FY - 20

Zhou Yan walked up to Zhao Youjin, knelt on one knee, and held up a bottle of wine: “Boss, shall we open this?”

Zhao Youjin had expensive nails, two centimeters longer than her fingertips. She ran them through her equally expensive hair, then, without warning, slapped Zhou Yan across the face, leaving a long, thin cut.

Everyone present widened their eyes, not daring to breathe too frequently.

Sister Hong was stunned.

When she heard Zhao Youjin wanted Zhou Yan, she thought it was for some other kind of fun, but she never expected it to be purely to pick a fight.

It was also a turbulent time for their Candy. Starting with Fang Nana, then the Bubble Tea incident, followed by the top girl being in bad shape yesterday and getting several kicks from the boss, damaging something in her lower abdomen. Today, Zhou Yan was being provoked by such a clear-minded, aggressive boss...

She didn’t have time to lament that this wasn’t a job for humans; her mind was racing, trying to figure out a countermeasure.

Actually, she really wanted to step forward and help Zhou Yan. Not because she felt sorry for her, but mainly because she couldn’t afford to offend Si Wen. If something happened to Zhou Yan under her watch, it was a sure thing that she would face severe consequences.

But she had just received money from Zhao Youjin. If she spoiled the fun before the party even got started, she wouldn’t have an easy time either.

Everyone said that being a madam was a good job, with plenty of perks. If the girls were well-trained, one person’s success would bring benefits to all, and their own value would also increase.

It was all nonsense.

Had anyone ever seen them get a peaceful night’s sleep? If the girls were good, they were good. But if they met troublesome ones who constantly caused problems for her, she’d be lucky to still be alive, considering her mental fortitude.

She weighed her options for a long time and finally decided not to intervene.

When fire reaches the eyebrows, you deal with what’s in front of you. Prioritize Zhao Youjin for now.

Zhou Yan’s face had been slapped, leaving a cut. It wasn’t deep, but the damaged area was quite extensive; almost half her face was unpresentable.

She hadn’t looked in a mirror, but she could imagine it.

Before entering the room, she had already guessed that things wouldn’t go smoothly. This was just the beginning, and she was already disfigured.

She still turned her face back towards Zhao Youjin: “Boss doesn’t like this wine? Shall I get you another bottle? Burgundy?”

Zhao Youjin narrowed her eyes slightly, somewhat impressed by Zhou Yan’s adaptability. She exchanged a glance with her companion, silently discussing how tough this stubborn woman could be, then said: “How much for a night?”

Zhou Yan’s expression was indifferent: “I’m sorry, I don’t go out.”

Zhao Youjin wasn’t surprised, just smiled: “The only reason you don’t go out is that the offer isn’t big enough. Name your price.”

Zhou Yan looked up: “Five million.”

Zhao Youjin scoffed, and her sisters also burst into sharp laughter.

She said to them: “Did you hear that? A whore, asking for five million. Does she think she’s a virgin or a diamond-studded pussy?”

Zhou Yan was serious. If Zhao Youjin could give her that five million, she’d even be willing to be gang-raped. With five million, she wouldn’t be afraid to leave Si Wen. But if she couldn’t give it, then she was very sorry, no one could touch her.

Zhao Youjin had laughed enough. She took a card from her bag and threw it at Zhou Yan’s face: “Fifty thousand, let my driver have a go.”

She stopped laughing, but her friends didn’t.

The heavily sarcastic laughter, rising and falling, made everyone from Candy present feel a piercing discomfort. Not out of sympathy for Zhou Yan’s plight, but out of reflection on themselves, their own humble selves at the bottom of society, with not an ounce of dignity.

From the moment Zhou Yan agreed to come, she was prepared to endure anything. After all, Zhao Youjin was unlike anyone she had dared to defy before. Her social status was such that even the entire Candy might not be able to contend with it.

As a fallen woman with only one life left, she had a certain self-awareness.

And Si Wen, even if he had immense power, how much convenience could he offer her? What if he weighed the pros and cons and found that offending Zhao Youjin and abandoning Zhou Yan were simply not comparable? Wouldn’t she be doomed then?

