Chapter Three: Half a Key to Tidelistening House

“So you chose a debtor. Easy to control, and no one would investigate if he died.” Yanci paused. “Yes.” The answer was cruel, but honest. Jibai stood and walked toward the door. “Where are you going?” “I quit. The contract says I keep the money.” A chair scraped behind him. Yanci caught his arm, reopening his wound. “Zhou Jibai.” “Let go.” “I can apologize.” Jibai turned. The lofty heir was pale, his hand stained with his own blood. For the first time, no calculation occupied his eyes—only the awkwardness of a man who did not know how to ask someone to stay. “How much is your apology worth?” “Name it.” “Then don't use money.” Jibai peeled his fingers away one by one but remained. “Tell me what frightens you most.”