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"Milo, what happened to your face?"

Yuzhen's voice brought Milo back to his senses. He forced a smile and touched his face when he heard Yuzhen's words.

“It’s here.” Yuuma pointed to Milo’s forehead, her big brown eyes brimming with tears. “Did you get into a fight?”

Milo had a habit of hating looking in the mirror, which he guessed was from the bruises from being hit by rye. But he didn't think it would be very obvious, otherwise Old Ruan would have noticed it immediately. Youzhen's hometown culture made him prone to exaggeration, and Milo couldn't do anything about it; after all, it was well-intentioned, so he could only accept it.

"Why are you back?" Milo started the conversation, but her eyes couldn't help but linger on the plague god across from her.

A hint of embarrassment crossed Yuzhen's handsome face: "My younger brother is sick, and I need to earn more money."

Wu Donggang can make quick money, but there are only a few ways to do so. Most likely, it's about going back to his old job as a hostess. Milo didn't point it out.

"What illness?"

"He has a heart condition. He needs a new heart."

Milo remained silent for a long time. A heart transplant requires more than just exorbitant medical fees; it also requires a donated organ that may never arrive.

Seeing Milo's silence, Yuzhen smiled and said, "Don't be sad for me. I've solved the problem. I can make a lot of money." He glanced around and tried to lighten the mood. "You used to like eating here. I've always remembered that."

Just as Milo was about to speak, a burly man carrying a tray rudely placed it on their table. His gold ring was exceptionally conspicuous; it was genuine.

The shop owner, Lao Ruan, kicked the person serving the food and bowed to Milo and Youzhen in apology.

"It's nothing," Milo said nonchalantly.

This man is Ruan Jiaming, the son of Lao Ruan. He has never been a proper worker and always seizes every opportunity to say that he is going to make a fortune. He is a gambler who loses all the money he wins by taking the ferry to the other side of Wudong Port.

Yuzhen stared blankly at Ruan Jiaming's back for a long time. Milo asked him what was wrong, and Yuzhen stammered that he seemed to have seen this person before.

Upon further inquiry, it turned out to be at Steven's private party, and coincidentally, at the underground shop that was hit by rye.

Yuma hesitated for a moment, but still spoke up: "You know about the bombing a week ago, right? Actually, it wasn't an accident, the news was fake."

Milo feigned shock.

Yu-chan doesn't have many friends. In the past, she would always tell Milo about any strange or unusual things she heard, while Steven, a seasoned player in love, appeared quite frequently.

Yu-chan started talking: "Steven was secretly doing business at the party. Some people were jealous and wanted to steal his money, so they vandalized his shop. The bombing was planted by Steven; he wanted to kill his enemies."

Milo couldn't help but laugh. Lanman's common language was English, but Youzhen didn't speak it very well. His serious manner only made him more adorable. Even though his rumor was far from the truth, Milo followed up with more questions.

"Do you know who damaged Steven's shop?"

Yuma lowered her voice: "Milo, you must not ask this question to anyone else. It was done by a terrible killer."

That's true.

But Yuzhen could never have imagined that the terrifying assassin was sitting steadily behind them, staring at them in the open.

Milo was about to tease Zhen when a bright orange McLaren screeched to a halt on the side of the road, interrupting him. Two half-drunk young men got out of the car, apparently having just finished drinking at some bar. They staggered to the restaurant entrance, asked the owner for water, but instead of water, they started vomiting.

Perhaps because their table stood out among the group of shirtless, rough men, one of the men, who had just finished vomiting, staggered over to their table, smiled, and looked them up and down, saying, "Handsome guys, haven't we met somewhere before?"

Yuzhen looked embarrassed. He felt it was his fault and was afraid of causing trouble for Milo, so he tried to get up and leave, but Milo grabbed him and stopped him.

"Wow, so intimate, holding hands! Actually, I like holding hands too, I really like that kind of thing. Handsome guy, do you want to come and play with us? We'll buy you some drinks."

Yu Zhen was at a loss, but Milo held his hand firmly and turned to the man with a kind smile: "What's the point of playing?"

The man who only wanted to play with chickens lost his smile, and the man who followed immediately pointed at Milo's face and cursed: "You piece of junk with a tech face, asking you is giving you face, do you really think you're someone important?"

Yuzhen couldn't understand the accelerated pace of the speech and could only judge the situation from a few profanities; in short, it was not good. He watched as Miloteng stood up without fear, blocking the shop owner who seemed about to come up and break up the fight.

The two drunk men, having been brazenly provoked, were too embarrassed to back down. They exchanged glances and decided they should teach Milo a lesson.

The people dining outdoors immediately scattered like birds and beasts, and no one dared to come in.

Just as one of them swung a punch, Milo dodged and hooked his foot, tripping the man who crashed hard onto a dining table.

The person sitting at the table remained completely still.

"Damn it!" The man scrambled to his feet, glanced at the hat-wearing man sitting in front of him, and cursed, "Damn it! You deaf bastard, you cripple, get the hell out of here!"

Milo silently stepped back, and he also noticed the hearing aid on Rye's ear.

Yuzhen grabbed Milo's hand and said anxiously, "Let's go quickly."

Milo grasped Yuuma's hand in return: "Wait a little longer."

