Chapter Three: Scattered Red Petals

The hospital's stark white lights pierced the night like a cold lighthouse.

Inside the dressing room, the smell of iodine was pungent and acrid.

The doctor carefully cut open the blood-stained cloth on Qiao Yuan's arm, revealing a wound where the skin and flesh were torn open.

Qiao Yuan remained expressionless as the tweezers probed in to remove the shrapnel; only the cold sweat seeping from his forehead betrayed his pain.

Just then, the door was suddenly pushed open, and Uncle Chen rushed in, looking calm but with a hint of panic in his eyes.

"How's it going at the branch?" Qiao Yuan asked.

Uncle Chen sat down, leaning on his cane, and said with a wry smile, "These people just want us to be the ones to take the lead. Now that you're gone, Master Qiao, everyone's become cowards. Who dares to step forward?"

"Just a bunch of loose sand," Qiao Yuan sneered. "Back then, Huang Jinhu had only been gone for a few days when he was already eager to join my ranks, but now these good-for-nothings are jumping up and down in a panic. What kind of people are they? They're not even worth being watchdogs."

The doctor paused in stitching, but Qiao Yuan seemed oblivious, staring intently at the winding bloodline on his arm, as if the wound were a microcosm of the gang's conflict.

Uncle Chen and Qiao Yuan didn't think much of the gang members. They chatted for a bit, but when Uncle Chen looked at his wound, fear rose in his eyes: "Who were the people who ambushed him? Could it be that the remnants of Golden Tiger haven't been wiped out yet?"

Qiao Yuan looked down at the gauze on his arm, where bloodstains seeped through the white fabric, leaving small dark marks. He smiled, his voice carrying a hint of coldness: "The remnants of Golden Tiger? They don't have the ability to cause any trouble."

Uncle Chen was taken aback. "Then who could it be?"

Qiao Yuan said, "At first, they were ambushing Lin Tang... If I hadn't arrived in time, she might have been killed. If I'm not mistaken, they were after me and Lin Tang."

"What?" Uncle Chen gripped his cane tightly, his knuckles turning white. "Are they crazy? They dare to touch you and Miss Lin?"

“It’s people’s hearts that are going crazy.” Qiao Yuan leaned back, the chair back creaking from its age. “Once the divorce papers are signed, all the land in Hongkou, the shops in Yuanchang Shopping Mall, and those bank shares I own—aren’t they all juicy pieces of meat? Sato of the Japanese Chamber of Commerce, Chen Kan’s Chen family, and those small gangs waiting to get a slice of the pie—who wouldn’t want to take a bite now?”

Uncle Chen frowned: "So...they want you all to die?"

"Either they die, or they hand over the benefits." Qiao Yuan looked up, his gaze icy. "But I won't let them have their way."

Uncle Chen looked at him and suddenly sighed: "Master Qiao, you and your wife..."

“Uncle Chen,” Qiao Yuan interrupted him, his voice lowering, “My affair with her is no longer just between the two of us.” He stood up, put his hands behind his back, and sighed softly, “This is a gamble, and the loser will pay with their life.”

Uncle Chen sighed, every wrinkle etched with helplessness.

Around dusk, Qiao Yuan was discharged from the hospital and returned home.

The osmanthus trees in the courtyard had fallen petals all over the ground, which felt soft underfoot, like a layer of crushed gold.

He had just pushed open the living room door when Cheng Qing lunged at him, grabbing his arm and digging her nails into his tattered long shirt: "Mr. Qiao! What happened to your arm? It was fine when you left this morning..."

Seeing her concerned expression, even though he knew it was fake, Qiao Yuan's heart softened a little, and his voice carried a reassuring tone: "It's nothing, I was just grazed by a stray bullet."

Cheng Qing's eyes reddened. She looked at him for a long time before lowering her voice and saying, "Mr. Qiao, Mr. Sato has arrived and is waiting for you in the study."

Qiao Yuan was taken aback, and his expression instantly turned arrogant. He raised an eyebrow and casually tossed his coat onto the sofa: "Achen, go pour a cup of tea."

Ah Chen responded.

The study door was ajar, and Sato's laughter came from inside: "Qiao-san, long time no see."

Qiao Yuan pushed open the door and saw Sato wearing a dark blue kimono with a silver pocket watch hanging from his waist, standing in front of the bookshelf flipping through books.

He turned around, a gentle smile on his face, carrying a gilded gift box in his hand: "I heard that Qiao Sang was injured, so I specially brought some ointment from Kyoto, which is very effective in treating gunshot wounds."

"Mr. Sato is quite well-informed." Qiao Yuan sat down and picked up the tea that Achen handed him.

Sato placed the gift box on the table and sat down opposite him. "I've heard about Qiao-san's recent troubles." He took out a slip of paper from his pocket and pushed it in front of Qiao Yuan. "Mr. Yamada from the Municipal Council is a friend of mine. I can help Qiao-san with the divorce proceedings."

Qiao Yuan glanced at the note, which contained Yamada's contact information. He calmly pushed the note back, saying, "I appreciate Mr. Sato's kindness."

“Don’t be so quick to refuse, Qiao-san.” Sato smiled and tapped his fingers on the table. “However, I have a small condition.” He paused, his gaze sharpening. “The three plots of land in Hongkou, and the ten shops in Yuanchang Shopping Mall, are mine.”

Qiao Yuan paused in his tea-serving hand, then looked up with a mocking glint in his eyes: "Mr. Sato certainly knows how to do business."

