Chapter Fifty-One: The Protected Target

When Hu Paozi heard the voice, he abruptly raised his hand, stopping the burly men behind him—armed and ready to charge. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. “You?”

Yang Jiekai nodded with a smile. “What, have you forgotten me so soon? Need me to help you remember?” As he spoke, he rolled his shoulders as if limbering up for a fight.

Such an ordinary gesture startled the fierce-looking Hu Paozi so much that he involuntarily took two steps back, an incredulous expression on his face. This bald brute, known as Hu Paozi, was none other than Hu Kui, whom Yang Jiekai had dealt with by the river near Tianhai University not long ago.

Seeing Yang Jiekai’s casual move, Hu Kui was suddenly reminded of that day, and his still-unhealed wrist began to ache faintly. He had worked as a professional thug for years and had lost before, but never like that—flattened with a few swift kicks, his wrist shattered before he could even fight back.

“Of course I remember! How could I not?” Hu Kui answered hurriedly, terrified the scene might repeat itself.

Watching this bizarre exchange, Lin Sha and the others were utterly confused. Why did this fierce brute seem afraid of Yang Jiekai?

“Good. That’s all I need to know.” Yang Jiekai narrowed his eyes, pointing at the stunned Wu Daode standing nearby. “I’m going to teach that guy a lesson today. Are you going to help?”

“Help? Of course I’ll help!” Hu Kui’s answer rang out loud and clear. He turned to the dazed Wu Daode. “No matter what, I’ve got to help with this one.”

Hearing this, Lin Sha and the others felt their hearts leap back into their throats. So all that talk was useless—he was determined to help no matter what. It seemed there was no escaping what was coming.

Wu Daode was overjoyed. He had been worried that Hu Paozi, clearly acquainted with Yang Jiekai, would refuse to get involved.

“Hell with it—if you want to fight, let’s fight! Cut the crap! If you’re not afraid to die, bring it on!” Qin Feng, emboldened by Old Stick standing up for him earlier, was ready to go all out, even if it meant leaving an arm or a leg behind.

The other security guards, realizing there was no way out, clenched their weapons and stepped forward, though their knees trembled uncontrollably.

“Yang Jiekai, stand back! We’ll hold them off for you today!” Qin Feng, gripping his special belt, shouted without looking back.

Yang Jiekai, slender and always smiling, hardly looked the fighting type. In Qin Feng’s eyes, he was someone to be protected in such situations.

Qin Feng’s words made Lin Sha look at him with newfound admiration. Now this was a real man. She glanced at Yang Jiekai, who stood off to the side smiling as if none of this concerned him, and frowned slightly. Still, she held out hope—perhaps, inspired by Qin Feng, this turtle might surprise them yet.

But wishful thinking is just that—wishful. Yang Jiekai merely let out an unbothered “oh,” shamelessly retreating several steps, the same impish grin on his face, utterly unashamed.

“I’ll make sure he pays for this later!” Lin Sha fumed inwardly at his uselessness.

Qin Feng, unfazed, waited until Yang Jiekai was safely behind them, then raised his belt and shouted, “Brothers, let’s go! Forget the rest—go for Fat Wu!”

It was the call of someone well-versed in street brawls. When outnumbered, if you can’t run, your best bet is to focus everything on one target—after all, even if you can’t beat the tiger, you should at least pluck a few of its whiskers!

Crack! Qin Feng’s belt landed hard on Wu Daode’s already misshapen face. Wu Daode clutched his cheeks, only to be kicked hard in the stomach by Gongsun and sent sprawling. Already battered, he collapsed to the ground, howling in pain as steel pipes, wooden clubs, shoes, and fists rained down on him.

After a while, Qin Feng suddenly realized something, stopped, and looked confusedly at Hu Kui and his men, who stood by watching. “Why aren’t you helping?” he asked.

The other guards stopped too, equally puzzled. By rights, Hu Kui and his crew should have joined in as soon as the fight started, but instead, they just stood there, detached.

Hu Kui glanced at Qin Feng, cracked his neck, and flexed his massive fists until his knuckles popped. “Why would we help? There’s so many of you, and you didn’t even call us over. There’s no room for us—how could we help?”

With that, he stepped forward, shoved Qin Feng aside, and said, “Now you’ve had your turn—now it’s ours.”

He snatched up the now-unrecognizable Fat Wu with one hand, swung a fist the size of a bowl, and slammed it into Wu’s face. There was a heavy thud, and Fat Wu’s hefty body arced through the air before crashing to the ground, this time unable even to cry out, only managing a faint groan as he curled up.

“Pathetic!” Hu Kui spat at him, then turned to Yang Jiekai. “Brother, that’s all I can do. Your guys were rough enough—I’m afraid if we help any more, someone’ll die. We’re thugs, not killers. So about today...?”

