FY - 18

Fangma Casino, a legitimate casino in Qizhou.

Just like Macau, a city built on gambling, or Ruili, a sacred place for jade gambling. In a mixed city like Qizhou, where prostitution and drug dealing were once openly transparent, casinos flaunting their doors wide open were not uncommon.

Si Wen stepped out of the car, dressed in a white deep V cupro silk top, grey cropped trousers, black distressed leather shoes, and holding an Italian pure handmade luxury scepter with a golden, diamond-studded eagle head handle.

He rarely dressed like this; it was too unconventional. He considered himself a relatively proper person.

His bodyguards stood a meter behind him, legs spread, standing rigidly.

The casino’s high signboard was embedded with LEDs, casting bizarre lights on these people, yet it only confirmed their excellent professionalism—motionless, expressionless.

Si Wen walked inside, his scepter clashing with his footsteps, subtly exuding a terrifying aura.

The chip runner had been waiting for a long time. Upon seeing Si Wen, he immediately bowed and greeted him obsequiously: “Mr. Si! You’re finally here!”

Si Wen, as he understood himself, was too conventional, so he could maintain a calm demeanor towards anyone, showing no joy or sorrow, and revealing nothing of his thoughts. His gaze swept over the face of the person in front of him.

He walked towards the largest gambling table in the hall.

His subordinates exchanged chips for him, a hundred and twenty thousand.

The female cowboy dealer’s eyes lit up when she saw Si Wen. She could instantly discern souls of wealth and nobility.

A new gambling game began. Some gamblers, who had lost everything down to their underwear, walked out the door with pale faces, as if their souls had been snatched. Others, encouraged by the house, had borrowed money from the casino and sat back down at the table.

Si Wen sat down, facing the seasoned blackjack dealer. He was probably the only person in this gambling session who remained composed. His casualness even caught the attention of the duty manager.

The second card was dealt at the gambling table. Si Wen got blackjack, and the dealer paid out 1.5 times the bet, causing an uproar throughout the room.

The crowd watching this gambling session grew, easily attracting gamblers from the private rooms upstairs.

Zhao Youjin rested her arm on the railing of the third floor, looking at the handsome figure in the lobby downstairs. She took a puff of her lady’s cigarette, exhaled, and let her eyes drift down through the smoke to his deep V neckline, asking the person beside her: “Who is that?”

“You don’t even know him? And you’ve worked in the pharmaceutical industry in Qizhou for so many years.”

Zhao Youjin didn’t know many people. In business, she didn’t need to remember who was who. As long as she had a chest that cost over six hundred thousand to enhance, there was no deal she couldn’t close. It came naturally, without exception.

“That’s Si Wen, the boss of Dongsheng Pharmaceutical.”

So that was Si Wen. Zhao Youjin finished the last bit of her cigarette, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

“He’s extremely restrained and has never left any weakness in anyone’s hands, except for having kept a mistress. But this mistress is also very disciplined, watertight; it’s truly difficult to control Si Wen through her.”

Zhao Youjin’s eyes were fixed on Si Wen. From this angle, looking at that face, she suddenly felt a perverse pleasure.

The person beside her saw through her thoughts: “Don’t even think about it; he can kill you.”

Zhao Youjin smiled brightly: “If he can’t kill me, then he’s incompetent.”

The person beside her rolled their eyes: “When I say kill you, I don’t mean in bed. Do you know the rumors? How many lives he has on his hands? But have you ever heard of the government or agencies investigating him?”

Zhao Youjin ignored all that. She only cared that this man, at this moment, had caught her attention.

The person beside her was still talking, but Zhao Youjin, swaying with the figure of a thirty-year-old, had already stepped onto the spiral staircase, descending slowly and steadily.

By the time he finished speaking, the person next to him was gone. He looked downstairs and saw her already standing among the crowd.

Si Wen only won the first hand against the dealer; afterwards, he kept losing, already down two hundred thousand. Yet, he remained unperturbed, not even a frown creasing his brow, displaying a gambler’s composure to its critical limit.

At the end of this round, the dealer smiled sweetly at him: “Sir, perhaps you’d like to try the dice.”

Si Wen smiled faintly, using the acting skills Zhou Yan was most proficient at in front of him. Indeed, no one could tell that he wasn’t truly invested.

As he turned, Zhao Youjin stood behind him, holding a glass of white wine in her right hand, her eyes full of allure. Her left hand was gently cupped, resting on her right elbow, her red lips slightly parted: “Mr. Si, I’ve opened a private game upstairs. Would you care to join?”

Si Wen politely declined: “Thank you. I’m just casually playing.”

Zhao Youjin didn’t press, only showing regret: “That’s truly a shame.”

Si Wen nodded slightly, walked past her, and headed to the bar, ordering a glass of plain water. He sat halfway on a high stool, one leg bent, one leg straight, offering Zhao Youjin’s direction a side profile.

He leaned on his scepter, his wrist bones prominent, complementing his distinct metacarpals and long fingers—just two words: deadly.

Zhao Youjin watched him, finishing her white wine, her throat unconsciously swallowing twice.

Damn it! He’s truly a cheat! This man!

Given her status, she couldn’t be too eager. She was about to go upstairs, but as she turned, she saw a waiter pouring a small vial of liquid into Si Wen’s water. This was asking for trouble.

Her steps towards the stairs changed direction, and she pressed down on Si Wen’s wrist as he was lifting the glass. The touch made her instantly wet...

Si Wen looked up at her.

Zhao Youjin’s eyelids lowered as she gazed at the water glass in his hand: “There’s something wrong with this water.”

The waiter who had just handed Si Wen the water immediately turned and ran.

