The Phoenix of the Slums

The dojo smelled of gunpowder and blood.

Li Tianming stood over the unconscious attacker, his chest heaving. The pistol in his hand still felt foreign—cold, metallic, too heavy for a man who'd never held real power before. But something had shifted inside him.

He wasn’t the same boy who slept in a shipping container.

Zhao Chenhai tossed a wet cloth toward him. “Wipe your face. First blood always shakes you.”

Tianming did as told, though his mind was still racing. “They were professionals. Military?”

“Private security,” Zhao replied. “Trained by the Li family. Loyal to your uncle, Li Shengyuan. That man builds killers the way others build skyscrapers.”

Tianming looked down. “Then he’s training the wrong army."

Zhao chuckled—short and sharp. “Confidence is good. Arrogance will get you killed.”

He walked to a cabinet behind the wall and unlocked it with a rusted key. Inside was a tightly wrapped scroll, a faded ledger, and a metal box. Zhao pulled the box out and placed it in front of Tianming.

“Your grandfather left this for you. He made me swear I’d give it to you… when you were ready.”

Tianming opened the box.

Inside was a jade pendant shaped like a phoenix—exquisitely carved, flawless in detail. Its wings were spread, eyes burning with fury.

Zhao spoke softly. “The Phoenix Pendant. It was passed down to the rightful heir of the Li bloodline. Not even Shengyuan has dared to fake it.”

Tianming held it gently. He didn’t know what legacy it truly carried—but he felt a deep heat within his chest the moment his fingers closed around it.

“Now they’ll know,” he said. “They’ll know I’m not dead.”

Zhao nodded. “And that’s the point. No more hiding. From now on, everything changes.”

Two Days Later – Outskirts of Donghai City

Zhao’s old contact, a mysterious woman named Fang Yuwei, pulled up in a black van. She wore a simple leather jacket, minimal makeup, and eyes that had seen far too much war.

She glanced at Tianming through her tinted sunglasses. “So this is the phoenix cub?”

“He’s ready,” Zhao said.

Yuwei scoffed. “We’ll see.”

She handed Tianming a burner phone, fake ID, a slim bank card, and a sealed envelope.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“Your new life,” she said. “We’re building your shadow identity. You’ll be known as Jiang Ming, an orphaned logistics worker recruited overseas. You’ll train, gather intel, build leverage. Zhao will teach you combat. I’ll teach you how to move through the underworld without being swallowed.”

Tianming raised an eyebrow. “Why help me?”

Yuwei shrugged. “Your grandfather saved my brother’s life once. That makes you family.”

Tianming stared at the items in his hand—his past, present, and future now split between names and shadows.

Jiang Ming in the streets.

Li Tianming in his heart.

The Phoenix in his blood.