Chapter 103

(Big brothers, please forgive me—I drank too much yesterday, and today I've got something to take care of; next time, barring accidents, it'll go back to the usual rhythm.)

Wang Yan didn't hit them too hard; it wasn't realistic to cripple so many people. Aside from Liu Jinhu, most just had superficial injuries. A bit of red flower oil, and they'd be fine in ten days to half a month.

"Sss… fuck him, this kid's really fucking strong."

"Yeah, all of us together and he still took us down—owww…"

Seeing Wang Yan walk away, the group exhaled deeply, groaning and cursing as they struggled to their feet.

"Brother Hu, you okay? This bastard's too damn strong."

"Yeah, Brother Hu, is your leg still alright…?"

Two of them, quick to read the situation, stepped forward to help lift Liu Jinhu together.

Someone else snapped out of it and hurried over to help: "Brother Hu, are we just gonna accept this?"

Liu Jinhu gritted his teeth against the pain as the three of them lifted him up. He snapped, "We all went after him and still lost—what else can we do? Are we gonna kill him over this little thing?"

Is killing that easy? He might brag about it normally, but when it came to real action, he didn't have the guts. Liu Jinhu knew his own limits—he wasn't a real outlaw, just a petty thug who relied on his brute strength to gather a gang and boss people around.

As for hiring someone even tougher to take care of Wang Yan, he thought about it and immediately gave up. He'd just seen Wang Yan's calm, chilling brutality—it terrified him just thinking about it. He'd met men with murder on their hands, but none were this ruthless. If you couldn't kill him outright, don't provoke him—he wasn't ready to die yet.

Seeing the others slowly gather around him, Liu Jinhu put on a casual air: "Alright, don't be resentful. That guy's clearly trained—he's a martial artist. We got beat fair and square. I'm the big brother here, and even my leg nearly got broken, and I didn't say a word. So what's with all the sour faces? No deep grudges here. Just be polite when you see him from now on."

"That guy… Zhao Jiaqing—where is he?"

Someone outside called out: "Brother Hu, they're right here."

The men standing in front of Liu Jinhu wisely stepped aside, revealing Zhao Jiaqing and the others trembling and shivering on the outside.

Facing a sea of hostile stares, Zhao Jiaqing, a man who knew how to read the room, dropped to his knees with a sharp slap and stammered: "Brother Hu, I didn't know he was this strong, I swear—I…"

The others quickly followed suit, dropping to their knees too.

"Brother Hu, you're a man of great tolerance…"

"Yeah, Brother Hu, we didn't mean to…"

………

The group clamored loudly, begging for forgiveness—yesterday they got beaten, today they got beaten again, and now it looked like another beating was coming. They couldn't take it anymore. Worse still, regardless of whether they'd been set up or not, they definitely had to pay Wang Yan back. And hiring Brother Hu wasn't free—they'd promised him money too. They simply couldn't afford this; it was pushing them to the brink.

Liu Jinhu snapped impatiently: "Enough! Shut up, stop yelling." Seeing them stop begging and stare at him, trembling, he continued: "I didn't get it done, so I've got no face to ask you for money. Running into a hard opponent isn't your fault. Let it go."

Without caring for the men sobbing thanks on the ground, he was helped away by his men.

He didn't want to let Zhao Jiaqing and the others off easy—but after getting beaten so badly and shamefully backing down, his authority had plummeted. Now, acting like a man of principle and righteousness, he was trying to salvage some face, to rebuild the morale of his scattered gang. It was a method he'd refined over years of street life, using his own clever mind. After a while, when the incident cooled and faded, he'd be Brother Hu again, ruling Chengnan.

Seeing Liu Jinhu and his men leave, Zhao Jiaqing and the others wiped sweat from their foreheads and exhaled deeply, collapsing to the ground.

They looked at each other, silent for a long time.

After a while, Zhang Jun said: "Where the hell are we gonna get that much money? We can't really give him our house…"

"What else can we do?"

"Sigh…"

With a sigh, they pushed themselves up.

Noticing Zhao Jiaqing still staring blankly, Zhang Jun nudged him: "What are you still standing there for? Come on—borrow whatever you can, just scrape together something…"

Though Zhao Jiaqing had started it and they'd all been tempted, human nature being what it is, none of them could truly say they didn't blame him. But now they were this desperate—blaming each other was useless. Wang Yan was this strong, even Brother Hu had backed down. They had no intention of dodging the debt—they had to pay, all of them.

"Ah… oh…"

Zhao Jiaqing snapped out of it, grimacing as he stood: "Where the hell are we gonna get that much money? Who's gonna lend it to us?"

Zhang Jun and the others fell silent.

None of them were honest, hardworking people—they just liked playing cards in their free time. Relatives and friends all knew what kind of scum they were. Borrowing money was hard enough, let alone this much.

"Then what else can you suggest besides selling the house?"

Zhao Jiaqing thought for a moment and said: "Let's go… find our leader…"

………

Wang Dashan worked quietly, occasionally stealing glances at Wang Yan not far away.

After calming down, he roughly understood what had happened—Wang Yan clearly hadn't lost much, otherwise Zhao Jiaqing and the others wouldn't have gotten so furious and gathered so many people.

But he'd heard of Liu Jinhu—this guy was a big shot around here, a real boss. Wang Yan had beaten him like that and even taken five thousand from him. Wang Dashan had lived his whole life as an honest, law-abiding man, never seen anything like this, and he was genuinely unsettled.

After thinking for a long time, Wang Dashan walked over and squatted beside Wang Yan: "Maybe… maybe we should just let it go. Better to avoid trouble. They're not people to mess with—we can't handle them."

Wang Yan understood what he meant—a regular citizen just wanted to live in peace. But he didn't realize that many things and people, when you give them three feet, take three yards. Especially guys like Zhao Jiaqing and Liu Jinhu—they were classic bullies who picked on the weak.

"We've already made them our enemies—if we just let it go, they'll think we're easy targets. Besides, that money was hard-earned. How can we just give it up?" Wang Yan sat on the ground, unconcerned. "Just relax. I can handle this myself. It won't affect you."

Wang Dashan understood the logic, but he couldn't shake his old habit of thinking "step back and the world opens up."

Hearing Wang Yan's words, he thought Wang Yan misunderstood him—he was afraid of being dragged in, unwilling to take responsibility. Wang Dashan quickly opened his mouth to explain: "That's not what I meant—I just…"

Wang Yan waved him off: "I know you. Don't overthink it. They're just relying on numbers. You've seen my strength—those guys before? Even if there were ten times as many, it wouldn't matter."

"Hey… I just realized—when did you get so strong?"

Wang Yan casually showed off a couple of moves and grinned: "You know I've got tons of books at home—two of them on martial arts. I just practiced on my own. Enough of this—get back to work. We're eating meat tonight."

Ignoring Wang Dashan's skeptical look, Wang Yan drank some water and went back to work.

Seeing his resolve, Wang Dashan, though still uneasy, said nothing more. He stood and returned to his labor, head down.