Chapter 677: Aftermath

Outside Heavenly Palace K, neon lights still flickered, decking the city's night in luxurious decadence. But at this moment, Director Qian, standing in the cold wind of the parking lot, felt no warmth at all, only a chill rising from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He almost climbed into his own car—a black Maybach—using hands and feet alike. Seeing his ashen face and cold sweat covering his body, the driver asked anxiously, "Director Qian, are you alright?"

Director Qian snapped back to his senses like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, and shouted harshly, "It's fine! Drive your car! Go… go home!"

The driver dared not ask further, quickly started the engine, and the vehicle smoothly drove away from the place that had left his boss disoriented and troubled.

Inside the car, Director Qian slumped onto the rear leather seat, his heart still pounding wildly. He closed his eyes, and uncontrollably his mind replayed the terrifying sounds he had overheard outside the door—Lin Dongfan's hypocritical "efforts to mediate," the grating shatter of a wine bottle, and Li Hengbo's suppressed, dying‑beast‑like howls.

Too ruthless! Too extreme!

Lin Dongfan didn't just use force; he wanted to destroy his heart! He made it look spotless, as if everything were merely Li Hengbo's "self‑harm" from losing emotional control. Such tactics are… simply devilish!

Director Qian jerked his eyes open, pulled out his phone, and his trembling fingers scrolled through the contacts. He wanted to call Li Hengbo or send a message to ask about the situation, even if it were hypocritical concern. But his finger hovered over the dial button and he couldn't bring himself to press it.

What would calling him now amount to? Condolences? Li Hengbo, a man who cares intensely about face, would least want to see anyone who had witnessed or known his sorry state right now. Moreover, Lin Dongfan's parting words, "Don't go in and disturb him," were less advice than warning. If he now stirred this trouble, he could hardly avoid bringing fire upon himself.

But if he ignored it, what if Li Hengbo later took out his anger on him for standing by and doing nothing?

Director Qian found himself trapped in a great contradiction and fear. He felt like a mouse in a bellows, squeezed from both sides. On one side was the ruthless, inscrutable Lin Dongfan; on the other, the temporarily set‑back but still holding leverage over him, cruel and ruthless Li Hengbo.

"Lin Family… Lin Dongfan…" Director Qian muttered, more cold sweat beading on his forehead. He had originally thought that by following Li Hengbo and tapping into that mad energy he could crush Lin Dongfan completely, profit from it, and free himself from control. But now he belatedly realized that this "mad dog" Lin Dongfan, when pushed to the edge, fought back with terrifying ferocity. Li Hengbo's vaunted power and background seemed fragile as paper before the opponent's law‑less, results‑only violence.

What Lin Dongfan displayed tonight was not merely force, but a terrifying wisdom that cloaked violence as "accident" or "self‑inflicted." Could such a person really be toppled by Li Hengbo's little scheming?

For the first time, Director Qian felt a deep shaking of the camp he had chosen.

……

Meanwhile, inside the devastated Imperial private room at Heavenly Palace K.

Li Hengbo didn't know how long he had lain sprawled on the icy floor; the blood seeping from his forehead wound had half‑clotted, mixing with liquor and sticking to his face, both itchy and painful. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the humiliation and anger raging inside.

He struggled, using his intact leg and both arms to prop himself up, leaning against the edge of the overturned sofa and gulping for air. Each breath tugged at his wounds, especially the sore leg, a piercing pain that made him wonder whether Lin Dongfan had truly "accidentally" crippled him completely.

"Lin… Dong… Fan…" he forced the name from between his teeth, each syllable soaked in a blood‑deep hatred. The venom in his eyes almost solidified.

After all these years of riding roughshod, when had Li Hengbo ever suffered such outrageous disgrace? To be attacked in his own home, pinned to the ground and rubbed, then slapped with a "self‑harm" label! He could never swallow this anger.

He fumbled, found his phone among the scattered debris on the floor. The screen was cracked in several places but still usable. He trembled as he dialed a number.

The phone rang for Along time before being answered, and a low, slightly impatient voice came from the other end: "What's the matter at this hour?"

"Uncle… it's me, Hengbo." Li Hengbo's voice was hoarse and dry, choked with suppressed tears and anger: "I've been messed with! It's Lin Dongfan! He almost beat me to death!"

On the other end, silence fell for a moment, then the voice grew more solemn: "Lin Dongfan? How dare he? Tell me exactly what happened, in full detail! Don't hide anything!"

Li Hengbo seized on the lifeline and immediately embellished his account of tonight's events. Of course, in his telling he was completely an innocent victim, Lin Dongfan a barbaric, unreasonable thug who had suddenly burst in and committed violence, while the waitress and Director Qian became suspicious pawns possibly used by Lin Dongfan.

"…Uncle, he simply has no regard for you, or for our Li Family at all! He's provoking you! You must stand up for me!" Li Hengbo sobbed as he protested.

The person on the other end listened, then instead of giving an immediate reply asked, "Who else was there at the time? Qian the fat? What was his reaction?"

"That good‑for‑nothing Qian Youcai! He was scared piss‑less, Lin Dongfan told him to scram and he scrambled right away! He must have been eavesdropping outside!" Li Hengbo spat bitterly.

"Understood." The voice on the other end remained steady, even with a hint of chill: "Go to the hospital first to tend your wounds. Keep this quiet, especially keep the media out of it. As for the Lin Family… I'll handle it myself."

"But Uncle…"

"No buts!" the other party cut him off, tone carrying an unquestionable sternness: "Since Lin Dongfan dared to do this, he surely has backing. If you jump out now, you'll only cement the rumor of 'self‑harm' or a fight scandal! Don't forget your own rear isn't clean either! Stay calm, heal your wounds—we'll settle this score later."

Having said that, without waiting for Li Hengbo to argue further, the other party hung up directly.

Hearing the busy tone on the phone, Li Hengbo was so furious he almost smashed the device. He hadn't expected that his uncle, who usually doted on him, would this time not immediately declare support but instead tell him to endure!

"Calm? How the hell am I supposed to stay calm?!" Li Hengbo growled, slamming a fist onto the carpet, which tugged at his wound and made him grit his teeth in pain.

But he was not completely a fool. His uncle's words woke him up: making a big scene would do him no good. Lin Dongfan, that bastard, had staged the scene to look like his "self‑harm," and there were no other witnesses (Director Qian and the bodyguards surely wouldn't testify). If it went to court, he might not come out ahead, and could instead drag up all his previous sordid affairs.

"Lin Dongfan… just you wait! If I don't avenge this, I, Li Hengbo, swear I won't be a man!" His eyes flashed with venom and madness as he began to plot a more vicious, covert revenge in his heart.

……