Chapter 252: Fate Points the Way

Again, spring arrived in March.

Hong Kong Island's four seasons are indistinct; the sensation is merely shifting from scorching to even hotter, and even when fine rain drifted down from the sky, it brought no chilling relief.

That day, Saturday, afternoon, public housing estate.

Ruan Mei widened her beautiful eyes, her visible unease making her dare not even breathe as she watched Wang Yan, who had placed his hand on her wrist, eyes closed, deeply sensing.

After a long while, Wang Yan removed his hand and smiled, ruffling Ruan Mei's hair: "Why so nervous? Didn't you go to the hospital last year for a heart checkup? Aside from your heart structure being slightly different from normal people's, isn't its function the same?"

"You said it wasn't fully cured—what if something unexpected happens…" Ruan Mei pushed his hand away from her head and said, "Just tell me already, how is it really?"

"Alright, completely cured." Wang Yan said. "From now on, you can run if you want, jump if you want, laugh loudly when happy, cry loudly when sad—no more worrying you won't wake up from sleep."

"Really? You're not lying to me?"

Seeing Wang Yan nod firmly, Ruan Mei let out a shriek and clung to him, kissing him frantically: "Cured! It's cured!"

After kissing him, she didn't even look at Wang Yan, ran across to the old woman, and said: "Granny, my illness is gone—I'll never have to worry again." Then, Ruan Mei hugged the old woman and burst into loud sobs, releasing years of pressure.

She had once feared she would die, feared the old woman would be left unattended, feared dying before spending her money, feared never seeing the world's vibrancy, feared never experiencing life's richness. Now, her illness was gone, she had a good man, a good life, a bright future, and the old woman was still robust, likely to live another ten or eight years—this was bittersweet, tearful joy.

Wang Yan didn't disturb the grandmother and granddaughter, shook his head, and sipped his tea alone.

This mission was Ruan Mei's "Don't Die of Illness," but now that her heart condition was cured, he hadn't received the system's "Live Dad" mission completion notice—likely because Ruan Mei still wasn't confident, or feared she might fall ill again. He'd anticipated this, otherwise he wouldn't have been so relaxed. After all, she'd only been under treatment for a year and a half; many of his plans hadn't been implemented yet. Leaving now would be pointless.

Of course, it might also be that the system "Live Dad" was looking out for him, knowing his thoughts, giving him time… Live Dad really is a good dad.

After a while, Ruan Mei, eyes red, leaned against Wang Yan: "You said… you said my illness was inherited from my parents—then… could it… could it be passed on to our child… child?"

"Highly unlikely, given how strong I am. Even if inherited, no problem—I'll cure your child the same way I cured you." Wang Yan pulled Ruan Mei into his arms. "So, you want a child?"

In his three hundred years, he'd fathered countless children; in his "Huaxia Empire," he'd even had a baby boom, fathering forty-six sons and daughters—all of whom grew up perfectly healthy, none dying young. He figured the system "Live Dad" had blessed them with his robust genes, granting them strong bodies. Thus, even if Ruan Mei carried a familial genetic flaw, the chance of transmission was likely minimal.

"I… I don't."

"What if I said we get married in June…"

"Really?" Ruan Mei stiffened, blurted out, then immediately corrected herself: "Who'd marry you, you loser? Annoying." After over a year with Wang Yan, it was impossible she hadn't thought about it—but he never spoke first, and she herself had inherited heart disease, so I

"I see…" Wang Yan nodded seriously and smiled. "Then I must've misunderstood. How about we wait until next year?"

"No!" Without hesitation, Ruan Mei jumped up, then, seeing the smirk on Wang Yan's lips, punched him playfully: "You're always teasing me, you're so annoying…"

Wang Yan said: "In two months, I'll take you on a trip, get some wedding photos taken. Lately, whenever you're free, browse wedding dresses—tell me what you want, and I'll arrange it. I'll have time to accompany you."

Ruan Mei stopped, sighed happily: "Mm."

