Chapter 90

On the national highway to Jiangcheng, the provincial capital, a Toyota SUV sped through the night…

The next day, after receiving news that Zhang Shaojie was preparing to board his flight, Zhang Xiaoya exhaled softly.

“Sister Xiaoya, He Jie’s funeral has been handled, and his hometown has been settled. Qi Cheng and the others are unlikely to get out anytime soon—what do you want to do?” Huang Xiaojing, Zhang Xiaoya’s personal secretary, spoke quietly, sensing her mood had calmed.

“Xiaojing, make sure their outside affairs are settled too. Send word inside—they must stick to the story that they were carrying prohibited knives and provoking trouble. Once things calm down, I’ll arrange for their release.”

Huang Xiaojing smiled. “Understood, Sister Xiaoya. I’ll handle Qi Cheng and the rest. Any other tasks? You haven’t rested well these past few days—shall I schedule a spa for you?”

Zhang Xiaoya hummed in agreement, stretching lazily. “Good. Remind me in two hours—it’s time to call Chang Huaqiang.”

Around the same time, Chang Huaqiang sat in a VIP hospital room, watching his brother Chang Huazhong lying on the bed. Chang Huazhong had regained consciousness; Chang Huaqiang recounted the events to him in brief.

Chang Huaqiang knew deep down that it was the Zhang family who had struck his brother. According to his plan, he would pressure them over the shooting incident while leveraging his behind-the-scenes influence to solidify the case that Li Jun had poisoned Long Guangsheng—to warn Zhang Shaojie and his sister, and their backers, then swiftly seize the land along Yin Xing Road, including “Snow Wolf Valley,” to cut the ground from under them—inflicting a crushing blow!

Next, he would destroy the Wan Guo Hotel. Once that happened, the Zhang siblings’ two visible entities would vanish entirely, leaving only their illicit businesses. Meanwhile, his own brothers could gradually transition from black to white, becoming legitimate entrepreneurs and successful men.

This had been Chang Huaqiang’s ultimate goal for decades.

Fighting and killing were the lowest rung of the underworld; human relationships and Liyijiaohuan were the true underworld.

This was the truth Chang Huaqiang had always believed in.

Of course, he would never forget that those disposable pawns of the low-end underworld had built the ladder of white bones leading to his “success.” But a ladder is still just a ladder—it cannot be displayed. Once a man steps onto the stage, the dirty ladder must be swept clean.

He had learned of Zhang Shaojie’s “escape” from Zizhen; Zhang Xiaoya’s move made her intentions clear to him. Today, he had come to make his decision and give his brother an accounting.

After all, those underworld figures who had built the ladder still held value—alienating them would not serve his interests.

After a thorough conversation with his brother, Chang Huazhong agreed to feign a vegetative state to mitigate the fallout from the Long Guangsheng case; the hospital staff, of course, required no concern from him.

For figures like Huo Ya and the rest of the underworld crowd, Chang Huaqiang had arranged a proper resolution: to prepare for the upcoming demolition, they were absorbed into the newly formed Zhongsheng Industry Company, transforming overnight into corporate employees.

With all this settled, Chang Huaqiang waited quietly for a call—from Zhang Xiaoya.

As expected, his phone rang while he sat beside his brother. He glanced at the caller ID, smiled coldly, and in front of Chang Huazhong, pressed answer and activated speakerphone.

A pleasant, slightly husky female voice came through: “Director Chang, this is Zhang Xiaoya. When would you be available? Let’s meet and talk properly.”

Chang Huaqiang replied coolly: “What exactly does Director Zhang want to discuss? My brother is still in bed—unlike your brother, he can’t go out and enjoy himself. I’m not sure I’m in the mood to talk.”

Zhang Xiaoya paused briefly. “Big Brother Qiang, though we each eat our own meals, we’re all sheltering under the same roof. If things get too wild, it’ll hurt us all. If the roof starts leaking, no one will stay dry. So I truly wish to talk with you, Big Brother Qiang. I believe nothing is unsolvable—it just depends on how you decide.”

“Heh!” Chang Huaqiang chuckled lightly. “Sister Xiaoya calling me ‘Big Brother’ like this—if I say I’m too busy, I’ll look like a bad elder. Fine. Three this afternoon, at Qingming Yaju by the river.”

“Perfect. I’ll go ahead and brew the tea and wait for you, Big Brother. We won’t part without meeting!” Zhang Xiaoya’s husky voice carried an unconscious, languid allure.

Chang Huaqiang gave a soft hum, then ended the call.

“Third brother, I’ve arranged my own people here at the hospital—including the nurses attending you. Treat this as a period of recuperation. Soon, I’ll give you a new identity. The Zhang siblings will pay for their actions. For now, keep your people in line—absolutely no trouble during this time, understood?”

Chang Huazhong nodded faintly on the bed, straining to lift his left hand and clench it tightly. Chang Huaqiang remembered this was the childhood fist-bump ritual the three brothers performed before starting a game. His chest tightened; he sighed inwardly, then clenched his own fist and tapped it gently against his brother’s.

At that moment, Chang Huazhong opened his mouth and struggled to speak: “Big Brother, we’ve already lost Second Brother. We can’t lose any more.”

Chang Huaqiang reached out and stroked his hair, whispering: “I’ve never forgotten Huasheng’s death. I promise you—I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

———

In a few more days, the turn of the new and old centuries would arrive.

Along the Qingjiang River, dramatic changes had taken place: the narrow, muddy riverbank had been rebuilt into a four-lane dual-direction riverside road. At the site of the long-abandoned old dock, ornate archways now stood. The Qingjiang fishing boats, vanished for years, had been replaced by grand modern sightseeing vessels. A new tour program called “Eight Scenic Views of Qingjiang” had been launched.

A riverside private residence, now rendered a scarce resource due to the new road, had been fully renovated by its owner. A Ming-Qing style villa now stood proudly beside the riverside road—this was “Qingming Yaju.”

The tea house owner, also the property’s owner, Jiang Yuanqi, had suddenly risen from obscurity in Zizhen City, gradually cultivating connections with many influential local figures through “Qingming Yaju.”

Thanks to its prime location and elegantly rustic décor, it had become a frequent haunt for figures from both government and business circles.

Chang Huaqiang chose this place to meet Zhang Xiaoya precisely because of its uniqueness—though he was not here to admire the scenery or sip tea.