What to do if you're forced into love by a powerful man?!

Xie Zhizhou started feeling sleepy after lunch. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and his head began to nod. Finally, he leaned on Zong Ran's shoulder and mumbled, "So sleepy."

Zong Ran carried him back to the bedroom and placed him on the bed. He took off his coat and shoes, pulled the blanket up to his chest, and then bent down to kiss him on the forehead.

Xie Zhizhou turned over and buried his face in the pillow.

Zong Ran stood by the bed for a moment, making sure he was sound asleep before turning around and leaving the bedroom.

Chen Du was already waiting in the corridor, holding a tablet and reporting in a low voice: "Master, the car is ready, and A Gui and Lao Mo are waiting downstairs."

Zong Ran nodded, took the coat Chen Du handed him and put it on. He fastened his cufflinks as he walked downstairs, his tone returning to its usual calm: "I'm going out for a bit. If he wakes up and asks, just say I'm taking care of something and I'll be back soon. Tell him not to wander around, to have the kitchen make whatever he wants to eat, and not to play games for more than two hours."

Chen Du noted everything down and escorted Zong Ran to the main building entrance.

Five black SUVs were neatly parked in the square, while the other four vehicles were filled with plainclothes bodyguards, whose earpieces were flashing a faint red light.

Ah Gui stood by the back door of the middle car, and Lao Mo stood next to the passenger seat. When they saw Zong Ran come out, they both straightened up.

Zong Ran bent down to get into the car. He glanced at the window of the bedroom on the third floor, then looked away and said to A Gui, "Let's go."

With a deep roar, the convoy drove through the tree-lined avenue and out of the manor gates.

The convoy passed through an abandoned industrial area on the western outskirts of Haicheng and slowed down in front of an old factory building.

The factory looked no different from the surrounding buildings slated for demolition, but the heavy trucks parked at the entrance and the rotating surveillance cameras in the corner revealed its true identity.

Five black SUVs filed in. Inside the factory, there were already quite a few people waiting, all dressed in black suits, standing neatly in line. They all lowered their heads when they saw the convoy enter.

Ah Gui got out of the car first, opened the back door, and Zong Ran bent down to get out of the car. He raised his hand to fasten the middle button of his suit jacket. Today he was wearing a very well-tailored black suit with a crisp white shirt collar. He was not wearing a tie, and one button of his collar was undone, revealing a small section of his sharp collarbone below his Adam's apple.

Old Mo got out of the passenger seat and followed Zong Ran half a step behind him, one on each side of A Gui.

The doors of the four cars behind opened simultaneously, and more than a dozen tall bodyguards filed out, all dressed in black suits and sunglasses, their steps perfectly synchronized.

Zong Ran strode into the depths of the factory, his suit trousers swaying slightly with each step, his shoulders and back forming a broad and sharp silhouette under the well-tailored suit.

As he passed by, the people waiting in the factory lowered their heads one after another, no one daring to make a sound, and even their breathing was extremely soft.

Zong Ran walked at the front, followed by A Gui and Lao Mo, and then a dozen bodyguards in suits. It was as if he were walking a show that only he could hold the fort.

At the far end of the factory stood a group of people, led by a man in his fifties wearing a dark brown leather jacket, a thick gold chain around his neck, and an unlit cigar between his fingers. Behind him were dozens of thugs who sized up the people Zong Ran had brought with hostile eyes.

This man is named Cao Wei. He has been involved in smuggling in Haicheng for over twenty years, specializing in smuggling along the border. Last time, Feng Biao intercepted Zong Ran's goods, and it was Cao Wei who instigated it.

After Feng Biao was executed, Cao Wei quieted down for a while, but recently he has started to make trouble on the border again, seizing goods from several of the Zong family's transport lines.

Today's negotiations were initiated by Cao Wei, who asked someone to deliver the message.

