Chapter 167 Whispers of Slumber

"Madam... I..."

The wind swept across the rooftop, jolting Crow awake. He hesitated for a long time, then carefully asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

The woman holding the umbrella silently gazed at the old city district with its trees, buildings, and birds. She shook her head and said, "You did nothing wrong."

Since the rules of Chengxin Society were established, they should naturally be followed.

Those who cross the line must suffer the consequences.

But... not everything is about right and wrong.

More than right and wrong, influential figures value profit and loss.

Sometimes, doing the wrong thing doesn't matter, as long as everyone benefits.

"Since I didn't do anything wrong, then there's no reason to hide!" Crow puffed out his chest and said loudly, "Since you entrusted Beihang to me, Madam, I won't retreat a single step. The rules were set together, and I'm acting according to them. There's no reason for me to back down!"

"You're a good fighter, I know," the Madam said earnestly, her voice slow but firm, "But force can't solve everything... Now that it's over, remember what I just told you. I'll handle the rest of this matter for you."

Crow was stunned.

The Madam's words cooled the blood that had been rushing through him.

Song Ci slowly lowered his head.

He understood what the Madam meant. Those who make the rules are often not the strongest.

But in Song Ci's world, fists were the truth, and strength was the rule... That's why he quickly made a name for himself after joining Chengxin Society. The weak fear the strong, and the strong fear those who don't value their lives. Chengxin Society was full of ruthless people, but he was someone who didn't value his life, a rash hero.

A rash hero's anger can splatter blood five steps away.

This was a principle a fist-hardened fool understood only after being covered in scars. Therefore, he regarded it as the ultimate truth and never wavered.

He didn't care what Chen San wanted to do; at worst, he would risk everything.

He was serious about what he said at the Jiangtan meeting.

"Yingji."

The woman spoke again, softly uttering a name only she would use.

The Madam never called Song Ci by the name "Crow."

When she brought this orphan back from the old district, everyone called him Crow, everyone thought he was unlucky... But she didn't think so. This child was covered in filth but had a uniquely pure light in his eyes. He confronted rumors, abuse, and rejection with an indifferent attitude. Although he was a mess, it was effective.

Only she saw the vulnerability beneath this little guy's ferocity, like a hedgehog desperately displaying its quills. All the arrogance was just a facade.

Everyone called him Crow, but they didn't know that beneath the crow's black feathers was a pure and innocent heart.

From that day on, subtle changes occurred in the deep-sea database. In the records of the old district of the capital, a pitiful youth named Song Ci disappeared, and the Madam gained a "Song Yingji" with a clear background. This youth named Song Yingji was fierce and valiant, competitive, and had extremely hard fists. He arrived in the capital's underground world out of nowhere, fought his way through all his opponents, and conquered the entire Beihang of the Chengxin Society.

In the eyes of those transcendents in the capital's underground world, Song Yingji was an existence even more terrifying than Zhao Xilai.

Big shots were high above, and their spittle couldn't reach them.

But Song Yingji was different; his fists would land squarely on your face.

Then, a coincidence occurred. From some day onward, people in the underground world began to call him "Crow." Fate liked to occasionally make unfunny jokes. Song Ci never imagined that after his life trajectory suddenly changed, he would still be unable to shake off the unlucky Crow moniker despite changing his name.

In the old district, the slovenly, parents-cursed-to-death youth was named Song Ci, nicknamed Crow.

In the Chengxin Society, the super-ruthless person who single-handedly conquered the entire Beihang, whom everyone feared, was named Song Yingji, but his nickname was still Crow.

Everyone called him Crow.

Only the Madam was different. The Madam called him Song Yingji.

"Although Zhao Qi isn't truly my husband, he's still my husband in name," the Madam sighed softly. "Now, in the Zhao family, he only has the status of an only son left. No matter how much he tries, he won't make waves. So... if he does something very foolish in the future, I hope you won't make any rash decisions."

This was a warning to him, urging him to avoid conflict with Zhao Qi as much as possible.

"I'll listen to you..."

Crow smiled silently and spoke with difficulty.

It took a lot of effort for him to finish the Madam's short sentence. This lazy person who had been leisurely lounging in the wicker chair sunning himself now looked like an exhausted and weak patient, promising weakly, "I'll lie low for a while. Whether it's Chen San's people or Zhao Qi's people... if they cause me trouble, I'll run far away."

He was best at running away.

The Madam silently held the umbrella and stood with him for more than ten minutes. Neither of them spoke during that time. The wind on the old rooftop rustled, and a thick cloud blocked the sun.

"Really... I promise, I won't cause trouble." Song Ci rubbed his face hard, carefully sorting out his emotions to at least ensure that his face didn't show any frustration. He forced a smile.

"I'm going somewhere."

The Madam glanced at him and said, "I need a driver, do you want to come?"

