Xue Bao Tian stood on a street corner smoking, the lonely glow of a streetlamp outlining his lean figure.
He lifted his eyes toward the men across the street. They were looking back at him, amusement glinting in their eyes.
“Fuck.”
Just remembering how spineless he had sounded a moment ago made Xue Bao Tian furious. Worse still was Zhang Chi leaning against the door and asking in that maddeningly indifferent tone, “Want me to repay the favor?”
“If you want to repay it, then fucking get in here! If you don’t, then get the hell out! Why the fuck are you asking?”
It had sounded pretty damn manly.
Then Zhang Chi paused to consider it and actually turned to leave.
Xue Bao Tian’s tone changed immediately.
“…Or maybe you could repay it, Brother Chi? Brother Chi!”
He could have sworn Zhang Chi smiled then, though perhaps his eyesight had failed him. Frankly, he would rather have gone blind than see an expression that looked suspiciously like mockery.
Low voices sounded outside the door, followed by the scrape of it sliding open. The diners who had just left turned around and came back into the restaurant.
Zhang Chi walked in front. There was no smile in his eyes, but his manner was still mild, carrying something of an attempt at mediation.
“If there’s a problem, talk it out properly. Let him go first.”
Huang Zheng was intimidated by Zhang Chi’s powerful build, but the man’s unhurried manner also made him somewhat contemptuous.
“This is our private business. No need to trouble yourselves. Next time you guys come here to eat, I’ll give you a discount. But for today, I won’t see you out.”
Zhang Chi glanced at Xue Bao Tian.
Several people had him pinned down at once, one arm twisted behind his back, pain written across his face.
Last night, when Zhang Chi had forced both of Xue Bao Tian’s arms behind his back, he had cried out in pain too. But those cries had been tangled with low, ragged breaths, half curses and half petulant complaints. Together with the sharp rise of his shoulder blades, they had acted like a catalyst, leaving Zhang Chi intensely aroused.
The mildness abruptly disappeared from Zhang Chi’s face.
He tilted his head slightly and glanced at the man behind him.
The man caught the signal. A trace of amused interest curled his lips before vanishing just as quickly.
He stepped past Zhang Chi, came to the front, and rested one hand on the back of a chair.
“You’re not letting him go?”
He shot Huang Zheng a sidelong glance.
Before Huang Zheng could answer, the man abruptly lifted the chair and smashed it straight into the boiling hotpot.
Bang!
Scalding oil and broth exploded outward. The sudden collision of searing heat and cold air produced a sharp, violent hiss. A miniature mushroom cloud surged half a meter above the pot before gradually dispersing several breaths later.
The table and floor were left in complete chaos. Red chili oil trickled slowly down the white wall, leaving filthy streaks behind.
“Let him go.”
The culprit casually placed his hand on another chair.
Huang Zheng stumbled backward several steps in fright. The cooks’ expressions changed too.
They were only doing this for a bonus of around ten thousand yuan. They had been told they were here to beat someone up. Nobody had said anything about getting beaten themselves.
Their fear loosened their grip.
The moment the restraint disappeared, Xue Bao Tian shoved the cooks away, strode over to Huang Zheng, and seized him by the collar.
His expression turned vicious.
“Huang Zheng, you don’t have the balls to touch me here. Tell me. Who put you up to this?”
His eyes narrowed.
“Let me guess. Your second brother, Huang Song? I mocked him a few times while we were playing baccarat in Macau, and he’s been holding a grudge ever since?”
Huang Zheng grabbed the wrist clutching his collar, his face twisting.
“Xue Bao Tian, you didn’t get much schooling, did you? Let me teach you a saying: Those who bring disaster upon themselves deserve what comes to them!”
Huang Zheng was still young, but his hairline was already beginning to retreat.
Xue Bao Tian smiled darkly.
“Huang Zheng, then let me fucking teach you one too: Boundless grass spreads over the plains, yet not a blade will grow on your head.”
Elio’s Notes: Xue Bao Tian is mangling the famous opening line of Bai Juyi’s poem Grass: “Boundless grasses spread across the plain.” He adds the second half himself purely to mock Huang Zheng’s balding head.
