This was Su Hui’s last chance.
After being deported back to the country, he dared not contact his old friends, using the little money he had to rent a small single room.
The unit wasn’t even half the size of his previous bathroom, but it carried traces of every tenant who had ever lived there.
The scuffed walls bore grease stains, dried slime, dirt of varying depths, and plenty of marks from adhesive tape—
Every previous tenant had tried to cover the unsightly mess, yet all had failed.
Poverty could not be hidden; it lingered in essence.
No matter how fine the robe, the rot at its roots was inescapable.
Su Hui realized this, albeit too late.
He was already at the edge. He knew it was nobody’s fault but his own.
He had once had abundant wealth, yet was never satisfied, greedily taking more.
Selfish to the extreme, he could not allow others even a sliver of happiness.
To him, happiness was absolute, exclusive, his alone.
Su Fengxian could have given the two children love—but he wouldn’t allow it; that care was only for him.
He and Su Pu could have had peaceful lives, but he was dissatisfied—he wanted Su Pu to always feel embarrassment, needing this contrast to feel amplified joy.
Returning home, Su Hui’s material and mental world collapsed. No money in his pockets, his phone only received veiled concern from acquaintances.
He couldn’t bear it, running from everything, until one day he saw a flyer his roommate brought home—an investment meeting in a glittering hotel in the city center, in two days.
Investment?
Su Hui’s interest was piqued; seeing the promised returns, he was even more tempted.
He still had a property his mother left him, previously managed by a trust and rented to a restaurant business from out of town.
This was his last asset; he decided to risk everything.
On the day of the event, Su Hui donned his most expensive outfit, cleaned up, and appeared at the venue.
Sure enough, wealthy people filled the room. He silently appraised their watches; even six-figure timepieces looked modest.
When the event began, he realized the so-called “investment meeting” was just a gimmick.
After the organizers spoke, a line of elegantly built dealers appeared in uniform fishtail dresses, gracefully dealing cards.
Su Hui received one—7 of hearts.
Seven was his lucky number. Even realizing the real intent, he didn’t leave immediately.
He wanted to see if he was truly doomed.
Soon, the results revealed some luck—he won three tables.
With an initial stake of ten thousand, he hadn’t even paid yet, and had already earned twenty thousand.
He set a personal limit: lose ten thousand, leave.
But that night, he lost one hundred thirty thousand.
Later, he realized it had been a meticulously planned scam. Most attendees were actors, targeting opportunists like him.
He could have avoided it, but it was too late.
By the time he grasped the truth, he had signed a property transfer agreement—three million collateral on a prime downtown property to the so-called “investment company.”
Only forty thousand remained; he thought to test his luck with ten thousand.
That too vanished quickly, leaving him with a six-ten thousand loan note.
By then, Su Hui’s eyes were red with rage—his life utterly ruined.
Irredeemably ruined!
Since it was rotten, he might as well gamble everything.
A wasted life was worth little, yet could drag many into misery.
He thought of Su Pu, thought of Li Jichuan.
Before dying, he wanted them to feel pain, unbearable, lasting pain.
Thus, Su Hui borrowed another one hundred thousand from the “investment company,” determined to go all in.
Either he could carve a path for himself and Su Fengxian in desperation,
Or, before facing death, drag someone else down with him… and he would never forgive Su Pu.
The plan was flawless. Through the “investment company,” he contacted desperate men willing to carry out the kidnapping.
Most were in debt, tens of thousands owed, desperate for money.
He even learned a bit about extortion from the “investment manager”—don’t show all your cards at once; be patient, and prepare multiple phone numbers if necessary.
He never expected that among these desperates, one would retain a shred of humanity.
Zhang Da had let Su Pu go.
At midnight, when Su Hui called the leader to have another photo of Su Pu taken, the call went unanswered.
Su Hui’s temples throbbed. He was now in an underground casino, and had just lost the roughly one million Li Jichuan had sent him.
