"Boss, the Elite Club's expanding fast," Li Yuanfeng reported. "Tang Hanying, Qian Feihe, and their lot jumped ship, badmouthing Yangtian League left and right. More folks are asking to bail. What's the plan?"
It was a real problem. Yangtian League was already shorthanded, and after Tang Hanying's crew defected, taking half the members, daily operations were stretched thin. The Elite Club's aggressive growth, led by the formidable Lin Kuang and Lin Zhouwei brothers, was stealing the spotlight. To many, they outshone Zhengyang by a mile.
"Old Fourth, your take?" Zhengyang asked, turning to Xu Si.
Xu Si paused, thoughtful. "Boss, let 'em go. If their hearts aren't with us, keeping them's pointless. No destruction, no creation—let's break it down completely. The world's got no shortage of people. Talent's everywhere. With enough cash, we can rebuild anytime."
Zhengyang nodded, decisive. "Do it Old Fourth's way. Whoever wants out, let them walk—but they're banned from Yangtian forever. I want loyalty, not numbers. Money? Don't sweat it. It's coming soon. Let's make this work!"
His aunt had called days ago. After months of testing, the new operating system was live and launching next week. This revolutionary tech would crush Microsoft's dominance—Zhengyang had zero doubts about the profits rolling in.
"Boss, we won't let you down!" the group vowed, voices ringing with commitment. Only Sun Xiaohu stayed silent, waiting until the others quieted. "Lei Shao," he said, "I've got some friends—tough guys, skilled. If you'll take them, they'd be a big boost."
Everyone knew Xiaohu's crowd—streetwise, battle-hardened types, likely dodging jail or constant surveillance. Yangtian could be their safe haven, a way out of the grind. Zhengyang grinned. "No issue there. Real talent's always welcome. But hear me: quality over quantity. I want elite players, not dead weight."
After divvying up tasks, Zhengyang headed home.
Dusk had settled, but the Lei household buzzed with life. All his uncles were there, lounging in the hall, laughing freely—a rare sight, only possible because Old Master Lei wasn't around. When the old man was present, the uncles turned cautious, almost stiff.
Zhengyang spotted Third Uncle Qiuping, his face a patchwork of bruises, yet he was animated, raving about something with infectious glee. One look at his expression told Zhengyang: he'd won over the "Female Tyrant," Wu Xiaomin.
"Zhengyang, you're back!" Xu Miaoli called, abandoning the group to rush over, inspecting him head to toe. "You rascal, always stirring trouble. When Grandpa comes out, you'd better explain yourself, or it's the family stick for you!" Relieved he was unharmed, she relaxed.
Qiuping bounded over, grinning through his swollen face. "Zhengyang, big news! I sealed the deal with your Third Aunt. Tomorrow, I'm asking Grandpa to propose. Next month, she's joining the Lei family!"
Zhengyang smirked. "Third Uncle, you got it backward. Looks like she tamed you. That face—still got the evidence, huh?"
Qiuping rubbed his bruises, sheepish. "Who tames who doesn't matter. Point is, she's marrying into the Lei family. I'm the winner here—no need to nitpick."
The other uncles chuckled, intrigued by Qiuping's conquest of the fierce Wu Xiaomin. Eldest Uncle Lei Chunping's tone turned serious. "Zhengyang, what were you thinking? The North Wolf Gang stunt was reckless. You've dropped a massive headache on Grandpa. Black and white need balance—the North Wolf Gang played that game well. You've kicked a hornet's nest."
Qiuping scoffed. "Hornet's nest? A puny gang like them? You didn't see their arrogance—like they owned the world! I can't wrap my head around it. A small-time crew, acting so big—where's that swagger come from?"
Second Uncle Lei Xiaping cut in, measured. "Old Third, cool it. The North Wolf Gang alone's nothing, but their backers matter. Gangs like them don't grow without powerful patrons. Many are tied to capital families—it's not as simple as you think. And the Wolf King? He's no lightweight."
Qiuping bristled. "So what? Anyone steps up, I'll put a bullet in 'em."
Xiaping sighed, done arguing with his hotheaded brother. "Let's wait for Grandpa to sort this out." Fourth Uncle Lei Dongping chimed in. "It's done now. Focus on damage control. Cleaning up after Zhengyang and Old Third? Not our first rodeo."
Xu Miaoli clutched Zhengyang's hand, fierce. "Don't worry, son. I'll plead your case. I heard the North Wolf Gang framed you with Yingfei. They deserve a lesson—thinking they can mess with the Lei family and walk away?"
Chunping eyed the mother-son duo, tempted to lecture, but held his tongue. They wouldn't listen—why bother?
Soon, the study door creaked open. Old Master Lei emerged, and the uncles stood, greeting him respectfully. Xiaping spoke first. "Dad, what's the word? Old Third was rash, but with all the evidence and results, it shouldn't be too bad, right?"
The old man sat, fixing Qiuping with a glacial stare, sipping tea Xu Miaoli handed him. "Old Third, you're not a kid anymore. Why pull this stunt? There's a hundred ways to handle the North Wolf Gang—why drag the military into it? You know some folks are itching to yank the Fifth Military District's command."
Qiuping huffed, defiant. "Yank it then. I'm done eating their crap. I'd rather come home and mooch than deal with that nonsense."
Old Master Lei's hand twitched, itching to slap sense into him. In the capital's power game, military control was everything. The Lei family held two of the six military districts—a major edge. Losing one would gut their influence. Did this fool not grasp his painstaking efforts? Even in peacetime, military might amplified their voice. The state pushed civil-military separation, but for top leaders like Lei Yunbao, both were gripped tightly.
Xiaping snapped, "Stop spouting garbage! Losing the Fifth District would hit us hard. We settled this—year-end, it's decided by results. Pulling it now? They think the Lei family's a pushover?"
The old man sighed. "Lucky for this idiot, he's hooked Old Wu's daughter. Wu's a low-key guy, but his word carries weight at crunch time. Qiuping, butter up your future wife."
Qiuping's face reddened. "Dad, that's humiliating!"
"Then stay single forever," the old man shot back. "Your call."
Qiuping clammed up. The old man stood, turning to Zhengyang. "Zhengyang, to the study. I've got questions."
Xu Miaoli gasped, grabbing Zhengyang's hand, but he smiled. "Mom, Grandpa just wants to talk. Why so nervous? I'm fine."
The uncles exchanged glances. They knew Qiuping's mess stemmed from Zhengyang's prodding. Now, the old man likely wanted a private reckoning. Qiuping shot Zhengyang a grin, his bruised face twisting. Good luck, kid.