Chapter 8

Author's POV:

Chen Xinyi sat in her living room after dinner when her phone suddenly rang. She frowned and answered, "Hello?"

"Such a cold greeting for someone who helped you," the man on the other end responded.

Chen Xinyi's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

The man chuckled darkly. "Money."

"I don't owe you anything," Chen Xinyi said, annoyed.

"Oh really? Someone might expose your secret soon, so I helped and bought you some time."

Chen Xinyi froze at his ominous words. "Who is it?" she demanded.

"Someone even your husband can't offend."

A pause stretched as dread gripped her chest. "How much time do I have?"

"Depends on how much you're willing to pay me. I can divert his attention, for a reasonable price of course."

Chen Xinyi exhaled sharply, contemplating her limited options. "How much?"

The man chuckled again, sending a chill down her spine. "Well, I know you can afford it, so...5 million yuan."

"Are you crazy?" she sputtered. "That's too much, my husband will ask questions!"

"The husband you might not have for much longer if-"

"Fine!" Chen Xinyi cut him off, fearing where that thread led. "I'll make a plan. I can do 2 million for now, I'll see how to arrange the other 3 million, okay?"

"If you so much as think of playing me for a fool, I'll get that man knocking on your door sooner than you can blink," the man threatened. "I'm sure your husband would just love to know what you did. Maybe he can pay me too if I give him a call and sell him the information."

Chen Xinyi's face paled. "Don't you dare try to blackmail me!"

"Two days. I'm giving you two days to pay me, or all bets are off." 

"Fine," she spat, then abruptly hung up on him.

Alone again, Chen Xinyi's stoic facade crumbled as she erupted into a primal scream of rage and panic. Sinking back onto the couch, she buried her face in trembling hands as burning shame and dread roiled within her.

Someone knew her dark secret - the one that could unravel her entire world if exposed. She had no choice but to comply with this unforeseen blackmail, at least for now. But who was this mysterious threat? And just how much did they really know?

There had to be a way to regain control of this precarious situation. Because if she lost her footing now, everything she'd schemed and sacrificed for would come crashing down in ruinous fashion.

Song Yangyao came downstairs in her pajamas, drawn by her mother's outburst. "Mom, I heard you screaming. What's wrong?"

Chen Xinyi quickly regained her composure. "Nothing honey, go back to bed. You have school tomorrow."

But Yangyao wasn't easily deterred, eyeing her mother's distressed state warily. "You don't look okay." 

"It's nothing your mom can't handle, alright?" Chen Xinyi replied, forcing a reassuring tone. "Just go rest, and let me have my wine in peace."

Yangyao eyed her skeptically for a long moment before finally relenting with a sigh. "Okay..."

As her daughter's footsteps retreated upstairs, Chen Xinyi was alone again with her turbulent thoughts in the cavernous living room. The idea of being blackmailed for 5 million yuan by some deadbeat lowlife made her blood boil. She knew better than anyone that submitting to blackmail was never just a one-time payment - he'd keep bleeding her endlessly if she capitulated.

No, Chen Xinyi couldn't afford this ticking time bomb jeopardizing everything she'd schemed for. There had to be a way to neutralize the threat before it exploded catastrophically in her face. Grabbing her wine glass, she took a fortifying sip and began methodically weighing potential countermeasures.

********************

Meanwhile, across town in a ramshackle house that seemed one harsh breeze away from collapse, an old man in tattered clothing sat hunched on a stained couch. He nursed a glass of cheap vodka, lips twisted in a triumphant sneer. The decrepit man knew the uppity Chen Xinyi would give him exactly what he wanted - she was far too terrified of the dark secrets he held over her being exposed.

If the arrogant shrew didn't want to pay up, he could always peddle the information to whatever mysterious threat currently had her spooked. Or go straight to her unsuspecting husband as a final nuclear option. Either way, the desperate old hustler needed money urgently to escape the woes rapidly closing in around him.

Sadistic debt collectors had been pounding on his rickety door every day for the past two weeks, demanding restitution. This audacious blackmail scheme represented his only lifeline out of the deep hole he'd dug himself into over years of self-destruction. He just needed enough to settle his litany of debts with the ruthless underground casino boss plaguing him, then he could cut ties with Wuhan forever and attempt to start fresh somewhere new.

Of course, the old man didn't trust Chen Xinyi's self-serving nature any farther than he could currently throw her. Lingering in her vicinity longer than absolutely necessary would surely prove a hazardous mistake. He needed to collect his leverage, settle his affairs, and vanish before her vicious reprisals inevitably came hunting.