Without new photos, no money would come in, and he wouldn’t be allowed back to the tables. The thought was worse than death itself.
A minute later, the phone finally rang. On the other end, someone shouted that there had been a mole among them, and the target had escaped.
Su Hui felt his heart leap to his throat, taking deep, desperate breaths to steady himself. He collapsed against the wall, yelling for them to go find the person immediately; if they failed, he would see Xu Ge at first light, and no one would have an easy day.
The other side cursed, uttering words of agreement from the past. Su Hui silenced them, telling them to focus, while he staggered outside.
Snow was falling.
The world was silent, white flakes drifting down. He recalled his childhood, the first time he saw Su Pu—also on a snowy day. Snow had fallen all night, piling thick on the ground and dirtying his new shoes.
Entering the hospital room, he had seen a beautiful woman in one bed, and a striking little child in the adjacent bed. The child’s bed was empty underneath, the feet covered in frostbite, smeared with brown ointment staining the crisp white sheets.
Looking at those bare little feet, then down at his own polished shoes, he still felt dissatisfied.
Even then, he realized he had been jealous from the very first moment he saw Su Pu. That jealousy, he now understood, had carried a deep thread of longing.
He would never have had the courage to run barefoot through the snow to save someone, nor the ability to love like that—but he longed for it.
He had always been a coward. Perhaps he had never truly loved anyone in his life.
And those who had loved him… had all left.
Dazed, Su Hui picked up the phone again. They told him Su Pu had been found.
Tied up too long, Su Pu’s limbs were numb; he hadn’t gotten far before collapsing outside the stairwell.
“They’ll put him back inside first. The rest is your problem. We’re done making money off this.”
The voice dripped with disdain. After all, if Su Pu escaped and reported it, the kidnappers’ guilt would be undeniable—they’d be in far more danger than Su Hui.
“The key is under the mat. If you don’t come, leave him in there to starve; someone will find him when he rots.”
They hung up with a laugh and a curse.
A taxi happened to be nearby. He got in, hesitated, then gave the address of the old apartment. He knew Su Pu had lived there for half a year; perhaps it would serve as a final refuge.
Unlocking the door, the faint smell of smoke hung in the air.
To his surprise, the apartment was slightly better than his current place, stirring mixed emotions.
Pushing open the innermost door, he saw Su Pu lying on the floor—arms bound behind his back, legs tied, eyes covered tightly, mouth gagged.
“Heh, Su Pu,” he paused, changing his tone, “my dear brother!”
“Can you hear my voice? After Li Jichuan’s done with you, did you think you’d never see me again?”
“Think again!”
He stepped forward, crouched, and yanked at the blindfold—only to see a face that was… unfamiliar.
No. This was not Su Pu.
He tore off the blindfold fully—and met a pair of piercing blue eyes.
John spat out the paper stuffed in his mouth. Really? Did anyone actually think that paper could stop someone from speaking? How childish! Only Su Hui could be fooled by that.
The man panicked, falling hard to the floor.
The next second, a cool tip of a sword pressed against his throat.
Following the blade up, he saw—it was Su Pu.
The once submissive, weak little mute?
In a daze, the tip pressed harder against his skin, cutting off his breath.
“What… what are you doing?” Su Hui croaked, writhing backward, flipping to avoid the sword.
In doing so, he finally took in the room’s setup: cameras everywhere. John quietly rose, standing behind Su Pu, ready to protect him.
Outside, in the dim light, Li Jichuan and his colleagues watched silently.
Su Hui smiled faintly. There was no escape—this was the trap they had set.
If he hadn’t been greedy, he wouldn’t have walked right into it. Yet here he was…
Now, he felt a strange calm, lifting his chin to ask Su Pu:
“Still have the sword?”
“Want to duel me?”
“If I lose, I’ll turn myself in immediately; if I win, let me see Dad once more before surrendering, okay?”
Su Pu thought for a moment and nodded.