In the city center square stands a towering skyscraper, stretching up towards the sky for a staggering one hundred stories—eighty above ground and twenty below. This is the most bustling commercial district in the entire city, the economic heartland, and a commercial empire controlled by three young, mysterious men. No one knows where they came from, nor has anyone seen their true faces. People only know them by their codenames: Saint, Yama, and Tyrant.
Ten stories underground in this commercial empire, a mature and charming man intertwines his fingers together, sitting in a leather chair. He has blue eyes and black hair, seemingly around thirty, and his every move is elegant and refined—it's quite clear he is a man of mixed heritage. But right now, his face looks somewhat gloomy, seemingly suppressing an anger. This man is Jin Shengyu, the top leader of the commercial empire, also known as Saint.
His calm eyes scan over the two men sitting before him. One of the men, twirling his legs and looking rather carefree, whistling and tapping on the desk, completely ignoring Jin Shengyu's apparent anger. He is twenty years old and still a university student. Despite his harmless appearance, he's known for his hot temper. He is Gong Yaoting, also known as Tyrant, the youngest leader in the commercial empire.
The last man, Heng Tingyan, our protagonist, has a rather “deadpan” expression. His complexion is as pale as Hell's King Yama, and his swift and decisive methods send chills down the spine of many.
"Do you have anything to say?" Jin Shengyu's blue eyes seemed to flicker against the two men in front of him- this pair, who had become partners due to similar family backgrounds, and whom each kept a bitter history hidden deep within their hearts.
"Nothing, Shengyu," Heng Tingyan replied, his black bangs glinting with a trace of gold. His cryptic smile, especially, gave off an eerily mesmerizing vibe.
Gong Yaoting, opening his mouth to display a wide grin, chimed in, "Me neither."
"You two," Jin Shengyu suddenly slammed his hand onto the table. Thankfully the table was made of sturdy rosewood; much of the noise was absorbed, so there wasn't much of an echo in the sizable office.
"Is there anything else?" Gong Yaoting and Heng Tingyan looked up curiously, grins full of smug satisfaction.
Jin Shengyu slumped down into his chair, sniggered and said ominously, "I've said what I needed to say. If you can't complete the task in two years, you'll have to deal with the consequences yourselves.” This riled up Gong Yaoting.
"You’ve gone too far. I'm only twenty. Are you trying to trample on the flower of our nation?" Gong Yaoting's anger flares- he lunges forward and locks eyes with Jin Shengyu.
"Well, when I first asked you both about this you didn’t raise any objections, did you? What’s the use of complaining now?" He chuckles, grinning like the proverbial cat that got the cream.
"Yan, aren't you going to say anything?" Gong Yaoting gives Heng Tingyan, seated to the side, a kick.
However, a glint appears in Heng Tingyan’s eyes. "Shengyu, I've got no complaints. When the time comes, we'll see who wins and who loses." He stood up, revealing his tall and slender frame, and gently adjusted his woolen coat. He left Gong Yaoting, huffing and puffing, in the room, but it’s worth mentioning that Gong Yaoting was still relatively young and hadn't fully grown his beard yet, so stamping his feet in anger was all he did.
Jin Shengyu shrugged his shoulders, glanced at his wristwatch and reminded Gong Yaoting, "Seems like you're about to be late for class."
"Harumph, Yu, just you wait. I won't be admitting defeat." Gong Yaoting threw off his backpack in a huff and stomped away. It was just a bet, and he could afford to gamble. But why did his heart hurt so much? Because losing the bet meant giving up half of his share... Half of his fortune, and this predicament was unbearable.
Looking at the departure of Hengting Yan and Gong Yaoting, Jin Shengyu's eyes crinkled with mirth, his blue orbs radiating an aura of tranquility.
As Hengting Yan stood in the elevator, he pressed the button for floor eighty. The elevator began its ascent, as if undertaking a journey from hell to heaven. The confined space always triggered unpleasant memories, and the pain hidden in the depths of his heart began to surface again.
Nine years earlier, there’s a sizeable graveyard. Two tombstones stood side by-side here. In each grave lay a young couple. They were victims of a tragic traffic accident, set in the scene as two saloon cars collided on a freeway, followed by an explosion that took it all away.
The graves were surrounded by a group of mourners, their faces visibly suffused with grief. Among them was a fifteen-year-old boy who didn't cry but stood there with a stoic expression. This was Hengting Yan, the son of one of the couples. The adults had thought he was oblivious to the cause of his parents' death, but in fact, he was all too aware. His father had an affair with the woman in the other grave, and when his mother found out, they all decided to confront it together, leading to their fatal crash.
His gaze was fixed unswervingly on the image of the woman etched into the gravestone, smiling carefreely. He despised her for disrupting his family and causing him to lose his parents.
At that moment, a nun approached the crowd with a seven-year-old girl dressed in a white top and black skirt, who was clutching a brand-new ragdoll. The girl, more frail than most girls her age, peered timidly at the crowd, her eyes wide with fear like a startled bunny. However, her fair complexion and delicate features already hinted at the beauty she would grow into.
