Chapter 123: The Air Is Poisonous

Night Never Ends Bar.

Inside the luxurious top-floor theater, Zhuo Yihu stood by with a fawning smile, serving tea and water. Seated in the front row were two men: one, an elderly man over sixty with a white beard and hair; the other, a stylish, dashing youth dressed in designer labels. They were none other than Long Tiancheng and Fu Tingxiu.

"Third Master, Young Master Fu, the Zhao sisters are finishing their makeup. They will be out to perform shortly," Zhuo Yihu said respectfully.

Long Tiancheng went by the name "Third Master Long" to the outside world. Zhuo Yihu hadn't known his background before, but now he knew it all too clearly. He had thought the "Long Wudi" he encountered previously was high-ranking enough, but he never expected to meet the even more formidable "Uncle Long" today. He wondered what exactly Qin Chuan was plotting.

Zhuo Yihu was filled with trepidation, but Qin Chuan’s intimidation was far greater—especially the unknown pill he had been forced to swallow, which was likely a slow-acting, fatal poison. He had no choice but to suppress his fear and follow the plan.

Long Tiancheng nodded in satisfaction and said to Fu Tingxiu, "Tonight, you shall be the one to bring the Zhao sisters to keep me company."

Zhuo Yihu didn't find this strange; in his eyes, Fu Tingxiu was Long Tiancheng's trusted aide, so it made sense for him to escort the sisters. However, Fu Tingxiu felt a tightening in his gut. The fear of being dominated by Long Tiancheng the previous night rushed back, a stinging, humiliating sensation washing over him that made him wish he could vanish into thin air.

"What? Are you unwilling?" Long Tiancheng asked, displeased.

Fu Tingxiu quickly replied, "Third Master, you joke. It is my honor to serve you." Despite his extreme reluctance, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and agree.

A moment later, Zhao Ling'er and Zhao Cai'er walked onto the stage in vintage dresses. As the music began, they danced gracefully. Their movements were elegant, precise, and light, as if they were dancing to the most beautiful melody of life. Fu Tingxiu found his throat going dry as he watched.

"Third Master, are they to your liking?" Zhuo Yihu asked cautiously.

Long Tiancheng laughed with satisfaction. "Not bad, not bad at all. They suit my taste perfectly. Little Hu, you’ve really put in the effort. Don’t worry, I won't treat you poorly."

"Thank you, Third Master!" Zhuo Yihu replied with a fawning grin.

Long Tiancheng slowly stood up, eager to enjoy the two beauties on stage. He turned and asked, "Take me to the VIP suite. Have them come to my room to dance."

"Understood!" Zhuo Yihu gestured for them to follow. "Third Master, the VIP room is ready. Please, this way!"

Long Tiancheng’s smile widened. He instructed his two grim-faced bodyguards, "You two wait at the door. Even if the King of Heaven himself arrives, do not let anyone in without my orders."

"As you command!" the bodyguards responded in unison, their voices booming.

Zhuo Yihu’s eye twitched. He sensed extreme danger from these two men—a sensation he had only felt once before, from Qin Chuan. "I wonder if Mr. Qin can handle these two?" Zhuo Yihu was exceptionally anxious. He had staked his entire life on Qin Chuan; one misstep would mean his end. To say he wasn't afraid would be a lie.

Fu Tingxiu was equally uneasy. He had thought that by bringing Long Tiancheng to the Night Never Ends dance troupe for entertainment, he could avoid being ravaged himself, but instead, it had only stirred up a twisted desire in the older man. He felt a profound sense of having shot himself in the foot.

They arrived at the VIP room, which was fully equipped with custom entertainment tools designed for every peculiar craving.

"Third Master, I won't go in with you," Zhuo Yihu said, turning to leave, but the two expressionless bodyguards blocked his path. He looked at Long Tiancheng, confused. "Third Master, what is the meaning of this?"

"It means nothing, other than that a good show requires an audience. Little Hu, as the man in charge of this territory, you are naturally the most qualified spectator!"

Seeing the inscrutable smile on Long Tiancheng’s face, Zhuo Yihu felt a dark premonition. Knowing he was no match for the bodyguards, he followed them into the room. As the door clicked shut, the dim, seductive lighting only intensified his sense of dread.

"Third Master, let us sisters serve you and help you rest," Zhao Ling'er said softly, approaching first.

Long Tiancheng patted her hand and smiled. "No rush, beauties. Let me clean up the rat first, and then we shall share the night together."

Fu Tingxiu, realizing something was wrong, scanned the room but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you not going to show yourself, my friend hiding in the bathroom?" Long Tiancheng suddenly raised his voice, terrifying Zhuo Yihu.

Zhuo Yihu knew Qin Chuan had hidden in the room, but Long Tiancheng and his men had been in his sight the entire time—how could they have detected him? If he couldn't figure this out, and Qin Chuan suspected him of betrayal, he would be caught between a rock and a hard place.

After a long silence, no one answered. Long Tiancheng’s face darkened. "Little Fu, go open the bathroom door. I’d like to see how long this rat can hide."

Fu Tingxiu smiled and agreed, though he cursed Long Tiancheng’s ancestors in his mind. The old man not only abused him but now used him as a pathfinder in a dangerous situation. It was truly despicable.

Despite his reluctance, Fu Tingxiu walked toward the bathroom, flung the door open, and stepped aside. They all peered inside, only to find it completely empty.

Long Tiancheng frowned. Had his intelligence been wrong? He searched the room himself, but found nothing.

*Thump! Thump!*

Just then, Fu Tingxiu, Zhuo Yihu, and the Zhao sisters collapsed to the floor. Long Tiancheng turned to see them unconscious.

"There is poison in the air!"

Long Tiancheng held his breath, circulating his internal energy to flush the toxins from his system. However, in his agitation, a strange lump appeared on his skin, looking rather ridiculous.

"Oh no, the Third Master is in danger!"

The voice, previously elderly and frail, suddenly became young and resonant. The old man with the white beard ripped off his thin-as-cicada-wing mask, revealing the face of a swarthy middle-aged man. He rushed to the door, finding one of the bodyguards struck by silver needles and immobile, while the other had vanished.

"Third Master, where are you?" the swarthy man shouted.