He shoved Huang Zheng away, dragged over a chair, sat down, and crossed one leg over the other.
“Huang Zheng. You too, all you cooks. Take out your phones and throw them into the pot. Do that and tonight’s matter ends here. Otherwise…”
Xue Bao Tian looked back at Zhang Chi and the man who had smashed the chair.
“…I’ll let my brothers have some fun with you.”
“Two Hundred.”
Zhang Chi called to him quietly, clearly trying to keep the situation from escalating.
Xue Bao Tian reached out and slowly ran a hand over Zhang Chi’s thigh, lifting his eyes toward him.
“Brother Chi, they threw my phone into the pot.”
Feeling the warmth against his leg, Zhang Chi’s brows shifted slightly.
“Are there surveillance cameras?”
“They shut them off so they could deal with me.”
Zhang Chi sighed and tipped his chin toward Huang Zheng and the others.
“Take out your phones.”
＊
Xue Bao Tian watched Zhang Chi push open the pharmacy door and walk toward him with a plastic bag in hand.
Leaning against a streetlamp with a cigarette between his fingers, Xue Bao Tian looked thoroughly impatient.
“What now?”
“I bought some medicine. Put it on when you get home.”
Zhang Chi held the bag out to him.
Under the streetlight, Xue Bao Tian glanced at it without taking it.
“Who were those guys?”
Zhang Chi followed his gaze toward the men standing across the street.
“Friends.”
“Bullshit!”
Xue Bao Tian pulled the cigarette from his mouth.
“Pick any one of them. Sell the clothes off his back and it’d equal three years of your wages.”
Zhang Chi was speechless for a moment.
“They’re bosses from my construction site. I happened to run into them on the street just now. They were going out to eat, so they brought me along.”
“So they brought you along for a decent meal?” Xue Bao Tian asked. “Who was the guy who stepped in just now?”
“The boss’s brother-in-law. His temper isn’t very good.”
“Fuck, I almost want to hire him as my bodyguard.”
Xue Bao Tian threw down his cigarette and ground it viciously beneath the toe of his shoe.
“Look at him, then look at you. Not a drop of backbone in you. I got fucking slept with, and I didn’t even get a good one.”
He hooked one finger through the plastic bag in Zhang Chi’s hand and took it.
“Consider your debt to me repaid. From now on, stay the fuck away from me. The farther, the better.”
He turned toward the intersection, muttering as he walked.
“Every fucking time I see you, something bad happens. You’re my goddamn jinx.”
Smack!
The plastic bag landed in a roadside trash can.
His muttered “Fucking unlucky” drifted away on the evening breeze.
＊
Throughout the summer, Xue Bao Tian had been researching the possibility of becoming an agent for imported pharmaceuticals.
He had little formal education, but his instincts for business were sharp. At an industry conference, he once heard an expert mention how eagerly Chinese consumers chased after imported health products, and the idea immediately began turning in his mind.
He traveled abroad to investigate.
Most New Zealand brands were already tied up in contracts. Southeast Asia offered better prospects: more brands, lower prices, and comparatively easier deals to arrange.
Tonight, Xue Bao Tian had organized a banquet for the son of a Thai pharmaceutical tycoon, hoping the man could open a door for him.
If the deal worked out, the financial returns aside, his standing within the family would rise dramatically. He would finally stop being overshadowed by his brother-in-law both at home and in business.
Unfortunately, his guest was no easy person to deal with.
He was ethnically Chinese but had grown up in Thailand. In Xue Bao Tian’s opinion, the man came from some tiny little place yet strutted around as though he were somebody extraordinary.
Since Xue Bao Tian needed something from him, he could only suppress his temper and carefully humor him.
The man had also brought a friend.
He might have been nothing more than an insignificant office director, yet he carried himself with perfect composure and revealed absolutely nothing.
At first, Xue Bao Tian assumed the two were close, constantly backing each other up and exchanging compliments.
Who would have guessed that the bastard raised in Thailand had secretly joined forces with everyone else to torment that office director?
