Jiang Fuyue switched off the light and carefully closed the door, wiping away any fingerprints. She briskly walked out of Sanliu Street while dialing Liu Jinzhong on her phone.
“Liu Sisi’s parents have died in their home. Dispatch people to discreetly monitor the scene. Hold off any disruptions until daylight tomorrow,” she instructed.
“Understood,” Liu Jinzhong replied.
“And I need Liu Sisi’s exact location in five minutes.”
…..
In the western suburbs, a supposedly abandoned factory was buzzing with activity. A boxing ring had been set up, surrounded by thick ropes, with two fighters already in the ring. Cheers and the clinking of beer bottles echoed around, but this was just the “warm-up.” The real action was yet to come.
Inside the factory, people continued arriving. Each guest, dressed in rough street attire, was here for the high-stakes, underground boxing matches. At the entrance, a bouncer stopped a skinny “man” wearing a baseball cap, loose pullover, jeans, and smoking a cigarette—a typical street thug look.
“Invitation, please,” the bouncer said.
Jiang Fuyue handed over a wooden token—the “invitation” required to enter. Regulars with these tokens gained entry to monthly gambling events here; without one, outsiders were treated as spies.
The bouncer examined the token and waved her in.
Jiang Fuyue strolled in, standing a bit back from the crowd near the ring, watching two burly foreign fighters clash with bare hands. A server approached her.
“Care for a drink?”
She took a beer and handed him a generous tip, which brightened his face.
“Would you like to place a bet?” he asked.
“Aren’t the high-stakes rounds later?” she replied.
“New rule. Betting’s open from start to finish, with higher stakes as the event progresses.”
“How much for this round?”
“Two thousand per bet,” the server replied.
“Five bets on Blue to win.”
“Got it!” The attendant swiftly pulled out the betting machine, took the bank card Jiang Fuyue handed over, and within seconds, the bet was placed.
Attendant: “Good luck! I think Blue will win too.”
With that, he lifted his tray of drinks and walked off, searching for the next potential bettor.
As it turned out, Jiang Fuyue’s luck was indeed good. In less than five minutes, Blue knocked out Red with an uppercut.
Cheers and applause erupted as the Blue fighter, battered and bruised, made a victory gesture.
Three minutes later, the second match began.
Jiang Fuyue remained where she was, watching quietly.
Her five bets had totaled 10,000 yuan. With the 1:1 odds, she netted a profit of 10,000.
Ding—
A text notification from the bank: 20,000 yuan deposited.
Jiang Fuyue raised an eyebrow.
The attendant from earlier had been keeping an eye on her. After all, a customer who tipped 100 without blinking and placed five bets in one go was likely a big spender.
Seeing her receive the deposit notification, he could no longer hold back and approached again—
“Congratulations! You won!”
Jiang Fuyue chuckled lightly, cigarette between her fingers, cap shielding her face—a mix of aloof arrogance and understated elegance.
“This little bit of money? Not really a win. Just for fun.”
The attendant took a deep breath, suppressing the excitement surging in his eyes.
This wasn’t just a “big spender”—this was a gold mine.
“Will you be betting this round?”
Jiang Fuyue responded with indifference, as if it didn’t matter either way: “Might as well.”
Attendant: “Each bet is 3,000 yuan. How many?”
Jiang Fuyue: “Twenty.”
Hiss…
Not a regular gambler, for sure. Going from 10,000 to 60,000 without a second thought.
The attendant was thrilled—looked like they’d hooked a real whale tonight.
“Which side?”
“Still Blue.”
This time, the attendant didn’t leave. He stayed beside Jiang Fuyue, waiting for the results with her.
During the wait, he attempted to make small talk, but Jiang Fuyue was solely focused on the match, not sparing him a single glance.
Strangely enough, the attendant wasn’t offended. Instead, his grin widened, his barely contained excitement growing stronger.
Yes, this was the right attitude!
Big-money players were always like this—arrogant, dismissive, untouchable.
If Jiang Fuyue had been friendly, he might’ve suspected she was faking it.
Anyone working in a place like this knew how to spot a real high roller.
Soon, the result came in—Blue won again.