"Also, now that you're cured, don't slack off—you need to exercise. A new gym just opened; go more often. If you want others to come, open it; if not, just train alone—it doesn't matter. I've already hired an instructor; just follow along."

Ruan Mei still needed to maintain exercise volume, improve cardiopulmonary capacity, and stabilize her current organ circulation. This trivial matter didn't require his intervention—it'd be like using a cannon to swat a fly. Besides, it was too late to teach her martial arts or physical cultivation; daily fitness and yoga were enough.

"Okay." Ruan Mei replied, then thought and added: "But I think we should open it—could earn some money."

Wang Yan knew she'd say that. He'd given her tens of millions in Hong Kong dollars over this time, but her stingy habits were hard to break—she'd rather not spend than spend, and never let a chance to earn slip away.

"By the way, I bought two thousand-square-foot apartments in Sha Tin Centre—we'll live there for the wedding. Just stay there temporarily until the building in the North District is finished, then move there."

A ninety-square-meter two-bedroom apartment was a bit too small, so he bought two adjacent units on the top floor and merged them. As for the North District, after this period of friction, the land had finally fallen into Long Teng's hands. He'd bought plenty of plots and even purchased a hill by the sea—once developed, it would become a luxury villa with a private garden.

There's also a planned Long Teng headquarters building there, with two subsidiary towers flanking the main building and connected to it. The main tower is ninety-five stories, the subsidiary towers fifty-nine stories—estimated construction time: three to five years. The top two floors of the main tower will serve as my residence—pool, gym, home theater, all installed; a garden on the rooftop too. Occasionally staying there with Ruan Mei will be quite enjoyable.

In the future, Long Teng's operations will expand southward from the North District; factories and such can be dealt with later. If they don't move, I'll help them. Hong Kong Island is geographically limited—unsuitable for industrial production. As times progress, rising labor costs and other factors make it increasingly unprofitable. Just like Hong Kong's later reliance on finance, services, and international trade—this is the inevitable trend.

Ruan Mei stared at Wang Yan in surprise: "When did you buy them? How come I didn't know?"

"Brother Wang isn't who he used to be—he's got money to burn. Buying a house? Easy."

"Annoying—you didn't even tell me about something this big, and I wanted to decorate it myself…" Ruan Mei punched him again.

"There's no furniture yet—I'm waiting for you to decorate. I'll take you there right now to see." Wang Yan hugged Ruan Mei again. "Just temporary—won't take two years before we move. If you really want to get involved, tomorrow I'll bring the villa contractor over—while construction's still early, tell him exactly what you want. Once it's built, it'll be too late."

It wasn't that Wang Yan didn't tell Ruan Mei—he just knew she had a tiny budget, spent money like it cost her life, and would make a mess anyway. Besides, he was well-versed in both Eastern and Western aesthetics, had studied design for a while, and his taste was undeniably ahead of its time.

Ruan Mei nodded: "Alright then."

"Come on, take Granny—we're going now."

Then, with the old woman, Wang Yan drove Ruan Mei, still nervous, to the Sha Tin Centre apartments.

Though Ruan Mei had tens of millions in her account, it was just numbers—nothing like a real house standing before her. She walked back and forth, unable to believe it. Public housing was government aid—everyone dreamed of owning their own home. Now that the day had come, Ruan Mei even shed tears. The old woman was calmer, wearing reading glasses and leaning on her cane, slowly walking through the rooms with a smile.

This was Wang Yan's fault—he'd never taken Ruan Mei to see the world; her horizons were too narrow. She'd get used to it with time.

After viewing the apartment, Wang Yan summoned a female assistant and told her to accompany Ruan Mei to buy interior furnishings. To prevent Ruan Mei from bringing back cheap, shoddy fakes, he set a spending target: if she didn't spend enough, she'd get a spanking.

Ruan Mei was too happy to pay attention to Wang Yan, so he arranged for the old woman to be taken back to the public housing estate, then drove himself to a hotel—not the nearby one…

After his indulgence, Wang Yan held Luo Huiling in one arm, caressing her curves, and with the other, held a cigarette, puffing smoke.

