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"Today is..."

"The 29th of Lunar December?"

"Holy shit!"

"Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve?"

"I thought there were still a few more days to go."

Rubbing his chin, which had grown a short stubble from days of neglect, Lin Yu smacked his lips lightly, feeling a sudden pang of emptiness in his heart.

Maybe it was just in his head, but even though the room looked the same as usual—even decorated with a few extra "Fu" characters for the occasion—Lin Yu couldn’t shake the feeling that it was hollow.

Empty.

So empty it ached.

Especially with the cheerful laughter of children outside the window, the feeling grew even more unbearable.

Sitting motionless on the chair behind his desk for a while, Lin Yu decided he didn’t want to wallow in this suffocating mood any longer.

He stood up, put on his thick down jacket and winter pants, and made up his mind to go out for a walk.

Might as well pick up some frozen dumplings while he was at it.

After all, he’d need them for New Year’s Eve dinner.

Once dressed, with his phone and headphones in hand and everything else ready, Lin Yu stepped onto the doormat by the entrance and bent down to put on his shoes.

"Makka Pakka..."

The sudden ringtone made him pause mid-motion.

Seeing the familiar number on the screen, a flicker of surprise crossed Lin Yu’s face.

Li Yuan?

What did he want at this hour?

With New Year’s Eve tomorrow, was he actually inviting Lin Yu to celebrate at his place?

Lin Yu frowned. That didn’t sound like something Li Yuan would do.

Since when was he that considerate?

...Then again, who knew?

Lin Yu quickly reconsidered.

After all, thanks to Li Yuan’s propaganda, Lin Yu’s status in the Black Blood Gang was practically elevated to that of a loyal and heroic idol.

Maybe, for the sake of the gang’s New Year gathering, Li Yuan really was planning to use him as a prop to flaunt his so-called "benevolence."

As soon as he answered the call, before Lin Yu could even utter the words "Old Uncle," Li Yuan’s voice burst through the other end—frantic, terrified, nothing like his usual cold and ruthless self. He sounded like a wounded dog backed into a dead-end alley, on the verge of tears.

"Xiao Long!"

"Save me!"

"Come save me, quick!!!"

Li Yuan screamed without a shred of dignity, but before Lin Yu could respond, the line erupted into chaos—clattering, thumping—as if the phone had been dropped.

Lin Yu’s frown deepened as he listened to the muffled commotion through the receiver. It was clear Li Yuan was in trouble.

But who was behind it?

The Fire Scorpion Gang?

Or...

Zhao She?

The answer came quickly.

A faint rustling sound came through the phone, followed by a few casual taps and a light puff of breath, as if someone was dusting something off.

Once the noise settled, a voice laced with amusement spoke up.

"Master Yu, come pay us a visit."

"I’ve got a little something to settle with you too."

Hearing the unfamiliar yet undeniably badass title "Master Yu," Lin Yu immediately knew it was Zhao She’s doing. A small wave of relief washed over him.

Thank god it was him. If the Fire Scorpion Gang had taken down Li Yuan, Lin Yu’s status as the Black Blood Gang leader’s nephew would’ve been pretty awkward to explain.

"Where?" Lin Yu asked.

"Hmm..."

"How about the Lucky Fortune Mahjong Parlor?"

"More convenient that way."

Even though he’d braced himself, the mention of the Lucky Fortune Mahjong Parlor made Lin Yu’s eyebrow twitch in surprise.

That place was practically the Black Blood Gang’s most important stronghold.

It was where Li Yuan had built his empire, where he held meetings, and one of his most frequented spots.

If Zhao She dared to summon him there, it meant he’d already taken full control of the gang.

But seriously, how?

Hadn’t it been less than two months since Zhao She first approached him?

Damn.

Guess prison really was his "enlightenment retreat."

Pulling his shoes on properly, Lin Yu stepped out of his apartment, slipped on his headphones, and descended the narrow, aging staircase barely wide enough for two people.

Zhao She had mentioned settling something with him...

What did he owe Zhao She?

Or was it the other way around?

Lin Yu racked his brain but came up blank.

Whatever.

It wasn’t like this was gonna be some deadly ambush.

After hailing a cab and arriving at the Lucky Fortune Mahjong Parlor, Lin Yu pushed open the door—only to freeze at the sight of the packed room.

What the hell?

Shouldn’t Zhao She have overthrown Li Yuan and restructured the gang by now?

Why were almost all of Li Yuan’s key subordinates still here, unharmed?

Not just the key members—even the third and fourth-in-command from Li Yuan’s days were present.

And forget all that—

Hei Hu, what the hell are you doing here?

You, of all people, betrayed Li Yuan too?

What is this, some kind of family reunion?

Lin Yu tore his gaze away from Hei Hu’s ashen, miserable face and scanned the crowd warily, half-expecting Li Yuan to be wheeled out on a stretcher any second.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, Zhao She emerged, followed by a very familiar face—Zhao Dahu.

"Master Yu, you’re here."

"Come, come."

"Right this way."

Zhao She personally stepped forward, gesturing politely with a smile that looked more unsettling than welcoming on his sharp, ruthless features.

After a brief mental check to confirm Zhao She had no reason to harm him, Lin Yu followed him into the room.

Just as Zhao Dahu moved to enter behind them, Zhao She suddenly spoke.

"Tiger, wait outside."

Zhao Dahu hesitated for a split second before obediently stepping back and closing the door behind them.

Lin Yu was baffled. What could Zhao She possibly need to discuss with him that Zhao Dahu couldn’t hear?

A flicker of caution rose in his chest.

Zhao She, however, seemed completely at ease. He gestured for Lin Yu to sit, poured him a cup of tea, then settled into the chair behind the desk. Pulling out a file, he flipped through it, punched numbers into a calculator, and finally arrived at a figure.

870,000.

With that number in mind, Zhao She opened a drawer, took out five bank cards, and slid them across the table toward Lin Yu before leaning back with a smile.

"Master Yu, this is the share of your parents’ inheritance that Li Yuan embezzled."

"I’ve converted it to cash for you."

"One million."

"Each card holds 200,000."

"Take it."

"I won’t add anything extra—no need for formalities between us."

"If you ever need money in the future, just say the word."