Seven o'clock the next morning.

Chen Feng stood in front of an old teahouse in Nancheng.

The sign read: Juxian Ju — Gathering of Worthies Teahouse.

Three stories. Red wood facade. Two stone lions at the entrance.

It looked like a perfectly ordinary place to drink tea.

Everyone in Nancheng knew the truth — this was Dingsheng's oldest gambling parlor in Shenzhen.

No gambling.

No business talk.

Just a place to drink tea.

But anyone who sat in a second-floor private room was someone who mattered in Nancheng.

Chen Feng pushed the door open.

The first-floor hall was empty, save for an old man reading a newspaper in the corner.

The old man looked up at him.

"Second floor. They're waiting for you."

Chen Feng said nothing. He went straight upstairs.

---

Six men sat in the large private room on the second floor.

All in their forties or fifties.

All of them ran Dingsheng's gambling parlors across Shenzhen.

Old Zhou stood in the corner. When he saw Chen Feng enter, he nodded.

The seat at the head of the table was empty.

Chen Feng walked over and sat down.

The six men watched him. No one spoke.

After a long pause, a man in gold-rimmed glasses spoke up.

"You're the one who swallowed seventeen of Dingsheng's parlors last night?"

"Yes."

"How did you do it?"

"Your people didn't want to fight anymore."

"What does that mean?"

Chen Feng pulled a USB drive from his pocket and set it on the table.

"Inside is everyone's books."

"From the past three years — what you skimmed off the parlors, what you pocketed, what you sent to Han Jiang."

"All of it."

The man in gold-rimmed glasses went pale.

"You investigated us?"

"I didn't investigate you."

Chen Feng looked at him.

"I investigated the money. You were just collateral."

He slid the USB drive across the table.

"This drive — I made eight copies. One for each of you. One for me."

"Read through your own. Then decide —"

"Do you want to work with me, or do you want to go back to Han Jiang."

The room went silent.

The man in gold-rimmed glasses picked up the drive. Looked at it.

Then he laughed.

"You're an interesting one."

"My name is Old Qiu. This teahouse — it's mine."

"I'm forty-seven. I've been with Dingsheng for twelve years."

"I know exactly how Han Jiang treated me."

He slipped the drive into his pocket.

"I'll take your drive."

"Consider it — making a friend."

He held out his hand.

Chen Feng looked at him.

Shook it.

The others reached out their hands too, one after another.

Chen Feng stood up.

"Then from today. I set the rules in Nancheng."

---

"Rule one — the parlors stay. But no more rigging the tables for people who don't know the game."

Old Qiu blinked.

"You mean the Ma San kind of setup?"

"Yes. No more fleecing rich kids. No more tricking them into signing away collateral."

"Rule two — accounts open to inspection. My people check the monthly flow."

"Rule three —"

Chen Feng walked to the window. Pushed it open.

Outside was Nancheng's old street. Morning rush hour traffic was already backed up.

"Rule three — if anyone comes looking for you from overseas —"

"Tell me immediately."

His tone shifted when he said it.

Old Qiu caught it.

"You have a score to settle?"

"Yes."

"With who?"

Chen Feng didn't answer.

He looked out the window.

"Three years ago, I almost died overseas."

"The man who did it got away."

"Now he's back."

Old Qiu was quiet for a moment.

"Alright. I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Thanks."

Chen Feng turned and headed downstairs.

At the stairwell, Old Qiu stopped him.

"Hold on."

"What?"

"That USB drive you gave us — the numbers in it. Are they real or fake?"

Chen Feng glanced back.

"Go home and find out."

"But I can tell you one thing — that apartment you bought in Nancheng three years ago. Han Jiang doesn't know about it."

Old Qiu's face froze.

He'd bought that house using a dead relative's ID.

Even his wife didn't know.

"You —"

"I told you. I investigated the money."

"You were just collateral."

Chen Feng went downstairs.

Old Qiu stood at the second-floor window. He watched Chen Feng leave the teahouse and get into a taxi.

Disappear into the morning traffic.

He pulled out his phone. Scrolled to a number.

Hesitated.

Didn't dial.

He set the phone on the table.

The two characters on the screen were still there.

He stared at them for a while.

Pressed the lock button.

The screen went black.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

"Interesting."

In forty-seven years, he'd seen ruthless men. He'd seen smart men. He'd seen men with connections.