"A subordinate told me Ding Xie has cancer. Ding Xiaoxie and the others paid a lot of money—they're very likely to get him pardoned for medical treatment."

Luo Huiling sat up instantly, completely unconcerned about her exposed body: "He got cancer—it's heaven's retribution. Let him die in prison. Why let him out?"

"They're all after money." Wang Yan laughed, pulling the agitated Luo Huiling into his arms. "Ding Xiaoxie bribed the hospital doctors to falsify the tests, and the prison officials too—it was easy."

Ding Xiaoxie and the others still pulled off this move to get Ding Xie out of prison. But compared to the original plot, it's months later—and those months are the result of my Wang Mou's deterrence. Earlier, because I sided with the Fang family, Ding Xiaoxie couldn't tell what my stance was.

Long Teng was simply too powerful, growing too fast, and the Zhongqing Society relied heavily on Long Teng's market territory. Ding Xiaoxie was terrified—he'd been bullied and humiliated, and had to swallow his anger. He didn't dare lead a rebellion against Long Teng, nor did he want to lose so much money over this. So after Ding Xie spent half a year in prison, confirmed no one was mistreating him, the prison accepted their bribes and showed favor, and saw that Wang Yan made no move, only then did they begin arranging Ding Xie's release.

Wang Yan received this news only yesterday, knowing Ding Xie had gone for medical checks. Without doubt, it'll happen within days.

But to be fair, this plot point in the drama really lacks dignity. A notorious drug trafficker, smuggler, organized prostitution ring leader, gambling den owner, loan shark, extortionist, illegal gun owner—someone who committed every evil, killed without blinking—actually personally bribing a few lowly hospital doctors? It's downright embarrassing.

Even Xu Guanwen, the brainless brute who hasn't appeared in ages, wouldn't stoop to such a thing—it's too degrading. Speaking of Xu Guanwen, it's not that his big brother Wang Yan refuses to help him—this kid only knows fighting, drinking, bedding girls, or holed up in the gym building muscles. He's just not trainable.

No choice—Wang Yan gave him a nominal title, ten-level benefits, arranged a boxing event, assigned him a few smart subordinates to manage. That's Wang Yan, the big brother, not neglecting the old man—he can just eat and wait to die. Consider it a symbol.

Of course, mainly because Wang Yan didn't need to bother. Just like those two idiots from the New World. But learning-wise, wasn't he kicked out for learning Korean? Still spoke it decently. Similarly, Xu Guanwen could be kicked out too—Wang Yan just didn't care. You're not a fish, how do you know the fish's joy? Let him do as he pleases.

After hearing Wang Yan out, Luo Huiling's eyes darted: "Ah Yan, can you…"

"I know what you mean. Don't worry—Ding Xie won't enjoy his freedom long. Just wait and see." Wang Yan cut her off. "You don't need to fear—he won't dare come bother you."

He'd thought of this before, but eliminating Zhongqing Society now was pointless. He'd wait until Long Teng seized Tuen Mun, Yuen Long, and fully took control of the New Territories. Zhongqing Society is just one of many gangs trafficking drugs on his territory—crushing it might cause unnecessary misunderstandings with other drug syndicates. He had no intention of acting soon, so he'd proceed slowly.

But as always: sooner or later, they'll be dealt with. The Ding family—father and five sons—each one, without exception, will pay.

Luo Huiling said no more, just nestled against Wang Yan, feeling the calm after the storm.

We've known each other this long; she knows Wang Yan keeps his word. If he said it, he'll do it—her endless babbling only annoys people and ruins feelings, which isn't nice.

After a little more tenderness, Wang Yan bid farewell to Luo Huiling, washed up, then drove off.

Fate has its own path; Wang Yan didn't dwell on it—he too felt an invisible hand gripping his collar, forcing him along a predetermined course.

This thought came to him as he left the hotel, speeding alone in his car, when he spotted Long Jiwén, driving a convertible sports car, surrounded and cornered by several other luxury sports cars, clearly belonging to wealthy Young Masters.