As if perfectly punctuating his self-preservation instincts, the old man's rickety front door suddenly exploded inward with a deafening boom. He started violently, cheap liquor sloshing from his glass as two massive, brutish-looking men barged into the cramped living room.

"Well, well...enjoying some beverages, are we?" one sneered, surveying the dingy space with undisguised contempt. "Our boss sent us to finally collect what you owe."

The old man instinctively shrank back, hands raised in a pitiful warding gesture. "I-I don't have it yet! Please, just give me a few more days!"

"You've tested our boss' patience for far too long already, old man," the other rumbled in a voice that seemed to reverberate in the old man's bones. "Now it's gone."

Without another word, the two heavies abruptly set upon their cowering target, fists and boots raining down in a flurry of brutal strikes and kicks. The old man didn't bother trying to fight back - he knew better than to potentially provoke even harsher retaliation against his frail, weathered body. Instinctively curling into a protective ball, he could only desperately guard his head and vital organs as the savage beating wore on.

After what felt like an eternity of thunderous impacts and pitiful grunts of pain, one of the men finally relented with a disdainful sneer.

"Three days, old man," he growled, droplets of spittle speckling the old man's ashen face. "Pay up in full, or our boss will no longer be so..."merciful" with your worthless hide."

The implied ultimatum hung in the air as the two enforcers turned and stormed out, leaving the old man crumpled and gasping on the threadbare floor. He wasn't sure how long he simply laid there, dazed and cradling his surely broken ribs, before finally managing to pull himself up onto trembling legs. Collapsing back onto the couch felt like a herculean effort as every labored breath lanced through his battered torso.

Gradually, the fog of panic gave way to cold pragmatism ingrained by a lifetime of hardship and hard choices. Shaking his head, the old man reaffirmed his grim determination - the money he extorted from Chen Xinyi would pay off his debt to the ruthless casino boss. Then, he could finally cut all ties with Wuhan's seedy underbelly and disappear...somewhere, anywhere to start over from scratch.

It was his only chance at salvation from the deep, ever-darkening pit he'd spent decades digging for himself. Bruised and bloody, the old man silently prayed Chen Xinyi would deliver - because showing up empty-handed when the merciless debt collectors inevitably returned would surely mark a death sentence he couldn't escape.

Clutching his aching ribs, the old man struggled to catch his ragged breath on the dingy couch. He could still taste the coppery tang of blood trickling from his split lip, a harsh reminder of the ruthless enforcement he'd just endured. 

As the throbbing aches gradually gave way to a dull, pervasive soreness, the old hustler's mind shifted to pragmatic planning. He couldn't risk lingering in this ramshackle hovel any longer than absolutely necessary - not after incurring the boss' brutal wrath over his outstanding debts.

No, as soon as he collected the blackmail money from Chen Xinyi, he would settle every last yuan owed. Then the old man could finally sever all ties with Wuhan's seedy underbelly and disappear to start over with a tenuous clean slate somewhere far away. It was his sole lifeline, his one desperate gambit to claw back from the bottomless pit of vice and destitution he'd spent decades digging himself into.

Groaning with effort, the old man slowly levered himself up from the couch, grimacing as shockwaves of pain rippled through his bruised body with every lurching step. He needed to gather what few possessions he could carry and formulate an evacuation plan. Sticking around any longer would be outright suicidal after crossing the boss' enforcers.

He hobbled into the cramped kitchenette, rifling through battered cabinets until he located a bottle of cheap liquor and an ancient-looking tin of medical supplies. Throwing back a fortifying swig, the old man popped the tin's lid to retrieve a tattered roll of bandages. Gingerly, he bound his throbbing ribcage as best he could manage, the rough fabric already staining crimson in localized splotches. 

It would have to do for the time being - he lacked funds for any professional medical care. The old man just hoped nothing was punctured internally as he took another steadying pull from the bottle. He would need every ounce of stamina and focus in the critical days ahead. 

Finishing the rudimentary self-treatment, the old hustler began gathering his few salvageable belongings into a ratty duffel bag. Tattered clothes, bottles of booze, a pathetic collection of personal sentimental items acquired over decades of transient existence. He stuffed it all in haphazardly, eyes systematically scanning his meager surroundings for anything else of potential value or use.

Whatever it took, the old hustler would extract that financial lifeline from the uppity socialite. Even if scoring his payday required applying some...explosive motivation of his own design. Chen Xinyi didn't have a choice but to pay up.