Another guy pointed at us and barked, "None of your business! Sit down!"
I didn’t move. Sister Zhang, trembling, buried herself in my arms, shaking with fear.
Lan Ya stayed silent but gestured for us all to stay put—clearly, she knew what was going on.
One of the men sneered, "You’ve got some nerve! Daring to mess with my turf? Forgotten who you are?"
Lan Ya replied coldly, "I just follow orders. Turf means nothing to me."
The man released her shoulder and backhanded her across the face. "You’ve got three days," he snarled. "Get out of my territory and pay me back 100,000 a day for the losses. Do that, and we’re done. If not… today will seem *pleasant* compared to what’s coming."
With that, he grabbed a fistful of Lan Ya’s hair and *sliced* it off with a knife, scattering the strands in the air with a cruel smirk before turning to leave.
Lan Ya had worn her hair down to her shoulders—now, a patch was missing, leaving an ugly bald spot.
She stood frozen for a moment before forcing a smile. "Sorry for ruining the mood, everyone. Let’s move this to my place. The drinks are still on!"
People stood awkwardly, unsure how to react.
Lan Ya waved it off. "It’s nothing. In this line of work, stuff like this happens all the time. If you consider me a friend, don’t dwell on it. If you respect me, follow me."
She strode out first. At the door, the black-clad man whispered something to her. Lan Ya gestured dismissively, and he vanished into the night. Two girls ushered us into a car while the others dispersed into their own vehicles.
The black-clad man was already gone. Inside the car, only the driver, Lan Ya, and I remained. She didn’t speak the entire ride until we were nearly there.
"Pretend you saw nothing today," she said flatly.
I nodded. Even if I didn’t understand, I knew better than to ask.
Back at *Grand World*, I ran into the last person I wanted to see—no prizes for guessing who.
**The She-Devil.**
It wasn’t surprising she was here. As a former lieutenant of the previous queenpin, this was her natural habitat.
I just hadn’t expected it.
She was perched at the bar, downing liquor with some guy draped over her shoulder. The first floor was a raucous nightclub, packed with bodies thrashing to music.
When she spotted me trailing behind Lan Ya’s group, her face twisted in displeasure. She muttered something to the man beside her, who shot me a glare.
Not a student—a full-blown gangster.
Lan Ya threw the She-Devil a warning look, and she reluctantly sat back down. No words were exchanged as we followed Lan Ya upstairs.
I could feel the man’s eyes boring into my back.
This complicated things. If the She-Devil was running with actual criminals, taking her down just got a lot harder.
Lan Ya led us to the *Lotus VIP Suite*, the same upscale private room where I’d bathed earlier. It had karaoke, a bath, even a guest bedroom—luxury all the way.
Lan Ya told a server, "Bring a few girls up. These two gentlemen need company."
Only Mr. Zhong and I were men in the group. I knew what she meant and quickly interjected, "I don’t drink. I’ll just chat. No need for that."
Mr. Zhong stayed silent, neither agreeing nor refusing. I shot Lan Ya a pleading look.
She laughed. "They’re just here to liven things up. What kind of man doesn’t drink? If you don’t know how, learn. Everyone starts somewhere."
The others chuckled, clearly misinterpreting again.
The server actually brought over two young girls—familiar faces. Probably classmates from my high school, brought here by the She-Devil.
*What the hell?* If Wang Xin found out I was at *Grand World* with female "company," especially classmates, I was *dead*.
The girls, clad in microskirts, bowed before obediently sitting beside us.
Even if I barely attended school, they definitely knew me. But their eyes treated me like any other client—no personal connection.
I stiffened like a board, mortified, until Sister Zhang rescued me. "Go sing us a song," she told the girl beside me. "I’ll drink with my little brother."
Sister Zhang pressed close, her body warm against mine, sending my pulse into overdrive. I’d only ever held Wang Xin’s hand—this level of contact, especially with a woman this alluring, was overwhelming.
She poured me a beer, downed hers in one go, and nudged me to do the same. I’d never been much of a drinker, but beer was manageable.
Across the room, Lan Ya nursed her drink absently, still haunted by tonight’s events. Even the toughest woman couldn’t shrug off a knife to the throat.
Mr. Zhong was fully immersed, whispering to his companion between sips. Sisters Wang and Sun were engrossed in a dice game, while the girl assigned to me sang a soft ballad.
Sister Zhang grinned. "Let’s play a drinking game. *Winner* takes a shot."
Usually, losers drank—her twist was oddly refreshing. After a few rounds, I kept "winning"… and thus, drinking.
She was *definitely* interesting.
Several cups later, the beer hit me. My inhibitions melted, and soon I was laughing loudly, playing exaggerated rounds with Sister Zhang, gulping down each loss.
Then the black-clad man reappeared, whispering to Lan Ya. She stood. "Keep everyone entertained," she told me. "I’ll be back."
The group barely noticed, too absorbed in their revelry.
Sister Zhang queued up an upbeat track and pulled me to the center, swaying against me to the rhythm.
The energy was contagious. Soon, everyone was gyrating wildly—heads tossing, hips rolling, utterly lost in the frenzy.
In all my sixteen years, I’d never experienced anything like this. Scenes I’d only seen in movies were now my reality.
Even the reserved girls shed their inhibitions, grinding against me in the chaos. Even Sisters Wang and Sun surrendered to the madness.
Maybe *this* was the real them—stripped of pretense, freed from the weight of their masks.
For the first time, I understood why people craved this: not just the thrill, but the raw, unfiltered *release*.