Chapter 121

Southern Heavenly King Chen Zheng, a black-path hegemon who dominated the region, the adopted son of former Eastern Mausoleum Dragon Head Murong Dong. He rose to fame in a single battle while contending with the Cambodian underworld, and later followed Murong Dong three times into Vietnam, fighting his way out of a sea of over a hundred mercenaries, bringing the wounded Murong Dong back.

Champion of lethal combat, king of underground racing, uncrowned king of Aomen's underworld. At just thirty, Chen Zheng bore the halo countless people envied and resented.

Beneath those legendary halos lay countless brutal blood-soaked battles.

At the birthday banquet of a generation's legendary hegemon, the guests were naturally countless. Not to mention the Hong Kong triads, Taiwanese and Japanese societies all sent representatives, and even several gambling kings from Myanmar and Aomen sent their confidants bearing gifts. Whether from the business world or political circles, black or white, formerly sworn enemies who never interacted, openly or secretly bearing grudges, tonight they all gathered amicably to offer the most 'sincere' blessings for the birthday of the Eastern Mausoleum's dragon head.

The banquet was indeed extravagant; as soon as I stepped inside, gazing at the gold-and-splendid villa, the intricate painted patterns on the ceiling gave me a momentary illusion that I had entered the Crystal Palace.

After Pangzi that coward accompanied Silijing in a dance, he grabbed a plate and scoured everywhere for tasty food. Meanwhile, Yuan Qiu held a glass of red wine, smiling and chatting with people all around, expanding his network.

As for me… I despise the scheming and deceit of the business world, and I cannot learn from Pangzi to be a carefree glutton. So I boredly sat on the sofa, occasionally picking up a slice of watermelon or pastry, stuffing it into my mouth and eating listlessly.

"Ah… how can it be that today is such a grand banquet, and you don't go around mingling?" Yao Yirong, sitting beside me, smiled faintly and whispered, her rose-colored long dress reflecting her lovely face, making her ever more charming.

Moreover, many flirtatious butterflies came over, extending their hands in a gentlemanly manner to invite Yao Yirong to dance, but she politely declined each with a smile.

"Such an occasion isn't for me… I'm more suited to staying in a corner." I replied, forehead in hand, while eating pastry.

Suddenly, amidst the endless crowd flowing through the ballroom, I spotted a familiar figure.

That figure was none other than Fan Wuchang, who had stabbed himself for us last night; now Fan Wuchang wore a pure black suit, matching his knife‑sharp, upright stature, his eyes deep black and icy, his whole person exuding a lethal, captivating loneliness.

I thought Fan Wuchang must be feeling tormented at this moment, constantly surrounded and harassed by girls who touched his face or assaulted various parts of his body; among them were even lavishly dressed, gold‑laden middle‑aged women who kept throwing flirtatious glances at him.

Out of respect for Chen Zheng's face, Fan Wuchang could only swallow his anger, aside from coldly glaring at those flirtatious butterflies; he had no other recourse.

But Fan Wuchang forgot the saying: what cannot be obtained is always the best, and the unattainable salted fish is always the most fragrant.

In Pangzi's words, Fan Wuchang now is that salted fish so fragrant it makes people crave it to death; the colder he is, the more interested the surrounding girls become, and the cooler he acts, the harder they strive to harass him.

"Wait for me, I'm going to see a friend!" After greeting Yao Yirong, I headed toward Fan Wuchang's position.

"Damn, it turns out you're already married—why didn't you say so earlier? You made this young lady waste all that saliva."

"... Getting married and still not saying it early—men nowadays are really dishonest. Eating from the bowl while running off to hunt wild game elsewhere."

"You're so shameless—I never expected someone with such a cold exterior to have such a despicable heart."

Fan Wuchang and I, faces darkened with black lines, endured the taunts of this group of flirtatious girls; after they each spat out a mouthful of saliva, they walked away smugly.

"How did you end up coming over?" Fan Wuchang looked at me, puzzled.

I responded with an innocent smile: "I came to help you out."

Fan Wuchang rolled his eyes: "You drove all the girls away and still claim you're helping me out—who the hell are you?"

"Damn, you don't hate those annoying women?"

"Who said I dislike them? You don't know what 'playing hard to get' means, or what 'tantalizing' means." Fan Wuchang gave me a harsh look, then smoothly brushed his hair: "Get lost, you're blocking my view of the beauty."