Xue Bao Tian finally found himself some entertainment.
He flattered his prospective business partner while simultaneously venting some of the temper he had been suppressing all evening.
After one chaotic performance, the office director stormed out through the door, and the Thai-raised bastard went after him.
Only an exhausted Xue Bao Tian and the pack of disreputable friends he had invited along remained in the luxurious private room.
They opened more bottles at random.
With a woman tucked under one arm, Xue Bao Tian halfheartedly sang sickeningly sentimental love songs.
He had barely begun a high note when the heavy door to the private room was violently shoved open.
Several men with hostile expressions sauntered inside.
The man at the front had a leather jacket draped around him. He was roughly Xue Bao Tian’s age, ordinary-looking, yet dressed head to toe in luxury brands. The gold watch on his wrist flashed so brightly it nearly hurt the eyes.
He shrugged his shoulders.
The leather jacket slipped neatly into a subordinate’s waiting hands.
Then the man slowly sat down on the sofa, leaving two or three seats between himself and Xue Bao Tian.
“Well, Young Master Xue. Still doing well, I see.”
Xue Bao Tian didn’t answer.
Not because he was being arrogant.
He had spotted Zhang Chi.
The man stood half-hidden behind the group of followers.
Zhang Chi saw him too. A faint trace of surprise crossed his face before disappearing almost immediately.
His gaze slid away from Xue Bao Tian’s face and settled instead on the arm he had wrapped around the woman.
Xue Bao Tian deliberately pulled her closer, set down the microphone, and picked up his glass.
His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“And what wind blew Fourth Young Master Qi all the way over here?”
The man opposite him smiled, poured himself a drink, brought the glass beneath his nose, and sniffed it with obvious disdain.
“You took things pretty far, Young Master Xue. If I still didn’t come looking for you after that, the whole of Yancheng would laugh at me.”
Xue Bao Tian took a sip and feigned surprise.
“When did Fourth Young Master Qi go deaf? The whole city is already laughing at you. You didn’t hear?”
Veins bulged on the hand gripping the wineglass.
Fourth Young Master Qi’s face twisted.
“Xue Bao Tian! It was a petty grudge between us. Did you really have to take things this far?!”
“A petty grudge?”
Xue Bao Tian lifted his eyes sharply.
“You deliberately ran over my dog!”
“So you buried that dog in my family’s ancestral grave?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my family’s feng shui? My father got so angry over it that he’s sick!”
Xue Bao Tian immediately put on an aggrieved expression.
“My dog wasn’t exactly thrilled about being buried there either. But there wasn’t much human presence in that place, so it suited him pretty well. Next time I go pay respects, I’ll just bring a little extra dog food. Saves me a trip. I can worship everybody together.”
“Xue Bao Tian, you’re fucking asking to die!”
The man hurled his glass down in fury and sank back into the sofa, his face dark as storm water.
“You’ve lived far too smoothly all these years, Young Master Xue. Today, I, Qi, am going to teach you a lesson.”
He raised one hand and crooked his finger slightly.
A signal.
At once, the eyes of everyone accompanying him shifted.
One after another, they all landed on Zhang Chi at the back.
Zhang Chi lowered his eyes.
He remained silent for several seconds before finally moving, stepping slowly out of the dim corner and into the flashing lights.
Only then did Xue Bao Tian realize that Zhang Chi was wearing a full suit tonight.
The thick black fabric made his already imposing frame appear even taller and broader.
Bending slightly at the waist, Zhang Chi picked up a bottle from the bar.
He raised his eyes and looked directly at Xue Bao Tian.
Then he took a step toward him.
“What are you planning to do?” Xue Bao Tian asked coldly.
Zhang Chi answered calmly.
“I took a job. I’m here to take care of someone’s problem.”
Author’s Notes:
The Thai tycoon’s son and the office director mentioned in this chapter are the protagonists of my other novel, Four-Faced Buddha. The gong is a many-faced madman: one persona in front of others and another behind their backs. He takes advantage of the shou not understanding Thai, acting sincere one moment and shameless the next. If that sounds interesting, you can check it out.