Si Wen frowned and looked over.

His bodyguards, well-trained, rushed forward and apprehended the man.

Zhao Youjin then withdrew her hand.

The manager stepped forward to inquire about the situation, respectfully asking Si Wen: “Mr. Si, has something happened?”

Si Wen never asked others for help with things he could handle himself, and as for things he couldn’t... he hadn’t encountered any yet. He declined the manager’s goodwill, still holding the glass of plain water, and walked out.

His bodyguards, escorting the waiter, followed.

Zhao Youjin didn’t even get a chance to show her face in this scene, and surprisingly, the usually high-profile woman didn’t mind. However, she was still inexplicably drawn to follow them out. She wanted to see how Si Wen would deal with this person.

Upon reaching the alley to the left of the casino, Si Wen shook the water in his hand: “Did you want me unconscious? Or dead?”

The waiter clenched his jaw, not saying a word, his face tightening and turning purple.

Si Wen saw that he had a tough demeanor, lightly tossed his scepter, gripping the handle instead of leaning on it, and swung it in a semicircle, striking the waiter’s chin, sending him sprawling backward, his head hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Zhao Youjin, hiding by the side door, gasped and covered her mouth as she saw the waiter’s chin bleeding profusely and blood starting to trickle from the back of his head.

So ruthless.

The waiter remained silent. Si Wen lost his patience and handed the glass of water to his bodyguard.

The bodyguard took it and forced the waiter to drink it. The waiter thrashed his legs, struggling, his face contorting into a horrifying shape.

Less than half a minute after the water was poured down, he clutched his throat with both hands, rolling on the ground and letting out a demonic scream. His face, illuminated by the fluorescent streetlights, changed from red to white. This lasted for over a minute before he stopped moving.

The bodyguard kicked his arm; it was limp like a dead man’s. He turned to Si Wen and asked, “Sir, should we investigate the casino?”

Si Wen leaned on his scepter, his gaze casual and lingering: “No need.”

Having said that, he turned and walked towards Zhao Youjin, who had been secretly watching, stopping in front of her: “Seen enough?”

Zhao Youjin showed no sign of being caught in an embarrassing situation, laughing heartily: “Should I tell the truth? Not yet.”

Si Wen was clear about favors and grudges. He told her: “Thank you for speaking up. But eavesdropping is truly unethical and beneath your stature as Qizhou’s pharmaceutical expert, Ms. Zhao.”

Zhao Youjin chuckled twice again, her eyelids slightly narrowing her eyes: “I should have met you sooner.”

She thought Si Wen would say, “It’s not too late now,” but he didn’t. He didn’t even give her any extra expression, just turned and left.

Zhao Youjin was already overflowing below.

The urgent desire to possess this man filled her mind.

________________________________________

Si Wen had achieved his purpose at Fangma as if completing a task, and then headed back home.

As he was nearing his apartment, a headache made him lose control. He told his driver to change course and went to Zhou Yan’s apartment complex.

This time, he went up.

Standing at Zhou Yan’s door, he didn’t knock but called her instead.

Zhou Yan had just coaxed Zhou Siyuan to sleep when she received the call. Seeing the words “Old Bastard” on the screen, she raised an eyebrow.

Had he dialed by mistake? Shouldn’t he be working at this hour? Did he get hard in the middle of work?

She answered, guessing, and heard his familiar voice: “Open the door.”

“Open what door?” was her unconscious reaction.

Si Wen: “I’m outside the door.”

Zhou Yan looked suspicious. She walked to the door and opened it. Only when she saw Si Wen’s eyes through the security door did she dare to believe it was really him.

When she opened the door, Si Wen enveloped her entirely, covering Zhou Yan, his chin resting on her shoulder, as if he had run a marathon, utterly exhausted, unable to move.

Zhou Yan’s delicate frame, like a lamb’s, couldn’t withstand Si Wen, the fierce beast. She pushed him: “I’ll help you to the sofa.”

Si Wen acted as if he hadn’t heard, just holding Zhou Yan like that.

Zhou Yan thought he was waiting for her to make a move, and cleverly said, “I’ll give you a blowjob on the sofa.”

Si Wen got up from her, his face looking worse than before: “Is making love the only reason I come to you?”

It’s always been like that. Zhou Yan looked at him, too earnestly: “Isn’t it?”

Si Wen raised his hand, as if he would slap her face the next second, leaving a bloody imprint. But he slowly closed his hand, lowered it, and walked past her into the apartment.

Zhou Yan, in a moment of urgency, closed her eyes, but no slap from Si Wen came. When she opened her eyes, he was already lying on the sofa.

She didn’t ask what was wrong with him, just poured him a glass of water and brought it to him.

Si Wen opened his eyes, saw a glass of water, and also saw the hand holding the glass. He remembered that not long ago, another woman’s hand had reached out to her, covering his wrist. He hadn’t looked closely, but no hand, not even Zhou Yan’s, could excite him like this.

Zhou Yan saw he had opened his eyes and asked, “Want some water?”

Si Wen didn’t answer. He grabbed her wrist, pulled her into his arms, and the water glass wasn’t held steadily; half of its contents spilled onto his chest.

Zhou Yan was pulled down to lie on top of him, their chests touching, and the thin fabric of her top immediately became soaked.

Si Wen didn’t let go; he just held her, not caring if she had trouble breathing while pressed against him. He just held her.

Zhou Yan nearly suffocated.

She whispered “change position” several times in his ear before finally getting the chance to shift inside him. Lying on him this way, there was no longer the oppressive discomfort pressing on her lungs.

But Si Wen still didn’t let go. He held her tightly.