Long Jiwén hadn't met Fang Zhanbo by hitching a taxi and thus set off a chain of events—instead, she met him in this clichéd way. Honestly, Wang Yan had thought he'd never even begin anything with Long Jiwén; after all, he lived a reclusive, regular life, rarely venturing beyond a few places. He couldn't even find words to describe the damn mess in his chest, only sighing at fate's unpredictability.

This was precisely the bustling Causeway Bay; these wealthy Young Masters swerved carelessly, drove the wrong way, and showed off their driving skills—clearly backed by tycoons and justices of the peace. Not all second-generation heirs are trash, nor are all of them perfect. Especially in Hong Kong Island, which once followed Great Qing law, where polygamy with one wife and multiple concubines was common among great families.

Of course, he'd encountered such people before—but Wang Yan usually ignored them, just watching lazily as they showed off. One reason: he wasn't in a hurry. Another: dealing with these fools wasn't worth the trouble. But this time was different—since fate pointed this way, he had to step up.

Wang Yan's car was still the Mercedes-Benz originally sponsored by Ding Xiaoxie. He immediately slammed the accelerator, surged forward, weaved past several cars, then executed a perfect drift to block the entire road. Compared to these wastrels, their antics were child's play. He didn't dodge—he blocked both lanes outright.

Long Jiwén and the wastrels all slowed and came to a stop before Wang Yan. Then came the sound of car doors opening and closing as seven or eight men surrounded him.

Wang Yan leaned against his car. Before these men could curse his mother or hurl insults, he held up three fingers and spoke calmly: "I'm Wang Yan. Disappear in thirty seconds."

One of them scanned him up and down, then laughed bitterly: "Fuck your mother! Don't think just because you drive a Mercedes and wear ragged clothes you're Wang Yan. Do you even know who I am? I'm—"

Hearing this, it was clear they'd all heard of Wang Yan—otherwise they wouldn't have uttered this joke known across Hong Kong. Once, mere petty thugs didn't matter—but since Qiang Shen Wan became famous and his businesses expanded after Long Teng's rise, Wang Yan's name became known to everyone in Hong Kong. Even though he still practiced medicine, over time people grew used to him, and his presence faded. Unless Long Teng did something big, most wouldn't pay attention.

These men had all seen Wang Yan's photo—after all, as playboys, knowing who not to provoke was basic. But since their memories were vague and time had passed, suddenly someone claiming to be Wang Yan was naturally met with disbelief. If they believed every random name thrown out, how could they ever maintain their status?

Wang Yan stepped forward and slapped the boy hard, sending him sprawling. He held up two fingers: "Twenty seconds left."

Seeing his arrogance, one man, feeling obligated to defend his peers, charged forward with a fist raised, cursing. Wang Yan delivered a spinning kick—sending him farther than the boy had been thrown. Then he stopped playing around; there was barely any time left, clearly insufficient for them to vanish—so Wang Yan moved in, striking fast and hard.

When Wang Yan finished, crowds had gathered on both sides of the road, and cars were backed up for a long stretch. The vehicles ahead could still watch the spectacle without urgency, but those behind were frantically honking, mixed with the chatter of onlookers—total chaos.

Such a commotion couldn't be ignored by the uniformed police on patrol—they rushed over, blowing their whistles.

"What's going on? You wanna spend two days in jail?" He glanced at the parked cars, silently estimating their value, then softened his tone: "Take your dispute to the station. Right now, everyone cooperate—move your cars immediately. Don't obstruct traffic."

This officer knew how to handle things. Though he could tell everyone here was rich or powerful, and likely beyond his control, with so many spectators, he had to take someone away. Otherwise, complaints would pile up—it wasn't worth the trouble.

Wang Yan had no objection. He got back in his car and made a string of calls—to his underlings, to legal counsel, to the police bureau. Then, alongside the groaning Young Masters and Long Jiwén—who hadn't left her car since the start—he headed to the Eastern District Police Station.