a cigarette, and let the smoke curl as he weighed his options.
Just an hour earlier, Zheng Fu'an—the committee lead in Zhanan—had called, furious. At the morning meeting, the newly appointed Yu Jinrong had blasted Changqing by name, accusing them of violent monopoly, disrupting the sanitation system, and dragging the bureau's reputation through the mud. Every word landed like a slap across Zheng's face, who had championed Changqing for years.
Worse, Yu had evidence—Changqing's own enforcers were sitting in holding cells. Even Zheng's allies in the room had no way to defend him.
So Zheng did what officials always do: shove the blame downhill. "Fix it. Fast."
And there was the media. Li knew Kong's people had started poking around. The only reason the scandals hadn't already blown wide open was because someone, somewhere, wanted to leave space for a deal. If that window closed, the arson and assault cases would be headline news before morning.
Li took one last drag, stubbed out the cigarette, and picked up his phone.
"Hello?"
"Little Su. Let's talk."
"Sure."
"Ten o'clock. Fuman Tower. Bring the four families," Li said, then ended the call.
Zhanan People's Hospital
By seven, the core group had assembled around Su Tiannan's hospital bed—Tianyu, Tianbei, Kong Zhenghui, Bai Hongbo, and Liu Lao'er. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and tension.
Tianyu stood by the rail, brows drawn. "Call Director Wang first. See where he stands. Then we set our demand."
"What's our demand?" Tiannan asked.
"Not just our people. Money," Tianyu said.
Tiannan frowned. "Isn't that a bit much?"
"Look around," Tianyu said coolly. "You think we're ever going back to shaking hands with Changqing? That bridge is dust. If we're enemies already, why bargain like neighbors?"
Tiannan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "I'll come with you tonight."
"No," Tianyu said. "Li picked the venue. You're showing up won't change his mind. We'll handle it."
"I'm worried Lu Feng will lose it. You and he—"
"Don't worry about me," Tianyu smiled, small but sharp. "I spent four years losing everything I had and didn't blink. You think I'm scared of Zhanan's 'Number One Blade'? Please."
Tiannan sighed. "Fine. Call Wang first."
He dialed. "Uncle Wang, Li Hongze wants a meeting."
"Then go," Wang said over the line. "Negotiate as planned."
"We'll push for our people—and compensation."
"No need," Wang warned. "Take their money and you owe them."
"Don't take it, and they're still our enemies."
A pause. "… Do what you think is right," Wang said finally. "Li and I won't step in tonight. Talk first, call me after."
"Understood."
They hung up. Tiannan looked at his brother. "Be careful."
"I'll be fine."
9:30 p.m. — Fuman Tower
Changfeng Street buzzed with tension. Fuman Tower's grand lobby glowed gold beneath the lights, packed with at least thirty Changqing men.
Outside, two clusters of officers—Wang's people on one side, Li's on the other—watched each other from across the block.
At the City Management office, Zheng Fu'an stayed late, chain-smoking, waiting for the phone to ring.
In Longkou, at his villa, Yu Jinrong leaned back on the sofa, eyes in the evening news. "Keep an ear on Fuman Tower," he said to his aide. "I want to know how they settle it."
"Yes, sir."
At 9:40, headlights swept the street as seven or eight cars rolled in from the south. Bureau officers stepped into the road to flag them down.
Tianyu lowered his window, flashing a grin. "Evening, officer. We clear to talk business?"
"Talk all you want," one officer said coolly. "Start a fight, and we will start a sweep. Don't test it."
"Yes, sir." Tianyu gave a lazy salute.
They waved the convoy through. The cars lined up neatly in front of Fuman Tower. Tianyu, Tianbei, Kong, Liu, Bai, and six lieutenants climbed out.
The night air was sharp, the sky heavy with clouds. The whole street felt wired—like a blade balanced on its edge, waiting for the first move to draw blood.