Chapter Twenty: The Beer Girl

Standing before him was a young girl dressed in a beer maid’s uniform, drawing every eye. She was striking in a way completely unlike Han Ning, Han Wei, and the others—there was only one word for it: fresh. Even though she wore a tight green beer maid’s dress, it couldn’t hide the youthful energy radiating from her. A pair of long, slender legs wrapped in sheer stockings ended in simple black canvas shoes, adding a touch of girl-next-door charm.

“All right, I’ll have a bottle,” Yang Jiekai said with a smile, nodding. He didn’t usually care for beer, but he could never bring himself to refuse a beautiful woman.

At his agreement, the girl’s large, bright eyes glimmered with delight. She deftly uncapped a bottle from a small plastic crate holding six beers and set it on the table.

“Sir, we have a promotion at the moment: buy two, get one free. If you’d like another bottle, we can give you one more at no extra cost.” Her words sounded a little awkward, clearly memorized—she was obviously a student from a nearby university, working part-time to help pay her way.

“But I can’t drink that much, thank you,” Yang Jiekai declined politely with a smile. He honestly didn’t care for beer—that sour, bitter drink with hardly any alcohol held no appeal for him. He much preferred strong, fiery spirits like aged baijiu.

“Oh…” Disappointment flickered in the girl’s eyes, but she kept her smile polite. “That’s all right, sir. Please enjoy. I’ll take my leave.”

“No need, goodbye,” Yang Jiekai replied. He appreciated beauty, but he wasn’t a reckless philanderer. In his mind, someone like himself could never have any connection to these honest, youthful college girls—not from a sense of inferiority, but because he believed they simply belonged to different worlds.

“Wenwen, how many times have I told you—if you need money, just let me know! Why do you always sneak around taking these lousy jobs behind my back?”

Suddenly, seven or eight flashy young men strolled over, all clearly university students from their age, but with an air of arrogance. The one leading them looked particularly slick, with a face as smooth as a girl’s, his hair slicked back with what must have been half a jar of gel, gleaming under the lights. His well-fitted suit was obviously expensive.

The beer maid was just bending to pick up her crate when she heard the voice. Her slender brows drew together in annoyance, and she turned to the slick-haired man, her tone tinged with anger. “Wang Xiang, what I do is none of your business! And why would I have to ‘sneak around’? Also, from now on, call me Lin Wen. Don’t use that disgusting nickname again. There’s nothing between us!” With that, she grabbed the crate and prepared to leave.

Wang Xiang hurried to block her path, his face earnest. “Wenwen, don’t be like this. Listen to me—stop taking these jobs. You’re not in good health, and it pains me to see you work so hard. If you need money, just ask me!”

“Wang Xiang, I’ll say it again. Working is my own business; it has nothing to do with you. Please don’t bother me anymore!” Lin Wen said impatiently, trying to step around him.

Wang Xiang grabbed her arm, refusing to let go. In a soft voice, he pleaded, “Wenwen, please don’t always push me away. You know how I feel about you. I’ve liked you for a long time. If you’d just be my girlfriend, I’d give you as much money as you want.”

“Let go!” Lin Wen snapped, wrenching her arm free. Her pretty face flushed with anger. Perhaps eager to get rid of this pest, she blurted out, “I have to sell the rest of these beers tonight, or I won’t complete my quota!”

Wang Xiang paused, then laughed. “That’s no problem. Just sell them to me! Name your price—I’ll pay ten times as much.”

“I’m not selling to you! If you want to buy beer, go somewhere else!” Lin Wen nearly shouted, clearly at her wit’s end with his persistence.

Wang Xiang froze, recognizing her stubbornness. After a moment’s thought, he turned and fixed his gaze on Yang Jiekai, who had been watching the scene with amusement.

“You—buy all the rest of the beer,” Wang Xiang ordered, looking Yang Jiekai up and down and finding nothing remarkable.

Yang Jiekai smiled faintly. “Isn’t it rather rude to speak to a stranger like that?”

