Song Zhu

While inside the restaurant Bai Shaung was sitting with Bai Lian ,who was sittting in her front and Bai Ling in her lap.

As Ye Feng's figure disappeared from the restaurant, Bai Lian let out a long sigh, swirling the tea in her cup. Bai Shuang, however, was still staring at the entrance, her expression unreadable.

"He's changed a lot," Bai Lian finally spoke, her voice calm but thoughtful.

Bai Shuang blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. "Of course he has, Aunt. It's been three years. People change."

Bai Lian studied her niece for a moment, then placed her cup down. "Shuang'er, I don't mean just in appearance or demeanor. Ye Feng is… different. The way he looks at people, the way he speaks—he's not the same young man who saved Bai Ling."

Bai Shuang hesitated. "I know he's become a bit... unrestrained, but he's still Ye Feng."

Bai Lian gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "You're too naïve, child. That man—" She paused, remembering the way his eyes trailed over her, filled with something unreadable yet dangerous. "He's a predator. He doesn't just take what he wants; he makes you offer it willingly."

Bai Shuang frowned. "Aunt, you're exaggerating. He's always been playful."

Bai Lian leaned forward slightly. "Listen to me, Shuang'er. I don't doubt that he cares for you in some way, but be careful. A man like him… he doesn't belong to just one woman."

Bai Shuang bit her lip, lowering her gaze. "I don't care," she whispered.

Bai Lian sighed again but said nothing more.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

A month Later 

In New York City, atop a soaring skyscraper overlooking the busy city, a man sat in his posh office clutching his chair's armrests. Song Zhu, a name that inspired dread and admiration in business circles, had created a global empire. His reach extended from property to technology sectors growing . Yet at this moment, none of that mattered. His world had fallen apart with one piece of news—his son, Harold Song, was no more. And not just gone, but killed in China very brutally.

The city lights flickered outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across his sharp, chiseled features. His face remained eerily calm, but the veins protruding from his fists and the deep furrow in his brow betrayed the raging storm inside him. He had spent decades accumulating wealth and influence, ensuring that his family would never have to suffer indignities at the hands of others. Yet, his only son had been slaughtered like a mere insect, and he hadn't even been there to prevent it.

A knock on the heavy oak door interrupted his dark thoughts. His most trusted assistant, Wang Bo, stepped in, his expression grave but professional.

"Sir, the arrangements have been made," Wang Bo spoke in a composed voice. "Your assets have been liquidated as per your orders. The private jet is ready to take off at any moment."

Song Zhu nodded, his sharp eyes glinting with determination. He had wasted no time. As soon as he learned of his son's death, he decided to return to China, bringing with him an astronomical amount of money. Money could do many things—it could buy information, men, and most importantly, revenge.

He stood up, adjusting the cuffs of his custom-made suit. The man in the mirror reflected back his fury, barely restrained behind his cold, calculated expression.

"Book a meeting with the Song Family as soon as we land. I want to see the Patriarch immediately," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble filled with bone-chilling resolve.

"Yes, Sir." Wang Bo bowed and swiftly left the room, knowing that any delay would be unacceptable.

Song Zhu cast one last look at his office, the place where he had built his fortune from the ground up. The mahogany desk, the shelves filled with awards and business accolades, and the city skyline beyond—these were things he had once considered symbols of his success. But none of it could bring back his son. None of it could erase the fact that he had failed to protect his own blood.

He turned on his heels and walked out.

By the time his private jet took off from American soil, a storm was already brewing over China.

The journey was long, but Song Zhu spent every second gathering information.

"Tell me everything we know so far," he ordered Wang Bo as they settled into the luxurious cabin of the jet.

Wang Bo adjusted his glasses and pulled out a tablet, his fingers scrolling through files before stopping at the report compiled by their intelligence network. "Harold was last seen in Shanghai. According to our sources, he was taken by unknown assailants. The police investigation has been sluggish at best, but the autopsy report suggests he was tortured before he was killed."

Song Zhu's jaw tightened. "Who did it?"

Wang Bo hesitated. "That's where things become murky. There were no witnesses willing to speak, and even the gangs in the city have remained tight-lipped. However, there are whispers about a man known as Hades—"

"Hades?" Song Zhu's eyes narrowed.

"Yes. That name keeps surfacing in underground circles. It appears that whoever this Hades is, he's made significant waves in Shanghai's underworld recently. Some even say he's the real power behind the Black Dragon Gang."

"Black Dragon Gang?" Song Zhu repeated, tapping his fingers against the leather armrest. "I thought they were just another mid-level gang."

"They were," Wang Bo confirmed, "until a few weeks ago. Suddenly, they started taking over territory at an unprecedented rate. Other gangs have either been crushed or absorbed. What's strange is that there's no clear information about who's leading them. Hei Long is the public face, but there's speculation that he answers to someone else—someone powerful."

Song Zhu's mind raced as he processed the information. The methodical expansion of the Black Dragon Gang and the sudden disappearance of any solid leads pointed to one thing—whoever killed Harold was meticulous, someone who knew how to cover their tracks.

"And the police?" he asked.

"Useless," Wang Bo sneered. "We've confirmed that certain high-ranking officials have been bribed or intimidated. Any real investigation has been buried before it could even begin."