Chapter 959: Rivals Come Looking for a Beating

Dice clattered on the table; in just four or five minutes, Yang Qing's forehead had been flicked three times in a row by Lin Dongfan with a rubber band, the skin already red.

He got angry from losing.

Yang Qing rolled up his sleeves, wanting to fight Lin Dongfan one-on-one.

Lao Ba poured drinks at the side, Lin Fuxing joined in the clamor, and the private room descended into chaos.

"Bang!"

The door panel slammed into the wall, bounced back, then was kicked open by someone.

Noise from the hallway surged in, instantly ruining the atmosphere in the private room—what a buzzkill.

Yang Qing blurted out a curse: "Who the hell is this again?! Damn, no manners at all..."

He didn't finish his sentence.

A cold, harsh voice came from outside the door: "Hit them!"

A dozen or so gang youths wielding baseball bats rushed into the private room, all wearing black T-shirts, dragons and tigers tattooed on their arms, eyes fierce like hungry wolves. The leader, a bald man at least 1.8 meters tall, gripped his bat tightly and, without caring who was who, swung straight at Yang Qing's head.

In the hallway, Meng Yu leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.

The smoke drifted in the dim light.

Seeing the waiter rush over after hearing the commotion, Meng Yu coldly warned: "Don't fucking meddle, get lost!" The waiter was frightened and stopped in his tracks.

Inside the private room.

Before the baseball bat could strike Yang Qing's head, Lao Ba's dice cup had already flown out.

The dice scattered in the air with a clatter, falling all over the floor. The dice cup, like a cannonball, struck the bald man's nose bridge squarely.

"Crack!"

Like the sound of a broken nose bridge.

The bald man yelled in pain, the bat flew from his hands, and he stumbled back several steps, clutching his nose as blood seeped through his fingers. The several gang youths behind him froze on the spot.

"Watch your limits."

Lin Dongfan's voice was calm, as if he were giving instructions in an office.

Lao Ba looked at the dozen or so black-clad youths blocking the doorway, smiled faintly, and said: "One at a time, or all together?"

"Damn! So fucking arrogant!"

These people obviously didn't realize how terrifying Lao Ba's strength was.

A dozen or so people swung their baseball bats and surged forward, naively thinking that even a mighty tiger couldn't withstand a pack of wolves, believing one stick each could cripple Lao Ba.

Little did they know, going up meant they were just asking to be beaten.

Music still played and lights still spun in the private room, but the air had changed, like a pot of boiling oil already gurgling and bubbling.

The fighting sounds grew ever more intense.

People kept screaming in pain.

But soon a smart aleck slipped past Lao Ba's fists and chose to attack Lin Fuxing from behind.

Yang Qing grabbed Lin Fuxing and pulled him behind him, then snatched a beer bottle from the table, gripping the neck reverse-handed with the base outward, like holding a dagger.

His eyes locked onto the group, like an old wolf eyeing wild dogs that had intruded on its territory.

"Fuxing, get down! Don't lift your head."

Lin Fuxing didn't crouch.

He snatched the unopened beer bottle on the table and hurled it at the man charging ahead.

The bottle struck that man's head.

With a bang!

It shattered.

Beer foam splashed across his face.

The man froze for a moment, never expecting this kid to react so fast and strike so hard; in that instant, Lin Fuxing punched him in the face again.

"Damn, seeking death!"

Two men nearby swung their baseball bats at Lin Fuxing.

Lao Ba cut in from the side, blocked with his left hand, grabbed one man's wrist with his right, twisted and pulled, sending the man flying to crash heavily onto the coffee table.

The coffee table broke, sending bottles, glasses, and dice flying everywhere.

Before the other man's bat could come down, Lao Ba delivered an elbow strike to his temple, causing his vision to black out as he collapsed limp.

Yang Qing wasn't idle either.

The beer bottle in his hand seemed to have eyes, always aiming for people's heads.

A thug swung a bat at him; Yang Qing dodged sideways, then swung the bottle round and smashed it into the thug's occiput. The bottle shattered, the thug groaned and lay on the ground unable to get up.

Another rushed in; Yang Qing kicked his knee, dropping him to one knee, then pressed the broken beer bottle half in his hand against the man's throat: "Try moving again!"

The man immediately froze, too scared to move.

But there were too many people.

Dozens, a few fell, then a few more charged forward.

Lin Fuxing was surrounded by two men; their bats swept toward his legs, he jumped to dodge, but upon landing his foot slipped and he nearly fell.

Lao Ba shoved the man in front of him away with a palm, grabbed the back of Lin Fuxing's collar, and pulled him behind him.

"Fan Ye, take Fuxing and go first."

Lin Dongfan seemed not to have heard.

He sat calmly on the sofa, legs crossed, holding a glass of wine, taking a slow sip, as if the brawl around him were a movie and he were just waiting for it to end.

Lao Ba instantly understood Fan Ye's meaning.

He immediately stopped talking, swiftly snatched the baseball bat swinging down at his head, now armed, he was like a tiger given wings.

In just a few dozen seconds, a large group lay on the ground.

Someone lay on the ground wailing.

Someone clutched their stomach and rolled around.

Someone's head was dripping red, unclear whether it was wine or blood.

Someone else, frightened, threw away the baseball bat in their hand, then obediently crouched aside holding their head: "I'm just here to make up the numbers, don't hit me..."

The coffee table shattered, fruit from the platter scattered all over the floor, trampled into mud.

In the hallway.

Meng Yu, leaning against the wall smoking, kept listening to the commotion inside; the clattering of fights kept coming out.

At the beginning.

Meng Yu thought it was Lin Fuxing and Yang Qing screaming in agony, a faint smile curling his lips—but as he listened, he felt something was off; the screams sounded like his own men.

"Damn, over a dozen people can't take down those two?"

Meng Yu tossed the cigarette butt to the ground and stomped it out with his foot.

He stepped to the doorway and peered out, instantly sucking in a breath of cold air—he saw his brothers all incapacitated, either lying on the ground wailing or crouched aside holding their heads, waiting to be dealt with.

What made Meng Yu even more panicked was—the person sitting on the sofa seemed to be Mayor Lin Dongfan!

Lin Dongfan!

Sitting on the sofa with legs crossed, holding a wine glass, he stared at Meng Yu! Suddenly, the other gave a faint smile, his calm eyes as if asking: "Surprised or delighted? Unexpected or not?"

Meng Yu's legs went weak; he turned to run.

Before his foot could even step forward, Lao Ba grabbed his collar from behind, and in an instant his whole body was involuntarily pulled back by Lao Ba's strong, muscular hand.

Like dragging a dead dog back.

"Bang!"

Meng Yu was thrown by Lao Ba in front of Lin Dongfan, landing in a messy heap.

Lao Ba crouched, teasingly patting Meng Yu's bruised face: "The show isn't over yet—why run? Did the mayor say you could leave?"

"!!!"

Meng Yu trembled, shrinking on the ground, too afraid to meet Lin Dongfan's gaze.

The greatest sorrow is nothing compared to a dead heart.

At this very moment.

Meng Yu knew Lin Fuxing was the mayor's son.

Originally planning to stay hidden outside, have someone beat Lin Fuxing a bit then flee; afterward the Lin family could only swallow the humiliation, and they'd certainly not publicize such an embarrassing matter.

Never expected to encounter the mayor presiding here.

Meng Yu stammered, explaining: "I… I was just passing by, I don't know them…"

"Is this thing your father's order, or did you do it behind his back?" Lin Dongfan's voice was calm, without a hint of emotion.