You got your marriage certificate and then abandoned me? I'll feed the richest woman in the wor

Shen Wanzhou swallowed the amber-colored tangerine peel Pu'er tea.

She closed her eyes, feeling the sweetness melt on her tongue, and couldn't hide the smile on her lips.

Chen Yuan carefully placed the white porcelain cup back onto the small wooden table.

He looked at the few silver strands of hair around his wife's ears, whitened by the years, his gaze warmer than the early autumn sun.

The absurd farce surrounding his ex came to a complete end on this afternoon filled with the fragrance of osmanthus blossoms, a story that needs no further mention.

Chen Yuan leaned back in the rattan chair.

He watched a white butterfly fly by in the flowerbed, and his thoughts drifted with the wind back to more than thirty years ago.

That year, Star Ventures had just carved out a path for itself on Wall Street, and the foundation of its trillion-dollar capital empire had just been laid.

Chen Yuan was still working day and night to prepare various medicinal meals for Shen Wanzhou to treat her stomach problems caused by her hard work.

And his men are a group of monsters who wreak havoc on the dark web and kill without blinking an eye.

However, they were met with an unprecedented life-or-death calamity.

Thirty years ago, in the capital city.

"Cloud" is a top-tier private club.

The gilded gate shone brightly in the sunlight.

The eagle, dressed in a bespoke Armani suit, stood on the steps outside the gate.

He pinched his philtrum tightly with his left hand, while his right hand, like a pair of pliers, gripped the strap of a yellow takeout box.

"Eagle! Let go! Every time you're late, I'll lose fifty bucks!"

The Bloodhand Butcher, wearing a yellow vest stained with oil, paced anxiously in circles.

"The spicy hot pot I ordered at Xizhimen is almost ruined! The customer gave me a bad review, and my perfect attendance bonus for this month is gone!"

The eagle's knuckles were white from excessive force.

"Your lousy attendance bonus combined wouldn't even buy a single scallion for Brother Yuan's family!"

The eagle roared in despair.

"Brother Yuan gave a direct order! The core members of Star Venture Capital's dark web operations cannot all be lifelong bachelors!"

"You lot must sit inside for the full two hours today. No one is allowed back at base until you find a partner!"

Beside her, Dark Rose was wearing a bright red floral cotton-padded jacket.

She had a woven bag with the word "urea" printed on it slung over her arm.

She grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds from the bag, cracked them open with a loud cracking sound, and the seed shells drifted away in the wind.

"Little Eagle," Aunt Wang said, spitting out the sunflower seed shells.

"I'm already 55, and I still have to be the lead dancer in the square dance to keep things in order. Why did Brother Yuan arrange for me to be included too?"

The eagle grabbed a slicked-back hairstyle.

The hairspray has all come off, and my hair looks like a bird's nest.

"Brother Yuan said that being single for too long can easily lead to psychological distortion, affecting your speed in drawing your sword and typing code."

"Although you are fifty-five, you are still the head of the intelligence group, so you have to set an example."

The butcher pointed at the middle school student who was squatting under the stone lion playing King of Glory.

"And what about him? Little Six isn't even fully grown yet, is he?"

Hades Xiao Liu was wearing a blue and white school uniform with a bright red scarf fluttering on his chest.

Without even looking up, he frantically scribbled on his phone screen, producing a five-kill sound effect.

"Uncle Eagle said that the matchmaking event's buffet has crayfish flown in from New Zealand, so I'm here to get my money's worth."

Xiao Liu sniffed.

"While you're at it, let's do a background check on your blind date. Just so you don't get scammed."

The eagle took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy glass door.

He forced these three oddballs into a high-end matchmaking party filled with elegant ladies and glamorous women, like herding ducks.

The Swarovski crystal chandelier emits a cool light.

The air was filled with the scent of Jo Malone perfume and expensive cigars.

The moment the butcher stepped inside, the smell of spicy hot pot broth emanating from his body was like a biological bomb.

The crowd within a three-meter radius was cleared in an instant.

The socialites in their evening gowns covered their noses and backed away as if avoiding a plague.

Aunt Wang found a genuine leather sofa by the window and sat down comfortably.

A balding middle-aged man wearing a three-piece suit and gold-rimmed glasses walked over.

He held a glass of Bordeaux red wine and sat down opposite Aunt Wang, thinking himself elegant.

"Ms. Wang? The person who introduced us said you work in international information consulting?"

The middle-aged man flicked his wrist, deliberately showing off the Rolex that gleamed with gold.

Grandma Wang placed the urea bag on the table, making a dull metallic clanging sound.

Those were two Glock pistols that hadn't been handed over to the base, plus two high-explosive grenades.

"I guess so." Aunt Wang took out another handful of melon seeds.

"Usually, we just inquire about which drug lord's hideout has been raided, or which country's Ministry of Defense server hasn't closed its backdoor."

The middle-aged man paused for a moment, then let out two dry laughs that twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"Ms. Wang is so humorous. Actually, I don't have high requirements for my other half. I just need someone who can stay at home and take care of the children, and someone who can play golf with me occasionally."

He took a sip of red wine.

"Look at the recent exchange rate of the pound; the international situation is really turbulent..."

"The pound is really not doing well."

Aunt Wang took out a knitting skewer from the bag and scratched her scalp.

"The MI6 supervisor known as 'Hound' was kidnapped on the banks of the Thames last night. This morning, all the underlying trading data on the London Stock Exchange was leaked, and the market will plummet to rock bottom as soon as it opens tomorrow."

