Chapter 13: Why Not Just Come With Me?

Following the corridor all the way out, Deling’s heart fluttered with unease, never settling. From a distance came anguished wails, so pitiful they sent chills through her spine. She turned toward the sound and saw, in a forgotten corner of the hall where no one passed, a man curled on the ground clutching his head, being beaten by a group.

The crowd gathered at the center of the hall paid no attention to what was unfolding in the same space, lost in their game at the table, drowning in their revelry.

Deling couldn’t make out the face of the man lying on the floor. The more indistinct it became, the deeper her worry grew. She had no time to think further and hurried forward.

As she reached him, she faintly discerned the man’s silhouette—his hairstyle and build somewhat resembled Wang Siyang. Her heart clenched suddenly, and with a trembling voice, she cried out, “Stop!”

The group ceased their assault. The burly man leading them turned his head.

Deling felt a flicker of familiarity. After a moment’s thought, she recalled having seen him before—he seemed to have delivered something to Ye Hongxiao on behalf of Lu Feng.

“Miss De?” The man clearly recognized her and pointed to the man on the ground. “Do you know him?”

Deling steadied herself and replied, “Whether you know him or not, you can’t beat someone like this. This is a public place.”

“From Miss De’s tone, it sounds like you want to stand up for him?” The man appraised her from head to toe, then stepped closer with a grin. “Standing up for him is possible.”

Though smiling, a fierce menace lingered in his eyes. His every step pressed forward, forcing Deling to retreat a step.

“Since Miss De has spoken, give some face. There are two ways: either you pay his debt, or…” The man patted her shoulder, but his hand lingered, slowly kneading her collarbone over her thin clothing. “I’ve admired you for a long time. Now that you and Young Master Ye are apart, how about... coming with me?”

Disgust flooded Deling’s heart. She shook off the hand and steadied her nerves. “How much does he owe you?”

“Not much. Seven hundred thousand.”

Deling frowned. Even twenty thousand was a stretch for her now, let alone seven hundred thousand. Besides, she hadn’t yet confirmed if the man on the floor was really Wang Siyang.

“No money?” The man chuckled upon her silence and leaned in again. “Then perhaps you should reconsider my earlier offer?”

Deling dodged him. “Let me see the man first.”

The man snorted, waved his hand, and several burly men appeared from behind him, encircling Deling. “Please, Miss De, come upstairs for some tea.”

Fear was undeniable—these men were no good.

Deling clenched her palms until fine sweat formed, yet she remained composed. “Let me see him first, please.”

“Do you think I’m negotiating with you?” The man sneered. “Attack!”

When Deling had rushed out of the private room, she hadn’t brought her phone along, so she couldn’t contact Lin Shanni. Though she was still in the hall, she was tucked away in a corner; without close attention, hardly anyone would notice what was happening here. She could only try to stall, hoping someone would pass by.

Her arm was suddenly gripped tightly. Struggling, she said, “Let go. I’ll go with you.”

What was meant to buy time was interrupted by a sharp question in her ear: “Who do you think you’re going with?”

Deling turned toward the voice. It was Ye Hongxiao, with Song Zigu standing beside him.