Chapter 22: Sleepless Night

At the Jiang family villa, a knock echoed in the main study.

Knock, knock, knock.

Three raps, and Jiang Hanyu pushed the door open, his face expressionless. “Dad, you called me?”

“Have some tea,” Grandpa Jiang said with a chuckle, pouring a cup himself.

Grandpa Jiang’s routine was strict—bed by nine. Staying up late for tea wasn’t just casual. Jiang Hanyu knew the Red Devil Bar incident—Jiang Feng’s clash with Li Yuanjue, breaking his leg, and his arrest—had reached him. Grandpa Jiang hadn’t mentioned it, so neither would he. He sat across, sipping tea absently.

“Hanyu, ever wonder why I indulge Xiaofeng, even if the matter is big or small?” Grandpa Jiang asked.

Jiang Hanyu lowered his gaze, silent.

“Because I’ve never given up on him,” Grandpa Jiang said slowly, his cloudy eyes flashing sharply, locking onto Jiang Hanyu. “Just as I’ve never given up on you.”

Jiang Hanyu’s grip on the teacup tightened briefly. He smiled faintly. “Good tea. I should go.”

“Nothing to say?” Grandpa Jiang sighed inwardly at his attitude.

“Like what?” Jiang Hanyu replied.

“Like what happened at Red Devil Bar tonight,” Grandpa Jiang said. “I heard Xiaofeng broke Li Yuanjue’s leg—pulverized fracture. He’s crippled.”

Jiang Hanyu knew of the fight but not its severity. Frowning, he said, “He just kicked him once. How’s that possible?”

Grandpa Jiang found it odd too. Hoping for insight from Jiang Hanyu, he saw only confusion. “I haven’t visited the hospital, but the news seems solid. How it got that bad—only Xiaofeng knows.”

Jiang Hanyu stayed quiet. Grandpa Jiang continued, “Hanyu, haven’t you noticed? Since Xiaofeng left the hospital, he’s been… different.”

Jiang Hanyu nodded slightly—he’d seen it.

“If you think so too, I’m not mistaken,” Grandpa Jiang said. “Xiaofeng’s hiding something we don’t know.”

Jiang Hanyu gave a wry smile. “Want to know what?”

“No,” Grandpa Jiang shook his head. “Everyone has secrets—you, me, Xiaofeng. It’s normal. I called you to ask how we handle this.”

Jiang Hanyu smirked. “You’ve already decided.”

Grandpa Jiang gave him a knowing look. “We don’t interfere for now.”

Jiang Hanyu caught the subtext. 

Grandpa Jiang claimed disinterest in Jiang Feng’s secrets but was more curious than anyone. Too direct, and Jiang Feng would push back. Better to let him reveal himself. 

Hesitating, Jiang Hanyu said, “Fine. If you’re not rushing, why should I?”

*****

“New guy—make him feel welcome,” a police officer barked, shoving Jiang Feng into the detention cell.

The iron door slammed shut, cutting off the corridor’s light, plunging the room into gloom. A mix of foul odors hung in the air. 

Jiang Feng wrinkled his nose, chuckling bitterly. To think he, Young Master Jiang, would end up here.

Still, it didn’t faze him much. Compared to the cutthroat chases of the cultivation world, this was tame—safe, even.

The door’s clang stirred the cell. Someone laughed lowly, and a figure rose from a bunk, approaching.

“Hey, newbie,” the man said, chin raised, looming over Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng knew the officer’s words meant trouble—Lu Zhisen’s doing, no doubt. He glanced at the man: shirtless, muscled, a Brother Long tattoo sprawling across his chest, looking fierce. Frowning, Jiang Feng snapped, “Scram.”

The man cackled, turning to the others. “Hear that, boys? He’s telling me to scram. Let’s teach him some manners.”

Laughter erupted. Four more men closed in, encircling Jiang Feng, fists ready.

Jiang Feng found it amusing—wherever people gathered, hierarchies formed, even in a cramped cell. Scanning their reactions, he pushed the tattooed man’s shoulder lightly. “I said scram. Far.”

Short but sturdy, the man smirked, expecting Jiang Feng’s push to be weak—a chance to humiliate him. He braced to send Jiang Feng sprawling.

Instead, Jiang Feng’s gentle shove sent him staggering back several steps. His face twisted in shock. “A fighter?”

Jiang Feng didn’t bother replying, claiming a bunk and lying down. The others hesitated, thrown by his nonchalance.

“Brother Long, we handling this?” someone whispered to the tattooed man.

Brother Long snorted. “Damn right. Mess him up.”

He lunged at the bunk. Jiang Feng didn’t look, kicking out and flipping Brother Long to the floor. Standing, Jiang Feng stomped on Brother Long’s chest. Crack—ribs snapped. Brother Long’s scream echoed, freezing everyone.

“Sleep now?” Jiang Feng asked mockingly.

Brother Long hadn’t seen the move coming. Sweating, face red, he looked at Jiang Feng like he’d seen a ghost, nodding frantically. “Y-yeah…”

Jiang Feng growled, “Get lost.”

Brother Long scrambled away, not daring to think twice.

Many wouldn’t sleep tonight, but Jiang Feng did, waking refreshed at dawn.

The cell’s occupants, roused by Brother Long’s coughing, watched Jiang Feng rise. He ignored Brother Long’s state—last night’s mercy was enough; otherwise, Brother Long would be dead. Unfazed by their wary stares, he washed at the sink.

As he finished, clang—the door opened. Two officers appeared with buckets. “Breakfast!” one shouted.

The inmates grabbed their bowls, rushing to scoop food. Jiang Feng stayed put, the smell of the meal turning his stomach. It was basic—rice porridge, pickled vegetables, steamed buns. The hungry inmates squatted, devouring it.

Sitting on his bunk, Jiang Feng glanced at the door, noticing the officers’ sidelong looks. Expecting the Li family’s move, he studied them closer. Both were robust, their skin dark and rough—weather-beaten, unlike typical jailers. A faint danger clung to them—not a scent, but instinct. They’d killed before; it lingered.

Had Jiang Feng known cell rules, he’d have realized the door rarely opened fully, even for meals. Its wide gape now was wrong.

Even without that knowledge, he sensed trouble. These weren’t ordinary officers—likely Li family operatives. For others, pulling this off would be hard; for the Lis, it was child’s play.

Jiang Feng sneered. The Li family’s response was slower than expected but here nonetheless. He’d doubted they’d act inside a station, but their boldness—sending two dangerous men—meant they aimed to cripple him, if not worse.

If they thought this would take him down, they underestimated Jiang Feng badly.