Chen Song spoke with easy confidence, as naturally as if he were eating or drinking:
"Over the past few decades, without exception, everyone who betrayed me met a miserable end. Qimeng, you'd better think this through!"
I've thought it through.
Qimeng's tone was firm.
A ripple suddenly passed through Chen Song's voice, turning it somewhat vicious:
"Seeing how you've worked so diligently for me all these years, I'll give you one more chance. Are you taking back what you just said?"
"I'm not."
"Good. You've got guts."
Chen Song laughed. "Just wait. Tomorrow, I'll send someone to collect your corpse."
"I advise you to give up on that idea."
Qimeng's tone was calm. "You won't be able to get into Ding Corporation."
"You don't understand me at all."
Chen Song sneered. "You've been undercover beside Hong Guang for too long. You have no idea what trump cards I possess."
"No matter how many trump cards you have, they're useless."
Qimeng warned him calmly, "Master Chen, I've risked my life for you countless times over the years. I've always been walking a tightrope, and many times, I was only a step away from death. I don't owe you anything! I hope you understand that."
"You joined my team, which makes you my person. Whether you owe me or not has little to do with it."
Chen Song laughed. "Qimeng, you're an old hand in the jianghu. You should know that entering it is easy, but leaving it is hard. I don't need to spell out the rules—you understand them yourself. Now you want to tell me that you're tired and don't want to be part of the jianghu anymore. Is it a place you can simply leave because you don't want to stay? If everyone in the jianghu were like you,