Finally back in China, the familiar, humid air of China washed over Zihan and Guo Min as they finally stepped off the plane. A week of pure, unadulterated escapism in the Maldives, now dissolved the moment their shoes touched the tarmac. A sleek black Maybach waited, polished to a mirror sheen under the airport lights. The uniformed driver greeted them with a short bow, swiftly loading their luggage before opening the door.
"Finally, back home," Guo Min sighed, leaning her head against the cool glass as the car glided into motion. The city lights blurred past, glowing like restless stars. "I love the Maldives, though."
Zihan's eyes flicked toward her, expression unreadable yet softened at the corners. "We can go back anytime," he murmured, voice low and certain.
Guo Min let out a light laugh. "Not now, at least. I've already abandoned the company for a week. And the Zhu Empire has been CEO-less long enough."
"The Zhu employees are capable." His tone was calm, smooth, as though he were stating a fact rather than reassurance. "It won't crumble without me for a few days."
She smiled faintly, about to retort but, her words were cut off by a sound so violent it split the world in two. A deafening crack.
The passenger-side window exploded inward, glass shards slicing through the air, catching the reflection of the neon lights like cruel diamonds.
Guo Min flinched, her breath catching in her throat. A second later came the smell, sharp and metallic. Gunpowder.
The Maybach jerked violently, spinning slightly as the driver's body slumped forward over the wheel.
Blood...thick, dark, and horrifyingly real...splattered across the dashboard.
Zihan's instincts kicked in instantly. His arm shot across Guo Min's chest, shielding her as he lunged forward. He shoved the driver's lifeless body aside and grabbed the steering wheel with a grip so firm the veins in his arms bulged. With practiced precision, he veered the car off the main road, tires screeching against the asphalt as the vehicle careened onto a rough side path.
"Hold on!" His voice was firm, commanding.
The Maybach shuddered to a halt, smoke curling from the brakes. Silence, then, the kind that roared in the ears. Guo Min sat frozen, her pulse hammering in her throat, shards of glass glinting in her hair.
Zihan turned to her, cupping her face, his tone low but steady. "Min. Look at me." Her wide, trembling eyes met his. "I'm here," he said simply. "You're safe."
He reached for his phone, dialed without hesitation. "Yufan." His voice was controlled. "Pick us up. I'll explain later."
Minutes later, headlights cut through the darkness. A black Jeep screeched to a stop. Yufan stepped out, his expression grim, while his driver quickly assessed the scene. Zihan almost carried Guo Min into the back seat, her body light, limp from the shock.
As they drove away, the night swallowed the wreckage and the bloodied Maybach that had nearly become their coffin.
Inside the car, Guo Min finally succumbed to exhaustion, curling against Zihan's chest. His hand brushed through her hair as he murmured something only she could hear. By the time they reached the city, her breathing had evened into sleep.
Yufan's eyes met Zihan's in the mirror. "What happened?"
"An attack." Zihan's voice was low and dangerous. "Probably from the same bastard who sent that gift box and the message to Guo Min during our honeymoon." He gave a short, mirthless laugh. "They're really testing my patience."
"... We'll talk when we get to your place then". Yufan let's out a breath before speaking. "The Zhu estate?".
"Yes, I don't want her to be alone with only maids for now, might be a perfect choice for mom to keep her company anytime she is free".
He paused a faint smile appearing on his lips, as he remembered how ambitious this little woman of his could be. "Can you get me some shadow guards, nothing will stop her from going to the office". He said asking for protection to accompany her into the danger zone she would inevitably seek out.
"Understood." Yufan dialed immediately, giving quiet, coded instructions. Reinforcements. Cleanup. Recovery of the car and retrieval of the body.
The Zhu Mansion.
The car rolled into the Zhu estate's private garage. Zihan lifted Guo Min in his arms, her face pale but peaceful in slumber. Inside, warm lights and polished marble floors contrasted sharply with the chaos they'd escaped.
Li Yan's delighted smile froze when she saw the faint bruises on Guo Min's arm. "Zihan, what..."
"She's fine, Mother," he said gently, but his tone carried an edge. "A small accident."
He carried Guo Min upstairs, laid her on the bed, and covered her carefully. A faint sigh escaped her lips when he brushed ointment onto a small cut near her shoulder. He lingered a moment, studying her, before quietly leaving the room.
Downstairs, his father, Zhu Zixuan, was waiting. "Study. Now." Zihan and Yufan followed silently.
Li Yan frowned as they left, but the elder Zhu placed a calming hand over hers. "Let them handle it."
In the Study.
The air in the study was heavy with smoke and tension.
"What happened?" Zixuan asked.
Zihan and Yufan explained everything, the ambush, the message, the death. Zixuan's jaw tightened with every detail.
"... So this isn't just seeking our attention, he or she wants Guo Min out of the picture". Zixuan spoke again. "Who dared to think they can bath the Zhu in misery". Zixuan laughed.
Yufan leaned back, expression grave. "This doesn't feel corporate. It's not a business rival." He paused, gaze narrowing. "…It's from the underworld."
Zihan's silence was deafening. His thumb brushed the edge of his watch, his mind already racing. He knew this was retaliation. A consequence of debts and violence from a past Guo Min didn't know existed.
The shadows in his eyes deepened, the kind that spoke of wars fought in boardrooms and blood alike.
Zhu Zihan's position as the CEO of the Zhu Empire was merely the visible tip of an iceberg, an empire of power, control, and precision. Beneath the polished veneer of wealth and respectability, he was far more than a businessman. He was a key player ...perhaps even the shadowed leader of an immensely powerful, international mafia network.
He didn't just play the game, he wrote its rules. His connections stretched across continents, buried deep within intelligence units, military branches, and elite organizations few dared to name aloud. He operated with the kind of efficiency that blurred the line between man and machine. For Zihan, a single call could mean the difference between life and death.
But unlike the common chaos of street criminals, Zihan's operations weren't drenched in the filth of drug rings or mindless bombings. He saw himself as law itself within the underworld, the hand that restored balance when others tipped the scale too far. Petty violence disgusted him. He moved like a general commanding an invisible army, enforcing his code with the quiet ruthlessness of a man whose every decision carried weight. And those foolish enough to cross him learned quickly that mercy was not a virtue he possessed.
"Have you told your wife yet?" Zixuan's voice cut through the silence like a blade, firm and unyielding.
Zihan's gaze flicked away, the tension in his jaw betraying his composure. The truth of his world was not something Guo Min could easily accept. With her, he had built something fragile, a brief illusion of peace amidst blood and ruin. "…No." The word left his lips, clipped and cold.
Zixuan's sigh was low but heavy. "Tell her, Zihan. Don't let this secret destroy what little trust you've earned. Better she hears it from you than from the world."
The words lingered long after his father and Yufan left the study. Zihan sat alone for a while, eyes cold but mind restless. He knew his wife, she was fierce, sharp-tongued, fearless. She wouldn't take betrayal lightly, even from him.
A humorless chuckle escaped him as he rubbed his temples. "This is going to be a problem," he muttered under his breath.
Descending the stairs, his eyes softened as they fell on the scene before him. Guo Min sat between his mother and his infuriatingly smug grandfather, her laughter brightening the room like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Mom, you won't believe it," she giggled, eyes sparkling. "Zihan's actually scared of heights...I think." Her tone was teasing, mischievous. "He couldn't handle a rollercoaster. The mighty Zhu Zihan almost screamed."
His mother laughed, his grandfather wheezed in amusement and Zihan only stand there for a moment, silently.
Because for the first time in a long while, surrounded by warmth and laughter, he felt the sting of guilt pierce through the armor he had worn all his life.