With 1:2 odds, Jiang Fuyue’s winnings totaled 180,000 yuan.
The attendant took his 5% cut—9,000 yuan—far easier than earning tips from serving drinks all night.
“Sir, will you keep playing?”
Jiang Fuyue placed a few more bets, each ranging between 200,000 and 300,000, always betting on Blue.
Attendant: “?”
“Blue brings me luck. What, is that a problem?”
“N-No… You’re the boss.”
And somehow, Blue kept winning.
“You’re incredible! Are you betting on Blue again?”
“No.”
“Alright, so Red this time? How much?”
Jiang Fuyue said casually, “I meant, I’m done playing.”
“Huh?” The attendant was stunned. “But your luck is on fire! W-Why stop now?”
A hint of wariness crept into his eyes. Was she planning to take the winnings and leave?
That wasn’t the typical behavior of a true high roller.
Fake high rollers, however, did pull stunts like that.
And those types? Well… let’s just say they never made it out of the warehouse in one piece.
Jiang Fuyue waved a hand dismissively. “It’s boring.”
“Huh?”
“A few hundred thousand? Small stakes. Nothing special.”
The attendant’s expression shifted slightly. She thinks the stakes are too low?
Jiang Fuyue placed a 1,000 yuan bill on his tray. “Good service. Keep it.”
With that, she turned to leave.
“Please, wait—”
Jiang Fuyue paused mid-step. With her cap casting a shadow over her face, her expression was unreadable, but her voice was calm and cool enough to send a chill down his spine.
“You need something?”
The attendant hesitated before gritting his teeth and saying, “If you want bigger stakes, it’s possible.”
“Oh? How?”
“In our private matches, you can personally pick a fighter to enter the ring. If your pick wins, you take all the winnings, and the payout is massive. But if they lose, you cover the losses of every bettor—and possibly even more.”
Jiang Fuyue: “You mean I act as the house?”
“You could put it that way.”
“Then what’s the point of having a fight club?”
The attendant gave a small, knowing smile. “In this setup, the club simply acts as a broker, taking a 3% cut as commission.
So… are you in?”
Jiang Fuyue held a cigarette between her fingers, lightly rubbing her chin.
The attendant noticed that this “gentleman” had remarkably long and well-proportioned fingers—hands that were undeniably attractive.
A moment later—
“Sounds interesting. Let’s give it a shot.”
Her tone was casual, lips curved in a faint, ambiguous smile.
The attendant bowed at a sharp ninety degrees, raising a hand in invitation, barely able to contain his excitement. “Please, follow me—”
Under his lead, Jiang Fuyue walked past the boxing ring and entered a small, attached warehouse.
Along both sides of the dim hallway, metal cages were placed at two-step intervals, each containing fighters who were treated no better than livestock waiting to be picked.
The attendant waved a hand dismissively. “You don’t need to bother with these. They were meant for the public fights outside.”
Jiang Fuyue remained silent, her expression unreadable.
At the end of the hallway was a set of double wooden doors. When they were pushed open, a woman with sultry makeup stepped forward.
“Ah Zhi? Shouldn’t you be selling drinks? What are you doing in here?”
Ah Zhi—the name of the attendant—grinned.
“Sister Wei, I’m here to introduce a VIP guest to you!”
Sister Wei frowned slightly, following his gaze to Jiang Fuyue.
Jiang Fuyue stood with one hand in her pocket, idly playing with her cigarette in the other. The cap’s shadow obscured her face, making her unreadable.
Five seconds later, Sister Wei withdrew her gaze and gestured for Ah Zhi to step aside.
“Come with me,” she said, leading him into a back room, likely to confirm the details.
Jiang Fuyue remained where she was.
Half a minute later, she checked her watch.
Another half minute passed—she checked again. Then, without hesitation, she turned and walked away.
Completely uninterested.
Inside the back room, Sister Wei had been watching everything through the surveillance feed.
Ah Zhi panicked. “See? I wasn’t lying! This is the real deal—a proper high roller. He’s not here because he has to be; he’s here purely for the thrill. A classic playboy. If you don’t go now, he’s really going to leave!”
Only then did Sister Wei chase after her.
“Esteemed guest, please wait.”
