My cousin-in-law helped me achieve my ambitions.

The man on the right threw a punch, and Su Ming raised his hand to block it. His arm went numb, but he successfully deflected the attack. He then grabbed the man's wrist and used a joint lock.

"Ah! It's broken! It's broken!" the man screamed.

Su Ming released his grip, and the man knelt down on the ground, clutching his arms.

From start to finish, it only took a dozen seconds.

In the alley, four people lay on the ground, groaning all around.

Panting, Su Ming picked up the banknotes scattered on the ground. Two hundred-yuan bills, a little dusty, were intact.

He glanced at the person on the ground, said nothing more, turned around and quickly walked out of the alley.

He ran until he reached a brightly lit street before stopping, leaning against a telephone pole and panting heavily.

My heart is still pounding, and my arm is throbbing—I bet it's bruised from that block.

But he clutched the two hundred yuan tightly in his hand.

One is your own capital, the other... is what you won.

No, it was taken back.

Su Ming looked down at the banknotes in his hand, then looked up at the flashing neon sign of "Golden Years" in the distance.

My cousin's wife is still inside.

He didn't know what she was doing, why she went back, or what she meant by "having something to take care of."

But he knew that in this city, everyone had to rely on themselves.

Watch your eyes, watch your hands, watch your heart.

We also need to keep our fists in check.

He took a deep breath, carefully folded the banknotes, and stuffed them into the innermost part of his pocket.

Then, he turned around and walked towards the rented house.

He patted his pocket with satisfaction and laughed: "Tonight was pretty good, I made a pure profit of two hundred."

With the hard-earned two hundred yuan tucked in his pocket, Su Ming walked a short distance towards his rented room, mentally planning how to use the fake diploma to apply for a warehouse worker position the next day. He subconsciously touched his pocket, wanting to check if the "high school diploma" was still there.

Upon touching him, his face turned deathly pale.

The pockets were empty.

He hurriedly stopped and turned both of his pockets inside out—there were only a few loose bills and two crumpled hundred-yuan bills; there was no sign of his graduation certificate.

"Oh no!" Su Ming's heart sank.

It must have fallen out of his pocket during the fight in the alley. That piece of paper wasn't worth much, but it was his key to finding a job tomorrow. More importantly, it had his photo and name printed on it; if those thugs found it…

He dared not think any further, turned around and ran back.

Night had fallen, and the streets were much quieter. Su Ming retraced his steps, his eyes scanning the ground like searchlights—corners, sewer openings, next to trash cans—leaving no corner unchecked where something might have fallen.

The distance from the overpass to that dimly lit alley was only four or five hundred meters, but he found it incredibly difficult to walk. With each step, his heart sank a little deeper.

What if it gets picked up?

What if those thugs haven't left and are still guarding the place?

As Su Ming reached the alley entrance, he slowed his pace, held his breath, and peered inside—it was pitch black except for the faint light of a distant streetlamp. The alley was deserted; the group of thugs were gone. But the stools from their stall seemed to still be there. Could they be coming back?

Su Ming's heart leaped into his throat. He hesitated for a few seconds, gritted his teeth, and tiptoed inside.

One step, two steps.

His eyes strained to make their way in the darkness. By the faint light in the distance, he saw scattered chess pieces, an overturned stool, and spots on the ground—probably nosebleeds.

Then, he saw it next to a pile of broken bricks in the corner.

The folded graduation certificate lay quietly on the ground, half of it pressed under broken bricks, revealing its white edges.

Su Ming breathed a sigh of relief, quickly walked over, and carefully pulled out the red booklet. He unfolded it in the dim light and looked at it—the photo was still there, the handwriting was clear, but it was covered in some dust and the corners were a little wrinkled.

"Thank goodness, this treasure is still here! It's a lifesaver for finding a job. It's not as impressive as a college diploma, but at least it'll help me earn a living!"

He blew off the dust, carefully folded it, and stuffed it back into the innermost layer of his pocket. This time, he even pressed it down to make sure it wouldn't fall out.

After doing all this, he straightened up and prepared to leave.

"Young man!"

A voice suddenly came from the alley entrance.

Su Ming froze, then whirled around—it wasn't the group of thugs, but a middle-aged man pushing a tricycle. The tricycle was piled high with unsold clothes; he seemed to be a night market vendor, preparing to pack up and go home.

The man was probably in his fifties, with dark skin and deep wrinkles on his face. He pushed his cart to the alley entrance, stopped, looked at Su Ming, then at the traces of the previous fight, and shook his head.

