Ye Fengwu finally realized how far he'd lost control.
He hadn't meant to explode at Qin Qinghan—he was just... too worried about her. Furious, too. Furious that she'd known this trip could be dangerous and still walked straight into the trap.
Regret came fast. The last thing he wanted was to scare her, to leave her thinking he was some unhinged brute. So he forced his jaw to unclench, the corners of his lips twitching into something that vaguely resembled a smile.
"Uh… I'm just helping you get some payback," he muttered.
As he spoke, his boot came down again. The crunch of shattered bone echoed through the room—Gold Leopard's other leg was now ruined.
Ye Fengwu had already dug up this bastard's past through Lin Qiang—rape, extortion, murder. The kind of scum who didn't deserve to breathe. And all he could think was how close he'd come to being too late. If he'd arrived just a minute later… Qin Qinghan would've been—no, he couldn't even finish the thought.
Gold Leopard was barely conscious, drifting in and out from the pain. But Ye Fengwu wasn't tired. Monsters like this deserved to suffer.
He grabbed a half-full bottle of red wine and poured it over Gold Leopard's head.
The man jerked and screamed, coming awake with a gasp. Blood and wine streamed down his face. "You... you son of a bitch," he wheezed. "You know who I am?"
Ye Fengwu said nothing. He swung the empty bottle, smashing it against the man's skull. The sharp half that remained glinted in the light before Ye Fengwu drove it straight into Gold Leopard's shoulder.
Qin Qinghan couldn't watch. She turned her face away, trembling. She'd always known Ye Fengwu could be violent, but this—this was savage beyond belief. The sheer brutality of it made her scalp crawl.
Ye Fengwu dragged a chair over and sat down, exhaling smoke as he lit a cigarette. "You?" he said coldly. "You're nobody. But your boss… that's someone I do know."
Gold Leopard spat blood and laughed through broken teeth. "You? Know my boss? Don't make me laugh. You'll be dead before sunrise. My boss will grind your bones to dust, and your woman—"
The last word never made it out.
Ye Fengwu stomped on his mangled hand, and the crunch of splintering bones filled the room.
Qin Qinghan went pale. "Let's just go," she whispered. "We can't afford to cross Fenghao Real Estate."
She'd never met Fenghao's boss, but her grandfather had told her stories.
Haihua City's underworld was ruled by two men—the Eastern Dragon King and the Western Tiger. Together, they controlled everything that lived in the shadows. The Qin family was powerful in business, but even they wouldn't dare defy either one.
And the man behind Fenghao Real Estate was none other than the Eastern Dragon himself—Jiang Hao. A man who'd clawed his way to the top in just eight years, leaving a trail of nearly a hundred corpses in his wake.
Ye Fengwu didn't move. He took another slow drag of his cigarette.
"Didn't you come here to talk business?" he said. "If this deal falls through, your grandfather's going to throw you to the wolves."
Qin Qinghan gave a bitter laugh. "If we die here, there won't be any project left to talk about."
Before Ye Fengwu could answer, the sharp screech of tires cut through the air outside. Doors slammed—many of them.
Gold Leopard's lips curled into a bloodied grin. "Ha… you're dead, kid."
Within seconds, the doorway filled with a swarm of men, all armed with steel pipes and murder in their eyes.
Qin Qinghan's breath hitched; she instinctively pressed closer to Ye Fengwu.
He stayed perfectly calm. Pulled up another chair.
"Sit," he said, patting it. "We'll wait here to sign the contract."
If she hadn't been raised to keep her composure, she might've screamed at him. Sign the contract? Was he insane?
But looking at the mob in the doorway, she realized there was no escape anyway. So she sat—her whole body trembling.
A voice thundered from behind the crowd:
"Whoever caused trouble in my engineering department—give me one good reason not to kill you where you stand."
The men parted like a tide.
A tall figure strode in—broad-shouldered, dressed in a black trench coat. A long, jagged scar cut down from his left eye to his cheek, turning what might've been a handsome face into something terrifying.
At one glance, Qin Qinghan's face drained of color. She didn't need an introduction. That scar was infamous.
Jiang Hao—the Eastern Dragon King himself.
The man who ruled Haihua's underworld with an iron fist.
She knew then that they were dead. Jiang Hao could snap his fingers and erase them both from existence—and even the Qin family wouldn't dare call the police.
She turned to Ye Fengwu, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I dragged you into this."
He looked at her—expression oddly calm. "Honey," he said quietly, "if we make it out of here alive, let's go get that marriage certificate tomorrow. I won't sleep easy until we do."
Before she could react, he took her hand. It was ice cold.
She tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. Then she saw his exaggeratedly pitiful expression—half teasing, half desperate—and her heart softened despite herself. Maybe they would die here. So she nodded faintly. "Okay."
A grin broke across Ye Fengwu's face—briefly. Then his eyes hardened again as he looked up at Jiang Hao.
"My wife came here to discuss business," he said coldly. "Your men tried to touch her. Think that's reason enough?"
Qin Qinghan wanted to cry. That wasn't a reason—it was suicide. Jiang Hao and Gold Leopard were cut from the same cloth.
Gold Leopard coughed wetly, trying to lift his head. "Boss, kill him. Please."
But Jiang Hao just stared. His eyes hadn't left Ye Fengwu since the moment he entered. His huge frame trembled ever so slightly.
"Boss," Gold Leopard whimpered again. "Please, you gotta help me—"
The room went still. Then Jiang Hao finally spoke. His voice was low and hoarse.
"Wake them up."
Everyone froze. Then, uncertain but obedient, his men kicked the unconscious thugs awake. One by one, they groaned, crying out in pain—each of them with broken ribs or worse.
"B-Boss…" they stammered, faces pale.
Jiang Hao's expression was unreadable as he took a steel pipe from one of his men. Without warning, he swung.
Crack!
The sound of bone snapping was deafening. One thug screamed as his leg bent at a grotesque angle.
Everyone stared—stunned. Even Qin Qinghan covered her mouth in shock.
Jiang Hao didn't stop. He raised the pipe again and brought it down on another man's thigh.
Another sickening crack. Another scream.
"B-Boss!" one of the others cried out, trembling. "W-we… what did we do wrong?"
But those who knew Jiang Hao didn't ask questions.
Because when the Dragon King acted—he always had a reason.