Six months pregnant, Shanghai dropped ten degrees overnight.
The wind off the river cut like blades.
I summoned Gu Xinghe, Tang Shi, and Fu Juanzhou
to the rooftop terrace of Bund 18.
No one was leaving alive unless I said so.
7 p.m. The river was black ink.
I wore a long black maternity gown, belly huge and terrifying, hem snapping in the gale.
In my hand: four pages titled
[Final Liquidation]
Gu Xinghe arrived first, grey trench coat soaked, still smiling like a gentleman:
"Lin Zhi, you really want to finish us all?"
Tang Shi second, blue hair a mess, eyes red, clutching a folding knife that shook in his grip.
Fu Juanzhou last, suit immaculate, carrying a bottle of 1982 Lafite.
He walked straight to me, pressed the bottle into my hand, whispered:
"Wife, no matter who dies tonight, I'm with you."
I laughed until tears threatened.
Then I slammed the four pages on the table, voice ice:
"Three items tonight:
One—Gu Xinghe, close your short on my child right now.
Two—Tang Shi, point that knife at my baby's father again and I cripple you first.
Three—"
I paused, hand on my belly, voice suddenly soft:
"Three—watch me collect every debt from the past six years,
with interest,
from the Huangpu itself."
Gu Xinghe laughed first:
"Lin Zhi, you're insane.
You can barely stand."
I ignored him, pulled out the fountain pen he once gave me—
the one engraved "To the one who can kill me beautifully"—
and pressed the nib against my own belly until blood bloomed, darker than the dress.
"Gu Xinghe," I locked eyes with him,
"you wanted to acquire me, right?
Last chance.
Kneel.
Sign over 30% voting shares of the Gu empire to me,
and I'll pretend tonight never happened."
His smile died. Face ghost-white.
Tang Shi lunged, knife at Gu Xinghe's throat:
"My sister gave you an order—kneel or not?"
Fu Juanzhou grabbed Tang Shi's wrist, voice lethal:
"Kid, don't dirty her hands."
Then he stepped forward, seized Gu Xinghe's tie, yanked—
Gu Xinghe crashed to his knees on the freezing terrace, sound of bone on stone.
I crouched, forced the pen into Gu Xinghe's shaking hand, whispered like a lover:
"Sign.
Or I jump right now, six months pregnant,
and show you how much blood one woman can splash across you men."
He signed.
Ink bled into rainwater, red as blood.
When he finished, he looked up, madness in his eyes:
"Lin Zhi, you won.
But remember—
you'll never sleep soundly again."
I stood, blood running down my skirt, diluted by rain.
Then I turned to Tang Shi, touched his cheek, voice soft:
"Little Shi, drop the knife.
Your sister promises—
I'll never go soft again."
The knife clattered to the ground.
He threw his arms around me, sobbing like a child:
"Sis… I was scared you'd abandon me…"
I held him, fingers in his wet hair, sigh gentle:
"Stupid boy.
There'll always be a place for you on my blade."
Finally I looked at Fu Juanzhou.
He stood drenched, eyes burning.
I reached out, laced our fingers:
"Ah Juan,
let's go home.
The Huangpu has collected enough tonight."
We walked away.
Behind us: Gu Xinghe on his knees,
Tang Shi clinging to my legs crying,
and a terrace full of blood diluted by rain.
The wind stopped.
Every neon light in Shanghai flared at once,
like a million eyes
watching a woman six months pregnant
walk out of the blood,
step by step.
That night,
the Huangpu really collected its debts.
Clean.
Not even the interest was left.