Rebirth Immortal-Chapter 66: The First Move

Author's Note: Sorry for the delayed updates. We are on track now.

The next afternoon, Qin Hao sat inside a private tea house, waiting. The room was quiet, the scent of freshly brewed tea filling the air. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting soft shadows across the polished wooden table.

Bao Lei leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Do you think he'll come?"

"He will," Qin Hao said calmly, pouring himself a cup of tea. "A man like Chen Yufei doesn't ignore a threat to his family. He'll want to know who's pulling the strings."

Just as he finished speaking, the door opened.

Chen Yufei walked in, his presence commanding. He was in his late fifties, tall and sharp-eyed, dressed in a tailored navy suit. His steps were steady, his expression unreadable. Behind him were two bodyguards, their eyes scanning the room with practiced precision.

Chen Yang followed closely, his usual arrogance gone. The young man looked uneasy, as if he'd been forced into this meeting.

Chen Yufei took a seat across from Qin Hao, adjusting his cufflinks before speaking. "You must be Qin Hao."

Qin Hao nodded. "And you must be Chen Yufei."

Chen Yufei took a slow breath, his gaze steady. "I don't appreciate being summoned like this. My son told me you helped him last night. What do you want in return?"

Qin Hao took a sip of his tea, his voice calm. "I want Zhao Ming."

Chen Yufei's expression didn't change, but his fingers twitched slightly—a small, almost unnoticeable reaction. "Zhao Ming? And what do I have to do with him?"

Qin Hao set his cup down. "Everything. Zhao Ming wouldn't have lasted this long without your backing."

Silence filled the room.

Chen Yufei chuckled softly. "You're a bold man, Qin Hao. But I don't involve myself in small conflicts."

Qin Hao smiled. "This isn't a small conflict. Zhao Ming is finished. His warehouse is gone, his operations are collapsing, and his network is falling apart. You have a choice—cut him off now and save yourself, or go down with him."

Chen Yufei's jaw tightened. "And if I refuse?"

Qin Hao leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Then I'll make sure every dirty deal, every bribe, and every secret you've buried comes to light. Do you think the people you've paid off will still protect you when the public is watching?"

Chen Yang shifted uncomfortably. Even his bodyguards looked uneasy.

Chen Yufei's eyes darkened. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he exhaled and leaned back in his chair.

"What exactly do you want from me?"

Qin Hao smirked. "Cut off Zhao Ming's resources. Make it clear to your associates that he's no longer protected. Once he's completely exposed, I'll handle the rest."

Chen Yufei studied him carefully. "And after that?"

"You walk away clean," Qin Hao said simply. "You get to keep your reputation, your businesses, and your son."

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Chen Yufei glanced at Chen Yang, who still looked nervous. His fingers tapped lightly against the table as he considered his options.

Finally, he nodded. "Fine. Zhao Ming is no longer my concern. But be careful, Qin Hao. A man like him won't go down without a fight."

Qin Hao smiled. "I hope he doesn't."

Chen Yufei stood up. "We're done here."

He turned to leave, his bodyguards following closely behind. Chen Yang hesitated for a second before quickly scurrying after his father.

As the door shut behind them, Bao Lei let out a low whistle. "That was intense."

Qin Hao picked up his teacup again, his eyes gleaming. "Now, we watch Zhao Ming struggle."

That evening, Zhao Ming sat in his office, his face twisted in frustration. The reports in front of him were a disaster—his supply chains were cut, shipments were delayed, and his partners were pulling out.

His phone rang, and he answered immediately. "Speak!"

The voice on the other end was filled with panic. "Boss, we have a problem. Chen Yufei's men are pulling out of all our deals. They're freezing our funds and telling suppliers to stop working with us."

Zhao Ming's grip on the phone tightened. "That bastard...!"

Another call came in. This time, it was from one of his trusted informants.

"Boss, I don't know how, but someone's been leaking information about our operations. The police have already started investigating a few of our properties!"

Zhao Ming slammed his fist on the desk. "Who the hell is doing this?"

He didn't have to think hard. There was only one name that made sense—Qin Hao.

His eyes burned with fury.

"If he wants a war," Zhao Ming growled, "then I'll give him one."

He picked up his phone again.

"Gather the men. We're going to make an example out of Qin Hao."

Late at night, Qin Hao stood on the rooftop of a tall building, overlooking the city. The lights stretched far into the distance, and the streets below were still busy. He exhaled slowly, feeling the night breeze against his face.

Bao Lei walked up behind him. "It's started," he said.

Qin Hao nodded. He had expected Zhao Ming to fight back, but he wasn't worried. The old dog was desperate now, which meant he would make mistakes.

"How's the situation?" Qin Hao asked.

Bao Lei smirked. "Zhao Ming's men are scrambling. The suppliers have completely abandoned him, and the police are already checking his properties. He's losing money by the second. But..." He hesitated for a moment.

Qin Hao turned to him. "But what?"

Bao Lei's expression turned serious. "He's gathering his men. Word on the street is that he's planning something big. He's not just sitting back and watching himself fall."

Qin Hao chuckled. "Of course he isn't. A man like him would rather burn everything than accept defeat."

Bao Lei nodded. "So, what's the next step?"

Qin Hao's gaze darkened. "We make sure he has no way out."

Across the city, in a dimly lit warehouse, Zhao Ming sat at the head of a long table, surrounded by his most loyal men. The air was heavy with smoke, and the tension was thick.

"I want him gone," Zhao Ming said, his voice low and furious. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, but his determination burned strong. "Qin Hao thinks he can just walk in and take everything from me? He's underestimating me."

One of his men, a tall, scarred thug named Liu Biao, spoke up. "Boss, the usual methods won't work. He's not just some street punk. He's been planning this for a while."

Zhao Ming slammed his fist on the table. "I don't care! Find out where he is. I want his businesses destroyed, his people scared, and if we get the chance—kill him."

The room fell silent. Everyone understood what that meant.

Liu Biao nodded. "We'll take care of it."

Zhao Ming leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. He had to act fast. His reputation was crumbling, his power slipping away. If he didn't crush Qin Hao now, he would be finished.

The next morning, Qin Hao sat in his office, casually sipping his coffee. Bao Lei stood by the window, reading reports.

"Zhao Ming's men attacked two of our smaller businesses last night," Bao Lei said. "Nothing major, but they're trying to send a message."

Qin Hao smirked. "Then we should send one back."

Bao Lei grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that."

A few minutes later, Qin Hao dialed a number. "It's time," he said simply before hanging up.

Across the city, in an underground gambling den, Zhao Ming's men were counting stacks of cash when suddenly, the doors burst open. A group of masked men stormed in, wielding baseball bats and iron rods.

The fight was over in minutes. The gamblers fled in panic, and Zhao Ming's men were left unconscious on the floor, the cash burning in the middle of the room.

An hour later, three more of Zhao Ming's businesses were attacked. His bars were trashed, his men beaten, and his money stolen.

By the time news reached Zhao Ming, his entire empire was bleeding.

He threw his glass against the wall, shattering it. His breathing was heavy, his hands shaking. "That bastard!"

Liu Biao entered the room, his face grim. "Boss, we need to talk."

Zhao Ming glared at him. "Unless you have a way to kill Qin Hao, I don't want to hear it."

Liu Biao hesitated, then said, "Maybe it's time to call for outside help."

Zhao Ming narrowed his eyes. "Who?"

Liu Biao leaned in and whispered a name.

Zhao Ming's expression changed. He hadn't considered that option before, but now... it might be the only way.

"Fine," he said, his voice cold. "Make the call."