"Boss~ All alone?" The woman greeting customers at the door smiled like a blooming flower. "You're here quite early—the place isn't even ready yet."
Fang Zhiyi paused at the entrance. "Should I wait here, then?"
The woman sized him up. Though his attire gave nothing away, his aura was unmistakable—like... like those high-ranking officials.
Little did she know, the man before her had spent decades as a regent and centuries as a sect leader in the world of cultivation. Such presence was only natural.
She stepped forward and looped her arm through his. "Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, boss. Please, come in. I’ll show you around. Early birds get the best seats, after all."
As night fell, the Hundred Flowers Pavilion gradually came alive. Whoever had invented this place was a genius—filled with song and dance, fine liquor, and beautiful women. Fang Zhiyi, however, found the heavy scent of makeup suffocating.
The woman seated beside him noticed his restless gaze and raised her glass with a coy smile. "Boss, why so glum?"
"Host, she’s here—the one in the white cheongsam, swaying unsteadily!" the system alerted.
Fang Zhiyi’s eyes snapped to a young woman stumbling in an ill-fitting cheongsam, seemingly drunk, as a hat-wearing man guided her toward the second floor.
Without hesitation, Fang Zhiyi stood, startling the hostess. He took two steps before turning back to drag her along, heading straight for the stairs.
The hostess protested, "What’s the rush? Upstairs costs extra, you know? You hear me?"
The man was reveling in his triumph. He’d had his eye on this girl for days, and tonight, his drugged drink had finally done the trick. Now, he’d take her to his room and enjoy her properly.
The moment the man entered a room, Fang Zhiyi shoved open the neighboring door and pushed the hostess inside.
"Hey! What’s your deal?" She blinked in confusion as Fang Zhiyi moved to shut the door.
"Just stay put. I’ll pay you later." He tossed her a silver dollar, and she quieted down.
Stepping into the hallway, Fang Zhiyi counted to ten before kicking open the other door. The man, pants halfway down, jerked in alarm. "The hell are you?!"
Fang Zhiyi answered with a resounding slap. "Your damn father!"
"Y-you—do you even know who my father is?!" The man reeled from the sudden assault.
"What, you looking for daddy? How should I know who your father is? But you—drugging a girl to have your way? How about I drag you to the constabulary, huh?"
The man scoffed. "The constabulary? My father is the constabulary’s— Wait, wait! Big bro, let’s talk this out!"
Fang Zhiyi’s expression remained icy as he shut the door and picked up an ice pick. "If your connections are that good, then you’ve got to die."
"I was wrong, big bro! Please! It’s my first time!"
Killing him outright wasn’t an option—not because Fang Zhiyi lacked the will, but in this era, without connections, even the most justified act could land him on the executioner’s block.
Once the deed was done, Fang Zhiyi turned to the unconscious girl. With no other choice, he spent another system credit to exchange for two pills. His plan was already in motion.
By the time the door burst open again, Fang Zhiyi had arranged himself to look like he’d just finished brawling with the unconscious man.
Zhou Huaqiang froze in the doorway, but his eyes instantly locked onto his sister lying on the bed. He rushed forward, only for Fang Zhiyi—panting dramatically—to bark, "Hands off her!"
Zhou Huaqiang turned, glaring coldly.
Fang Zhiyi feigned righteous fury. "You’re with this bastard, aren’t you? Drugging a girl for your fun? You’re dead!" He lunged, deliberately staggering to let Zhou Huaqiang dodge easily.
Quick-witted, Zhou Huaqiang grasped the situation from his words and hurried to explain, "I’m her brother!"
"Brother?" Fang Zhiyi pressed on skeptically. "What kind of brother lets his sister end up here? Back off!"
Zhou Huaqiang hesitated, torn between gratitude and frustration.
"Host, wrap it up. Any longer and things’ll get messy," the system warned.
Fang Zhiyi pretended to examine the girl, shooting Zhou Huaqiang a wary glance before gasping in feigned horror. "That bastard—he overdosed her! She could die!"
Panicked, Zhou Huaqiang shoved past him to check his sister’s pulse.
Fang Zhiyi hesitated, then cursed under his breath. "Damn it, guess it’s my problem now." He pulled out a small paper packet, unwrapping it to reveal a sugar-coated pill.
The sight of it made him want to curse. A basic Western drug, and the system had the gall to charge him a whole credit!
As he moved to pry the girl’s mouth open, Zhou Huaqiang grabbed his wrist. "What are you doing?!"
"What’s it look like? This is my family’s heirloom medicine—brings anyone back from death’s door!"
Zhou Huaqiang checked the girl’s breathing. It was faint.
Seeing the urgency, Fang Zhiyi stopped the act and forced the pill into her mouth, then poured water to help her swallow.
"Will this work?" he muttered nervously to the system.
"Relax, host. One pill now, another later—she’ll be fine," it assured.
Zhou Huaqiang watched intently. After what felt like an eternity, the girl’s eyelids fluttered open. "Where... Brother?"
"Lingling!" Zhou Huaqiang nearly wept with relief.
Fang Zhiyi scratched his head sheepishly. "So you are siblings. My mistake." He turned to leave, silently counting in his head.
"Wait!" Zhou Huaqiang called. "I owe you my sister’s life. At least tell me your name. I, Zhou Huaqiang, will repay this debt!"
"Fang Zhiyi—no aliases, no regrets." He waved dismissively, then pointed at the unconscious man. "That punk claimed his father’s the constabulary chief. You’d better scram."
"The constabulary..." Zhou Huaqiang’s fists clenched.
On his way out, Fang Zhiyi brushed past a group of similarly dressed men. Their bald leader eyed him briefly before heading upstairs.
"That’s the gangster who’ll ally with Zhou Huaqiang," the system noted.
"Not my concern. Just wait and see."
Back home, Fang Zhiyi found Fang Xiaoxiao still awake, having prepared bathwater for his return.
"Why’d you bother? I told you not to do this stuff."