The restroom was at the end of the second-floor hallway. As Zach Zhang rushed in, he saw his crony Eric Xie being pinned to the bathroom floor by two young men.
Just then, a figure flashed past them.
Next, a series of thuds and screams echoed from the restroom.
In less than thirty seconds, all the punks were knocked to the ground, groaning in pain.
The two boys snapped out of their daze and hurried to Zach Zhang, anxiously asking, "Are you okay, Zach?"
"I'm fine. Help Eric up first."
The two quickly went to help Eric up, both feeling uneasy inside. They wondered if Zach had noticed their hesitation earlier when they didn't rush in to help. The thought made them regret it deeply.
Eric looked utterly miserable—his bruised, swollen face was smeared with foul-smelling urine, and even his hair and body were soaked.
"Wipe yourself off." Ian Song took out a pack of tissues and handed them to Eric.
"Thanks," Eric said gratefully, but as his gaze swept over the group of punks on the floor, his eyes burned with hatred.
"Ian, what should we do with these guys?"
Ian didn't answer. Instead, he looked at Eric and asked, "What do you want to do?"
"An eye for an eye!"
Zach Zhang roared and started kicking Blondie hard. Eric joined in, kicking the other punks on the ground. The other boy just stood there awkwardly, not moving.
When Ian saw they'd vented enough, he called them to stop.
"Come on, Ian, let's get back to drinking!" Zach waved, still feeling frustrated from Wang Yuan leaving despite having vented his anger.
"Let Eric go clean up first. We'll drink again next time," Ian said.
Eric shrugged it off, walked to the sink, stripped off his shirt, washed away the urine, then said to Ian, "I'm good. Let's keep drinking."
Back in the private room, Zach started drinking heavily, while Ian stayed quiet and barely touched his drink.
Bang!
The private room door was kicked open. Then, a short, fat man in a flashy shirt—about thirty years old and only around 1.6 meters tall—strode in, surrounded by a crowd of punks.
There were so many people that the room was packed, with more standing outside the door.
The fat man wore a simple-minded, friendly smile, looking very approachable.
Seeing so many people—even knowing Ian Song could fight—Zach Zhang worried. These guys had weapons. Could Ian really win against them all?
For a moment, worry crept into his heart. He instinctively tried to stand, but whether from fear or drunkenness, he only made it halfway before slumping back down.
Eric and the other boy felt a chill when the punks flooded in. Most of their drunkenness vanished. Only Ian Song stayed calm, half-squinting as he slowly scanned the crowd, lingering a moment on one person.
"Blondie, get in here."
The fat man called out, and a guy with his head wrapped in bandages squeezed in from the doorway—it was Blondie, the punk Zach had smashed with a bottle in the restroom.
"Is it these kids?" the fat man asked.
"Boss, it's these kids," Blondie said, bowing low.
Smack!
The fat man slapped Blondie across the face, cursing, "Useless! How could a whole group of you get beaten up by a few kids?"
Blondie didn't dare get angry, just nodded obediently.
But then the fat man's tone changed: "Still, Blondie, you're one of Blade Bao's men. If someone hits you, they're hitting me. Now, go and hit them back—every single one!"
"I started all this. If you want trouble, come at me!" Eric Xie staggered to his feet, shouting at the fat man. Though his face showed panic, his eyes were determined.
"My dad is Daniel Zhang. If any of you touch me, my dad won't let you off!" Zach Zhang shouted, pushing himself up by the table.
"So you're Mr. Zhang's son? What an honor." Blade Bao looked surprised and reached out to shake Zach's hand.
"Since you know my dad, let's just drop this whole thing!" Zach Zhang said, waving smugly.
Smack!
A loud slap rang out.
Zach Zhang was stunned by the slap. He clutched his cheek and stared at Blade Bao in confusion. "Why did you hit me?"
Blade Bao sneered, "Kid, you really don't know your place. Even if your old man saw me, he'd have to call me Grandpa Bao. Who do you think you are?"
Hahaha.
The punks behind him burst out laughing.
"Blondie, get moving!" Blade Bao barked.
"Yes, boss."
"Boss, wait."
A voice came from the crowd, and Shane Xie stepped forward. He'd only recently started working under Blade Bao.
"Oh, Shane, what's up?" Blade Bao asked kindly.
"Boss, I have a favor to ask—could you spare him? I know him pretty well." Shane pointed at Ian Song.
"Haha, I thought it was something serious. It's fine—since you asked, I'll give you this favor." Blade Bao laughed, but Ian noticed a flash of menace in his eyes. Clearly, he disliked Shane's plea but agreed anyway, showing how cunning he was.
"Thanks, boss," Shane said gratefully.
Then Shane turned to Ian Song. "Our boss is sparing you—better get out of here."
But to Shane's surprise, Ian Song smiled, shook his head, and stood up. "Mixing in the underworld is a dead-end. You should change careers."
Shane was annoyed. He'd just helped Ian, and now Ian was lecturing him.
"Shane, you're a funny guy," Blade Bao said, eyes narrowing to slits. "Still wet behind the ears, but you talk like an old man."
Shane was startled. He knew Blade Bao's narrowed eyes meant anger, so he quickly said, "Boss, he's young and doesn't know any better. Please don't hold it against him."
Just then, Ian Song spoke up again: "Doesn't matter if I'm still growing—I'll get there eventually. But stunted growth is a real problem. No matter how much you eat, you might never get taller."
The moment he said this, Shane's face changed, while Blade Bao's eyes flashed with menace—he hated people mentioning his height.