Yu didn't know what to wait for, but the next second, he saw the fierce-looking drunk man suddenly howl. Before he could figure it out, another man pounced on the hat-wearing man sitting there eating, but before he could even touch him, his wrist was broken and he slammed onto the table with a thud.

"Alright, now, run!" Milo commanded.

Yu-chan was pulled away from the barbecue stall by Milo without her noticing, and the two of them ran all the way.

Yuma caught a glimpse of the fleeting smile on Milo's face.

The window of the orange McLaren parked by the roadside slowly rolled down. Steven, looking drunk, leaned back with a bandage wrapped around his left ear, gazing absently into the distance.

The black-haired man running under the streetlight at the street corner looked back at the road, and that face suddenly entered Steven's field of vision, causing his heart to ache sharply.

Her lips were red and her teeth white, like a piece of warm jade; her eyes, most remarkably, were deep and bright.

It is indeed beautiful, but its beauty is so exquisite that it reveals signs of artificial processing and is not truly rare.

Indeed, with such masterpieces preceding them, any later attempts, no matter how refined, are nothing more than crude imitations.

A cold smile crept onto Steven's lips.

"Should we go down and help?"

"Help my ass. Do you think you can get away with anything under that mad dog?"

"So... we're just going to leave them like this? They haven't even signed their contract with you yet. We've been supporting them for so many days. What if they get beaten up..."

Steven's gaze followed the figure running through the night, and he muttered to himself, "It really does look like one. I almost thought it was a dead person coming back to life."

"Like what?"

Steven ignored the question and kicked the back of the driver's seat in the front: "Quietly, follow the people running ahead. The shorter one, see where he lives."

When they arrived at the store, Milo didn't invite Yuzhen inside. The place, no bigger than a quail egg, was already shabby enough; he couldn't very well give Yuzhen two boxes of condoms as a greeting gift.

Yuzhen looked apologetic, repeatedly saying she would treat Milo to a meal next time they met. People from their area love to apologize a lot, so Milo smiled and took it as an agreement.

Upon entering, without pausing for a second, Milo opened a drawer. Banknotes and coins were mixed together, with brand-new banknotes stained with blood lying inside, looking out of place.

Milo's gaze fell on the few scattered bank cards.

The new bill Miles gave him was quite substantial, but he couldn't use it for anything other than his own.

After hesitating for a few seconds, Milo grabbed an old card, pushed open the door, and chased after Yuuma who was leaving.

“I’ve saved up some money over the years, you know that. So, don’t refuse.” Milo shoved the card into Yuuma’s stunned hand. “There’s no password.”

Milo has a mysterious sugar daddy, something Yuuma has always suspected, but the two never expose each other's shady lives.

Yu-chan turned around and hugged Milo tightly, his arms, comparable to those of an international male model, making Milo both laugh and cry. Milo could only pat his arm, feeling as if he were comforting a teary-eyed golden retriever.

"Thank you, Milo. I will definitely repay you."

After seeing Yu-chan off, Milo remembered to check the mountain of messages on his phone, nine out of ten of which were nagging instructions from Jesse.

Lost in thought, Milo noticed a message Miles had sent.

Miles never texted him.

Upon further investigation, it was confirmed that a call had indeed been made, which he did not answer, and the other party had not called back.

Miles' message was simple: Come see me.

Milo had no intention of delaying and planned to set off immediately.

The storefront was eerily quiet, meaning no one had visited.

The rye didn't follow.

Milo couldn't guess the man's intentions. Since he had let him go this time, he wouldn't really do anything to him for the time being.

Milo decided to be optimistic for once.

As night deepened, Milo stood at the store entrance. Ten minutes later, a black sedan pulled up smoothly by the roadside. Just as Milo was about to get on the road, a message popped up on his phone.

[^_^]

From an unknown sender.

Milo suddenly felt a chill down his spine.

He has very few contacts on this phone card, and he rarely gives it out.

This sounds like a threatening text message.

Who could have posted this? Who could have posted it?

Milo unconsciously tightened his grip on his phone.

This rye doesn't seem to be just a violent thug. The fact that he was able to find his private phone number after a week of investigation likely means he's thoroughly investigated his life story.

In the dead of night, there were few pedestrians, and the few scattered figures on the road all looked like rye.

Milo turned off his phone and got into the car.

Even if this rye is very capable, he is certain that the other party cannot step into Miles's territory.

The square-faced driver took Milo along a route he had traveled countless times, gradually driving from the semi-urban village area into the upper city, and then into the hillside villa area called Zhangtai.

After passing through the tunnel, a period of darkness followed, and then the true night slowly unfolded before him.

Milo stepped upstairs, and the transparent elevator gradually rose, offering a panoramic view of the entire Wudong Port nightscape—half mountain, half water, elegant and understated.

She knocked on the door, and an auntie opened it. Milo changed her clothes and shoes as usual, putting on pure white, a color that could only be seen in this house.

Cleanliness and discipline are Miles' principles for living and working, both for himself and for others.

There was no one in the main hall, but around the corner, Miles was standing next to the dining room, his sleeves half-rolled up, sobering up.

He was dressed in a soft, dark-colored loungewear, unusually casual. A light stubble of bluish beard graced his chin, and under the warm yellow light, he surprisingly didn't appear as serious as usual.

"They're here?" Miles looked at Milo.