Chapter Sixteen: Underlying Currents Surge

After Xiao Cheng left the Qingfeng Club, Zhuo Qinglian tidied her clothes, the blush still lingering on her face, her head lowered as if lost in thought. There was something odd about Xiao Cheng today—although only a month or two had passed since they last met, he seemed much more mature.

She summoned Third Master and questioned him closely about the afternoon’s events. After learning the details, she found herself surprised. Xiao Cheng had actually killed two of their men. She did not doubt his ability to do so if pressed, but the fact that both men were strong and died without any signs of a fight—both killed instantly, their necks snapped—was astonishing. This method of killing was something she herself could barely accomplish, and never with such ease.

What shocked her even more was learning that Third Master had been rendered completely helpless in Xiao Cheng’s presence. If the earlier events could be explained away, this was beyond her comprehension—even she would not have been able to subdue Third Master so easily.

In her memory, Xiao Cheng had always been an unremarkable, spoiled youth—much stronger than ordinary people, but still far from her equal. Now, however, he had accomplished feats even she could not match. It was utterly unfathomable.

“You’re saying you didn’t even see his movement before he grabbed you?” Zhuo Qinglian asked with a frown.

“Yes. I had no time to react at all,” Third Master replied, head bowed. He was unsure how she would punish him, having offended the young master—her man, no less. He was well aware of her ruthless methods, her reputation for cruelty well earned; the facade of harmlessness was but a mask, and her moniker, the Black Widow, was not given lightly.

He felt wronged, for who could have imagined that the mysterious young master, never seen in the gang before, would turn out to be such a youth? Moreover, Xiao Cheng seemed utterly unaware of the Qinglian Gang’s existence, and did not even recognize its leader. He dared not bring this up to Zhuo Qinglian, fearing Xiao Cheng might have been pretending ignorance to catch him off guard.

He recalled that five years ago, when the ranks were established, he’d first learned of the mysterious young master. If he reasoned it out, the conclusion was absurd—Xiao Cheng had become the young master at thirteen or fourteen? If not for Zhuo Qinglian’s personal confirmation, he would never have believed it.

Most in the gang believed Zhuo Qinglian had no man. Despite her own claims, they thought she had invented a shield to fend off Second Master’s advances.

After Third Master confirmed everything, Zhuo Qinglian simply nodded, her expression calm, though her heart was in turmoil. Could it be that Xiao Cheng’s current strength had surpassed hers? She could hardly believe it, but Third Master was not a man to lie, and she had no choice but to accept it.

He pressed on. “He also said he could wipe out the Qinglian Gang. Do you know what background he has?”

“Wipe out the Qinglian Gang? He does have that capability. As for his background, that’s not something you need to know.” Zhuo Qinglian smiled, dismissing Xiao Cheng’s threat as idle talk.

Third Master’s heart pounded with fear—did the young master truly possess such power?

Zhuo Qinglian understood his thoughts, but did not bother to explain.

The reason she said Xiao Cheng had such ability was because the Xiao family possessed a deeply hidden security company. Unlike regions in the Middle East, companies like this were the only legal organizations in the country resembling mercenaries, and the Xiao family’s security firm was mercenary in all but name.

The police in Shanghai couldn’t touch the Qinglian Gang without evidence, but mercenaries dealt in direct violence—they needed no proof, and as long as they left no trail, no one could do anything to the security company.

“Leave me. I need some time alone. Also, not a word of today’s events to anyone. Go warn the others—if anyone breathes a word, bury them.”

Third Master shuddered, nodded, and left, relieved, knowing the matter was now closed.

When he was gone, Zhuo Qinglian fell silent. She did not know why Xiao Cheng had suddenly become so strong, but there was no doubt that it was a good thing. After a long while, she finally looked up, lit a slim cigarette, and murmured words no one could have understood:

“This feeling is wonderful.”

…

The Xiao family’s ancestral home had been built in the Ming and Qing dynasties. Despite the passage of centuries, it remained unchanged. It was designed like a Suzhou garden—pavilions, winding corridors, rockeries and ponds all harmoniously arranged. Though ancient, it always exuded a fresh, clear atmosphere.

Xiao Fusheng, seizing a rare moment of leisure, sat by the rear lake fishing. Standing behind him was a middle-aged man, Wang Qiyi, who had served him for years. Few knew that Wang Qiyi was a formidable expert.

The old man’s fishing, as Xiao Cheng used to jest, was pointless—the fish were released into the lake, only to be caught again. But only Xiao Cheng dared to mock him so openly.

“Tell me about what happened last night.” After a while without a bite, Xiao Fusheng lost interest.

Wang Qiyi nodded, and recounted, “I was following Fang Yujia last night to the Qingfeng Club. To my surprise, the young master was there as well…”

If Xiao Cheng had been present, he would have understood the source of his confusion. In his previous life, he had not gone to the club, so it must have been Wang Qiyi who saved Fang Yujia.

Wang Qiyi described the events objectively, without speculation. Relying on infrared night vision through the windows, he could not see all the details, but related how Xiao Cheng killed two men, struck Qiao Yifeng, then fought with members of the Qinglian Gang, and finally shared a room with the gang’s Black Widow.

“This troublemaker is always stirring up enemies everywhere, but what puzzles me is why he would kill members of the Qinglian Gang?”

That was what the old man could not fathom. He was well aware of the relationship between Zhuo Qinglian and Xiao Cheng, especially since Xiao Cheng never hid his actions.

“I’m not sure,” Wang Qiyi replied, “but I did notice something odd: after entering the restroom, the young master killed two men almost instantly, then went into another room and apparently got into a conflict, yet soon after, he emerged unscathed. I’ve since learned that Third Master of the Qinglian Gang was seriously injured last night, which must have been the young master’s doing. But as far as I know, this Third Master’s external martial arts have reached their peak—our young master shouldn’t be a match for him.”

Wang Qiyi stole a glance at the old man, and seeing him equally perplexed, grew even more doubtful. He had watched Xiao Cheng grow up; ever since losing his purity at twelve, Xiao Cheng’s cultivation had stagnated at the first stage of foundation building—stronger than most, but not by much. Third Master’s external martial arts, though not as refined as internal schools, were still terrifying at their peak. Xiao Cheng should have been no match for him—perhaps not even a match for someone at the peak of foundation building—so how had Third Master been injured?

“Oh? Is that so?” Xiao Fusheng’s brow furrowed. “Did you see how he did it?”

Wang Qiyi shook his head. Xiao Fusheng could not understand it either. Could this troublemaker have reached the stage of condensation? The thought crossed his mind, but he dismissed it. After all, he had practiced purity techniques, yet insisted on being a libertine—could such a character truly achieve condensation? There must be another reason.

The two men, in tacit agreement, never once questioned why Xiao Cheng had killed or attacked anyone. In their eyes, such things were beneath consideration—did he ever need a reason to act?

“I understand. Keep an eye on him this week—see if anything unusual happens.”

Wang Qiyi accepted the order and left, leaving Xiao Fusheng alone in the pavilion. He sighed—how had the family produced such a black sheep?

He then turned his thoughts to Fang Yujia. Why had she agreed to meet Qiao Yifeng? Was it simply for the sake of Hu Xiao Pharmaceuticals, or was there something more—perhaps even feelings between them?

He knew his granddaughter-in-law well; she rarely spared anyone a kind word, and if it was just business, there was no need to meet at the Qingfeng Club. If she had agreed to this meeting, there had to be something more.

“Well, if Yujia is sincere, what does it matter if she remarries? I can’t let her spend her whole life as a widow.”