But someone like Chen Feng — not cruel, not loud, didn't slam tables — just turned your cards over clean — he'd never seen anyone like that.

"Old Qiu?"

A voice called from downstairs.

Old Qiu answered and walked to the stairwell.

"That Chen guy — what's his angle?"

The man downstairs asked.

Old Qiu thought about it.

"...An angle you'd better not mess with."

---

The same morning.

Su Group headquarters.

Su Mingyuan sat at his desk. A document lay in front of him.

Su Chengzhi stood beside him, head down.

"Dad... I didn't want to..."

"Didn't want to?"

Su Mingyuan slapped the document on the desk.

"You gambled away the mortgage papers for the company's South District warehouse! Do you know how much that warehouse is worth?!"

"I... I didn't mean to..."

"You didn't mean to — do you know what happened after those people left last night?!"

Su Chengzhi looked up.

"What?"

"That mortgage document you lost — it was delivered to my desk this morning."

"Huh? Who sent it?"

Su Mingyuan opened his drawer and pulled out a business card.

Three words printed on it —

"War God Hall."

Su Chengzhi froze.

"War God Hall again?!"

"Yes. The documents were returned. Not a cent missing."

Su Mingyuan leaned back in his chair.

"Do you know what this means?"

Su Chengzhi shook his head.

"It means —"

Su Mingyuan sighed.

"— that brother-in-law of yours who's been living under our roof for three years — is someone our entire family can't afford to cross."

Su Chengzhi opened his mouth.

After a long pause, he managed:

"...Who is he?"

Su Mingyuan didn't answer.

He picked up the card.

Turned it over.

On the back was a handwritten line:

"Tell Su Wan. Keep the shard."

Su Mingyuan stared at the words for a long time.

A shard. What shard?

He remembered the piece of porcelain Su Wan had been clutching all day.

So it was from him.

He sighed.

Three years. He'd never once looked that son-in-law in the eye.

Now he didn't even know who the man was.

"Tell Su Wan. Keep the shard."

No signature.

But Su Mingyuan knew who wrote it.

Su Chengzhi stood beside him, his face burning red.

Suddenly he raised his hand and slapped himself across the face.

Smack.

Su Mingyuan jumped. "What are you doing?!"

"I owe him."

Su Chengzhi hung his head.

"Brother-in-law... he's a good man. I'm the one who's not human."

Su Mingyuan watched him for a moment, then sighed.

Too late for that now.

Su Chengzhi crouched in the corner, holding his head.

"Dad... do you think he'll come back?"

Su Mingyuan didn't answer.

He opened the drawer. Carefully placed the card inside.

Locked it.

He wouldn't come back.

But just in case.

Su Chengzhi stood up. Wiped his face.

"Dad. I want to find him."

"Where?"

"...I don't know."

Su Mingyuan looked at him.

For three years, this was the first time he felt like his son —

had grown up. Even just a little.

Even if it happened at the worst possible time.

"Dad. That card —"

"Locked up."

"Let me see it."

Su Mingyuan hesitated, then opened the drawer and handed it over.

Su Chengzhi took it. Turned it over.

The words were still there: Tell Su Wan. Keep the shard.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then handed the card back to his father.

"Keep it."

Su Chengzhi handed the card back.

"I'm going to find him."

"Where?"

"Old Nanshan Teahouse. I heard he goes there."

Su Mingyuan looked at him.

Didn't stop him.

Su Chengzhi turned and walked out.

He stopped at the door.

"Dad... if I find him — what should I say?"

Su Mingyuan thought about it.

"Tell him... the Su family owes him. We'll pay it back. Slowly."

Su Chengzhi nodded.

Pushed the door open and left.

The hallway was empty.

He never knew Chen Feng lived so close.

He started running.

He didn't know what he'd say when he found Chen Feng.

But he knew — he had to find him.

He stopped at an intersection to catch his breath.

Looked up —

There it was. The old teahouse.

The lights were still on.

A silhouette stood at the second-floor window.

It was Old Qiu.

He saw Su Chengzhi standing below and waved.

"Come up. He's not here."

"Then where is he?"

"Gone. To the airport."

Su Chengzhi stood on the street, stunned for a moment.

Then he turned and walked back.

A few steps in, he stopped.

Looked up at the light on the second floor.

Then disappeared into the alley.

End of Chapter 4: The Boss of Nancheng