Chapter 3

I came back from Ling City.

The engine’s roar tore open the town’s night. This hard-edged off-road SUV was the kind of luxury my second brother dreamed of—and would never, ever reach.

It was like a glaring beam, lighting my way home while cruelly exposing the hypocrisy buried in this family. I’d believed that driving it into the yard might buy me a moment of peace—maybe even a trace of delayed kinship. My father’s and mother’s “repentance” had given me one thin lifeline in the dark. For my daughter, I was willing to step back into the mud.

“Third, you finally came to your senses!” Mother’s laughter was an icy spike, puncturing what little calm the air had left. She bustled around serving steaming dishes, yet her eyes kept weighing me—like she was appraising merchandise. Father, unusually, patted my shoulder. That “support” felt like a tombstone pressing down on my chest. Eldest brother offered a toy, but it was wrapped in cold calculation; he sweet-talked my daughter, while shrewd light flickered in his eyes.

“Third, if you’ve really got ability—really got money—stop hiding it!” Second brother’s voice slid over like grease. His eyes locked on my car keys, greedy enough to swallow me whole. “We’re brothers. We stick together and live good!” The “we” in his mouth was a blade, slicing through my last layer of restraint.

For a split second, I almost blurted out the truth—my identity that once shook nations. I had commanded armies, been looked up to by countless men… and now I was forced to act like a powerless, broke ex-soldier in front of one fake smile after another.

But my daughter’s weak breathing in my arms pulled me back to reality.

No. Absolutely not. I couldn’t drag her into blood and fire.

I swallowed the killing intent surging in my chest and forced out a smile—uglier than crying. My daughter leaned against me, tugging at my shirt as if she could feel the rare “warmth,” yet in those clear eyes, a flicker of unease flashed.

Late at night, she fell asleep in my arms. I couldn’t sleep. Thirst burned my throat, so I got up to get water.

Passing my parents’ bedroom, a thin line of light seeped through the crack under the door. Low whispers followed it—slithering into my ears like a venomous snake.

“Look at that car—he’s definitely been hiding money all these years!” Mother’s voice carried a sickening excitement, like a gambler counting dirty winnings. Every word was hunger for cash.

“Yeah. If we didn’t sweet-talk him back, who’d bring money into this house?” Father’s voice answered—cold, merciless, like a judge’s verdict. He wasn’t the man who once sheltered me from wind and rain. He was a collaborator.

Every muscle in my body snapped tight. My blood felt like it froze. I stood there like a petrified statue.

Then the next line came like a dull knife ripping my chest open, tearing every disguise and every hope into shreds—

“When he was showering, I searched his old uniform. Guess what—I found a bank card inside! The zeros on it… you can’t even count them all!” Mother’s voice was greed and cunning at their purest.

“So much money… maybe have Jackson help move it. No trace…” Father’s voice trembled—excitement and fear tangled together in the face of a fortune.

Thunder cracked inside me. Every fantasy shattered. I dropped into a pit with no bottom.

Blood flashed across my eyes. Cold, lethal intent rolled off my skin. I clenched my fists so hard my nails nearly pierced my palms. Warm liquid spread in my hand, yet it couldn’t match the sour pain in my chest.

At dawn, I held my daughter like the only treasure on earth and carefully pushed the door open.

I had to leave. Now.

Far away from this rotten cage soaked in malice.

Her pale cheek pressed to my chest. She seemed to sense the chill that filled this house, too.

But before my foot even cleared the threshold, a black shadow slammed into my path.

“Trying to run?” Second brother’s voice rose behind me—dark, satisfied, the sound of a hunter catching prey. A vicious curve tugged his mouth. His eyes were naked threat, like a scorpion locked on its meal.

My heart sank. Every ounce of alertness snapped to full.

Behind him, two huge silhouettes stepped out of the dark—like moving iron towers. Each step tightened a wire around my nerves. The air congealed.

Instinctively I wrapped my daughter tighter—like a tiger cornered with nowhere to retreat. The battle intent sleeping inside me woke in an instant. My muscles drew taut, ready to strike.

“Take his card!” Second brother barked, his voice a brutal command.

One thug lunged—not for me, but straight for my daughter. His hand grabbed her by the collar and yanked her up.

She choked instantly. Her face flushed red, legs kicking weakly in the air, a tiny, painful whimper leaking out. Like a fledgling with its throat crushed, she struggled toward death in front of my eyes.

My pupils shrank.

The power inside me—enough to crush everything—was sealed shut in an instant.

My daughter’s life was my only weakness. And it was the sharpest knife they had.

My veins almost burst. Rage and despair fused into a firestorm, burning down my reason. I roared—but another thug used the moment to pin me. With filthy fingernails, he dug into my inner pocket and ripped out the bank card that carried my daughter’s chance to live.

“Money’s in hand. She can get lost too!” Mother’s voice rang with triumphant delight. She snatched my daughter from the thug and flung her back down roughly. My daughter screamed, reaching for me with both hands, eyes full of terror and confusion—those eyes stabbing my heart like knives.

I was dragged into the basement.

Second brother’s arrogant laughter filled my ears, along with the thugs’ heavy breathing. The iron door slammed shut. Darkness and despair flooded in and drowned me whole.

Outside, my daughter’s gut-wrenching cries—“Daddy!”—were poisoned blades stabbed into my heart again and again. As Mother’s footsteps carried her away, the last light inside me went out.

That despair was colder than death.