End of World’s Businessman
Translator: Spring Flowers BL
At the dining table, toasts intertwined. The Second Young Master accompanied Father Wu with polite and well-placed words. He already had an exceptionally high natural tolerance for alcohol, and after awakening his supernatural ability to control water, he became even more immune to drunkenness. That night alone, he drank several kilograms of baijiu by himself, leaving all the other guests sprawled out after his repeated toasts.
The Chinese enjoy discussing business and strengthening ties over alcohol-laden dinners. After the meal, even those who weren’t close would start calling each other brothers. Once dinner ended, Father Wu handed out the gifts he had specially prepared for the occasion, confident that the deal with the food factory was practically sealed.
The gifts were jade jewelry that Wu Ye had brought with him. He had asked his mother to select high-quality pieces, but nothing overly expensive — the ideal balance. The small accessory boxes fit discreetly into one’s pocket. Some, eager, used the trip to the restroom as a chance to open them and peek inside. When they saw that each item was worth between 200,000 to 300,000 yuan, they were even more satisfied, murmuring to themselves that Wu’s father really knew how to do things right.
Except for Wu Ye, no one knew that most of those bracelets, pendants, and delicate earrings had been taken from corpses.
When he brought the jewelry, Wu Ye had also worried that they might carry the D-virus. So, he had all the pieces sterilized at high temperatures and meticulously cleaned them until they looked as beautiful and shiny as new.
With the gifts delivered and dinner over, the natural sequence followed: full stomachs, awakened desires. Father Wu suggested they all continue the evening at Metropolis of Desire (Midu) with more music and drinks. Of course, the singing and drinking were just a front — the true fame of the Metropolis of Desire came from its beautiful women: slim or curvaceous, talented and charming, including young models and minor celebrities. The atmosphere was upscale, with luxurious, discreet suites, a membership system, and strict privacy protection — it was the most famous brothel in the city.
They left the restaurant and arrived at the Metropolis of Desire in less than half an hour. Father Wu had already reserved a luxury suite. As soon as they entered, the stunning floor manager brought in a group of young models, wearing bikinis with short shorts that highlighted their sensual bodies. Under the flashing neon lights, the young and pretty faces — some with heavy makeup, others with soft tones — left the men in the room mesmerized.
Of course, with the exception of two men.
Father Wu was already used to these kinds of events. Singing and drinking with the women? Fine. But he never crossed the line. In his social circle, many called him "wife-whipped," and he took it with a smile, never getting offended. Many envied Wu’s mother. Now that he was older, he had even less energy for such things. He randomly chose a woman with an obedient appearance to sing and pour him drinks. Just for formality’s sake.
Wu Ye, on the other hand, had even considered finding an attractive woman there to relieve some stress and put an end to the wet dreams. But when he saw all those jiggling pale breasts, smelled their overwhelming perfumes, and heard their high-pitched, excited voices, he felt nauseated. Even though he wasn’t drunk, his head was already pounding. He picked a girl at random who seemed quieter and had her sit next to him to sing.
An Qi was new to the business. Her purer look wasn’t as eye-catching as the other girls', nor was her behavior as bold. She was relieved when Wu Ye picked her. Compared to the old perverts around, he was far more pleasant to look at. She calmly sat next to him, serving drinks and choosing songs. As the drinks flowed, the atmosphere in the suite grew heavier with innuendo and lust.
An Qi hadn’t joined the Metropolis of Desire just to serve drinks. Many like her fought for a spot there to find a “steady sponsor.”
She remembered seeing news of Father Wu publicly cutting ties with his eldest son. When she heard the names Wu Yong and Wu Ye, she quickly pieced together their story. An Qi believed in the saying, “A skinny camel is still bigger than a horse.” Even in decline, the Wu family would never be completely broke. If they had no money, would they even be able to enter a place like that? If they had no influence, could they gather those prominent figures that night? It was clear the Wu family was planning a comeback.
Whether they would succeed or not, she didn’t know. But she did find it odd that Wu Ye was still sitting so properly while others had already gone upstairs with their chosen girls. He just drank, made small talk, and sang — without any bold moves. Men like that were rare there, and he was young and... handsome.
An Qi felt tempted. Taking advantage of the moment when Father Wu went to the restroom, she leaned against Wu Ye’s chest.
Wu Ye had been to the Metropolis of Desire many times, but always with his close friends. That was the first time he attended a formal business gathering alongside his father. He felt deeply uncomfortable watching those old men drooling over the women and was already planning to tell his mother everything later. Suddenly, he felt a warm, soft body curl up on his lap, and a sneaky little hand rest on his groin.
