Chapter 94: Resolution

In a blink, half a month passed.

Aside from Qu Xiaoxiao briefly exchanging harsh words with Fan Shengmei, who was accompanied by Fan’s mother and nephew, nothing happened.

Since Qu Lianjie secured a major client and the project began, Qu Xiaoxiao had been working hard to prove herself. Though her efforts were likely overshadowed by Qu Lianjie’s brilliance, it was still a glimmer of hope.

At this point, playing the victim for sympathy was useless. So she hadn’t returned to the miserable little apartment of Happy Song in ages, instead moving back into the Qu family’s villa, where she hovered daily before Qu Yongquan, playing the dutiful daughter.

Fan Shengmei wasn’t at ease—every extra day her father spent in the hospital meant another day’s expenses, pouring like water she couldn’t afford. Only after confirming his post-op recovery was stable and he could be discharged did she quickly pack up, planning to send her father back to their hometown.

At the hospital entrance, Wang Yan, Zhao Qiping, and Wang Baichuan together lifted Fan’s father onto the chauffeur-driven car. After Fan Shengmei and Fan’s mother loaded scattered personal items into the vehicle, they walked over to An Di and the others, pointing behind them: “I’ll ride in this car—you follow us.”

An Di nodded: “Alright, don’t worry.”

Fan Shengmei paused, then said: “Thank you, An Di. You and Wang Yan have helped me so much.” She knew An Di had begged Wang Yan—otherwise, given his usual attitude toward her, he’d never have lifted a finger.

“Nothing to thank me for,” An Di shook her head. “Oh, by the way—has your brother come back? Have you notified all the debt collectors?” This was what Wang Yan had told them: to call her brother home to resolve it together.

Fan Shengmei nodded: “I’ve notified them. They’ll be waiting at my place.”

To be honest, she had no confidence. Those people weren’t easy to deal with—she didn’t know if Wang Yan could handle it. But she’d seen his combat ability firsthand; if he failed, adding Wang Baichuan’s two strong men should at least ensure their safety. This problem had to be solved eventually—it couldn’t be escaped—and she had no other option, so she chose to believe.

“Good, let’s go then.”

Fan Shengmei nodded and got into the front car.

Watching Guan Juer embrace Zhao Qiping, Qiu Yingying—who’d been dragged along—sat quietly in the back seat.

Zhao Qiping closed the back door and tapped on the driver’s window: “For the next couple days, take care of Xiao Guan—you two look after her well.”

Wang Yan gave him a cool glance and silently rolled up the window.

Watching Zhao Qiping outside, furious but helpless, Qiu Yingying leaned against Guan Juer—who had a faint blush—and burst into laughter, avenging her missed chance to work overtime happily.

After An Di fastened her seatbelt and waved goodbye to Zhao Qiping, Wang Yan started the car and followed the lead vehicle.

On the road, Wang Yan drove attentively while the three women chatted merrily. The conversation drifted from daily life to Fan Shengmei’s situation, then turned to Fan Shengmei and Wang Baichuan.

Wang Baichuan had truly been putting in effort lately—due to work, he shuttled between Tongzhou and Shanghai. Outside work, he handled housing matters in Tongzhou and spent his time in Shanghai at the hospital, tending to filth and waste without complaint, hoping to move heaven, earth, and Fan Shengmei. And indeed, as he wished, their relationship had slowly warmed and improved.

Guan Juer sighed: “Wang classmate is truly kind to Sister Fan.”

“Hmm… he is nice, but I feel like Sister Fan’s attitude toward Wang Baichuan is… kind of… uh… I can’t quite describe it, but something feels off between them.”

Hearing this, Wang Yan glanced at Qiu Yingying’s furrowed brow through the rearview mirror. Whether due to a woman’s intuition or recent growth, she’d indeed noticed something unusual. In her original personality, Qiu Yingying would’ve confronted Fan Shengmei directly—but now, she’d clearly improved.

An Di knew the full story, but telling them wouldn’t be wise: “Really? I didn’t notice anything.”

Guan Juer nodded: “Yeah, I didn’t sense anything either. Qiu Yingying, are you sure you’re not imagining it?”

Their skepticism made Qiu Yingying doubt herself—but she brushed it off. She knew Fan Shengmei was experienced, battle-hardened, and could read men like open books. Even if something was off between her and Wang Baichuan, it wasn’t her concern—no need to overthink it.

With a dismissive wave, Qiu Yingying asked: “What’s good to eat in Tongzhou?”

Guan Juer smiled: “I knew you’d love food—I researched Tongzhou’s specialties. There’s…”

Shanghai to Nantong wasn’t far—just over three hours by car, thanks to Wang Baichuan’s slow driving and a mid-journey rest. Without delays, they’d have arrived in under two hours.

Wang Yan followed the lead car into an old residential complex and stopped in front of one building.

A group of roughly seven or eight men loitering below, already swarming over before the car fully stopped.

An Di warned: “Be careful.”

Guan Juer looked tense: “Yes, Brother Wang, they look like bad people.”

