Chapter 340 - 338: Infiltrating the Gold-Squandering Den

The moment Yang Xun stepped into the clubhouse, his eyes lit up.

Inside, it was as bright as day. A massive crystal chandelier hung overhead, its cascading tassels refracting fragmented, dazzling light that made the entire hall look like a palace. Underfoot lay a dark red handmade carpet that muffled nearly all footsteps. Several exquisitely framed oil paintings adorned the walls, clearly worth a fortune. The walls themselves featured reliefs outlined in gold thread, with antique-style wall lamps placed every few steps. Their warm yellow light spilled downwards, plating every inch of the space in a luxurious, ambiguous glow. Curved staircases flanked the hall, their handrails polished from dark walnut wood, and intricate patterns carved into every baluster. The air was thick with a scent mingling agarwood, cigars, and a cloying perfume—not overpowering, but enough to unconsciously slow one’s breathing.

Standing at the entrance, Yang Xun quickly swept his gaze across the hall. Waiters in black uniforms wove through the room, balancing trays of crystal-clear glasses. Scattered guests sat on the sofas in the center, conversing in low tones in groups of two or three. Occasionally, young women in cheongsams or short skirts drifted between them with glasses in hand, their waists slender and smiles playing on their lips. There weren’t many people, but every guest who entered wore a badge pinned to their chest. The designs varied: some had fine gold edges, some were plain silver, and others were inlaid with dark red gemstones that faintly sparkled in the light.

Yang Xun glanced down at the badge he had swiped. It was a round, silver piece with a fine rim of etched patterns. Though exquisitely crafted, it was obviously a grade or two lower than the premium, gem-encrusted ones.

He took a few steps up the curved staircase, his eyes darting between the various entryways on the first and second floors. He memorized several key locations and corners while secretly sensing the aura Su Mei had left behind. The interior of the building was much larger than he had imagined. The corridors were winding and full of forks, resembling a deliberately designed maze. Anyone who wasn’t a frequent visitor could easily take a wrong turn.

While he was hesitating at a fork on the second-floor corridor, a waiter in a black uniform backed out of a nearby private room, carrying a bottle of red wine. The waiter turned sideways to shut the door, then kept his head down as he hurried deeper into the hallway, seemingly in a rush. Yang Xun’s gaze locked onto the man’s retreating back. Shifting his steps, he trailed after him at a leisurely pace.

He maintained a distance of five or six paces, keeping his footsteps light and using the decorative pillars and potted plants along the corridor to conceal himself. After taking two turns, the waiter stopped in front of a small door marked "Supply Room" and pushed it open. Instead of following him in, Yang Xun stopped a few steps away and pretended to admire an oil painting on the wall. A moment later, the waiter emerged with a beautifully packaged bottle of whiskey and hurried back the way he came. Yang Xun stepped aside to let him pass before continuing down the hall.

As he passed several private rooms, he discreetly peeked through the half-open doors. The sounds of men and women laughing echoed from some, while others were dead silent. However, standing guard outside most doors were one or two muscular, expressionless bodyguards in black suits. As Yang Xun walked, he mapped out the building’s layout in his mind. He noticed a concealed door at the end of each corridor that blended seamlessly into the surrounding wall, easily overlooked if one wasn’t paying close attention. These hidden doors appeared at regular intervals, far too systematic to be random.

He realized that the clubhouse’s membership hierarchy was far more complex than he had anticipated. His silver badge only granted him access to the first floor and parts of the second. The third floor and the spaces hidden behind those secret doors were clearly off-limits to his rank. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to steal a premium badge, but those were surely held by only a select few, making it far too easy to blow his cover.

Just as he stood at the third-floor stairwell, eyeing a hidden door, a flurry of hurried, frantic footsteps echoed from behind. Yang Xun ducked into the shadow of a nearby pillar and glanced toward the noise. A young woman in a tight, hip-hugging dress stumbled around the corner of the hallway. Tottering in her high heels, she kept one hand against the wall and clutched the collar of her dress with the other, struggling desperately to maintain her balance.

Her complexion was off—a sickly flush spread across her cheeks. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, and her lips parted slightly as if she were gulping down air. After staggering a few more steps, her legs suddenly gave out, and she pitched forward. Yang Xun instinctively stepped out and caught her arm. Already weak, she immediately went limp and leaned her entire weight against him.

He looked down at her and froze when he saw her face. It was Yue Feifei. Her makeup today was completely different from what he remembered. She sported long, winged eyeliner and bright red lipstick, and her hair was styled in gentle waves. She looked like a completely different person from the sharp, capable female detective she usually was, but Yang Xun would never mistake those distinctive phoenix eyes.

"You—"

He had barely gotten a word out when the door behind Yue Feifei burst open.

A man’s furious, alcohol-laced tirade drifted from inside. "Damn it! Stop playing hard to get! I’ve been more than generous, haven’t I?

"You’re just a hostess! How dare you give me attitude and walk out?"

Sensing trouble, Yang Xun reacted instantly. Before the door could open entirely, he wrapped an arm around Yue Feifei’s waist, pulled her into an unlit, empty private room nearby, and silently clicked the door shut. The cursing outside continued for a few more moments. Heavy footsteps paced up and down the corridor twice before finally retreating in angry reluctance.

Leaning against the door, Yang Xun looked down at Yue Feifei, who was still clutching his shirt. Her breathing had grown even more erratic, and her pliant body was practically plastered to his. Her temperature was unnervingly high; he could feel the scorching heat radiating through her thin clothing.

"Yue Feifei?" Yang Xun kept his voice low, his tone carrying a note of serious inquiry. "What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like this?"

Yue Feifei lifted her head to look at him, her phoenix eyes clouded with a hazy, unfocused mist.