Neon Nights

Ye Feng glanced at her for a moment but soon shifted his focus back to his phone, scrolling through it indifferently.

Nyx, seeing her master ignore her, pouted in dissatisfaction. Without another word, she turned into a streak of light and disappeared back into the sword, making her displeasure evident.

Ye Feng, still immersed in his phone, eventually switched off the screen and slid it into his pocket. Leaning back, he let his thoughts drift over the day's events. A sudden idea crossed his mind, and a smirk curled on his lips.

Without hesitation, he got up from the bed, changed into a crisp white t-shirt and black pants, and stepped out. Hailing a cab, he set his destination—Shanghai Nightlife Hub.

Upon arrival, he stepped out, paid the fare, and walked toward a well-known pub—Neon Nights.

The bar was lively, its neon lights flickering against the night sky. Music pulsed from inside, a rhythmic thump that resonated through the air. Two bouncers stood guard at the entrance, their sharp eyes scanning the crowd. Groups of young men and women moved in and out of the club, laughter and conversation blending with the music.

Ye Feng approached the entrance, handed over the entry fee without a second thought, and stepped inside.

The moment he entered, a wave of pulsating music crashed over him. The bass thumped like a heartbeat, resonating through the floor, while colorful neon lights flickered in chaotic patterns, casting an intoxicating glow over the dancers and drinkers alike. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol, blending into a dizzying cocktail that could make any ordinary person lose themselves in the madness of the night.

The club was packed. A lavish bar lined one side, tended by bartenders who mixed drinks with theatrical flair. Shelves stacked with bottles of premium liquor glittered under the neon lights. Waitresses in form-fitting cheongsams weaved through the crowd, serving drinks to groups of wealthy patrons lounging in private booths. At the center of the club, a spacious dance floor was filled with people moving in sync with the rhythm of the DJ's electrifying beats. At the far end, a raised stage showcased the club's most alluring attraction—beautiful dancers swaying seductively, their bodies illuminated by flashing strobe lights.

The club was a well-oiled machine. But Ye Feng wasn't here to enjoy the entertainment. His eyes scanned the room with calculated precision. Tonight, he had one goal: to make a move on any gang, and he wasn't about to waste time.

His gaze finally locked onto the center of the room, where the main attraction was on full display. Su Mei. She moved like a serpent on stage, every curve of her body accentuated by the crimson silk dress that clung to her like a second skin. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back, catching the flickering lights. Her eyes, sharp and alluring, radiated an undeniable pull, ensnaring anyone who dared to look.

Ye Feng noticed the surrounding and was sure that she was definitely planted here by some gang to attract the crowd. 

But for Ye Feng, Su Mei was just a pawn in his game.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he moved toward the stage. He wasn't here just to watch. He was here to make his mark.

When he reached the stage, he extended a hand toward her. "How about a dance?" he asked, his voice casual but tinged with a playful arrogance.

Su Mei paused, her eyes briefly narrowing before she spoke, her voice dripping with both curiosity and caution. "You don't look like the type who needs to pay for company."

Ye Feng chuckled darkly, "I prefer taking what I want."

Her eyebrows arched in slight surprise, but without another word, she took his hand and descended from the stage. The crowd parted instinctively. The audacity of a stranger wearing cheap clothes and claiming the star dancer piqued the curiosity of many.

The dance floor stretched wide, and as the two of them moved to the rhythm of the music, Ye Feng was every bit the confident, almost teasing partner. His hand rested possessively on her waist, his grip firm, though not without the subtle arrogance that marked his every move. He brushed his fingers against her skin as he led her, his body close enough to keep her on edge, yet far enough to keep the tension alive.

Su Mei narrowed her eyes at him. "You're bold," she muttered under her breath, clearly uncomfortable but unwilling to pull away.

Ye Feng's smirk widened. "And you're playing hard to get."

Ye Feng then placed his hands on her butts and started caressing, all this time he was maintaining eye contact with her and smile plastered over his face. His movement became bolder and , he squeezed her butt with one hand while holding her waist with another hand. She tried to move away but he fixed her in his grip. 

Before she could respond, a shout echoed across the dance floor.

"Bastard! Get your hands off her!"

A group of men, dressed in sharp black suits, charged toward them. At the front was a burly figure with almost 35 years old , his face looked ferocious. This was Hu Lang, one of the Black Dragon's most trusted lieutenants. His reputation preceded him.

Su Mei sighed in resignation, stepping away from Ye Feng's grasp. "You've caused enough trouble," she muttered, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Ye Feng, however, merely raised an eyebrow and lit a cigarette, taking a slow drag as he exhaled the smoke in a lazy spiral. His smile remained unfazed. "I was wondering when you dogs would bark."

Hu Lang's face twisted into a snarl. "You must have a death wish!"

Ye Feng looked at him with a smile and said,"A death wish? Nah, death is too afraid to come near me".

"So, you are a cocky bastard , don't worry i will make you wishing for death , guys finish this bastard!"

Without another word, the gang lunged at Ye Feng. The first one swung a wild punch, but Ye Feng dodged it effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. He countered with an elbow strike to the man's ribs, the sickening crack of bone audible in the chaos. Another thug attempted to grab him from behind, but Ye Feng shifted his weight, using the man's momentum to flip him onto the ground with a brutal slam.