Moth Chasing the Sun 8

Suspecting that her companion might be in a low mood, Lu Mingqiu had the maid prepare a bowl of mango pomelo sago, which was brought to the table at the end of breakfast.

"Eat up," she said.

Yan Xianchuan diligently maintained her aloof demeanor, but inside, her heart was leaping at the unexpected dessert.

—As expected, staying aloof was the right move!

So, with a blank expression, she meticulously and seriously finished the mango pomelo sago down to the last drop.

The corner of her mouth secretly curled up a millimeter.

After breakfast, it was time for business.

She was representing the Yan Family in business negotiations, so she couldn't go into the meeting knowing nothing about the other party. No matter who she had been before, the current Yan Xianchuan represented the face of the Yan Family; any misstep was unacceptable.

So Xie Five had sent her all the information about the Black Tiger Gang for her to review.

The leader of the Black Tiger Gang was named Qian Hu—a common name, but his story was anything but.

Qian Hu had originally been just a drifter and petty thug, with an alcoholic father and a mother who sold cheap flesh. His father drank heavily and used drugs, squandering all the family's money, and when he was high and agitated, he would beat people.

But it wasn't that he was completely out of his senses; he knew the family's money came from his woman selling her body, so he never hit her face. He handled her with care. But where to vent that restless rage? Eventually, the drunkard's eyes fell on his own son.

Qian Hu was not a coward. When he was young, he used his nimble body to run circles around his father, keeping him from catching hold of him. When he got older and stronger, he fought back.

He was bold but cautious, making friends in the underworld and begging them to teach him some self-defense moves.

How could a body hollowed out by alcohol and drugs compete with the healthy, growing body of a youth?

Qian Hu easily beat his father to death, dragged him into a ditch, and made it look like he had drowned in a drunken stupor.

Everyone took it as an accident.

He joined the Coiled Serpent Gang, starting as a low-level thug. Because he fought with reckless abandon, always charging to the front, and possessed a certain ruthlessness, he quickly rose through the ranks, becoming a squad leader and then slowly advancing to deputy hall master.

The leader of the Coiled Serpent Gang appreciated him, and seeing that he was illiterate, he took special care to urge him to study and gain knowledge. He saw in this young man ambition and a refusal to give in.

A man who only knew how to fight would never go as far as one who had knowledge and a sharp mind.

Once, when the leader was ambushed while out, Qian Hu risked his life to save him, nearly dying, and ended up with several artificial ribs and a damaged hand.

So the leader promoted him, bringing the young man close as a trusted confidant.

And the leader's daughter fell for this handsome, naturally cheerful man who was so ferocious in fights, enchanted by his unique aura.

In the end, Qian Hu married the leader's daughter and became family. He still seemed just as loyal—if he hadn't plotted to kill his father-in-law to seize power himself.

Once he took over the Coiled Serpent Gang, he renamed it, replaced all the hall masters with his own trusted men, and buried the original leader's daughter, his first wife, alongside her father in a grave he personally chose.

Every year on the anniversary of their deaths, he would go and lay two bouquets of flowers.

The gang members would sigh, saying, "The boss is truly sentimental!"

Qian Hu was a formidable figure, rising from an illiterate nobody at the bottom to the master of a whole gang. The effort, the schemes, the blood on his hands—anyone would be awed by it.

He was a man born without a heart.

A machine driven by an innate lust for power.

After becoming the head of the Black Tiger Gang, he wasn't satisfied. He kept expanding, strengthening the gang, eventually making it the largest in Dingyang City, but he didn't stop there—he extended his reach into the surrounding areas.

His ambition, like his swollen desires, had no end.

If his life story were made into a movie, it would be an epic of twists and turns, a spectacular masterpiece.

The Splendid Nightless City was also part of the Black Tiger Gang's holdings. Originally just a barely-alive nightclub, after Qian Hu took over, it slowly began to flourish. Now it was the largest entertainment venue in Dingyang City—a place of pleasure, a den of dissipation.