Wang Xiang was taken aback, then sneered, pulling a wad of cash from his pocket and throwing it on the table. “I know what you people want. Buy the beer and it’s all yours.”

Yang Jiekai glanced at the money scattered on the table, then at Wang Xiang with a bemused smile. “Your parents must be very wealthy.”

“Of course!” Wang Xiang replied, not the least bit ashamed, but rather proud. “Just so you know, I’m the son of the chairman of Yongcheng Group in Anhai City!”

At this, the seven or eight hangers-on behind him all wore looks of smug satisfaction, as if the chairman of Yongcheng Group was their own father. Yongcheng Group was an old, well-established local business in Tianhai City, founded decades ago. By now, it was deeply rooted and ranked among the top three in Anhai’s business circles.

Having finished his bragging, Wang Xiang remembered what he’d come to do and snapped, “Enough with the nonsense. Are you buying or not?”

Yang Jiekai took a sip of his baijiu before replying unhurriedly, “And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll regret it!” Wang Xiang bellowed, trying to show off in front of Lin Wen. His gang stepped forward, cracking their knuckles at the unruffled Yang Jiekai.

“Wang Xiang, that’s enough! I’m not selling the beer, all right?” Lin Wen, who had stayed silent until now, finally spoke up, turning anxiously to Yang Jiekai. “You should leave, quickly!”

Wang Xiang, accustomed to having his way, felt humiliated by this ordinary-looking stranger’s “provocation.” Ignoring Lin Wen’s protests, he roughly pulled her aside and roared at Yang Jiekai, “Leave? Not so fast, you—”

Before he finished, a blinding light swept over them. Shielding his eyes, he saw it came from the headlights of a white van.

With a screech, the van braked hard and came to a stop right in front of them. Before the vehicle had even come to a complete halt, the door was yanked open, and seven or eight burly, bald men armed with machetes and steel pipes poured out, striding straight toward Wang Xiang’s group.

Though Wang Xiang was usually brash, he’d only ever thrown his weight around on campus—he’d never faced a scene like this. His heart lurched in fear, and he instinctively took a few steps back, as did his cronies.

But when the bald thugs shoved them aside and marched straight up to Yang Jiekai, Wang Xiang’s heart eased—so they weren’t after him, after all!

“Are you Yang Jiekai?” the leader demanded, his arms covered in snarling tattoos. He wore a tight black vest and gripped a long machete, cutting an intimidating figure that would make most people cross the street to avoid him.

So, they finally show up, Yang Jiekai thought to himself with a hint of annoyance—he’d been waiting here alone for so long.

“All right, let’s skip the pointless dialogue and get to the point. I’d like to get home and sleep,” Yang Jiekai said carelessly, tossing back the last drops of his baijiu—he never left a drop behind.

The bald leader was clearly surprised by his nonchalance. Most people, faced with them, would be shaking in their boots, not acting so casually.

When the men still didn’t move, Yang Jiekai grew impatient. “What are you waiting for? Do what you came to do. Hurry up, hurry up…”

The leader was even more amazed. What was going on tonight—had they run into a lunatic? In all their years in this business, they’d never met someone so eager to “get beaten,” as if he was about to be handed money.

But lunatic or not, they were being paid to do a job. Their employer had told them to cripple a hand and a foot—no one said anything about mercy for madmen. They weren’t heroes, after all, and they didn’t care about bullying the weak.

“Do it!” the leader barked. Instantly, seven or eight machetes and steel pipes swung toward Yang Jiekai from all directions. Their speed and coordination marked them as professionals, not ordinary street thugs. Even a well-trained police officer would be hard-pressed to handle such an assault.

Unfortunately for them, today’s target was Yang Jiekai—the very man who, on the mercenary battlefield, had once fought hand-to-hand against a dozen top fighters and emerged victorious. The Night Owl.

With a series of dull thuds and the clatter of metal hitting the pavement, the so-called professionals soon found themselves sprawled across the ground, soundly defeated.