"...Me? Of course!" Song Ci was stunned, feeling flattered, and quickly agreed.

The Madam added, "On the condition that you change your clothes."

Only then did Song Ci awkwardly look down and examine his clothes. Probably because he had just been running, one of the buttons on his floral shirt was missing, leaving it half-open. He had stepped in mud with his flip-flops, and the wind had dried it, making the ground feel hard and bumpy.

His attire was indeed shabby.

He scratched his head, lifted his leg high, pressed the bottom of his flip-flop against the rooftop railing, and tried to scrape off the dried mud back and forth.

"I prepared a suit for you when you came. Just go downstairs." The Madam frowned at the sight.

...

...

Half an hour later, a pitch-black Phantom was driving down the road.

Song Yingji, who had changed his attire, sat in the driver's seat, silently and quietly driving. The speed wasn't fast, and he was driving steadily.

It wouldn't be an exaggeration to describe his transformation as a complete makeover.

A buzz cut paired with a black suit gave off a sharp, edgy feel, especially when he wasn't speaking. The aura of hostility filled his face. This temperament was far superior to the bodyguards he had chased in the alley during the day... This was the difference between a lion and a pet cat.

Song Yingji glanced at the navigation: Lipu Street.

He opened his mouth softly and asked, "Lipu Street, about forty minutes away... Is the Madam going to see a friend for afternoon tea?"

"To see a psychologist."

The Madam sat in the back seat, arms crossed, leaning against the window pretending to be asleep. She spoke slowly, her voice revealing a hint of exhaustion, "Recently... I've been having trouble sleeping."

Song Yingji was stunned.

"Trouble sleeping?" He was a little alarmed and said, "Are you sure this kind of problem... that the psychologist on Lipu Street will be helpful?"

"Not intending to interfere with your decision," Song Yingji said in a deep voice, "It's just that your time is so precious... If the other party is just an ordinary person, there's no need to try, right?"

Insomnia was still a common occurrence.

Ordinary mental-type transcendents all had the ability to hypnotize, and in theory, they could solve it. Setting aside the Zhao family's retainers, there were many mental-type transcendents in the Chengxin Society. He, Song Yingji, could reach in and pull out seven or eight of them.

"Cui Zhongcheng recommended him." The Madam rubbed her temples, worriedly. "I've already looked for several mental-types before, and even transcendents from the tenth floor of the Deep Sea couldn't see my problem. My sleep time is getting shorter and shorter, and the storms surrounding the Law are getting bigger and bigger. I have to pull myself together and I absolutely can't fail at this critical moment."

After hearing the name Cui Zhongcheng, Song Yingji, who had been about to say something, obediently shut his mouth.

Throughout the capital, there weren't many people he admired, but this Little Cui Gentleman was one of them.

"The tenth floor of the Deep Sea couldn't see the problem... Does a small Lipu Street hide a transcendent even more powerful than a tenth-floor mental-type?" Song Yingji found it a little unbelievable.

"Incredible, right?" The Madam supported her forehead, rubbing it slowly with her slender fingers, and said wearily, "If it weren't for Cui Zhongcheng... I wouldn't believe it either... It's said he's a boy of seventeen or eighteen."

"A boy of seventeen or eighteen? Even the protagonists of novels aren't this amazing, right?"

Song Yingji couldn't help but laugh. "Could Little Cui Gentleman have made a mistake?"

Coincidentally, hearing these words, an image involuntarily popped into Song Yingji's mind...

Seventeen or eighteen years old... a boy...

Gu Shen.

He immediately rejected this thought.

How could there be such a coincidence in this world!

And no matter how you looked at it, Gu Shen didn't seem like a novel protagonist.

"In the past ten years or so, everything Cui Zhongcheng has said seems to have come true, right?" The Madam sat in the back seat, looking at the scenery outside the window. It had been sunny just half an hour ago, but now it was raining lightly outside. The capital was like that, located in the Jiangnan region, and after autumn, it was often shrouded in rain and fog, dreary and desolate.

She chuckled softly and said, "Although I'd like to see him make a mistake, I hope this time is no exception."

"Of course... That's Little Cui Gentleman after all!"

After hearing Cui Zhongcheng's name, the string in Song Yingji's heart that had been taut with worry inexplicably loosened. That man indeed had the ability to make people relax and trust him.

He comforted her in a loud voice, "Madam, everything will be alright."

The woman had already closed her eyes in the slight bumps, only humming softly in her nose, her voice like a dream.

Raindrops pattered against the car window, and the soft white noise was transmitted through the glass, subtle and not noisy.

She had fallen into a rare light sleep.

Song Yingji stopped speaking and silently slowed down to avoid disturbing the Madam's nap.

"Lipu Street... Number 18..."

He glanced at the destination displayed on the navigation and silently recited the somewhat strange name of this clinic in his heart.

"The Dreamweaver."