Whatever you could imagine, they had it here.

Countless people had become rich overnight or gone bankrupt in this place; the blood and tears it consumed dissolved into money, becoming the perfect testament to "deserved punishment" and "insatiable greed."

As soon as Yan Xianchuan got out of the car, the flashing neon lights nearly dazzled her eyes.

The light pollution here was at least ten times worse than any other place. Those blues, purples, seductive pinks, and bright yellows vied to shine brilliantly, with an attitude determined to blind everyone, forcing people to shield their eyes.

Bad news: her eyes were artificial, with much stronger light reception than natural eyes.

Good news: they were also artificial, so no matter how blinding, they wouldn't go blind.

The valet took the keys and drove the car away to park it.

Yan Xianchuan, along with the two brothers Xie Five and Xie Seven, walked through the opulent lobby into the Nightless City.

The first and second floors were a casino, with gambling tables of various sizes offering different games.

Yan Xianchuan strolled along, observing but not playing—she didn't know any of them. Roulette, dice, cards; she only knew this was called poker and knew a few casual, household games. As for the rules of gambling, she had no idea at all.

Gambling, drugs, alcohol, guns—none of these were good things. Her parents had drummed it into her not to touch them.

Besides, she had no interest in things that rotted the mind.

She could drink a little, but she'd never been drunk; only after leaving her parents, she'd occasionally have a few glasses, usually low-alcohol drinks like cocktails.

The third floor was the bar district, where many pleasure dolls worked, drinking and entertaining. They wore identical silver wristbands stamped with a tiger's head to mark their identity.

When there were no guests, they either hung around the bar in twos or threes, or idly wandered with drinks, looking for targets, or went down to the first floor to attend to newbie-looking customers, showing them around and earning tips.

The dolls who worked here had the backing of the Black Tiger Gang, so they lived comfortably, with no one causing them trouble, and even got a base wage.

They earned more than the average third-class citizen.

After all, the people who came here to spend had money to burn—rich and powerful—and the tips that slipped through their fingers were staggering amounts.

Past the floor of wine and indulgence, the fourth floor was a beauty services venue. High society's pursuit of beauty and perfection was obsessive.

The values transmitted from the top-tier families shaped them, molding their personalities invisibly.

A person's appearance was innate and unchangeable, but the criteria for beauty went beyond that. Skin condition, eyes, lips, physique—all could be altered.

Even two people who looked the same, one with a lively spirit and the other listless, would be judged differently; the former would be considered more beautiful.

That's why the beauty industry was so lucrative—all genders stepped into the trap of a perfect image. It didn't make money from the poor; it only siphoned the blood of the rich.

In a private room on the fifth floor, Yan Xianchuan met Qian Hu.

The appointment was for ten, but she'd arrived at nine-thirty, partly out of curiosity to see what the famed Nightless City was really like.

She'd arrived early without notifying him, so when a subordinate led her to him, the shock on his face was hard to hide. Hastily, he put down his glass and stood up, walking to the door to greet her.

"Miss Yan, when did you arrive? I had no idea—truly sorry, my apologies."

His tone was earnest, proper, as if he really didn't know. But that was unlikely.

This was Black Tiger Gang territory, and Xie Five was a well-known face in Dingyang City. Even if the henchmen didn't recognize Yan Xianchuan, wouldn't they recognize Xie Five?

Yan Xianchuan was willing to bet that someone had informed Qian Hu the moment they arrived, but he hadn't come to greet her. Not because he was high-and-mighty, but because he saw that Yan Xianchuan wanted to look around and hadn't told him, obviously preferring to check things out on her own.

If he came down to interrupt her, wouldn't that ruin her mood?

So, when she reached the fifth floor and was ready for the meeting, he came to welcome her, with an eager attitude, to show he valued this moment.

For an important meeting, arriving early or late had different implications.

If you were in the weaker position, you had to come early to show politeness and respect.