I turned around, puzzled, and saw not far behind on the banquet table a middle‑aged woman piled with fat, caked in thick makeup, her hands clasped under her chin, wearing a foolish yet infatuated expression as she stared at Fan Wuchang.

As I turned, I saw Fan Wuchang deliberately strike a pose, winking and sending a jolt of electricity toward her. From behind came an "ah," I jerked around again, and in that moment the plump woman's orchid‑finger stroked her brow, a moan escaping from deep within, as if she were about to faint… it looked like Fan Wuchang had electrocuted her.

Seeing the electricity work, Fan Wuchang leaned against the wall, feet crossed, head lowered, face full of vicissitudes as he stared at the floor, once again restoring his aloof indifference to everything around him.

I stared agape at all this, until I saw the plump woman's eyes blinking like little stars, she tripped forward in tiny steps toward Fan Wuchang, and he coolly discharged another spark, his low voice calling her "beauty"—at that point I couldn't help but retch, my stomach churning, nearly vomiting up last night's late‑night snack.

"Damn… turns out your cold exterior hides a lascivious heart; I no longer believe in love… no, I can't even trust my own eyes."

Damn... Turns out beneath your cold exterior hides a lewd heart; I no longer believe in love... No, I no longer believe my own eyes.

I was almost struck by a sudden thought that popped into my head, and I hurriedly wiped the cold sweat from my brow. I shot a contemptuous glance at Fan Wuchang, who was teasing the fat woman, calling her 'beauty'.

Now I finally understand why this guy's father gave him the name Fan Tai Xian. This flavor is not just salty; it's so strong it could kill a person.

After I exhausted my energy and used a 'laser' to fiercely despise Fan Wuchang, I realized... I was hungry.

This is a very embarrassing fact that I cannot deny, especially when my stomach growled, drawing everyone's gaze; I wished I could find a hole to crawl into.

'Well... I'm not Hai Sheng, I'm Pangzi. I'm not Hai Sheng, I'm Wang Weiqiang.' I kept hypnotizing myself, imagining being possessed by Pangzi, gaining his innate thick-skinned skill. Ignoring the strange looks from everyone, I ran to the buffet table, grabbed a plate and knife and fork, and searched for food I liked to fill my stomach.

'Steak I can't eat, lamb chops are too raw, pork chops... I'm tired of pork, grilled meat is too greasy... sigh, what is this smell?' As I was worrying about what to eat, I suddenly caught a familiar and unique scent that pulled the hidden craving worms from my stomach.

This flavor is definitely the curry I like.

Following the fragrant breeze, I searched the table for the source of the curry... but when I saw this dish, my face fell and I lost my appetite instantly.

A large plate: on the left a clump of yellowish stuff, on the right countless rice balls shaped like pandas; described in words, it's indeed quite cute.

But the odd part is... these pandas are bending over, lowering their heads, continuously rushing toward those yellow things.

The chef's skill is superb, rendering this scene vividly: pandas vying to slap the queue, scrambling for that clump of yellow, sticky curry, with several pandas' heads already soaked in that yellow curry.

In words, this scene is pandas feeding; visually, it's pandas snatching...

In short, as someone who likes curry, seeing this dish instantly killed my appetite.

'What, you don't like it? This is a new Japanese dish called curry-flavored panda eating feces.' At that moment, a familiar voice sounded in my ear again. I carefully savored the voice; gentle yet with a heroic magnetic quality, as if I'd heard it somewhere before.

Turning around, I realized the voice belonged to Chen Mo.

'How did you get here?' I was instantly shocked. What joke is this? A gang boss's gathering suddenly has a police officer appear. This couldn't be preparing some thunder operation to round up all these gangsters in one pot, could it?

My mind involuntarily conjured up such a scene.

Just as Chen Zheng suddenly went on stage, saying some polite thanks for everyone's attendance at my gathering, a large contingent of armed police rushed in, wielding AK-14s, aiming at the heads of many people, covering their faces and loading them onto trucks. Then the next day, a portly commissioner appeared on TV news with a ruddy face, telling reporters: 'Actually, we police have been planning this operation for a long time; after a series of investigations, background checks, and formulating a detailed and thorough plan... we finally rounded up those gang bosses who have been harming the people.'

'Not only did I come, but many comrades also sneaked in.' While my mind was wandering, Chen Mo quietly leaned into my ear and told me this fact.

'What did you say?' This news hit me like a bolt of lightning; I remained speechless for a long time..