Jiang Fuyue didn’t stop, her imposing figure radiating arrogance even from behind.
Panic flashed in Sister Wei’s eyes. She quickened her pace, heels clacking sharply against the floor, and hurried ahead to block Jiang Fuyue’s path.
Bowing deeply, she spoke with clear desperation. “I sincerely apologize for the delay.”
Only then did Jiang Fuyue glance at her—eyes cold, lips curling in a mocking sneer.
“What the h*ll was that?”
Pure dominance.
Sister Wei clenched her teeth and lowered herself even further, her pale neck fully exposed in submission.
“I’m truly sorry.”
Jiang Fuyue flicked a 100-yuan bill and tucked it into her collar.
“Nice figure. Consider it a tip.”
Sister Wei’s eyes flashed with both shame and fury, but at the same time, any lingering doubts were completely erased.
This attitude—this arrogance—wasn’t something anyone could fake.
Ah Zhi caught up as well, apologizing profusely. “Please don’t hold it against us, sir. We’re just small-time folks.”
Jiang Fuyue listened to two whole minutes of flattering apologies before finally—grudgingly—allowing herself to be escorted inside.
The space beyond the doors was vast and clean, completely different from the messy hallway outside.
Metal cages still lined the room, but the fighters inside were different—each radiating sharp hostility, brimming with battle-hardened ferocity.
Unlike the fighters outside, they bore no visible bloodstains. Their clothes were clean, their treatment clearly superior by a long shot.
Sister Wei gestured to them. “These are our best fighters. Every single one has been an MVP in past matches. Here are their records—you may take a look.”
Jiang Fuyue reached out and took the documents, cross-referencing the numbers on the pages with the numbers on the cages.
Like inspecting merchandise.
The fighters, however, weren’t offended. They were used to this.
If anything, their eyes burned with desire.
Desire for what?
To be chosen.
If a guest took the banker’s seat and bet on a fighter who won, that fighter would get a 5% commission—even higher than what the fight club itself took.
Suddenly, Jiang Fuyue’s gaze paused on one page.
She tapped a finger against it.
“A woman?”
Sister Wei hesitated. “That’s our newest fighter, Sarah. She set the record for most consecutive wins in a single week. You can see for yourself—”
The records started six days ago—win after win, undefeated.
Jiang Fuyue had a gut feeling—this was Liu Sisi.
“Show her to me.”
Sister Wei made a subtle gesture, sending a subordinate further down the corridor.
“My apologies,” she explained smoothly. “This fighter has a bit of a temper—tends to go berserk—so we have to keep her in special confinement.”
She gave a pleased smile. “You have quite the eye, sir. You picked out the best fighter we have here.”
Jiang Fuyue’s lips curled into a cold smirk, voice carrying a dangerous edge.
“When someone tries too hard to sell something… it makes the buyer doubt its quality.”
Sister Wei’s smile stiffened. She shut up immediately.
Her wariness toward this guest deepened.
Who the h*ll was this guy? His aura, his presence—too powerful, too natural.
Moments later, the subordinate returned—leading someone on a metal chain.
Jiang Fuyue’s pupils contracted sharply.
Liu Sisi.
Her head was lowered, her body covered in blood, barely clinging to consciousness.
She gritted her teeth, but in the next second—
Jiang Fuyue let out a chilling laugh.
“This is what you call your ‘best’ fighter?”
Sister Wei’s expression froze.
The next moment—
A steel-like grip closed around her throat.
Jiang Fuyue’s voice was low and furious.
“Are you f*cking kidding me?”
“Khh—!” Sister Wei choked, her face turning red.
“Wait—listen—”
Jiang Fuyue ignored her, tightening her grip.
Sister Wei’s eyes rolled back.
Not a single subordinate dared to step forward.
“She looks weak now, but once she’s in the ring, she’ll fight like a demon—I swear—khh—!”
Jiang Fuyue wanted to snap her neck right then and there.
But the timing wasn’t right.
She forced herself to cool down.
Finally, she let go.
Sister Wei collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
Meanwhile, Jiang Fuyue had already sat down, cigarette still in hand—playing with it idly, as if nothing had happened….