Instantly, the Second Young Master’s expression darkened.
When he came with friends, he might call a few models to join him, but it was always just for singing, drinking, and innocent fun. He had never “deepened the relationship” with any of the women there. In fact, he even avoided physical contact. His friends often joked that he had a “purity OCD,” but Wu Ye felt he inherited that from his father.
Since he was 15 or 16, his parents always told him he could have fun but must not indulge in promiscuity. To scare him, his father even showed him pictures of patients with horrible venereal diseases. At the time, he was in love with **Lian Yu** and dreamed of living a happy life like his parents. Still young and easily influenced, he was so disgusted by those images that he never considered getting involved with other women — especially not the type found in places like that.
Because of that, he was often teased by his friends.
His face darkened for a moment, but remembering that he was there to “relieve stress,” he tried to fight the discomfort and thought about just going along with An Qi.
But before he could even kiss her, a soft and cold voice echoed in his ear: “A’Ye, I like you.”
Said Qin Wuhua.
…
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
An inexplicable and intense feeling of guilt made Wu Ye shove An Qi forcefully. He no longer had the strength he once did, but even so, An Qi was thrown backward and fell heavily to the floor. Her elbow landed directly on a glass of red wine, which shattered, and shards of glass instantly cut into her fair skin, making blood spurt out.
The private room was large, with music playing and people singing. Some middle-aged men were already visibly drunk, dancing and flirting with young models who could be their daughters. For a moment, no one noticed what had happened—except for the woman Mr. Wu had called. She had been distracted on her phone and only realized something was wrong when she heard the crash. She immediately dropped her phone and ran over to help An Qi up.
“Take her to get that treated properly. I’ll cover the cost,” Wu Ye said, his face expressionless. The coldness he had developed in the zombie world now came through naturally. His face—handsome, almost delicate and charming—when serious, sent a chill through both An Qi and the other woman.
“Mr. Wu, I swear I didn’t mean to.” An Qi was on the verge of tears. How could she have known he’d react so strongly?
The other woman, afraid the situation would get out of control and draw attention, tried to smooth things over. “It was just a fall, no big deal. Mr. Wu isn’t angry at you. But you’re really hurt… if that leaves a scar, it’ll be awful. Let’s go.” As she spoke, both she and An Qi looked at Wu Ye. An Qi’s almond-shaped eyes, sweet and innocent, were full of pleading.
The clients of the Metropolis of Desire (Midu) were all wealthy or powerful. Just being there was already difficult enough for them, and the first rule of the job was to never get into conflict with a client. No matter what happened—the client was always God, the client was always right. If they offended anyone, they could be fired on the spot.
Wu Ye didn’t want to complicate things further and waved a hand. “Go. Take good care of that. Don’t let it leave a scar.”
An Qi understood he didn’t want to pursue the matter. She thanked him repeatedly and left with her colleague.
Once they were gone, Wu Ye ran his hand through his freshly cut hair and unbuttoned his collar in frustration, feeling an inexplicable discomfort in his chest.
Damn it, why did Qin Wuhua have to start talking nonsense out of nowhere?! He’d nearly ruined his night! Made sure to turn the trip home into a horrible experience! When he got back… when he got back…
And when he got back, what would he do?
Reject him? But that faint sense of attachment in his chest… what was that?
Accept him? Damn it, he was straight! And just by looking, it was obvious that Qin Wuhua definitely wasn’t the “bottom”… No, wait, what the hell was he thinking? Shit, *QAQ*!
Wu Ye felt like he had both feet stuck in a swamp—the more he tried to escape, the deeper he sank. What the hell was he supposed to do? QAQ
In the second half of the night, Wu Ye clearly wasn’t in the mood anymore, let alone had the patience to pretend. He just sat there, lost in random thoughts. A few clients tried to chat him up, but he only responded indifferently. Mr. Wu, noticing his behavior, discreetly suggested that he go get some fresh air before coming back.
Wu Ye was already fed up with the atmosphere anyway, so he took the opportunity to slip out under the pretense of going to the restroom.
The Metropolis of Desire (Midu) was located on the outskirts of the city and, from the outside, looked like a beautiful European-style mansion, complete with a charming, well-kept garden. Wu Ye didn’t smoke, and the smell of cigarettes was starting to make him nauseous, so he headed straight for the garden on the ground floor, where the air was cooler and cleaner.