If you were the stronger party, whether early or late didn't matter. Arriving early was called "being gracious," not fear; arriving late was "showing status," not provocation. There was always an explanation.

Yan Xianchuan herself wasn't important, but she represented the Yan Family, so she naturally held the strong position.

Qian Hu led her back into the private room, beaming.

He wore a silver-gray suit, with a well-proportioned figure and the hint of muscle lines beneath his shirt. His black hair was combed back immaculately, his eyes large and bright, his chin smooth and clean-shaven, his skin a healthy honey tone, and he flashed a hearty smile—a man in his early thirties, but he still carried a boyish innocence and frankness.

But anyone who looked at his face and believed he was an open book was a complete fool.

Yan Xianchuan smiled back, "I didn't announce my arrival; you can't blame yourself for that, Boss Qian."

Right, Qian Hu had a particular quirk—he insisted on being called "Boss," not "gang boss."

And Yan Xianchuan wasn't here to cause trouble, so there was no need to make an issue of the title.

Settling back into the soft sofa, they exchanged small talk, making casual pleasantries.

Qian Hu observed this new young master. She seemed fairly amiable, easy to talk to.

So he turned to business.

"The matter with the Lin family," he said with a sigh, "it was so sudden. A good soul, gone in an accident—truly, life is unpredictable."

Yan Xianchuan replied calmly, "Indeed it is."

"To be honest with you," Qian Hu said, feigning distress, "we've been doing business with your family for a long time, and we always got our goods from here. But not long ago, Yan Wanzhi told us he was transferring the order to the Lin family. With the Lin family gone, that's fine on its own, but the goods that were promised have been delayed by several days."

"The loss so far isn't big, but how do we proceed from here? I'd like to ask if you have a plan."

Yan Xianchuan remained unhurried: "The business that was originally given to the Lin family will, of course, return to us. As for the recent losses, there will be some compensation. As for the rest…"

She leaned back and gave a signal to the person beside her. "Xie Five, you explain."

Xie Five stepped forward and began to negotiate the specifics.

The Yan Family had started as arms dealers, so their quality control was impeccable, and their relationship with the Black Tiger Gang went back a long way. Even when it was the Coiled Serpent Gang, they had bought weapons from the Yans.

As for the Lin family, they had wanted to get into this lucrative business, but with the mountain of a parent company above them, they had never been able to break through; they could only sell cheap goods to small-time thugs.

They had hoped to use their daughter to ride on the Yan family's coattails, but instead, they had stepped wrong and lost their lives.

If they had anyone to blame, it was themselves for overestimating Yan Wanzhi's importance and expecting the Yans to be merciful.

Qian Hu's expansionist appetite meant his demand for weapons was growing daily, and he had wanted to increase his order and, using this opportunity, ask for a discount.

After all, Yan Xianchuan seemed pretty easygoing.

But to his surprise, whenever he tried to her, mentioning his difficulties and leveraging their long-standing trade, she never bit.

When their eyes met, she just smiled faintly and let Xie Five do all the talking.

Xie Five was an old hand—he looked young, but his words and emotional intelligence were mature, and with Xie Seven at his side giving signals, he gave no quarter.

But in business, harmony brings wealth, so in the end, he offered a free batch of a dozen submachine guns, as a token for their long-standing customer relationship.

Something was better than nothing, and Qian Hu couldn't find a better supplier than the Yans.

Once the negotiations were done, Xie Five stepped back, the unseen hero.

After finishing business, to build a closer relationship, they had to talk about other things. And what better place than the Splendid Nightless City?

Qian Hu was confident in the pleasure palace he had built, so he said, "Miss Yan, want to go down and try your luck? I've got everything here."

Yan Xianchuan politely declined, "I'd rather not touch those; I don't know how."

Qian Hu chuckled, "That's no problem. I'll have some people keep you company and explain the rules."

With that, he beckoned behind him, and a subordinate in a black suit, getting the hint, was about to leave and fetch some people.