She still had a drug-addicted younger brother who needed money for treatment. She couldn’t afford to be defiant, so she would endure.

In the adult world, tantrums are simply not allowed.

Even if it’s to seek justice for oneself.

But does endurance mean there are no bottom lines? She didn’t think so. She could maintain this unperturbed face from beginning to end. She could accept all of Zhao Youjin’s provocations. But fifty thousand, no, absolutely not.

Offending Si Wen for five million, she’d do it. Offending Si Wen for fifty thousand, what the hell was that?

Zhou Yan held the wine. She remembered Si Wen smashing a bottle on the coffee table to get a piece of glass, and she, too, smashed the wine bottle on the coffee table.

Zhao Youjin’s mockery froze on her face, her expression gradually turning serious.

Everyone else’s heart rate began to quicken. Sister Hong’s brows furrowed even tighter, every nerve tensed.

Zhou Yan picked up the largest shard and held it to her throat: “I said, five million, we can talk. If you insist on fifty thousand for a night, I’ll give you a corpse and a life sentence.”

Zhao Youjin’s lips twitched, and she narrowed her eyes.

She truly was watertight. She began to think that this woman wasn’t as vulgar as she seemed.

The two stood in a standoff, neither compromising. After a few minutes of this, Si Wen kicked the door open.

He saw Zhou Yan threatening Zhao Youjin with her life and narrowed his eyes.

It was his day off today; did the people at Candy not know he would come?

Or had Zhao Youjin given them such great benefits that they dared to offend him?

Allowing Zhou Yan to be insulted by others—they must be tired of living.

After yesterday’s scene, he knew Zhao Youjin wouldn’t be able to resist finding him. He also thought she would first come to check out what kind of woman Zhou Yan was, but he assumed Candy would at least show some consideration for Zhou Yan being his person, and protect her a little. He hadn’t expected that he had still overestimated how fragile human nature was in the face of money.

Upon entering, he heard someone discussing how Zhou Yan had been slapped by Zhao Youjin, and he became agitated, his face as dark and cold as a lakebed.

Kicking open the private room door meant he had abandoned all his plans for Zhao Youjin.

He had given her enough face, but she didn’t want it.

Zhao Youjin saw Si Wen. He was wearing a suit, gone was yesterday’s casualness, replaced by formality, yet the traces of ruthlessness remained. The calm on her face had already crumbled. She shifted her bottom, unconsciously moving to the side.

Why did he come so fast?

Zhou Yan didn’t look back; she knew it was Si Wen.

Under everyone’s gaze, Si Wen steadily walked up to Zhou Yan, glanced at her face, took the glass shard from her hand, and touched her hand. The cold touch made his expression even sharper.

He played with the glass shard in his hand: “How much did Ms. Zhao spend to book this place?”

Zhao Youjin didn’t speak, just stared at him.

Sister Hong spoke for her: “Six hundred thousand.”

Si Wen nodded and said, “Put twelve hundred thousand on my account.”

Sister Hong gasped, as did the others, their hair standing on end.

Si Wen hadn’t finished: “This place, it belongs to me now, right?”

Sister Hong nodded so much her neck ached: “Yes, it’s yours, it’s yours. It’s your place now.”

In a place of entertainment, there were no rules; whoever paid more was the boss, whoever was more powerful.

Si Wen’s gaze was piercing, stinging Zhao Youjin, making her shiver.

She just realized she had messed up. Mainly, she couldn’t believe she would be inferior to a prostitute, so she treated Zhou Yan like every other woman who had ever threatened her.

Si Wen sat down. Zhao Youjin was within his reach.

She had nowhere to hide, and panic seized her whole body.

Si Wen’s hand, which had been playing with the glass shard, suddenly stopped. With a swift, clean slash, a gash immediately appeared on Zhao Youjin’s face, much more severe than the one on Zhou Yan’s.

Zhao Youjin didn’t react immediately. A burning pain spread across her face, and then she shrieked, falling from the booth onto the floor, rolling around, protecting her face with her hands, yet daring not to get too close.

She was afraid of touching the wound.

Her sisters had all become mute, trying their best to appear insignificant in front of Si Wen.

