The night hung low, a heavy shroud torn by violent gusts and a torrential downpour.
On a desolate plaza on the outskirts of River City, dozens of burly men in black suits stood like obsidian pillars, hands clasped behind their backs, lining both sides of the street in perfect, lethal formation.
At the far end, atop a raised dais, sat an elderly man in a traditional Tang suit. Beside him stood a woman in a provocative, form-fitting cheongsam, holding a black silk umbrella to shield him from the storm.
Suddenly, a tall, solitary figure emerged from the curtain of rain.
Ethan Ye walked forward, empty-handed, his pace steady as he braved the howling wind.
The old man's eyes narrowed. His index finger tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his grand mahogany chair.
"Kill him," the woman in the cheongsam commanded, her red lips parting to spill a single, freezing syllable.
In an instant, the black-clad guards drew their blades with a collective roar, surging toward Ethan like a dark tide.
But in the blink of an eye, the plaza was filled with the wailing of the defeated.
Before the old man could even gasp, Ethan stood before him on the high stage, appearing like a vengeful ghost.
The once-arrogant woman collapsed to the floor in a fit of terror.
Ethan reached out, grabbing the old man by his collar and hoisting him bodily from the chair.
Rain soaked the old man's hair and his expensive silk suit. His face contorted in primal fear, his voice trembling as he choked out, "Ethan... you... what do you want!?"
"What do I want?" A bloodthirsty sneer curled Ethan's lips, his eyes erupting with a dormant, volcanic rage. "I want your life!"
Without another word, Ethan's right hand clamped around the man's throat like a pressurized steel vice.
With a sickening, bone-deep crunch, the man's features twisted into a final, grotesque mask before his life flickered out.
Ethan slowly looked toward the churning sky, whispering a silent vow: "Old man, the debt is settled. You can finally rest in peace."
At that moment, a fleet of top-tier luxury cars screeched to a halt in the distance.
A woman with flowing long hair, Luna, led a group of subordinates as they rushed onto the stage. They knelt in unison at Ethan's side.
"Supreme Lord!" Luna held up an open velvet box with profound reverence. Inside rested a ring that carried the weight of an empire.
"We have news. Your former girlfriend—the one from before your imprisonment—is holding her wedding tomorrow at Imperial Residence!"
Ethan took the ring, sliding it onto his finger as he turned, his brow furrowing slightly. "Imperial Residence?"
In his mind, his master's dying words echoed: "Stupid brat, when you return to River City, go to Imperial Residence. Do a little favor for me."
Ethan pulled a business card from his coat. His deep gaze settled on the name and the photograph: Natalie Liu.
"Let's go. We're going back to River City!"
The following day,in Imperial Residence Villa.
Ethan, dressed in simple, humble attire, stood outside the grand gates of the villa.
He watched the stream of elite guests with a flicker of genuine hope in his eyes.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand hall, he spotted Sarah Su in a white wedding gown, chatting with her bridesmaid, Jessie Xu.
"Is this the surprise the old man prepared for me?" Ethan wondered to himself.
Sarah caught sight of him, and the shock on her face was immediate.
"Ethan... Ethan? How... how did you get out?"
"Yes, Sarah! I'm back!" Ethan beamed, walking toward her with a heart full of excitement.
He dropped to one knee, removing the ring that symbolized the absolute authority of the Dragon Temple.
"Sarah, marry me! For everything I've put you through these past three years, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you!"
Sarah took the ring, squinting at it with a look of intense scrutiny.
"Ha!" Sarah let out a sharp, piercing laugh of pure derision. "What kind of roadside trash is this? You actually expect me to put this garbage on my finger?"
Without a moment's hesitation, she hurled the ring directly at Ethan's face.