Qin Hongyi took a deep breath and nodded.
The computer booted up.
Green code jumped on the screen.
“What are you doing?” Qin Hongyi stood behind him with arms crossed, “All my accounts are frozen, can’t move a cent. Without money, I don’t even have a say in the board.”
“Who said we’re using your money?” Gu Chen’s ten fingers flew, keyboard clacking into afterimages.
Though these hands were slender and delicate, they carried a ruthless edge when typing code.
Complex commands inputted one after another, the screen popped up a pitch-black login interface.
No logo, just a blood-red fang icon.
Qin Hongyi was slightly surprised: “This is the Taotie Fund?”
The most mysterious short-selling institution in rumors, three years ago swallowed billions in a financial storm, bankrupting countless conglomerates like an abyssal maw.
“Didn’t expect President Qin to be so knowledgeable.”
Gu Chen chuckled lightly, hitting the final enter key.
Access granted.
Interface jumped, a dizzying string of numbers appeared in the balance column.
That was cash flow enough to buy half of Beijing.
“This is my private stash.”
Gu Chen turned his head, looking at the stunned Qin Hongyi, “Back then, my backup against the Gu family old fogies, didn’t think it’d be used on you first.”
“Qin Mu cares most about the Qin Corporation, right? About the stock price?”
Gu Chen’s eyes chilled, fingers slamming the keyboard hard.
“Then I’ll make him watch his empire crumble at his most triumphant moment.”
The next ten minutes turned Ghost Hand’s small clinic into a battlefield.
Gu Chen seemed transformed.
No longer the canary needing to rely on others, but back on his throne, the commercial tyrant who covered the skies with one hand.
“Short Qin Tech, max leverage, smash it to death.”
“Release evidence of Qin Mu’s embezzlement over three years, send to the securities commission, cc every independent director.”
“Contact overseas media, I want fake news of Qin facing antitrust probe in half an hour, titles as sensational as possible.”
Commands spat from that cherry mouth, precise and venomous.
Qin Hongyi watched Gu Chen’s profile.
The computer’s blue light reflected on that stunning face, plating the originally delicate beauty with sharpness.
This strategizing, laughing as enemies turned to ash vibe, too like the old Gu Chen.
Even more alluring than the old Gu Chen.
Because now he had a fragility that made one want to destroy yet forced submission.
“Done.” Gu Chen hit enter one last time, body like drained, limply slumping on the desk, “The rest is watching Qin Mu cry for mommy.”
As soon as he spoke, Qin Hongyi’s phone rang.
It was Qin Mu.
The Second Master Qin who was aggressive to capture earlier, now sounded like a drowning man, panicked as hell:
“Hongyi… Hongyi! Misunderstanding! All misunderstanding! The board decision is invalid! We’re family, can’t we talk nicely? The stock… stock’s limit down! Where are you? Second Uncle comes personally! Second Uncle was wrong!”
Qin Hongyi looked at the phone, then at Gu Chen slumped panting on the desk.
An unprecedented thrill rushed to her crown.
Not just from revenge, but because this blade was hers.
She hung up directly, pulled the SIM, tossed into nearby strong acid reagent bottle.
Sizzle.
White smoke rose.
“Young Master Gu, good moves.”
Qin Hongyi walked behind Gu Chen, hands on chair back, circling him in her arms, “But using so much funds, exposing your cards, what return do you want?”
Gu Chen struggled to lift his head.
High-intensity mental work accelerated metabolism, that maddening hunger and emptiness hit again.
Vision blackening, whole body heating.
He could feel, the beast just calmed inside started scratching the door again.
“I want…” Gu Chen’s voice hoarse, eyes unfocused, “…I want food.”
“Food?” Qin Hongyi asked knowingly, fingers tracing Gu Chen’s scorching earlobe, “The raw beef earlier not enough?”
“Not that.” Gu Chen gripped Qin Hongyi’s sleeve hard, sanity teetering on collapse.
He hated this body, hated this tail-wagging instinct, but body honestly leaned to the heat source, integrity shattered.
“Then what?”
Qin Hongyi leaned close, red lips almost on his cheek, “Say clearly. How can I feed if not clear?”
Gu Chen panted heavily.
Damn.
This woman was deliberate.
“Blood…”
Gu Chen squeezed through gritted teeth, eye corners red as dripping blood, “Give me… blood…”
“Beg me.” Qin Hongyi looked down.
Gu Chen froze.
Beg her?
He was Gu Chen! Capital prince! How could he like a dog…
“Seems Young Master Gu not hungry enough.” Qin Hongyi moved to leave, “Ghost Hand, get him glucose, don’t starve.”
“Don’t go!”
Gu Chen instinctively reached, hugging Qin Hongyi’s waist.
Face buried in her abdomen, deeply inhaling the cold fragrance.
Dignity?
Before survival instinct, dignity was shit.
When I survive, settle with you!
“Please.”
Gu Chen’s voice trembled, with sob, a shatter forced to extreme, “Qin Hongyi… please… feed me…”
Qin Hongyi smiled.
Smiled like a triumphant demoness.
She lifted Gu Chen’s chin, looking at those eyes full of longing.
“Good boy.”
She bit her finger, not feeding directly, but pressed the bloody finger to Gu Chen’s lips, like applying lipstick.
“Open.”
Gu Chen trembled open, taking the finger.
Rusty taste spread in mouth.
Qin Hongyi watched Gu Chen’s greedy sucking, eyes deep.
“Gu Qingcheng, remember this taste.”
“From today, your life, soul, breath, all mine.”
“Want blood? Sure.”
“Call master first.”
Gu Chen of course didn’t.
Rusty taste dispersed in mouth, with Qin Hongyi’s unique domineering warmth, sliding down esophagus to stomach.
The restless gene chain like paused, that sanity-burning heat rapidly ebbed.
Gu Chen released the finger.
He limply leaned in Qin Hongyi’s arms, eyelids heavy as glued.
Earlier operations drained mental and physical to limit, now even moving a finger tiring.
“No response?”
Qin Hongyi withdrew the wet finger, fingertip smearing blood on his cheek, eyes dangerous, “Young Master Gu’s bones pretty hard.”
Gu Chen struggled to lift eyelids, those finally black eyes no fear, but mockery, voice weak, words punchable:
“President Qin wants calls? Out left to pet store buy a Teddy, give bone calls all night, with electric butt.”
“You.” Qin Hongyi laughed in anger, fingers about to press.
Clap, clap, clap.
A sinister applause abruptly cut the bloody intimacy between them.
“Brilliant, this play, truly epic.”
From the blasted door cavity walked a man.
Not burly thug, but middle-aged in deep gray Zhongshan suit, twirling agarwood prayer beads.
Buddha.
The earlier doorkeeper.
But his entourage far from benevolent.
Twenty fully armed black-clad bodyguards fanned out, short-barrel black muzzles instantly sealing all surgery room escapes.
At rear, two techs with laptops, panicked like saw ghosts.
“Miss Qin’s move beautiful.”
Buddha smiled stepping over mercenary corpses, gaze sweeping mess, finally nailing Gu Chen’s demonic stunning face, “And this Miss Gu? No, since playing Qin in palm, should honor as Strategist Gu?”
Qin Hongyi subconsciously shielded Gu Chen, hand to waist.
Empty.
Gun lost in earlier melee somewhere.
“Buddha wants to eat black?”
Qin Hongyi back straight, even bloodied face, tattered clothes, conglomerate head’s ruthlessness undiminished, “Qin family cleaning house, Night Color small temple, fit this big Buddha?”
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