Sister Hong clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes bloodshot. The scene before them was more heart-stopping than a ghost.

Among the remaining girls, some had experienced Si Wen publicly asserting his dominance over Zhou Yan last time, thinking they could endure this scene, but their legs still went weak, and they collapsed onto the floor. Urine trickled down their black stockings.

Si Wen walked up to Zhao Youjin, stepping on her face.

Zhao Youjin’s outfit, combined with her persona, was normally so unattainable, but under Si Wen’s foot, everything seemed so ill-fated. This move, driven by jealousy, had destroyed her.

Si Wen pressed down with his foot, bending at the waist: “Beating a dog to insult its master. Are you trying to warn me about something?”

Zhao Youjin found it difficult even to shake her head in denial; her open mouth could only emit screams.

“What made you think that my lenient handling of your eavesdropping meant you could meddle with me?” Si Wen withdrew his foot, then squatted down, the sharp tip of the glass shard nearing her eye: “What gave you that illusion?”

Zhao Youjin watched the blood-stained glass shard get closer and closer to her, frantically kicking her legs and recoiling backward.

There was no distance left between the glass shard and her eyeball.

Zhao Youjin twisted her body, embraced Si Wen’s thigh: “I was wrong, I was wrong! I was wrong! It was my mistake!”

Si Wen kicked her away, throwing the glass shard onto her face: “Get out!”

Zhao Youjin ran out as if fleeing for her life, not looking where she was going. She tripped over a wine bottle but didn’t stop, scrambling and crawling, desperate to leave the place quickly.

Her sisters saw her leave and didn’t dare to stay either, tucking their tails and leaving in line.

Sister Hong, seeing that Si Wen was still fuming and seemed to have something to say to Zhou Yan, shooed away all the other personnel.

She was the last to leave, quietly closing the door behind them.

Si Wen had a headache. He pulled off his tie and leaned back, his face upturned, breathing growing heavier. His drug craving was acting up.

Zhou Yan stood up, tore open a disinfectant wipe, and walked over, wanting to wipe his face.

Si Wen didn’t allow her to approach. Before she even reached him, he had already told her to get away.

Zhou Yan’s reaction was calm. She returned to the changing room, took out medicine from her bag, and, despite his fierce gaze, fed it to him.

After watching him finish the medicine, Zhou Yan turned to walk out.

Si Wen reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back and seizing her by the throat. There was a fierce beast in his eyes, a desire to tear her apart and devour her that was slowly consuming his rationality.

No, he hadn’t been rational since he walked in.

Zhou Yan’s forehead veins bulged from being choked, her face flushing then paling, before her eyes rolled back into her head.

Si Wen choked her, lifted her up, and gritted his teeth: “You are mine! No one has the right to touch you! Not even you! If it happens again! If you let someone else touch you! I’ll choke you to death!”

Zhou Yan’s eyes rolled back several times. The sensation of suffocation had already passed through her mind once. A few more seconds, and she would have died.

This wasn’t the cruelest Si Wen had been to her, yet like every other time, she didn’t beg for mercy.

When she thought she was about to die, she didn’t think about Zhou Siyuan, nor about the meaning of her existence in this world. Her mind was filled only with Si Wen. Only this man who held her life and death in his hands.

Tears streamed down the corners of her eyes, seeping into his palm. Why? Why him?

Si Wen’s hand felt burned. His fingers loosened, and he recoiled belatedly.

Zhou Yan’s life was saved, but her soul seemed to have flown away. After Si Wen released her, she fell straight onto the coffee table with a heavy thud. Blood flowed from her ear, dripping onto the coffee table with a constant patter.

Si Wen looked at his hand, backing away until he could retreat no further, then collapsed onto the booth.

The private room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The sound of Zhou Yan’s blood dripping echoed loudly, each drop like a knife piercing his heart, causing him pain with every breath, as if his internal organs were tearing apart.

He reached out for her with trembling hands, barely touching her before recoiling, repeating this several times before he finally picked her up and ran out.

People of virtue are protected by deities, and evil spirits clear their path. He had no such protection, yet he was also entangled with malevolent spirits, and those spirits still dared not block his way.