Standing bored at the back, Yang Jiekai yawned and waved a hand. “That’s enough. You can go now. Oh, and take Fat Wu with you. When he’s healed up, you can finish today’s business.”

“Alright, boss, we’ll head out. When we catch up with him, I’ll send you some pictures.”

“Fine, go on.”

Hu Kui called out, and two of his men hoisted Wu Daode like a dead pig. Hu Kui grinned at Yang Jiekai, then led his crew away in a clamor.

Qin Feng and the others stared, dumbfounded, watching Hu Kui’s gang disappear. They remained rooted in place, mouths agape, speechless.

Lin Sha wore the same incredulous look, her wide eyes full of disbelief. What had just happened? Was she seeing things?

“Hey, what are you all standing around for? They’re gone.” Yang Jiekai yawned again. “I’m starving. Where are we eating? Gongsun, you promised to treat us—don’t even think about backing out!”

Everyone snapped out of it, crowding around Yang Jiekai as if examining an alien.

“Why are you all staring? I’m not treating!” Yang Jiekai felt uneasy under their gaze and protested.

“Damn!” Qin Feng slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Who would’ve thought? The real deal hiding in plain sight! Who could measure the sea by a bucket, or judge a whore by her trade? You’re immortal, you are...”

“Stop, stop, stop,” Yang Jiekai said, brushing off Qin Feng’s hand and cutting him off before his nonsense got any worse.

“Come clean—what are you really up to?” Qin Feng wasn’t about to let him off, grabbing him again as if afraid he’d bolt.

“What am I up to? Are you nuts?” Yang Jiekai wondered if Qin Feng had lost his mind, talking in riddles.

“Don’t play dumb!” Qin Feng pressed. “Even Southside’s Hu Paozi respects you—called you ‘brother’ just now. How do you explain that?”

Yang Jiekai blinked, realizing that was what had them so worked up. He quickly waved his hand. “Oh, I thought you were angling for a free meal. He’s just a small-time thug—no need to make a big deal.”

He wasn’t trying to show off; he truly didn’t think much of the earlier incident. Back when he was a mercenary, not even kings or presidents dared raise their voice to him, let alone a few street thugs.

“A small-time thug? That’s Hu Paozi of the Southside—everyone in Tianhai’s underworld knows how ruthless he is!” Qin Feng pressed on, for him, people like Hu Paozi were practically legends.

Yang Jiekai smiled wryly. This was China, after all—he was just an ordinary citizen now, no longer the Night Owl who once struck terror into countless hearts. He had to tell a little lie. “Well, to be honest, Hu Paozi is a distant relative. He’s older, but by seniority he calls me ‘brother.’”

“Oh, that explains it! No wonder he gave you so much face.” Qin Feng looked enlightened, not questioning the obvious holes in the story.

“Heh, let’s go eat—my stomach’s growling...” Yang Jiekai quickly changed the subject, patting his belly with a grin.

The security guards cheered, clamoring about where to drink.

“Miss Lin, you should come too,” Yang Jiekai smiled at Lin Sha.

“Yeah, Miss Lin, didn’t you say the company needs unity? Having dinner with us is a great way to build camaraderie!” Qin Feng chimed in, the rest backing him up—they all wanted Lin Sha to join, the company’s queen and renowned beauty.

Seeing their eager faces, Lin Sha almost agreed, but forced a polite smile. “Sorry, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I really have something to take care of today...”

“Oh, alright...” Qin Feng looked disappointed but didn’t push her, laughing it off. “Next time, then. Next time.”

“Sorry again—go enjoy yourselves, just don’t be late tomorrow,” Lin Sha said, shouldering her small purse and walking gracefully away.

“Let’s go, brothers! Tonight we feast on Gongsun’s dime—let’s bleed him dry!” Qin Feng shouted, and the guards erupted with glee.

“Only at the street stalls!” Gongsun protested weakly, resigned to his fate but hoping to minimize the damage.

“Of course—if we went to a real restaurant, you’d fight us tooth and nail. Street stalls it is!” Qin Feng clapped Gongsun on the shoulder, laughing.

After a bit more banter, the group set off toward a nearby food stall.

“Old Stick, what are you standing there for? Let’s go!” Qin Feng called out to Old Stick, who had been silently smoking by the wall. No one thought it odd—Old Stick was always like this, young but with the air of a seasoned schemer.

Yang Jiekai chuckled, glancing back at the intersection. He saw Lin Sha standing there alone, repeatedly checking her watch, clearly anxious.

He sighed to himself—this girl probably rarely took taxis. At this hour, she’d never find a cab here.

“You guys go ahead—I’ll catch up. I’ve got something to do,” Yang Jiekai decided to help the queenly Lin Sha out—if only because she was a beauty.

“Alright, but don’t be late!” Qin Feng and the others replied without turning, wandering off arm in arm, still laughing.

Yang Jiekai shrugged and headed toward the company’s underground parking lot.