Call Me Boss

The sweltering summer night.

The Yelaixiang Bathhouse was as cold as an ice cavern.

Ding Renfeng shivered, his teeth chattering as he stammered, "Sister Yi, he agreed. Maybe we should turn down the cold?"

"Yeah, Sister Yi, he agreed," Yao Ji chimed in.

From his position, he could clearly see Brother Bao’s bald head now coated in a layer of ice.

It was obvious.

None of them wanted to suffer frostbite in this scorching 38-degree heat.

Achoo!

A sneeze from outside plunged the entire hall into silence.

"Everyone’s here—who the hell just sneezed?"

"Who was that?"

Shen Muxuan’s gaze turned icy, and the air temperature dropped another degree.

"Seems like someone’s outside the window!"

"Shit!"

A voice rang out.

Then, jagged shards of ice surged forth, taking the shape of flying feathers and shattering the window.

Crack!

A pair of black-framed glasses was pierced clean through by the icy projectiles, snapping in half.

"Damn, no matter how many times I see this, it’s terrifying!"

The man stared in horror at his broken glasses. A second slower, and they would’ve taken his eye out.

He was hiding in the same spot An Yi had used earlier.

"Whatever. I’ll observe from farther away next time. Need to figure out how to keep my glasses intact."

Muttering to himself, he tucked away his densely scribbled notebook and silently melted into the night.

Shen Muxuan’s eyes were frosty.

That bespectacled guy—she’d seen him several times before.

Always lurking at a distance, scribbling in that notebook.

"Take me to the dungeon. Unless you want to be skewered like a candied hawthorn!"

Shen Muxuan’s voice was glacial as she glared at Ah Hao.

The ice spikes melted, freeing Ah Hao’s limbs.

"Alright, I’ll take you there right away."

Ah Hao wore a troubled expression, but the corners of his lips curled imperceptibly.

You’re dead if you mess with the Gourd Immortal, girl.

Ah Hao smirked inwardly. This girl was strange, sure, but no match for the Gourd Immortal.

Once in his clutches, she’d be nothing but a withered flower.

And with that black-haired girl already sent down…

Tsk. Two rare beauties. Maybe we’ll even get a taste.

"Wait—where’s my elevator card?!" Ah Hao frantically patted his pockets, cold sweat beading on his forehead.

Shen Muxuan stared him down, frost gathering in her palm.

Ah Hao’s hair stood on end. He dug through his pockets like a madman, but the card was nowhere to be found.

He had no doubt—if he didn’t find a way down soon, this deceptively harmless girl would kill him.

"Listen, miss, I’ll be straight with you. There’s a fat bastard in the dungeon who calls himself the Gourd Immortal. He’s obsessed with figuring out how to eat people—and he’s a pervert. Plenty of disobedient girls have been… ruined by him."

Ah Hao spoke with feigned concern, his back drenched in sweat.

Shen Muxuan’s voice was steel. "Take me down. If anything happens to An Yi, I’ll bury all of you with him."

"No need. I’m already out."

A clear voice cut through the tension.

Crash!

The elevator doors were pried open with a combat knife, then kicked apart.

The figure stepping out was none other than An Yi.

He was starting to regret his earlier bravado—using the knife to sever the elevator’s wiring had seemed cool at the time.

Now, climbing back up had been a pain.

And there were still bloodthirsty minions waiting below, stranded without the elevator.

Hearing An Yi’s voice, Shen Muxuan’s icy eyes softened.

Tears welled up as she pouted. "I—I thought you died down there! Why did you take so long?"

"Sorry about that," An Yi replied gently.

Ah Hao gaped in disbelief.

No way.

This sweet, innocent girl couldn’t possibly be the same one who’d threatened to turn him into a human kebab.

"You—" Shen Muxuan started, then hesitated.

"I’m sorry."

An Yi sighed, his expression darkening as he shook his head. He opened his palm, revealing a pendant necklace.

Shen Muxuan’s eyes dimmed. She forced a weak smile. "You did your best. Don’t blame yourself."

Then, as if all her strength had drained away, she collapsed.

"Muxuan!"

An Yi caught her in a panic. After checking her pulse, he exhaled in relief.

"She’s just exhausted."

What he didn’t notice were the faint crimson lines beginning to surface on Shen Muxuan’s arm.

Nie Qinglan, who’d just crawled out of the elevator, blinked in confusion before suddenly grasping something.

"Ugh… so dizzy."

Thud.

She flopped to the ground dramatically.

One second.

Two.

Three.

When An Yi didn’t react, she quietly scrambled back up.

Ah Hao’s face paled at the sight of An Yi and Nie Qinglan emerging from the dungeon.

No one knew the horrors lurking below better than him—he’d been stationed there for two years.

Forget the Gourd Immortal, their so-called trump card.

Lie Tao alone was a nightmare—a genuine martial artist with terrifying staff skills.

Ah Hao himself couldn’t last ten rounds against him.

And the other black-clad enforcers? All elite fighters, handpicked for their brutality.

Yet here was An Yi, walking out unscathed—with the girl he’d just sent down.

What did that mean?

"Th-the Gourd Immortal… Lie Tao…?" Ah Hao stammered.

"Oh, they’re playing mahjong downstairs. Said they needed a fourth." An Yi deadpanned.

"Bullshit!"

Ah Hao’s blood ran cold. If this kid had taken down the Gourd Immortal and Lie Tao, he stood no chance.

Without hesitation, Ah Hao clutched his ice-pierced thigh and bolted for the exit.

An Yi’s gaze hardened.

Anyone else could run—but not him.

The surveillance footage showed Ah Hao was the one who’d taken Aunt Zhou.

And he was likely the same bastard who’d nearly beaten her to death.

Ah Hao barely made it past the doorway before a triangular bayonet rammed through his throat.

The attacker? Ding Renfeng.

"You… you—"

Ah Hao gurgled, blood frothing at his lips as the blade jutted from his neck.

Staring into Ding Renfeng’s eyes, a realization dawned on him in his final moments.

"Didn’t expect you to be the one who killed Junzi. Told you I’d gut you someday."

Ding Renfeng yanked the blade free, and Ah Hao crumpled into a pool of blood.

Trembling, Ding Renfeng couldn’t steady his hands.

After years in the underworld, Zhou Jun had been one of his few true brothers.

Without An Yi’s intel, he’d never have gotten his revenge.

This was a debt he could never repay.

"Brother Yi, I—"

Ding Renfeng’s voice cracked as he watched An Yi’s retreating figure.

Cradling the unconscious Shen Muxuan, An Yi paused mid-step.

"Don't call me Yi-ge anymore. From now on, call me Boss! I like that title."

In an instant, his blood surged with excitement.

This—this meant recognition!

Ding Renfeng understood the implication, his gaze turning solemn as he replied in a slightly trembling voice, "Yes, Boss!"

Nie Qinglan curled her lips into a smile, skipping after him playfully. "Hey, Boss An, Mr. An—need a secretary? I can put on black stockings in three seconds flat!"