Yan Xianchuan frowned, about to speak, when the door suddenly opened. A burly thug walked in, looking both helpless and irritated, and leaned in to whisper a few words in Qian Hu's ear.

Qian Hu raised an eyebrow. "Just throw him out."

He looked at Yan Xianchuan with curiosity and explained, "It's nothing you need to hide. There's a troublemaker downstairs looking for me. He's something of a loyal man of principle, and I have the utmost respect for those who value loyalty and brotherhood, so I've told my men not to hurt him, just to kick him out. It's not the first time he's come."

"His name is Tan Yiyuan, a bounty hunter with some reputation. He had a grudge against the Black Claw Gang, and he actually went and destroyed them." Qian Hu's tone carried a hint of admiration. "But the Black Claw Gang was one of my subordinate gangs, and having one man destroy it, I need to make a point, or else word on the street might spread that the Black Tiger Gang is made of mud, and anyone can stomp on it."

In the same tone one might use to discuss the weather, Qian Hu said, "So I sent men to kill his wife and child. An omega, a stumbling block—he could have done great things, but his family held him back. I helped him eliminate his weakness, you could say."

"An eye for an eye; that should have settled it. But he wouldn't drop it, and he keeps coming here to cause trouble. I've thought about inviting him to join the gang, but he won't appreciate it."

Yan Xianchuan's brow furrowed slightly. "Tan Yiyuan from Changqing City?"

Qian Hu's eyes widened in surprise. "That's him. You know him, Miss Yan?"

Yan Xianchuan nodded. "We're acquainted."

Qian Hu was delighted. "Ah, that's fate! Perfect." He gestured to his subordinate. "Bring Tan Yiyuan up."

"Since he's an acquaintance of yours, I have a small request: I'd like to ask you to mediate between us. I killed his family to protect the honor of the Black Tiger Gang—I have no personal grudge against him. On the contrary, I think highly of him."

"Rather than make enemies, it's better to reconcile. He keeps coming to disrupt my business, and we always let him go without a scratch. My men are starting to complain, and I can't keep this up forever."

Yan Xianchuan cast a sidelong glance at him. She always said she had thick skin, but compared to these people, hers was practically paper-thin.

What kind of logic was this—you kill someone's wife and child, and they should be grateful to you?

Tan Yiyuan was escorted in by two men, still struggling. He looked like a completely different person, so changed that Yan Xianchuan was taken aback.

Before, Tan Yiyuan, though weary, had still seemed whole, and when he was with his wife and daughter, he softened entirely.

After taking his revenge, he had shaken off his gloom, seemingly reborn, and the joy was unmistakable.

Now, he was as thin as a skeleton, his cheeks sunk deep, like skin stretched over bone, his eyes sunken in their sockets, burning with the flames of hatred and a desperate, all-in resentment.

He was slovenly too, his clothes stained and dirty, his hair and beard a wild mess—more disheveled than the homeless sleeping on the streets.

He moved his eyes around, about to curse at Qian Hu, when he caught sight of a familiar face and blurted out in shock, "You… you?"

His benefactor was as she always had been, but he was no longer what he once was.

"I'm here to discuss business with Boss Qian," Yan Xianchuan said. "Let him go."

Qian Hu gave a nod, and the two thugs released his arms. Tan Yiyuan stumbled a couple of steps.

"We are indeed old acquaintances," Yan Xianchuan said. "Boss Qian, I'll take the man with me. I'll have a talk with him."

Since she had asked, Qian Hu went along. "In that case, I'll grant Miss Yan this favor." He turned to the man standing there, his expression complicated. "Tan Yiyuan, think it through. If I really wanted you dead, you'd have been killed the first time you came here. I value talent, which is why I've been lenient. But you keep provoking me—you have to know when to stop."

"This is a gang, not a church. I've been patient long enough. Even Bodhisattva has a temper, let alone me."

Qian Hu said coldly, "Let's hope there's no next time."