The middle-aged man's hand, holding a wine glass, froze in mid-air.

The dark red liquor sloshed out, spilling onto his perfectly pressed bespoke suit trousers.

It dripped down his crotch.

"Where...where did you see this insider information?" The middle-aged man's voice trembled.

Grandma Wang pointed to the pocket on his chest with a bamboo skewer.

"This isn't just hearsay. You were using the free Wi-Fi here just now, and I casually sent the document on your phone—the one about falsifying accounts for shell companies—to the China Banking and Insurance Regulatory Commission."

She snapped open a sunflower seed with a snap.

"I also glanced at your international web browsing history. You have quite the taste, buddy."

The middle-aged man's face changed from red to white, and then from white to green.

He didn't dare utter a single harsh word. He grabbed two tissues, covered his crotch, and rushed out of the club like a rabbit whose tail had been stepped on.

the other side.

Hades Xiao Liu sat cross-legged in front of the long dessert table.

There were already more than a dozen empty plates of crayfish piled up in front of him.

A socialite, wearing a tight-fitting bodycon dress and with a silicone implant shining through her nose, walked over.

She fanned her nose with her hand, looking disgusted.

"Whose kid is this? Begging through the back door? This is a high-class affair, don't you know the rules?"

Xiao Liu licked the wasabi sauce off his fingers.

He wiped his oily fingers on his blue and white school uniform and opened the tablet computer next to him.

"Auntie, the implant in your nose is about to become crooked."

Xiao Liu, biting into a French fry, mumbled something indistinctly.

"When you went to the restroom to touch up your makeup, you also replied to three messages from your 'sugar daddies,' right?"

The socialite's face turned deathly pale instantly, and her voice became as sharp as fingernails scratching glass.

"What nonsense are you spouting, you little brat! Believe me or not, I'll have security tear your mouth apart!"

Xiao Liu turned the tablet around so that the screen was facing her.

The page above is filled with code recovery instructions for WeChat chat history.

"Note: 'Mr. Li (two apartments within the Second Ring Road)', I transferred 50,000 yuan to you last night, and you sent three photos of yourself taking a shower."

Xiao Liu swiped the screen with his fingers covered in wasabi.

"Note: 'Brother Zhang (Mercedes-Benz G-Class)', I sent you 60,000 this morning. You said you'll only love him for the rest of your life."

The socialite trembled and reached out to grab the tablet.

Xiao Liu nimbly dodged, protecting the tablet in front of her chest, revealing an innocent smile.

"No need to fight over it anymore. I just wrote a mini-program and added these three uncles to a group."

"They're currently discussing in the group chat who reimbursed you for the abortion you just had at the hospital."

The socialite screamed.

Her high heels broke off on the carpet.

She scrambled to the bathroom to make a phone call, half of her false eyelashes flying off in the process.

In a corner of the entire matchmaking party, only Bloodhand Butcher's territory remained.

He sat on a velvet armchair.

The greasy yellow vests were completely out of place in this extravagant environment.

The vest even had three bulletproof ceramic inserts sewn inside, making the person look bulky like a bucket.

Across from him sat a woman covered in Chanel double C logos.

The woman held a bone china coffee cup, her eyes unabashedly scanning the butcher's messy hair.

It's like looking at a cheap, shabby piece of junk hanging in a flea market.

"I heard you were specially sent in by Mr. Eagle?"

The woman's voice was drawn out, carrying an air of self-righteous arrogance.

The butcher was staring intently at a plate of pistachios on the coffee table.

He was wondering if he could put this thing in a takeout box and bring it back as a snack for the guard dog at the base.

"Ah, I guess so." The butcher didn't even look up.

"Brother Eagle thinks I'm always waving a knife around in the streets, affecting the city's appearance. He insists I come here to meet normal female creatures and get some human life."

The woman frowned.

The coffee cup slammed heavily onto the saucer, making a sharp, jarring sound.

"I'll be frank. I'm a very realistic person. Marriage isn't about targeted poverty alleviation."

She crossed her arms, slightly raised her chin, revealing her graceful swan neck.

"Judging from your attire, you're a food delivery driver? Even if you work yourself to death every day, how much can you possibly save in a year for that kind of low-paying job?"

"How many fully paid-off apartments do you own within the Third Ring Road in Beijing? What kind of car do you drive?"

The butcher finally looked away from the pistachio platter.

He glanced at the woman's fair neck.

Subconsciously, he calculated the location of the major artery and which military knife would be needed to cut it and shut her up in a fraction of a second.

"house?"

The butcher scratched the back of his head.

"I usually sleep in the basement. There's a two-meter-thick blast door there, so it's safe. Property deeds are easy to expose fixed coordinates, and if an enemy takes us out with an RPG, it's not worth it."

The woman looked at him as if he were crazy, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Are you out of your mind? Who asked about the blast door?! I'm asking you, what's your annual income? Do you have enough savings to live a luxurious life?!"

The butcher sighed.

He extended his left little finger, and, oblivious to everyone else, stuck it into his nostril and picked at it.

There was a small, unidentified object stuck to my fingernail.

With a flick of his finger, it landed precisely in the expensive coffee with latte art in front of the woman.

A ripple spread across the brown liquid surface.

The woman's eyes widened, her stomach churned instantly, and she covered her mouth tightly with her hand, almost vomiting on the spot.

The deliveryman, Butcher, looked at his blind date across from him, picked his nose, and said, "Beautiful lady, you're asking me how much my annual income is? Not much, about the amount I could steal if I hacked into the Federal Reserve."