The osmanthus flowers were in full bloom, and their pleasant fragrance, mixed with other floral scents, was refreshing. Wu Ye wandered aimlessly, bored, until he bumped into someone he didn’t know well—but knew of.
“Young Master Wu, what brings you out for fun tonight?” said Zhao Jun, the owner of Mí Dū. His appearance was as ordinary as his name, but the sharp, commanding aura he exuded gave his otherwise plain face an indescribable masculine allure. Despite the name “Jun” (army), Zhao was more like a “bandit.” In the underworld, everyone respectfully called him the Crown Prince, and that title carried far more weight than the countless “princes” of the capital.
Zhao Jun was extremely capable. Not only had he completely taken over his father’s business, but he had also legalized and expanded it. But a criminal is still a criminal—no matter how much he tried to clean things up, Zhao still maintained a vast network of black and gray operations. Technically, he existed in a gray area between legality and illegality, with influence in both the underworld and the formal business world. Today, he wasn’t just one of the biggest crime bosses in the south—he also ran highly lucrative businesses overseas.
Even so, Zhao Jun kept a low profile. In recent years, business had become increasingly difficult, so he avoided drawing attention. He was trying to rein in his subordinates and gradually transform the more problematic parts of the organization.
The Mí Dū in this city was just one of his many ventures. Since it was his mother’s hometown, he often spent more time there. On the outside, many said the real owner of Mí Dū was mysterious and powerful. Wu Ye enjoyed coming there to have fun and had seen Zhao Jun a few times before, but their relationship was only superficial—just the occasional nod of acknowledgment.
Thinking about the rumors surrounding Zhao Jun, Wu Ye began to consider a few possibilities. He wanted to secure a steady arms supply. That was completely out of the question within the country, but abroad, the two biggest arms exporters were the U.S. and Russia. His father had always dealt with legitimate business, so he’d never had a chance to connect with arms dealers. And Wu Ye himself—always a model citizen—had no contact with that world either. Without someone to bridge the gap, how could he find a supplier? He couldn’t exactly walk around with bars of gold asking where to buy weapons…
At that moment, Zhao Jun seemed like a great option.
The problem was—they didn’t even know each other well. How could he bring that up?
Wu Ye thought about it for a while but couldn’t find a solution. So he simply smiled and greeted him politely. “Hey, Brother Zhao. Just came with the old man to hang out with some friends.”
Zhao Jun smiled back. “Then enjoy yourselves.”
When Zhao had walked away, his right-hand man and close friend, Shen Cong, joked, “That kid’s really good-looking, huh. Boss, not even a little interested?”
In the underworld, it was no secret that Zhao Jun liked both men and women—and in both cases, preferred the pretty and delicate types. There was no denying Wu Ye fit that profile perfectly. Zhao raised an eyebrow and looked at Shen Cong. “So in your mind, I’m some horny perv who sees someone my type and immediately wants a bite?”
Shen Cong thought: Well… yeah, basically…
But he said out loud, fawning: “Of course not, boss. You’re wise, powerful, and destined to rule the underworld for a thousand years…”
Zhao Jun looked at him with an exasperated expression and cut him off in disgust: “Enough. If I let you keep going, you’ll end up turning me into Dongfang Bubai¹. But… that kid does have something interesting about him.”
¹ Dongfang Bubai: A famous character from Chinese martial arts novels. To become invincible, he castrates himself and becomes more feminine, dressing as a woman. Often used as a joke to describe men who “give in” to femininity or who are sexually ambiguous.
He had crossed paths with Wu Ye a few times before. Because he was handsome and came from a powerful family, Wu Ye had caught his attention. The image Zhao had of him was that of a spoiled young man like so many others. However, today, he sensed a faint trace of blood and danger coming from him.
That kind of “scent” was something he had only ever noticed in people willing to risk their lives. If everything Wu Ye had shown before was just an act, and he managed to fool even Zhao Jun’s trained eyes, then he was far more complex than he appeared.
“Put someone good on his tail—discreetly. I want to know what he was about to say just now. He was right on the verge of saying something…”
“Got it,” Shen Cong nodded, muttering under his breath: “Hmph, and he still says he’s not interested…”
Zhao Jun heard him but couldn’t be bothered to respond. He strode back into the Mí Dū—he still had an important client from Russia to entertain that night.
Note: What a chapter this was... wow. Thank you for following this translation, English is not my first language, if there are any errors that hinder reading, let me know.
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