“Now I understand why Fan’s parents and brother ran away,” Qiu Yingying said, utterly confident in Wang Yan. “Poor Sister Fan.”

“Qiu Yingying, at a time like this, how can you…”

Wang Yan turned off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and said: “Enough, don’t worry—it’s fine. Everyone, get out.” He opened the door and stepped out.

Fan Shengmei and the others also stepped out nervously, watching the group warily. Fan’s mother didn’t dare utter a sound.

Wang Yan stepped forward: “We’ll deal with this later—first, get the patient inside. Wait a moment.”

Without even glancing at them, he turned to the group: “You two carry the patient upstairs. I’ll handle this—you wait for the outcome. Oh, and tell your brother and sister-in-law to come down.” He looked at Fan Shengmei.

Fan Shengmei nodded silently, her legs trembling with nerves.

No one delayed. Wang Baichuan lifted Fan’s father and carried him into the stairwell. Fan Shengmei sprinted upstairs to call her brother and sister-in-law down.

Ignoring their movements, Wang Yan pulled out his phone and dialed: “Hello? Lawyer Zhang, are you here yet?”

He saw a car parked nearby open its door, and a man stepped out, waving at him.

Qiu Yingying, lagging behind, spotted Lawyer Zhang and waved cheerfully: “Lawyer Brother, hi!”

He smiled and greeted her, then walked to Wang Yan, bowed slightly, and said, “Mr. Wang,” standing behind him.

Qiu Yingying happily told Guan Juer about how Lawyer Zhang had helped her claim compensation.

In this tense atmosphere, Guan Juer had no such calmness—she quickly pulled Qiu Yingying inside.

With everyone gone, the group stared at Wang Yan’s car and the elite-looking man standing behind him, hesitant to act.

After a while, Fan Shengmei and Wang Baichuan emerged, guiding Fan’s brother and sister-in-law—who shuffled forward with two steps forward, one step back.

Without waiting for her to speak, Wang Yan said: “You two go upstairs. You’re not needed here.”

Wang Baichuan couldn’t leave—not morally or emotionally: “Xiao Mei, you go up. I’ll stay and monitor the situation.”

Fan Shengmei glanced at Wang Yan, then at her trembling brother and sister-in-law, hesitated, then nodded and went upstairs.

Ignoring Wang Baichuan, Wang Yan stepped forward two paces to Fan Shengying, placing a hand on his shoulder: “Fan Shengying, right? Stand straight. Don’t be afraid.”

Fan Shengying had returned only because Fan Shengmei had insisted on the phone, suppressing her fury and spinning a tale that painted Wang Yan as a monstrous tyrant, nearly the top boss of Shanghai. Though he didn’t fully believe it, he knew running wouldn’t solve anything—it wasn’t sustainable. He had no choice but to return.

Seeing Wang Yan brought only one man, he thought: You think this will scare me? He shoved Wang Yan’s hand away: “You’re just bringing me back to die?”

Wang Yan frowned and slapped him hard across the face: “Can you listen?”

Fan Shengying’s wife lunged to scratch Wang Yan: “How dare you hit someone?!”

Wang Yan slapped her aside, then turned and backhanded Fan Shengying—who’d just regained his senses and was raising his fist—sending him crashing to the ground: “Can you listen?”

Wang Baichuan, the thugs, and Lawyer Zhang all froze in shock—Who the hell are you even with?

Wang Yan meant to solve this completely.

Fan Shengying, a grown man, had no spine against outsiders, yet always dumped his messes on his parents and sister. He did nothing but drift through life, lazy and idle—what good was the little money he made? Just to squeeze his parents, who’d then squeeze Fan Shengmei?

Fan Shengying’s wife, clutching her face, opened her mouth to scream—but Wang Yan ignored her, calmly saying: “Best keep quiet. Otherwise, I’ll slap you again.”

The woman, mid-scream, choked it back with a hiccup. She silently covered her face, tears streaming, too afraid to speak. Even those thugs weren’t this brutal—her face was numb.

“Wang Yan, I—”

Wang Baichuan wanted to speak, but seeing Wang Yan’s cool gaze, wisely shut his mouth.

Fan Shengying shook his head, staggered upright, and stepped back two paces, hands clutching his swollen face.

Wang Yan asked: “Can you listen?”

“Y-yes… yes…” Under pressure, one must bow. Those two slaps terrified him—his cheeks were numb, his speech slurred. He was starting to believe Fan Shengmei’s exaggerated warnings.

Seeing him quiet, Wang Yan turned to the stunned thugs: “Who’s the leader?”

Because Wang Yan had slapped Fan Shengying and his wife at the building entrance, the narrow windows above were blocked from view. A group of women upstairs, unaware of what happened, would’ve called the police if not for the thugs’ stunned expressions. Now seeing Wang Yan step forward, they leaned in intently, ready to call for help at the first sign of trouble.

The lead thug—a slightly overweight man with a small beard and a menacing face—snarled: “Don’t think slapping us will scare me. I’m not afraid of your tricks. Let’s talk straight—”

Wang Yan had no patience for his bluster—he slapped him too, then lunged forward and delivered a brutal beating before anyone could react.

