My Ares Son-in-Law

Xiao Chen wants to make those who have harmed Xinmeng Group pay a heavy price, to let them know that offending Xinmeng Group is like offending death itself!

Nanlai Group?

In Xiao Chen's eyes, it was nothing more than a stumbling block on his path of revenge that needed to be crushed.

Taxis, like nimble fish, navigate freely through the complex network of the city.

Initially, it traversed the bustling financial district, where skyscrapers stood tall and glass curtain walls shimmered dazzlingly in the sunlight, resembling a dream city constructed of steel and glass.

The streets were bustling with traffic, and pedestrians dressed in smart suits hurried along, their faces radiating confidence and busyness.

However, as the car continued to move forward, the cityscape gradually changed.

The skyscrapers disappeared slowly, like the receding tide, as if gently wiped away by an invisible hand.

Instead, there is a cluster of low, dilapidated residential buildings, which stand there silently like a group of old people forgotten by time.

The wall is mottled and uneven, with cracks like wrinkles on an old man's face, telling the story of the vicissitudes of time.

Colorful clothes are casually hung out to dry on balconies and by windows, fluttering gently in the breeze like brightly colored flags, but they cannot conceal the dilapidation and poverty of this place.

The street grew narrower and narrower, like a winding alley, only wide enough for one car to pass at a time.

The road surface was uneven, with stones of varying sizes and cracks everywhere. Driving on it felt like sitting in a rocking chair, constantly bumping and jolting.

Each bump caused the passengers inside the vehicle to sway and utter bursts of dissatisfied complaints.

The air was thick with a musty smell, like a basement that had been sealed off for years, emitting a nauseating odor.

The smell was a mixture of the sour stench of the garbage dump, a pungent odor that made you want to vomit, as if it were produced by countless rotting foods and waste fermenting under high temperatures.

There was also an indescribable chemical odor emanating from nearby small factories—a pungent, corrosive smell that made you feel like your respiratory tract was being burned.

The storefronts along the roadside were old and dilapidated, and the wooden signs had become worn and tattered from the erosion of wind and rain, with the lettering on them blurred and illegible.

The lights were so dim, like candles about to go out, that they could barely illuminate a small area in front of the shop.

There were few pedestrians, and when a few did pass by, they were all in a hurry. Their faces bore a numbness worn down by the pressures of life, and their eyes were empty and lifeless, as if they had lost interest in everything around them.

The driver seemed to sense the oppressive atmosphere as well, and he, who had been talking non-stop, became quieter.

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his fingers turning slightly white from the force, and his palms were slightly sweaty and damp.

He would occasionally steal glances through the rearview mirror at the young passenger in the back seat who had his eyes closed and was resting, yet whose demeanor was as cold and hard as a knife.

The passenger sat there quietly, motionless, like a cold statue, making people afraid to approach.

The driver's initial joy at receiving five hundred yuan was now replaced by a strange unease.

He always felt that this passenger was not simple and must have some ulterior motive for coming to this place.

This place is so quiet, so eerily quiet, it's unsettling, as if countless unknown dangers are lurking within.

Finally, after winding its way through narrow alleys for a long time, the car stopped at the end of an asphalt road that was almost completely overgrown with weeds. The weeds were very lush, almost waist-high, and swayed gently in the breeze, like a group of green ghosts dancing.

The driver pointed ahead to an area enclosed by a tall, rusty iron fence, his voice tinged with barely perceptible tension:

"Boss, we've arrived..."

That factory area is just ahead.

The road...the road ends here; cars simply can't drive any further in.

His voice trembled slightly, and a hint of fear appeared in his eyes.

He hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help adding:
"Are you... really sure this is the place?"
This place is very eerie; I've heard... it's not peaceful.

His eyes darted around, and he dared not look Xiao Chen in the eye, as if he were afraid of seeing something terrible in Xiao Chen's eyes.

He recalled some legends about this place. Some people said that strange things had happened here, and that strange noises and mysterious shadows had been heard and seen at night.

Although he didn't know if these legends were true, he couldn't help but feel afraid in this eerily quiet place.

Xiao Chen slowly opened his eyes, his tightly closed eyes like two doors sealed by the dust of time, finally opening slowly at this moment.

He gently pushed open the car door, and in an instant, a mixture of desolation and dampness rushed towards him, along with a strong smell of rust and the pungent, sour odor of decaying plants, as if an invisible hand had suddenly grabbed his nostrils.

He looked up and saw the outlines of several huge, dilapidated industrial buildings.

These buildings are like the skeletons of giant beasts left over from ancient times, silently lying in waist-high weeds.

The weeds grew rampantly, like green waves, gradually swallowing up the buildings, leaving only their dilapidated bodies exposed.

Every blade of grass sways gently in the wind, as if telling the story of this land's past prosperity and present desolation.

Most of the factory windows were broken, leaving only dark, gaping holes, like countless empty eyes coldly watching the world.

The hollow space seemed to conceal countless unknown secrets, sending chills down one's spine upon seeing it.

The red brick walls are mottled and uneven. The original bright red color has long been eroded by time and is no longer recognizable, leaving only dim traces.

The walls were covered with withered vines, which, like dried-up snakes, tightly coiled around the building as if trying to strangle it completely.

The enormous chimney leaned, like a weary giant, helplessly pointing towards the leaden sky.

The sky was overcast, as if shrouded by a huge gray curtain, with no sunlight able to penetrate it.

The surface of the chimney is covered with cracks and stains, like the wrinkles on an old man's face, recording its past glory and vicissitudes.

The only gate had long since rusted away, bound with iron chains thicker than an arm and a massive, equally rusty iron lock.

The chains and locks were like merciless shackles, tightly locking the gate, as if to seal away all the memories of this land forever.

A faded, rickety metal plaque hung on the iron fence, its lettering eroded by wind and rain, but the words "98 Kushu Road" were still faintly discernible. (End of Chapter)