“Qiao Sang is a smart man.” Sato leaned back. “Once the divorce is finalized, how much of Miss Lin’s assets will you get? How about we make a deal? I’ll save you the trouble, and you give me what you want. We’ll both be happy.”

Qiao Yuan was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled: "I need to consider Mr. Sato's conditions."

“Of course.” Sato stood up and straightened his kimono. “Qiao-san can take his time to think about it, but I hope to get an answer as soon as possible.” He walked to the door, then turned back. “By the way, if Qiao-san has figured it out, feel free to contact me anytime.”

The door closed with a thud. Qiao Yuan stared at the gift box on the table, his fingertips crushing the teacup. The shards cut his hand, and drops of blood fell onto the coffee table like blooming red plum blossoms.

Ah Chen came in and, seeing the situation, quickly grabbed some gauze: "Master Qiao, your hand..."

"It's nothing." Qiao Yuan waved his hand to interrupt him, his gaze fixed on the night outside the window. "Go and find out who Sato has been in contact with recently."

Ah Chen responded and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." Qiao Yuan called out to him, his voice icy. "Also, keep an eye on Chen Kan."

Ah Chen nodded and left.

Qiao Yuan sat in the darkness, clutching a broken teacup in his hand. Blood dripped from between his fingers onto the ground, making a soft, crackling sound.

"Lin Tang..." he murmured the name softly, his voice carrying a tenderness he himself was unaware of, "In this game, I will not let you lose."

The wind outside the window carried the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms, mixed with the smell of blood, like a dream that hadn't yet ended.

As dusk settled, the cigar smoke in the study of the Qiao Mansion had not yet dissipated.

Cheng Qing stumbled and crashed through the carved door in her high heels.

"Master Qiao!" she said coquettishly, tears streaming down her face, but her words were like poison, "That bitch Lin Jintang made the divorce case headline news, and she even wants to take the land deeds in Hongkou! The Japanese are now giving you a way out, why are you doing this..."

Before he could finish speaking, the bronze-gilded lamp suddenly went out.

Qiao Yuan rose from the shadows, his long black satin robe gleaming coldly, the sandalwood beads on his wrist clinking softly. His left palm rested against the corner of the table, faint traces of blood seeping through the gauze.

"Get out." The low, hoarse voice, thick with the smell of gunpowder, startled the crows roosting in the locust tree outside the window.

Cheng Qing was stunned, and tears rolled down her cheeks. "She's thinking of you, why are you being so mean to her? Sister Lin isn't your wife anymore, Mr. Qiao. She's been having an affair with Chen Kan for a long time, and now she wants to take a share of your assets! The Chen family are high-ranking officials in the government. If you don't cooperate with the Japanese, you won't even know how they've eaten your bones!"

"Smack!"

A slap, accompanied by the force of the hand's movement, swept across Cheng Qing's face, causing stray hairs to flutter around her ears. The jade earring finally fell, shattering into two halves of a pale green crescent moon on the blue brick floor.

"My whole family died at the hands of the Japanese! I'd rather die than accept even the slightest favor from them. If you say another word, I'll kill you right here in this house!"

Cheng Qing felt a metallic taste in her throat, and the rouge at the corner of her mouth smudged into a broken azalea.

"Get out." The word was ground out of his throat, tinged with the stench of blood.

Cheng Qing staggered back to the door, then suddenly chuckled, "Master Qiao, you can't be fierce with Lin Jintang, so you can only be fierce with me, right? Haven't you thought about why she abandoned the 'Jin' in her name after marrying you? She told you long ago that following you meant losing her bright future, so why are you so stubborn!"

Thunder roared outside the window, and raindrops pounded against the glazed tiles.

Qiao Yuan grabbed the bronze paperweight from the table and slammed it against the wall.

"Get out," he said again. "Don't let me see you again."

Qiao Yuan looked around the house and saw traces left by Lin Tang everywhere. He felt extremely suffocated and walked out with his hands behind his back.

"Ah Chen, go get the car!"

Ah Chen parked the car under the porch.

Qiao Yuan opened the car door, his movement pausing almost imperceptibly due to the pain from the wound on his arm.

"Master Qiao?" Ah Chen cast an inquiring glance from the rearview mirror.

Qiao Yuan shook his head and said, "Let's go to the branch!"

To him, without the mistress, this place was like a soulless shell, filled with a cold silence and the ghosts of the past, leaving only empty corridors and endless chill.

The car eventually stopped in the back alley of "Xinghetang".

This so-called "gang" was nothing more than two storefronts joined together, with a faded sign hanging crookedly at the entrance, and inside, smoke filled the air and people were making a lot of noise.

Amidst the smoky atmosphere, several gambling tables were surrounded by people. Dice clattered in rough porcelain bowls, copper coins and silver coins jingled, and the wild laughter of winners and the curses of losers mingled together.

In the corner, several opium addicts lay sprawled on opium couches, puffing away, their eyes sunken, looking like ghosts. The air was thick with the sour smell of cheap opium, sweat, and leftover food.

When Qiao Yuan pushed open the door, the noise instantly subsided by several degrees.

The gamblers stood frozen in place, and even the addicts on the opium couch shrank back, the murky smoke seemingly solidified in the polluted air.

My footsteps paused slightly at the corner of the corridor. The wooden floor creaked, and the oil paper, already yellowed and peeling, trembled in the wind.