These men were truly despicable—preying on the helpless, driving people to the brink. Wang Yan guessed that, had no one intervened, they’d have slowly stripped Fan’s family of both homes. They’d likely done their homework—this was their original goal. Such things happened.

After a while, Wang Yan kicked the loudest mouth one last time, ignoring the groaning men sprawled on the ground: “Lawyer Zhang, please give them a legal lesson.” He hadn’t gone too hard—mostly superficial injuries. They’d heal in days, but ache for a long time.

Lawyer Zhang winced, watching it all hurt him too. He stepped forward, crouched slowly before the leader, and said: “Sir, hello. Let me introduce myself—”

The women upstairs, having witnessed everything, stared in stunned silence—except Qiu Yingying, who smirked as if she’d known it all along. Even An Di, who knew Wang Yan best, was speechless. She trained with him every morning, yet had never seen him this powerful. She could only conclude: his body was simply extraordinary.

Qiu Yingying grinned: “I told you it’d be fine.”

An Di exhaled, nodded: “Alright, Fan Xiao Mei, don’t worry—this is basically over.”

Fan Shengmei had been frozen for minutes—suddenly, the weight of years vanished, leaving her disoriented. Hearing An Di call her, she snapped back, tears welling instantly: “An Di, thank you so much. Thank you so, so much.”

“It’s nothing, Fan Xiao Mei. Didn’t you help me before?” An Di couldn’t bear her crying: “Enough. This trip was hard—go check on your father.”

Fan Shengmei nodded, forcing a genuine smile through her tears, and walked to the room where Fan’s father was resting.

Wang Yan approached the trembling Fan Shengying: “You’ve seen your father’s condition. I paid for the surgery, so you’ll sell your house to repay me. Any objections?”

Fan Shengying instinctively wanted to curse—but meeting Wang Yan’s gaze, he asked cautiously: “Then… where will my wife and I and the kids live?”

“That’s your problem. But listen: First, don’t break the law. Second, if I find you squeezing money from your parents again—making them squeeze Fan Shengmei—I’ll break your leg. If you don’t learn, I’ll break the other. If you still don’t learn…” The implication was clear. Wang Yan asked calmly: “Understood?”

Power favored the strong. Though he seethed, seeing Wang Yan’s demeanor and the thugs lying on the ground, Fan Shengying had no choice: “Y-yes… understood.”

“Alright, you’re done. Go home.” Wang Yan waved them off. He and Lawyer Zhang, now with the bruised-bearded thug in tow, headed to the hospital to finish the rest.

Wang Yan couldn’t challenge the entire medical industry—but that so-called relative exploiting his position to overprescribe drugs? He’d make sure to deal with him. After all, how many people had he harmed?

Wang Baichuan and Fan Shengying’s couple returned home. Everyone stared at Fan Shengying’s swollen cheeks and his wife’s puffed-up face.

Fan’s mother froze, tears bursting forth. She rushed over, three steps, two strides: “Didn’t Xiao Mei’s friend handle this for you? How did you end up like this?” She reached out to touch Fan Shengying’s face—then barely glanced at his wife.

The touch made Fan Shengying wince—he quickly pulled away.

Seeing her son like this, Fan’s mother couldn’t stand it: “Xiao Mei! What kind of friend is this? Look what he did to your brother! Oh my, how could he hit so hard?!”

Fan Shengmei ignored her mother, gave An Di an apologetic look, then pulled Wang Baichuan aside: “Baichuan, what exactly happened?”

“Well, Wang Yan…” Wang Baichuan recounted everything that had happened downstairs, then added: “Your brother won’t cause trouble again—I think he’s genuinely terrified.”

Fan Shengmei nodded, unsure whether to feel relief or sorrow. Wang Yan had solved her family’s mess—she should be grateful. But then she thought: Fan Shengying was her own brother. Was beating him really the only way?

After learning the truth, Fan Shengmei came out to comfort her mother.

An Di asked Wang Baichuan: “Where’s Wang Yan?”

“He went to the hospital with the lawyer. Said you don’t need to wait—he wants you to go explore on your own.”

Everything was settled. What remained was their private family matter. An Di nodded to Fan Shengmei: “Fan Xiao Mei, we’ll leave now. Don’t let us disturb you. See you tomorrow. Bye.”

“I’m so sorry about our situation—it’s unavoidable. We have to leave tomorrow. Let’s just leave it like this. Next time you come, I’ll take you out properly.”

An Di smiled: “Alright, then. We’re off.”

Bye.

Goodbye.

Guan Juer and Qiu Yingying waved goodbye to them and left Fan Shengmei’s home with An Di.

Downstairs, An Di said, “How about we go eat? The places Xiao Guan mentioned on the way sounded great.”

“Sure. Guan Guan, where should we go?”

“Hmm, let me check what’s nearby that’s good to eat…”

Once they decided where to go, An Di sent the address to Wang Yan, then drove off with Guan Juer and Qiu Yingying.