"Boss Qian, calm down," Yan Xianchuan said. "Anger is bad for the liver."

"It's a reunion of old friends, so we won't linger here. Boss Qian doesn't need to see us off; I'll show myself out."

Qian Hu had no choice but to see them to the door of the private room. He said with a smile, "Miss Yan, take care. When you'd like to come again, just let me know, and I'll make sure you have a good time."

Yan Xianchuan gave a slight wave of her hand.

The valet drove the car around in time and, with eager courtesy, opened the door for her. Yan Xianchuan tilted her chin toward the back seat for Tan Yiyuan to get in, then said to Xie Five and Xie Seven, "You two can find your own way back, right?"

It sounded like a question, but it was really a command.

Xie Five had no choice but to say, "Safe travels."

Yan Xianchuan took the driver's seat and pulled up the navigation. "This is my first time driving on the road, so buckle up."

The car pulled out of the Splendid Nightless City, and she spoke again. "So, do you want to tell me what happened?"

Tan Yiyuan sat in the back, feeling both absurd and lost.

He first asked the question that mattered most. "Who are you, really?"

Seeing his former savior sitting with his current enemy had nearly broken him. In that moment, his mind, full of extreme emotions, conjured all sorts of dark imaginings.

None of them good.

Yan Xianchuan didn't hide the truth. "I'm from the Yan family, the conglomerate. When I met you before, I wasn't trying to hide my identity—I just thought it wasn't relevant."

When she'd left Changqing City without saying goodbye back then, she'd felt it wasn't important either. She had helped Tan Yiyuan on a whim, not expecting anything in return. When he finally reached out to her, she had just said she'd already left.

They hadn't spoken since.

But when the variety show aired, Tan Yiyuan saw the program and realized Yan Xianchuan's status must be extraordinary, far above his own, so he had kept his gratitude quietly to himself, not daring to reach out.

Since getting to know Lu Mingqiu, though, Yan Xianchuan had genuinely changed. Seeing Tan Yiyuan again stirred a strange feeling, and she was more than willing to help him once more.

And if she helped him, Lu Mingqiu would likely be happy about it too, wouldn't she?

She continued, "The Yan family deals in arms, and Qian Hu is a client. I arrived in Dingyang City a few days ago to handle this side of the business."

Not connected with the Black Tiger Gang... Tan Yiyuan's tightly wound heart finally settled, and his body relaxed, but it only made him look even more defeated.

His voice was hoarse. "Shuangshuang and Xiaoxiao, they're both dead. I just went out to buy lunch, and when I came back, I found them on the ground, blood everywhere, staining Xiaoxiao's favorite dress..."

Tan Yiyuan's gaze went distant, like he might cry, but his eyes were dry. No tears came—maybe they had long since dried up.

"They were gunshot wounds. Who could they have crossed in this world? It had to be aimed at me."

His voice was lighter than the morning mist. "I searched for a long time, asked so many people. Either they didn't know, or they knew but wouldn't tell me. Finally, the owner of the Resurrection Hotel, out of pity, secretly told me it was the Black Tiger Gang."

"She meant well, wanted me to back off. Because the Black Tiger Gang—ha... Am I afraid of death? Without them, what's the difference between me living and dead?"

"Qian Hu, that sanctimonious beast, actually wanted me to join his disgusting gang. Making me go into the nest of my enemies, work for him. How laughable."

As he spoke, he started to laugh again, jumbled and unhinged, as if half-crazed.

Yan Xianchuan didn't offer empty platitudes like "rest in peace." She wasn't Tan Yiyuan and couldn't feel even a fraction of his pain. Any words of comfort would be like feather-light, self-indulgent sympathy—just going through the motions.

As if when someone shares their grief, the listener is obligated to offer solace, and the mourner is supposed to immediately move on.

Isn't that its own kind of emotional blackmail?

"You'll never kill Qian Hu like this," Yan Xianchuan said outright, cutting through his spiral. "You're just seeking death."

He didn't even have a gun on him.