Chapter 77: I've Even Beaten Up the Mayor's Son

“Have you ever considered letting him go out and see the world?” Qin Yang smiled. “He’s still young, just got into college—these three or four years are the prime of his life. Wouldn’t it be a waste not to venture out a bit?”

“Him? I’m already relieved if he doesn’t cause me trouble,” Old Master Qin waved his hand. “If I let him out, I’m afraid he’d attract a whole heap of trouble. By the way, where are you working now?”

“Driver,” Qin Yang grinned. “I chauffeur for a mall owner in Haitian City. No problem supporting myself.”

“That’s not bad at all,” Old Master Qin laughed. “At least you’re close to the boss. Honestly, with your skills, you could easily work for an even bigger boss.”

Qin Yang quickly shook his head. If Liu Molan found out he was driving for someone else, she’d be unhappy for sure. Their relationship now wasn’t just superior and subordinate, but had entered a rather subtle stage, and Qin Yang wasn’t ready to change that. So he said, “I’m still interested in my current job. Maybe after a while, I’ll consider something else.”

“That’s good. You’re still young,” Old Master Qin said. “But it’s best to keep your feet on the ground.”

As they chatted idly, they saw Wang Yue bringing in vegetables and meat into the kitchen, while Qin Yao excitedly went to help. Qin Ye, meanwhile, looked sullenly at Qin Yang—this guy was really something; after only one morning of learning, his sister couldn’t handle him anymore. Of course, Qin Ye hadn’t used his full strength; if he, a grown man, used brute force, how could Qin Yao, who’d only trained for a morning, stand a chance? But Qin Yang was confident—so long as Qin Yao practiced diligently for a while, ordinary people certainly wouldn’t be able to beat her.

Qin Ye wanted to learn too, especially after his sister’s glowing account of Qin Yang’s palm strike last night. But pride kept him lingering at the kitchen door, lost in his own thoughts.

By noon, lunch was ready. Qin Long came home from work, bringing two bottles of good liquor. During the meal, he occasionally inquired about Qin Yang’s past as an orphan. Fortunately, Qin Yang knew how to answer without making the atmosphere too sad. After three rounds of drinks, Qin Yao suggested, “Qin Yang, let’s go out and have some fun.”

“Alright.” Qin Yang nodded. “Let’s go out this afternoon. I should head back tonight, though.”

“No rush.” Old Master Qin stopped him, his face red from drink. “You’ve only been here half a day. Stay a couple more days—I’d like to chat more with you.”

“Yes, yes! I want to learn kung fu too,” Qin Yao pumped her little fists, clearly excited about her morning’s progress.

Qin Long and his wife were also eager for him to stay. Qin Yang had no choice but to agree. After chatting a while, he took Qin Yao out. Qin Ye, bored at home, tagged along, making small talk as they walked.

Looking at the busy but not particularly prosperous streets, Qin Yang felt a bit dazzled. “Where to, then? You’re the locals here.”

“How about going to an internet cafe?” Qin Ye suggested.

“That’s so boring.” Qin Yao objected. “You hardly use the computer at home, so what’s so good about a net cafe? Let’s go to the supermarket! There’s an arcade there, much more fun.”

Qin Ye nodded, unenthusiastic.

The three took a taxi to a shopping plaza. Though smaller than Tianfeng Mall, it was the best in this county. After buying some snacks and drinks, Qin Yao grabbed each of them by the hand and dragged them to the arcade on the fifth floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, deafening noise assaulted them.

“It’s really loud,” Qin Yang muttered.

Qin Yao, however, was thrilled, dragging them from game to game.

As they wandered, Qin Ye suddenly froze and walked off to the side. The other two glanced over and saw him talking to a girl—pretty enough, but dressed in a maturity that didn’t match her age.

“Who’s that?” Qin Yang asked.

“His ex,” Qin Yao replied, sipping her drink. “Name’s Liu Na, she’s with Liu Fei now. Qin Ye really had poor taste, falling for a girl like that. Look at him, still hung up and hoping to get back together.”

Suddenly, a crisp slap rang out. They saw poor Qin Ye standing there, stunned, holding his cheek, staring at Liu Na. She, haughty as ever, said coldly, “Qin Ye, you’ve reached a new low. So what if Liu Fei insulted you? Did you have to ambush him? Someone like you will never have a girl like you.”

