Chapter Eight: Azure Summit

The panoramic elevator descended slowly. Looking down, Xiao Cheng saw Yuer, his sister-in-law, getting into a Bentley. This was a limited-edition sports car that hadn’t even hit the domestic market yet, with a price tag exceeding ten million yuan.

Fang Yujia had her own car—a four-seater Maserati Quattroporte. It wasn’t particularly valuable, but it suited her well.

Xiao Cheng recalled something his sister-in-law had said not long ago. Could it be that she was going out with Qiao Yifeng? In his memory, his sister-in-law had never been alone with any man.

A flicker of unease crossed Xiao Cheng’s face. He had a bad feeling about this. Judging from the various things Xiao Guowei and Qiao Yifeng had done lately, he already suspected something was amiss. Now, with his sister-in-law going out with Qiao Yifeng, the possibility of trouble only grew.

Even if it was just a hunch, Xiao Cheng didn’t want his sister-in-law to take any risks. His instincts were always spot on; if not, he would have perished during those five years on the run.

He went downstairs, found his sister-in-law’s Maserati, unlocked it with her key, and immediately set off in pursuit.

The Bentley stood out in traffic, and with Xiao Cheng’s innate peak-level spiritual perception, there was no worry of losing track. He trailed the Bentley quietly, weaving through the city for half an hour until they arrived at a clubhouse on the northern outskirts.

Why come all the way to such a secluded place? If Xiao Cheng had doubts before, now he was certain—Qiao Yifeng clearly had something planned. Otherwise, why choose this location?

To talk business? For a meal? There were countless places for that—why here, of all places?

He wasn’t the only one with this feeling; Fang Yujia sensed it too.

However, Qiao Yifeng had said the private cuisine at this clubhouse was excellent, unmatched anywhere else in Shanghai. Since he was her old classmate, always considered a model of good character and scholarship, Fang Yujia chose to believe him.

The clubhouse was a renovated standalone villa, with no other houses nearby. The décor was exquisite—solemn, yet elegant, in a striking black-and-white palette, giving it an air of sophistication.

“Wait!” As the two were about to enter, a familiar voice called from behind.

Fang Yujia turned and saw Xiao Cheng, her brother-in-law. She frowned in confusion—what was he doing here?

Qiao Yifeng’s face darkened, as if he’d bitten into something foul. He was baffled by Xiao Cheng’s persistent presence.

But the expression was fleeting. Perhaps it was just as well that Xiao Cheng had come; it would save him the trouble of dealing with him later.

“What are you doing here?”

Fang Yujia was initially displeased, but, considering that it was indeed unsafe for a woman to come to such a place alone, she felt a little relieved by her brother-in-law’s presence. She wasn’t angry at his following her.

Xiao Cheng was well aware of how unwelcome he was. Still, even if he wasn’t wanted, he had to come—he simply couldn’t rest easy otherwise.

“I haven’t eaten lunch yet, so I thought I’d join Young Master Qiao for a meal. Surely you wouldn’t mind?” Xiao Cheng smiled nonchalantly and stretched lazily.

“Of course not. It’s my honor to have Young Master Xiao join us,” Qiao Yifeng replied graciously, gesturing for Xiao Cheng to go in first.

The three entered the Qingfeng Clubhouse. Qiao Yifeng brought up the rear, subtly signaling to the staff and security. With Xiao Cheng’s peak-level spiritual perception, this little scene didn’t escape him. He merely smiled and let it slide, curious to see what game Qiao Yifeng was playing.

Xiao Cheng had to admit, the layout of this clubhouse was intriguing. The placement of rockeries, ponds, and beast statues subtly echoed the principles of geomancy.

Though converted from a villa and somewhat small, the designer had cleverly arranged mirrors around the space, creating an open feeling. Natural breezes were artfully channeled through corridors and walkways, giving the illusion of being in nature.

The owner of this clubhouse clearly had some skill, though in Xiao Cheng’s eyes, it was nothing extraordinary.

Qiao Yifeng was a gifted speaker, offering a nonstop introduction to the various antiques and furnishings as they walked. Yet Fang Yujia showed little interest; such things never appealed to her.

Wherever Fang Yujia passed, the male attendants couldn't help but be stunned. Even though they worked at a high-end establishment and had seen all kinds of beauties, a woman as stunning as Fang Yujia was a first. How to describe her beauty? Yes—breathtaking.

Led by the attendant, the trio entered an elegant private room, clearly reserved in advance by Qiao Yifeng.

This was a club with a culinary focus—besides some basic entertainment facilities, its main draw was fine dining.

Xiao Cheng took the menu without hesitation, flipping through it, but found nothing to his taste. The dish names were all too refined; he had no idea what any of them actually were.

“Give me ten plates of donkey liver and lungs,” he told the waiter, tossing the menu aside.

The waiter was clearly startled by the request, looking at Xiao Cheng uncertainly.

Donkey liver and lungs was odd enough, but to order ten plates at once—even for a club famous for its cuisine, with even rare deep-sea black sand pork in stock, such an obscure dish was unlikely to be available.

Who would come to such a high-end place for donkey offal?

Not only the waiter, but even Fang Yujia and Qiao Yifeng found it hard to believe. Why suddenly ask for donkey liver and lungs, and ten plates at that? Fang Yujia knew her brother-in-law never played by the rules, so she said nothing, letting him be.

The waiter, looking quite troubled, said the dish would take a while. Xiao Cheng paid him no mind; today he was as stubborn as a tortoise—determined to have donkey liver and lungs.

Qiao Yifeng chuckled, remarking on Xiao Cheng’s unique taste. Xiao Cheng shot him a glance and began to attack a plate of fruit.

Seeing nothing unusual about Xiao Cheng, Qiao Yifeng relaxed slightly. Xiao Cheng’s sudden appearance was unnerving; he’d worried it might spoil his plans. Tonight was crucial. Qiao Yifeng excused himself to use the restroom.

As Qiao Yifeng left, Xiao Cheng watched him go, knowing he was likely off to make preparations.

He wasn’t afraid. Though his current cultivation was only at the fourth stage of Foundation Building and he might not be a match for a true martial arts expert, his spiritual perception was strong enough. Even if he couldn’t win, he could still get his sister-in-law out safely.

Qiao Yifeng went to another room.

Inside sat an old man in fine clothes and several burly, shirtless men, their bodies covered in ostentatious tattoos. It was obvious at a glance they were not good people. In their midst sat a video camera.

Qiao Yifeng gave the old man a signal and asked, “Third Master, is everything ready?”

The old man laughed, “With your instructions, Young Master Qiao, I’ve prepared everything carefully. Here’s your medicine.” He handed over two small white pills. If one looked closely, there were letters printed on them—CML2. Had Xiao Cheng been present, he would have recognized them.

The old man continued with a sly grin, “Young Master Qiao, you’re in for a real treat. That woman is a famous beauty in Shanghai, and judging by her features, she appears to still be a maiden.”

Qiao Yifeng was momentarily taken aback. Fang Yujia was married—how could she still be a virgin? But the old man was seasoned; he was probably right.

Then it dawned on him. According to rumor, the Xiao family’s direct line practiced a form of celibate cultivation. Perhaps, even after marriage, nothing had happened. He grew excited—what an unexpected bonus.

“When it’s over, make sure you cripple that little bastard!” he ordered.

The old man, unaware of Xiao Cheng’s true abilities, simply nodded. He had done this sort of thing countless times and felt no qualms.

——