"Mr. Zong, it's been a long time." Cao Wei put a cigar in his mouth, and his henchman immediately stepped forward to light it for him. He exhaled a puff of smoke, leaned back against the shipping container, and said with a lazy yet arrogant air, "You've come all this way, it must be tiring. I invited you here today to talk to you about the southern route. The Zong family has too big an appetite; we have to leave some room for others, right?"

Zong Ran stopped and stood a few steps away from him, his gaze calm and cold, as if he were looking at something insignificant.

"Cao Wei," Zong Ran said coldly, "I haven't settled the score with you for bribing Feng Biao to intercept my goods last time. Do you think you can just let this go after lying low for a while?" Cao Wei's smile froze for a moment, but he quickly regained his nonchalant attitude, spreading his hands and shrugging: "Who is Feng Biao? Mr. Zong, you can't just say things like that. I, Cao Wei, have always done things openly and honestly. As for intercepting goods, I'm afraid someone has been whispering something in your ear."

He took a step forward, lit his cigar between his fingers, and his tone became increasingly arrogant. "As for you, Mr. Zong, you dominate that line in the south, making a fortune while your brothers can't even get a sip of soup. Since you're here today, let's be frank—give up three points, and I promise we'll keep to ourselves from now on."

Zong Ran stood still and tilted his head slightly, as if he had heard an extremely absurd joke, and the corner of his mouth curled up in an extremely cold smile.

The smile was so brief it was almost invisible, but the thugs behind Cao Wei tensed their shoulders at the same time.

"Don't you recognize Feng Biao?" Zong Ran sneered. He reached out and took a photo from A Gui's hand, held it between two fingers and tossed it forward. The photo tumbled twice in the air and landed on the ground at Cao Wei's feet.

In the photo, Feng Biao and Cao Wei are sitting side by side on a sofa in a private room, holding wine glasses and smiling broadly.

"You had a few drinks with him a few months ago, spoke on the phone a few times, and your driver picked him up from the airport." Zong Ran paused. "Now you're telling me you don't know him?"

Cao Wei glanced down at the photo at his feet, and the smile on his face finally vanished.

Before he could come up with another excuse, Zong Ran continued, "Later, he knelt down and begged me to spare his life."

He took the second photo from A-Gui and casually tossed it at Cao Wei's feet, placing it next to the first one—in that photo, Feng Biao was lying on the ground with a bloody bullet hole in the center of his forehead.

Zong Ran glanced down at the photo, then looked up at Cao Wei, a chilling smile playing on his lips: "Do you know what the biggest difference is between you and him?"

Without waiting for Cao Wei's reply, he gave the answer himself: "At least he had the chance to kneel down and beg me, but you won't even have that chance."

Cao Wei's smile finally vanished. The cigar in his mouth trembled, and the dozens of thugs behind him subconsciously took a half step forward, but none of them dared to make the first move.

The bodyguards in suits behind Zong Ran remained standing still, completely ignoring the thugs.

"As for the southern line," Zong Ran continued, his voice cold, "my Zong family has been entrenched in this territory for over a hundred years. Generations of people have paved this road with their lives. What are you, Cao Wei, to think you can make me give up three points?"

He slightly raised his chin, his eyes looking at an ant blocking the wheels of a car. "You've been on this line for twenty years, and all you've done is pick up scraps I'm too lazy to clean up. You dare to stand here and negotiate with me today? Do you think my temper has improved, or do you think your life is tougher than Feng Biao's?"

Cao Wei's face turned pale and then flushed, his fingers gripping his cigar tightly.

He wanted to say something harsh, but he trembled and didn't know what to say. Every word Zong Ran said was like a precise straight punch to his most vulnerable spot.

He knew perfectly well how long Feng Biao had been hiding after his previous incident. The reason he dared to take the initiative to meet with Zong Ran this time was simply because he was betting that Zong Ran was short-handed in the south and wouldn't easily turn against him.

But looking at Zong Ran's expressionless face, he suddenly realized that he had made a mistake, but there was no turning back now.

Zong Ran withdrew his gaze, as if he had lost interest in the conversation.

The instant he turned around, Cao Wei slammed his cigar to the ground and roared, "Attack!"