Chapter 100

Bailemen Nightclub, Shen City's most extravagant entertainment venue.

Tonight Bailemen remains brightly lit, the jazz band is playing "Whispering" on stage. On the dance floor, gentlemen in fine suits and ladies in cheongsams dance gracefully, while perfume, powder, and cigar smoke mingle in the air.

In the private rooms on the second floor, glasses clink and chatter fills the air. Debauched aristocratic youths embrace singers, lavishly squandering their families' wealth. This is the gold‑selling den of Shen City's elites, staging nightly spectacles of opulent decadence.

But in the innermost private room, the atmosphere is unusually hushed.

Qin Chang'an sits alone by the window, a bottle of whiskey nearly empty before him. The Security Commander's son rarely visits such places.

"Young Commander," the Bailemen owner Chen Sihai says with a beaming smile as he pushes the door open, followed by several heavily made‑up singers, "Your coming today really flatters Bailemen! Would you like…"

"Leave," Qin Chang'an says calmly. His voice is steady, yet carries undeniable authority.

Chen Sihai politely steps back out. After years in Shen City, this is his first time seeing Qin Chang'an at Bailemen. The Young Commander usually stays in Kunshan, and is said to have trained a security troupe into fierce wolves.

The jazz downstairs switches to "TeaforTwo," and the dancers move even more wildly, yet the sounds of decadence ring especially grating in Qin Chang'an's ears.

He pours himself another drink, his gaze fixed on the night outside. From here he can see the entire Xiafei Road, its lights dazzling, traffic flowing endlessly.

He pulls a gold pocket watch from his coat, checking the time for the tenth time. The watch is the last relic his father left him.

Thinking of his father's death, Qin Chang'an's eyes sharpen. As a military commander, he knows that night's events were no accident. That mysterious unit not only annihilated the Eastern Empire's elite Ninth Division, but also forced the headquarters to cough up six million dollars.

Such military power far exceeds what a Fourth Bureau Chief should possess.

What concerns him more is the unit's tactics, which seem lifted straight from German military manuals. Every detail mirrors the German combat manuals he studied while studying in Britain.

Lin Yu, the young man who was just an ordinary patrol officer a month ago, what is his background?

He glances again at the pocket watch; it reads ten o'clock. Outside, Nanjing Road bustles with traffic, neon lights flicker in the night, as always prosperous. Yet Qin Chang'an knows that beneath this splendor, hidden currents surge.

At that moment, the private room's door is gently pushed open. Qin Chang'an lifts his head, a hint of anticipation flashing in his eyes.

The door opens, and a young man in crisp military uniform strides in. The insignia shows he is a staff officer of the Southern Jiang Military Governor's Mansion, yet his relaxed gait and cynically playful smile clash with the formal attire.

"Yo, isn't this Qin the Young Commander?" the young man grins, sitting on the opposite sofa without waiting for Qin Chang'an to speak, "What, drinking alone here?"

"Lu Xiao," Qin Chang'an says calmly, "You've arrived quite on time."

"Sure," Lu Xiao grabs a glass of whiskey from the table, pours a drink, "I heard Qin the Young Commander was slapped twice by that Lin Madman, so I came especially to pay my respects."

He lifts his glass, a hint of mockery in his eyes: "It's ironic, the Security Commander's son, on his own turf, gets slapped and doesn't even dare to fart."

Qin Chang'an looks at him calmly: "The Southern Jiang Military Governor's heir, traveling a long way just to spout these cold jokes?"

"Don't say that," Lu Xiao waves his hand, "We're childhood friends, aren't I caring about you? I heard your uncle Yang Chengdong now controls the Security Army, so your Young Commander position must be hard to hold."

He sips his drink, continuing: "You say you're the same, abandoning the Kunshan security troupe to meddle in Shen City's mess. Now, you can't avenge your father's grudge, and can't even protect your own territory…"

"Lu Xiao," Qin Chang'an interrupts, "Your father sent you to Shen City just to watch my joke?"

Lu Xiao's smile falters slightly. He is the only son of Southern Jiang Military Governor Lu Anxiang, raised alongside Qin Chang'an since childhood. Yet their personalities differ starkly—one a elite from a military family, the other a pampered playboy.

"Fine," Lu Xiao sets his glass down, "I'm just reminding you that today's Shen City isn't the Shen City when your father was alive. That Lin Madman…"

He lowers his voice: "Someone who dared to annihilate the Ninth Division—do you think he'd even notice a little Young Commander like you?"

Qin Chang'an says nothing, simply watching the night outside the window in silence.

"But don't worry too much," Lu Xiao's tone suddenly turns serious, "My father sent me here to tell you there's still a turning point."

"Turning point?"

"Exactly," Lu Xiao nods, "Someone else will arrive soon. They're also dissatisfied with that troublemaker Lin Madman."

He glances at his pocket watch: "They should be here soon. Speaking of which, you probably know one of them, after all…"

Before he finishes, the private room's door opens again. Lu Xiao's face shows a knowing smile: "They've arrived."

Qin Chang'an turns his head; when he sees the newcomer's face, his eyes narrow slightly. He didn't expect this person would also come.

The private room door opens, and two young men walk in.

Leading the pair is a slightly shy young man wearing gold‑rimmed glasses; his plump build gives him a somewhat simple look. He is Liu Wen, the sole son of Shen City's guardian Liu Xu.

Behind him, a man in a meticulously tailored trench coat, with a custom‑made suit vest underneath, a diamond tie pin glinting coldly in the light. Every gesture exudes an innate aristocratic aura.

"What a coincidence," Lu Xiao stands, a playful smile on his face, "Now the four great Jiangnan gentlemen have all gathered."

Liu Wen pushes his glasses up, sitting on the sofa a bit awkwardly. The trench‑coat man gracefully unbuttons, revealing an expensive silk vest underneath.

"Four great gentlemen?" he chuckles lightly, "That kind of Jianghu nickname is only something you Lu Xiao enjoy hearing."

Qin Chang'an watches the scene, his gaze lingering on the trench‑coat man for a moment. He didn't expect even he would come. It seems Shen City's situation is far more complex than he imagined.

"Since they're here," Lu Xiao pours each a drink, "let's not beat around the bush. Shen City's era needs to change."

Outside, the night deepens. Bailemen's jazz still plays, but the atmosphere in the private room grows increasingly solemn.