C7 Threaten You!

"Got an answer yet?" Chen Zhixuan mumbled, his mind whisking him back to his school days in an instant.

"Hey, boss, you've got the wrong room."

Chen Zhixuan's thoughts were interrupted by the distant voice of the attractive female manager.

"Trouble's brewing," Fatty Zhang said, clapping Chen Zhixuan on the shoulder before dashing off. Chen Zhixuan snuffed out his cigarette and followed suit, the tumult from the room growing louder as they approached.

"Scram." The two men in black blocked their path before they could get any closer, their faces grim as they barked at them. Their crisp black suits and gleaming sunglasses left no doubt about their role as bodyguards.

"Is my friend in there?" Chen Zhixuan asked, his gaze icy as he confronted the pair.

"Bosses, you're finally here. This..." The female manager emerged, her face etched with anxiety.

"Stay back," she started to say, but was cut off by Han Qiuran's piercing scream from within.

"To hell with this." Fatty Zhang cursed, hurling a wine bottle at one of the bodyguards' heads. It connected with a thud, sending the guard crumpling to the floor, out cold.

Chen Zhixuan was taken aback; he hadn't expected Fatty Zhang to act so ferociously, nor did he know where the wine bottle had come from.

"Xuanzi, get in there. I'll handle this guy," Fatty Zhang called out.

Without a second thought, Chen Zhixuan burst through the door. Han Qiuran and Tang Wanli were still inside, after all.

He was met with the sight of Han Qiuran in the arms of a young man, her clothing disheveled. The young man was grinning stupidly, clearly drunk.

"Zhixuan, help me!" Han Qiuran's voice was desperate as she saw Chen Zhixuan, calling out to him as if he were her lifeline.

Without hesitation, Chen Zhixuan charged forward and sent the young man flying with a swift kick. The man's mouth struck the edge of a coffee table, and blood began to pour out immediately.

Han Qiuran, having just extricated herself, cowered behind Chen Zhixuan like a startled rabbit. Chen could feel her body quaking; it was clear she was deeply frightened.

"Murder!" The sudden screams shattered the quiet.

The first to rush in was the supervisor, a striking woman who became visibly flustered at the scene before her, standing frozen and muttering to herself. In contrast, Chen had regained his composure.

Next came a bodyguard from the doorway, dragging a disheveled Fatty Zhang with him.

Fatty Zhang was a pitiful sight, his face swollen to the point of disfigurement, his speech slurred and unintelligible.

"Young Master Wang," the bodyguard called out, spotting the young man sprawled across the coffee table. He tossed Fatty Zhang aside and hurried to perform basic first aid.

"You hit him that hard?" Fatty Zhang managed to say, stumbling over to Chen and nursing his bruised, panda-like eyes.

"It wasn't intentional; he was just trying to save me," Han Qiuran interjected, having regained her composure, and quickly came to Chen's defense.

Chen remained silent, his gaze fixed on the young man. His mind was a whirlwind of worry, fearing the young man might have succumbed to his vices and be beyond help, which would spell trouble for him. Chen knew all too well the regret that follows rash actions, and he was not immune.

"Guys, you should get out of here fast," the supervisor whispered, sidling up to Chen with a cautious urgency.

"Yeah, we need to go now," Fatty Zhang agreed, his attention fixed on the growing number of ominous figures gathering outside. They had clearly crossed someone formidable. With the wisdom of choosing battles wisely, he murmured to Chen.

Chen was considering his next move when the young man on the coffee table abruptly stood up. Gone was any sign of inebriation; his eyes were cold and menacing, fixed on Chen as if he were prey to be devoured in the blink of an eye.

The bodyguard next to him continued to dab at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but in a swift moment, he received a stinging slap from Young Master Wang.

"Useless," Young Master Wang uttered with a chilling tone.

"Yes, sir."

The bodyguard's face swelled visibly, a testament to the force behind the slap. He didn't dare to flinch or utter a word, silently bearing the brunt of the assault.

"Not too shabby, kid. You've got the nerve to hit me? Do you have any idea who I am?" Young Master Wang sneered, dabbing at the blood on his lip before tasting it. His gaze then leisurely shifted to Chen Zhixuan.

Unperturbed, Chen Zhixuan relaxed considerably, reassured that no serious harm had been done.

He guided Han Qiuran to a nearby sofa, lit a Middle Southern Sea cigarette, and coolly asked, "So, what is it that you want?"

"What do I want?" Young Master Wang echoed the question, then slowly advanced toward Chen Zhixuan.

"What's your game?" Fatty Zhang stepped protectively in front of Chen Zhixuan. Despite his swollen face making speech difficult, the grip on his wine bottle revealed he wasn't intimidated by Young Master Wang—in fact, it seemed to fuel his defiance.

"Haha, how amusing," Young Master Wang laughed heartily, then snapped his fingers. The bodyguards who had been stationed outside swarmed into the room, quickly crowding the spacious private booth.

"Young Master Wang, this is the Heavenly Night Club, and our boss—" The elegant supervisor began, only to be cut off by a swift kick from Young Master Wang, sending her sprawling to the side.

"Silence! Who gave you permission to speak?" Young Master Wang looked down at her with disdain.

The supervisor bit back any further words, silently enduring the humiliation.

Without warning, Young Master Wang pulled a knife from one of his bodyguards. It gleamed dangerously under the lights, its sharpness unmistakable. He placed it gently on the coffee table, where it sank into the wood with ease.

"What are you planning? I'm telling you, I've already called the police," Fatty Zhang blurted out, his voice tinged with panic as he fumbled for his phone.

"In my whole life, I've never taken a hit like this," Wang Yu declared with a smirk. "Resolving this is straightforward—just leave behind one of your pinkies. That's all I'm asking for." His gaze, laced with malice, was fixed on Chen Zhixuan, prompting an involuntary shriek from Tang Wanli at his side.

"And what if I refuse?" Chen Zhixuan casually flicked away the ash from his cigarette, meeting Wang Yu's threatening stare with undaunted eyes.

"Ha, you're sure about that?" Wang Yu chuckled darkly. "If I have my guys step in, it won't be nearly as simple. Think it over before you give me your final answer."