Two Hundred Million to Hire an Assassin

"Third Uncle, why are you stirring up trouble too?"

Zhang Liangyin couldn't understand it. Under his father's protection, the family had lived in luxury. But the moment his father collapsed, the whole family fell into chaos.

"Watch how you talk to me, kid. Everyone's doing it. What choice do I have? Am I supposed to sit around and watch until I have nothing left?"

Selfishness and greed—the ugliest parts of human nature—had been magnified beyond belief. Their brother lay in the hospital, yet instead of trying to save him, they scrambled for a share of the wealth.

But all they could claim was the wealth held at Zhang Mansion. As for the vast Zhang Mansion Group, none of them could get a cent out of it.

Even if Zhang Hong died, they would have to follow legal procedures to split the family assets. And if they did, Kyoto would lose the Zhang Mansion as one of its great families. Its standing would plummet overnight.

Zhang Liangyin had only come back to take a look. What he saw chilled him, then filled him with rage. But he dared not turn that rage on his elders. They might not be especially capable, but they were beyond the power of a junior like him to challenge.

"Zhang Yang, this is all your fault. You'll pay for it."

Rage consumed Zhang Liangyin. Every bit of it hardened into hatred for Zhang Yang. Though they were brothers, he had forgotten that bond completely.

"Hello? Yin Zhiping?"

"I'll pay you a hundred million to kill someone for me. His name is Zhang Yang."

"He's holed up at Zhang Daoru's place. How you do it is up to you. I just want to hear that he's dead today."

His anger had turned to hatred, and hatred to