Lu Shangjin slammed the door and left, sitting in his car chain-smoking one cigarette after another until the buzzing in his temples was completely numbed by nicotine.
Yan Yi’s terrified, pleading expression surfaced in his mind again.
Pressing a hand to his chest, Lu Shangjin leaned over the steering wheel, enduring the violent spasms of his heart. His legs felt cold and numb—he could barely feel anything even when pressing the gas pedal.
This was probably the most intense rage he had ever experienced in his life.
For the next two days, he stayed overnight at the company and didn’t go home.
Most of the contracts piled on his desk had been signed, except for a stack from Jiu’an Hongye. Lu Shangjin had no mood to even glance at them and simply left them untouched.
At first, Hongye’s vice president called to ask about it, but after sensing something was off, he didn’t dare follow up.
After a meeting ended, Xia Pingtian walked out of the conference room, his face dark as charcoal.
What the hell was Lu Shangjin doing? Was he targeting Hongye Xia Group? Several contracts were about to expire, yet there was still no movement—what was he playing at?
That kid his father left behind was doomed anyway—multiple organ failure, beyond saving. What, did he think he was some emperor trying to save the crown prince? Did he really expect Hongye Xia Group to go down with him?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Unable to hold back, he called Lu Shangjin. If he didn’t pick up this time, Xia Pingtian was ready to have the driver take him straight to Changhui.
It rang ten times before Lu Shangjin finally answered.
Suppressing his anger, Xia Pingtian spoke calmly, asking a few questions.
Lu Shangjin replied coolly, “Did you help your brother get in touch with Yan Yi?”
“Huh? No.” Xia Pingtian choked slightly. He had indeed helped Xia Jingtian look into things, but he shouldn’t have done anything beyond that.
“You’ve got a good brother.”
Lu Shangjin hung up.
Xia Pingtian felt a lump stuck in his throat. Grabbing his assistant by the collar, he snapped, “Go. Get me the report from the last time Lu Shangjin took someone for an examination.”
He yanked off his tie in frustration and drove straight to Xia Jingtian’s school.
—
Inside the training ground, the air reeked of blood.
Several gland hunters stood opposite Shao Wenjing, led by an M2 piranha-type alpha.
They had clearly come for a high-level omega.
Shao Wenjing leaned lazily against the railing, his expression calm, even gentle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said softly. “Maybe someone like that came before, but they’ve probably already left.”
The piranha alpha frowned deeply. “Boss, don’t play games with me.”
Same rank—but in terms of raw combat power, the piranha-type alpha far surpassed spider-types like Shao Wenjing, whose strengths lay in control and manipulation rather than direct confrontation.
His collar hung open, revealing the blue-black serial number branded around his neck: PBB000036.
Just then—
Footsteps sounded from behind.
A figure vaulted over the railing.
Yan Yi.
With both hands wrapped in bandages, he gripped a Japanese katana in each hand, his expression blank as he leapt down from the high platform.
Under the harsh lights, his descending form was outlined in gold, the blades flashing with cold, blinding light.
Shao Wenjing’s gaze locked onto him.
Yan Yi didn’t hesitate for a second.
The blade came down in a clean arc, plunging straight into the piranha alpha’s shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
It splattered across Yan Yi’s pale face.
He didn’t flinch.
He didn’t fear the blood in the air—even though it would amplify the piranha’s ability.
He attacked head-on.
Every move was lethal.
Like a poppy stained in blood, blooming violently and beautifully—
And in that instant, something fierce and obsessive ignited deep within Shao Wenjing’s chest.