“He fools around outside. I just feel sorry for you,” Qin Ye protested. “Don’t you see what kind of person he is? Why did I hit him? Because he’s always out carousing!”

“Don’t slander him here,” Liu Na sneered. “You think I’ll believe you? You’re just jealous his family’s richer than yours. You’re too childish.”

With that, Liu Na dragged off her companion.

Qin Yang sighed. “What a mess.”

“A real mess,” echoed a familiar voice. Qin Yang turned, startled, to see a girl of sixteen or seventeen, eyes bright and lively, wrapped in a white down jacket, standing with princess-like pride and squinting at him.

“Qin Wu? What are you doing here?” Qin Yang asked in surprise.

“I should be asking you that! Heartless—you never even think to hang out with me,” Qin Wu complained.

“Please, I’ve been busy,” Qin Yang rolled his eyes.

Qin Wu snorted, glancing at the bemused Qin Yao. “Busy? Doesn’t look that way to me.”

“This is my sister, Qin Yao. And this is Qin Wu. Great, all the Qins together,” Qin Yang said, exasperated.

Just then, Qin Ye walked over, looking utterly dejected, the mark of the slap still visible. People around pointed and whispered—who knew whether in sympathy or ridicule. Seeing him so downcast, Qin Yang frowned. “Just because a girl slapped you, you’re not going to do anything? Be a man for once.”

“It’s wrong to hit a woman,” Qin Yao interjected.

“Who said anything about hitting back physically?” Qin Yang shot her a look. He turned to Qin Ye. “Can’t you see what kind of woman she is?”

Qin Ye wiped his face. “I see it now.”

“Good, then it’s easy.” Qin Yang pulled Qin Wu over. “Little Wu, want to help?”

“No problem!” Qin Wu loved stirring up trouble, and with Qin Yang orchestrating, she knew it would be fun. She readily agreed.

Qin Yang took a bank card from his bag and tossed it to Qin Ye. “Here, take your temporary girlfriend shopping. There’s plenty of money in the card—spend as you wish. A man needs pride and face. I’ll give you some for today; earning more is up to you.”

Qin Ye stared, unsure what to do.

Qin Wu, impatient, dragged him away. “You dummy, let’s go. Qin Yang, everything I buy today belongs to me!”

Qin Yang didn’t mind. The money in the card was what Ji Lietiger had transferred—ill-gotten gains seized from Cao Xianhu. As Ji Lietiger put it, “No one will think a second-generation rich kid like you got this money from robbery.” Qin Yang never cared much for money anyway—if he ran out, he could always earn more, maybe as a Taoist exorcist or something.

Qin Wu, sharp-eyed and quick, soon spotted Liu Na and her companion at a cosmetics counter. Before they even got close, they saw a boy of seventeen or eighteen approach and put his arm around Liu Na—it must have been Liu Fei.

“Over here,” Qin Wu beckoned, but seeing Qin Ye so hesitant, she snapped, “And you call yourself Qin Yang’s brother? He dared to beat up the deputy mayor’s son at the Golden Pavilion. Look at you—can’t you act like a man? If you embarrass me, I’ll be the one shamed. I’m here to mess with them, not be dragged down by you.”

“Golden Pavilion… beat… deputy mayor’s son…” The words echoed in Qin Ye’s mind. He glanced at Qin Yang behind him and swallowed nervously. But with such a formidable figure at his back, he suddenly felt emboldened. If Qin Yang could beat up the deputy mayor’s son, what was Liu Fei, whose family just had a bit of money? He marched up to the cosmetics counter with Qin Wu.

Most of the brands here were domestic, with the occasional international label—Lancôme, Dior, or Clinique—though well beyond their age group’s budget. No wonder Liu Fei was hesitating under Liu Na’s expectant gaze.

“How much is this?” Liu Na asked, pointing to a Sylvieslan essence.

The saleswoman approached with a practiced international smile. “This is a fifty-percent pure active cellular essence, but you’re young and your skin is in great condition—I wouldn’t necessarily recommend this. If you’re interested in cosmetics, I have some suggestions…”

“How much is it? I’ll take it. For my mom,” Qin Ye interjected softly.