"Not bad kung fu!" the man said, his voice hoarse and thick with a northern accent.

Su Ming didn't speak, but looked at him warily.

The man sighed and lowered his voice: "However, I advise you to leave this place as soon as possible."

"Why?" Su Ming asked, puzzled.

"You've offended someone." The man gestured towards the ground. "This group is from Hunan. They've been setting up a chess game under this overpass every day to swindle money, half-scamming and half-robbing, for years. Even the locals don't dare mess with them. The police have come several times, arrested them and released them, released them and arrested them again, but it's no use."

He paused, then looked at Su Ming: "You're something else. Not only did you not pay, you also beat up their men. Four against one, and you still lost. If word gets out, they won't let this go."

Su Ming's heart skipped a beat: "They...are they very powerful?"

"Impressive?" The man laughed, a bitter laugh. "In this area, they're the local bullies. They have all sorts of tricks up their sleeves, both overt and covert. If you beat up one of their men today, they can send a whole carload of them to ambush you tomorrow."

He pushed the cart forward a couple of steps, then turned back, his voice even lower: "That's all I can say. Take care. I'm leaving."

The wheels of the tricycle creaked and groaned as they rolled across the road, gradually disappearing into the distance.

Su Ming stood in the alley, a chill running down his spine as the night wind blew by.

The Hunan clique.

Local bullies. That doesn't make sense. These Hunanese aren't even locals here, are they? Is it because there are a lot of Hunanese people here?

They won't give up? Looks like this is going to be difficult!

The image of that group of thugs kept flashing through his mind. Only then did he belatedly realize that he might have messed with more than just a few street swindlers; he might have been dealing with an organized gang.

What should I do?

Run? Where can he run to? He hasn't found a job yet, and he has less than two hundred yuan left, not even enough to buy a train ticket.

Should I not run? What if, as that vendor said, a whole carload of people come and block him tomorrow... then I'm doomed?

What about my cousin's wife? Will this group also come looking for trouble for her?

What if it implicates my cousin's wife? She's a single woman, and it's already tough enough for her to make a living in this city. If she gets involved with these local bullies because of him…

Su Ming became increasingly agitated. He stood at the alley entrance for a long time until he heard police sirens in the distance—someone had probably called the police, and police cars were heading this way.

Without further hesitation, he turned and quickly left.

It was almost midnight when I got back to the apartment building. The windows on the seventh floor were dark; my cousin-in-law hadn't returned yet.

Su Ming went upstairs, opened the door, and turned on the lights. The empty living room was only filled with the fan spinning in vain, blowing out hot air.

He took a cold shower, changed into clean clothes, and lay down on the sofa in the living room.

The bamboo mat felt cool against his skin at first, but it was quickly soaked through by the sweltering heat. Su Ming tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep.

My mind raced through everything that had happened that day—the woman making fake documents, the chaotic scene under the overpass, the brawl in the alley, the vendor's warning… and my cousin's resolute figure standing at the entrance of "Golden Years".

What exactly did she do?

Why did she go back? Could my cousin-in-law be working at a nightclub? Impossible, that man named Jiang Jian would never agree to it if he knew she was in a place like that.

One question after another, with no answers. Su Ming felt as if a stone was lodged in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

I don't know how much time passed, but then I heard the sound of a car passing by outside the window, followed by the sound of high heels in the hallway. It was very soft, but exceptionally clear in the quiet night.

The key was inserted into the lock with a "click".

The door opened.

Su Ming quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

Qiu Tong entered the house quietly. She stood at the door for a while, seemingly to confirm whether Su Ming was really asleep, before changing her shoes and putting down her handbag.

The living room lights were turned off. Then, the bathroom door closed softly, and the sound of running water could be heard.

Splash, splash.

The sound of water continued for a long time. Su Ming lay on the bamboo mat in the room, his eyes closed, but his ears were perked up. He could hear the sound of water rushing across the floor, the slight clinking of the shower gel bottle being picked up and put down, and Qiu Tong's occasional soft sighs.

About twenty minutes later, the sound of water stopped.

The bathroom door opened a crack, and steam rushed out. Then, there were light footsteps, and Qiu Tong came out.

Su Ming couldn't resist and secretly opened his eyes a crack, glancing towards the living room.

Upon seeing this, he almost stopped breathing.

Qiu Tong, wrapped in a white bath towel, had just stepped out of the bathroom. The towel only covered her lower body, from her chest to her upper thighs, while her upper body... was completely exposed. She was incredibly white!