Chapter 17: Conflict

“Now, Gong Shenxi, surely you must remember something?” The man looked at her with a roguish, wicked smile, as if eager to see a flicker of panic cross her face. The mischief in his eyes only deepened, betraying his ill intent.

But as the saying goes, you ought to look at the master before you strike the dog. Yet this dog before her seemed unaware of whom he had provoked.

Shen Zhaoxi regarded him coolly. “And what do you want me to say?”

“Oh? Say what? Could it be there are things our young lady doesn’t know how to respond to?” He cast a glance at the bloodied man kneeling on the floor, then his sly eyes narrowed, a grin tugging at his lips as he drew closer to Shen Zhaoxi. “Guess what would happen if I dragged him to the Old Master and told him in detail everything you’ve done in Sand City? Given his temper, what fate do you think awaits you?”

In Dongzhou, the Old Buddha, head of the W Group, was the most ruthless figure of all. Gong Shenxi killing Gong Xiali was nothing short of a challenge, a blatant disrespect toward him.

And those who dared provoke the Old Buddha seldom met a pleasant end—disfigured, decapitated, dying in utter misery.

Within the group, for years, everyone had believed Gong Shenxi was the Old Buddha’s adopted granddaughter, though he had never said as much. Her address toward the Old Buddha was no different from others, and his sternness toward her as impartial as with anyone else. No one suspected their true blood bond.

So this Second Master, too, thought as much, which emboldened him to challenge her today.

Shen Zhaoxi’s brows drew together, her expression turning cold. Her eyes, their depths unreadable, settled squarely on the man’s face.

“What did you say?”

Seeing her reaction, the man assumed she was frightened. He smiled triumphantly, stepping even closer—like a mongrel in heat—and said, “Oh, of course, if you’re willing to come to my room tonight, offer yourself to my bed, and let me see your body, then I, Second Master, will swallow this secret and never trouble you again. I’ll cherish you always.”

“Outrageous!” Yu Mo, hearing this, stepped forward to block the man’s path.

The man’s arm was seized and shoved aside with force, sending him stumbling back several steps. He spun around, his polished black shoes scraping the floor, and glared at Yu Mo standing before Shen Zhaoxi.

Yu Mo’s gaze was dark and murderous, chilling enough to kill.

“Bastard!” the man spat, wincing from the pain, “Who are you to be so insolent when I’m speaking—”

His anger flared. “Guards!”

At his command, over a dozen of his bodyguards surged forward, surrounding Shen Zhaoxi. She had brought only a handful of close guards and Yu Mo with her. She’d never liked bringing an entourage to the group’s headquarters.

The atmosphere grew tense, oppressive, and domineering.

But in that charged moment, the young woman shielded behind Yu Mo suddenly smiled. She slid Yu Mo’s hand away and stepped forward, meeting the man’s furious gaze head-on.

“What did you just say?” Shen Zhaoxi advanced slowly, leaning in close.

She brushed her lips near his ear, exhaling a soft, warm breath that made his rage-flushed face turn rosy, the scent of roses on her skin sending a shiver through his frame.

“If I come to your room and undress for you, you’ll keep my secret forever, never betraying me to the Old Master—is that what you said?” Her slender hand rose to rest on his chest, her bright eyes dancing, lips curved in a beguiling smile. Watching her, Yu Mo’s brows knitted, his gaze dark.

She regarded the man’s vile face. Draped in her coat, the pale skin at her collarbone gleamed like cream, tinged with a faint blush. The man, catching a glimpse, inhaled her rose fragrance, his breath faltering, a strange heat stirring inside.

He grinned, reaching out to seize the hand she’d placed on his chest. Yu Mo’s eyes flashed.

But before Yu Mo could stop him, Shen Zhaoxi was quicker.

Her seductive eyes suddenly went cold. She seized the man’s wrist and, with a swift wrench, broke it.

A scream like a slaughtered pig tore from his lips.

Shen Zhaoxi’s strength was shocking—she snapped his hand cleanly. Her expression was grim, eyes slanting up with an unspoken authority. “Did you call my person a dog?”

“And who are you, to bark in my presence?”

She flung him aside, and the man rolled on the ground, clutching his shattered wrist, his face drained of color, sweat pouring down his brow.

Shen Zhaoxi approached him. “They say a dog raised a thousand days learns obedience. How is it you’ve been in the W Group so long, yet never learned to obey your master?” Not only disobedient, but ignorant of his own standing, daring to challenge her—was he courting death?

Did he really think her temper so mild?

“Gong Shenxi!” the man spat, trembling with pain, his eyes venomous as he glared at the young woman before him. “Gong Shenxi, you’re quite something, aren’t you!”

His hand was broken, agony lancing through his bones. He wanted nothing more than to chop this woman to pieces.

“You want to fight me?” he sneered. Even in such disgrace, he tried to salvage his dignity, scheming how to take revenge for his humiliation.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll expose your secrets?”

“Oh?” Shen Zhaoxi raised an eyebrow, looking down at his hate-filled, pale face as if nothing had happened.

“What secrets could I possibly have?” she replied coolly.

Gong Shenxi’s darkness was etched into her very bones. For three years, she’d avoided open conflict with Gong Xiali, but in countless business dealings, her gaze and actions had betrayed a cunning beyond coincidence.

“Gong Shenxi, you killed Ali. Do you really think the Old Master won’t find out? And when Aunt Qiong returns with irrefutable evidence of your crime, do you think you’ll die a painless death?”

Would she, like those kept in the group’s dungeons, have her limbs hacked off, left to live like a dog begging for scraps? If so, her end was near.

He would never let her go. He would make her pay, make her suffer until she understood his power.

The “Aunt Qiong” he spoke of was Gong Xiali’s mother, the Old Buddha’s adopted daughter. She had always indulged Gong Xiali, giving her the courage to defy Gong Shenxi.

He stared at her, gloating over her predicted downfall.

“You said it yourself—I killed someone. How could the Old Master not know?” Shen Zhaoxi smiled faintly.

“What are you implying?” The man sensed something off in her smile. Who could relax so easily when their crime was about to be exposed, when they faced dreadful retribution?

“What do I mean?” Shen Zhaoxi’s voice was mild. “You can guess at your leisure.” She tilted her head, her eyes glinting mischievously. “But since you have so much energy to worry about me, perhaps you should worry instead about yourself.”

With that, the girl flashed a wicked grin at her guards. Instantly, dozens of black-clad bodyguards closed in, swiftly subduing the men he had brought. Their skills were unparalleled within the group.

The man’s face drained of blood. Before he could rise, a gun was pressed to his forehead.

He froze, not daring to move.

“Gong Shenxi, what are you planning?” he stammered.

His greatest folly was believing she had no allies in the group. With a single command, half the group’s power lay in her hands.

Seeing him panic at last, all bravado gone, Shen Zhaoxi spoke, “Drag him away. Cut off the hand he tried to touch me with.”

She paused, then added, “No—cut off his hands and feet, and lock him in the dog cage. Make sure it’s small—just enough to fit him.”