“Qin Ye?” Liu Fei bristled, but recalling his brother’s assurance that the matter was settled, he suppressed his anger.

The saleswoman, inwardly exasperated—what were these teens doing buying such products?—still replied, “This box is three thousand five hundred yuan.”

Qin Ye nearly gasped, but Qin Wu shot him a glare, so he maintained his composure.

“That’s expensive,” Liu Fei sneered. “Why bother looking?”

“Buy it for your mom. It’s the right age for her,” Qin Wu prompted, linking arms with Qin Ye sweetly. “It’s almost New Year—you should buy gifts for your elders.”

“I’ll take it,” Qin Ye replied, swallowing hard as he handed over the card. His hand trembled, unsure how much money was inside. But after entering the pin, the seven-digit balance flashed on the screen and his eyes nearly popped out. He’d expected a few thousand, not this…

“Make it two boxes—one for Mom, one for Aunt,” he told Qin Wu, emboldened. “New Year’s gifts.”

“Mm, mm.” Qin Wu, seeing the wealth, felt no guilt about taking advantage.

Liu Na’s face turned green, and Liu Fei’s wasn’t much better.

“How do you have that much money?” Liu Na stammered.

“I’ve always had it. You never asked,” Qin Ye shrugged, feigning indifference. “What about you, Liu Fei? Not buying any New Year gifts for your family? Maybe something for Liu Na’s mom? She is your girlfriend, after all.”

“Yes, yes, buy one! Families love gifts,” Qin Wu chimed in.

Just then, a brash voice cut in. “Well, well, who’s playing the big shot here? Qin Ye, it’s you, huh? And this lovely girl—your girlfriend? Not bad! Last week it was someone else, wasn’t it? Wow, all here now? You’ve got guts, Qin Ye—not afraid of fireworks clashing, I see.”

Qin Ye looked at the stranger, confused.

“What’s with that face? I just went to America for business and got a new hairstyle. World-class stylist—cost me hundreds of thousands! People lined up to get in, but I told them my name’s Huang Zequn, and they all came running.” The shameless Huang Zequn boasted. After seeing Qin Yang nod in acknowledgment, Qin Ye understood and retorted, “What a ridiculous hairstyle. Cutting-edge fashion is all about bromance these days—sure you weren’t just groomed?”

“Screw you!” Huang Zequn cursed, stifled.

“Tao, bro!” Over on the other side, as Qin Ye and Huang Zequn bantered, Liu Fei spotted a familiar face. “Tao, what brings you here?”

“Just hanging out. You too, with your girlfriend?” Tao was a hefty man of twenty-three or four, over two hundred pounds on a five-foot-seven frame, with a pretty, well-developed young girl at his side, the two a mismatched pair.

“Hey, Liu Fei, that’s harsh—meeting your ex’s new boyfriend, huh?” Tao clearly knew Qin Ye, his tone mocking. “Heard you got beat up—doesn’t that sting? And you,” he pointed at Qin Ye, “daring to hit my little brother—you must be blind.”

Qin Ye, aware of Tao’s clout, paled and trembled. Qin Wu, frustrated, nearly stamped her foot—why was Qin Yang’s brother so spineless?

But Huang Zequn glared, “Where’s this meathead from? Daring to insult my brother? With a scrawny guy, you think you’re something? Even if you were noodles, you’d be beef noodles—extra thick. Look at all that fat squeezing your eyes shut—haven’t you heard of cataracts?”

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Tao, furious, shoved his companion aside, fists raised.

“You want to fight? You think you’re tough? Qin, your turn!” Huang Zequn, pragmatic, knew he’d lose a brawl against this guy and quickly called for backup.

In a flash, Qin Yang stepped in front of Huang Zequn, slapped away Tao’s hand, then landed a crisp slap on his cheek. Huang Zequn took the opportunity to kick Tao’s belly, but bounced back seven or eight steps from the recoil. Tao, holding his stinging face, stared at Qin Yang in disbelief. “You dare hit me? My dad’s the county chief!”

“I’ve beaten up the mayor’s son,” Qin Yang said scornfully. “Who do you think you are?”