Chapter Seven: Li Yifei Hosts a Banquet
“Well, look who it is! It’s broke Yang Le! Come here, we’re almost done eating. Want a bite?”
When Li Yifei saw Yang Le arrive, he didn’t even think before mocking him.
“Li, is Yang Le here to scavenge leftovers? If he eats here, it’ll cost him a month’s allowance!”
The one speaking was Li Yifei’s top lackey, Zhao Yu.
“I’ve got a leftover bun here. Should I let you have a few bites, Yang Le?”
The second lackey, Cai Cheng, joined in.
“Li, aren’t you afraid he’ll kick you?”
The third lackey, Jiang Wang, reminded Li Yifei.
Smack.
Jiang Wang got slapped on the head by Li Yifei.
“Damn it, we’ve got four people now—why would we be afraid of just two of them?”
Li Yifei always found Jiang Wang irritating—so dumb he could hardly speak straight.
“This morning we also had four, didn’t Yang Le still kick you? And you didn’t even dare to hit back!”
Jiang Wang delivered another blow.
“Shove that half-eaten bun in his mouth, shut him up so he’ll stop talking.”
Li Yifei was fuming. If not for Jiang Wang’s strength and willingness to take hits, he’d never want such a pig-headed teammate.
Was he afraid of Yang Le this morning? Of course not.
And did he really not dare hit back? As if! Making it sound like he was terrified of Yang Le.
Hearing the banter between Li Yifei and Jiang Wang, Yang Le laughed out loud, utterly unrestrained.
He still couldn’t understand why Li Yifei would keep such an idiot as a follower. But it was all the better—Yang Le would just watch Li Yifei’s childish antics.
While they bickered, Yang Le had already seated himself at the table and was ready to order.
“No need for a menu. I’ll take the ten most expensive dishes.”
When the waiter handed him the menu, Yang Le didn’t even glance at it.
“Ten of the priciest dishes? That’s going to be over a thousand! Can broke Yang Le really afford it? He’s not planning to dine and dash, is he? If they make him wash dishes, he’ll be here a month!”
Li Yifei saw Yang Le ordering over a thousand’s worth of dishes and thought he’d gone mad from hunger—surely he couldn’t pay, and would end up washing dishes. Wasn’t that what he did as a summer job anyway?
“Li, ten of the most expensive dishes! They must be delicious, right?”
Jiang Wang asked, as clueless as ever.
“If you want it so badly, go eat with him! Stop embarrassing yourself here.”
Li Yifei was driven half-mad by Jiang Wang. Damn, Yang Le just ordered ten expensive dishes. Haven’t I treated you to the same before? And now you’re asking if they’re delicious—how humiliating!
Yang Le ignored their racket and headed to the restroom.
“Hey, Tiger, was Leopard the one you sent to back me up?”
Just now, with the principal present, Yang Le hadn’t dared ask more. But all signs pointed to Leopard being Tiger’s man.
“That’s right! Little Leopard just called me. Told me everything. The principal was there, and the students said you had good grades, so Leopard made up a story that he doesn’t hit good students.”
Tiger was animated as he spoke.
“I see. Thanks, Tiger. Drinks are on me Saturday night—you and Leopard both.”
Yang Le thanked him and hung up.
He felt Leopard was pretty sharp—his performance deserved a 99, leaving one point so he wouldn’t get cocky.
When Yang Le returned from the restroom, Li Yifei and his lackeys were gone.
He and Wang Peng ate their fill before heading back to school.
For two days, all was calm. No bullying from Li Yifei, and even Song Fei’er had little contact with him.
“Yang Le, there’s a class gathering tonight. Are you coming?”
Song Fei’er walked over to his desk, her tone cold.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Yang Le agreed readily.
“Everyone has to pay a hundred.”
Song Fei’er knew Yang Le well—he’d always found excuses to skip these gatherings, but the truth was, he simply didn’t have the money.
She’d heard from Wang Qiang that Yang Le had won the lottery, but hadn’t believed it until his attitude now confirmed it.
“Should I pay you now? For both Wang Peng and myself.”
Yang Le sent her two hundred on the spot.
Seeing the transfer, Song Fei’er turned and left.
Yang Le still wanted to fulfill Song Yiming’s wish and win Song Fei’er over, but right after their last conversation, Song Fei’er’s attitude towards him had grown much colder.
As he watched her walk away, Yang Le felt a reckless urge, but that was all it was—just an urge.
After school, the class split in two—one group with Li Yifei, the other with Song Fei’er. Yang Le and his only friend, Wang Peng, followed behind.
“Fei’er, let’s have dinner at the Xiangzhou Grand Hotel. If the money’s not enough, I’ll cover it. I just want everyone to have a good time.”
Li Yifei made the suggestion.
“Li is a real high-roller—not like those bumpkins who win a little money and forget who they are.”
“Tonight we’re with Li!”
A chorus of flattery made Li Yifei beam.
Song Fei’er had thought any decent place would do for a class gathering, and was going to refuse Li Yifei’s suggestion. But seeing everyone’s excitement, she agreed.
Li Yifei, seeing Yang Le there, wanted to show him who the real rich kid was. Ever since the expulsion incident, he felt he’d lost face in front of the class. That wasn’t the main point, though—the real reason was to impress Song Fei’er, hoping her good looks and wealthy family would finally be his.
Most of the class came from modest backgrounds, so they had to take taxis. Li Yifei wanted to ride with Song Fei’er but was promptly rebuffed.
“You’re a grown man and these are all girls. What are you doing here? Go on, go!”
Li Yifei, not thick-skinned enough, had to ride with his lackeys. He thought to himself that he really needed to buy a car. Tomorrow was Saturday—he’d go pester his mom until she gave in. He was already daydreaming about what car to buy—probably a Mercedes. Tonight he’d get the money, tomorrow he’d go straight to the dealership.
He pictured himself driving Song Fei’er everywhere—especially somewhere remote, where the car could break down. Maybe then, something would happen between them, naturally.
Yang Le, Wang Peng, and two others shared a cab, guessing Li Yifei was up to something again. Yang Le thought about it but couldn’t figure out his angle, so he decided to just play it by ear.
The cars arrived one after another at the Xiangzhou Grand Hotel. Once everyone was there, Li Yifei naturally assumed the role of leader, swaggering inside.
He booked two private rooms, each with a minimum spend of ten thousand.
He invited his lackeys and a few classmates with slightly better family backgrounds to join his room. He’d wanted Song Fei’er too, but she refused.
“Fei’er, come with us. Leave those country bumpkins to themselves.”
Li Yifei tried to persuade her.
“It’s all the same where we eat. The point is to have fun together—no need to make such distinctions.”
Song Fei’er found his words distasteful, but didn’t want to make a scene. After all, he’d invited everyone here.
“Fei’er, why don’t we join Li Yifei and the others? It’s all just dinner, after all.”
Her best friend, Zhou Meng, suggested.
Zhou Meng was pretty enough, though her makeup was thick. Her family wasn’t well off, but she didn’t like associating with classmates from similar backgrounds. Used to poverty, she dreamed of a boyfriend with a car, a house, and savings.
Still in high school, she knew college wasn’t easy. She knew a bit about Li Yifei’s background and wanted to win him over.
But with the prettier Song Fei’er around, she had little chance. She also knew Li Yifei was chasing after Song Fei’er, who had no interest in him.
Seeing Li Yifei book two private rooms at ten thousand each—what a show of wealth.
Zhou Meng made up her mind to reel Li Yifei in.
Song Fei’er nodded and agreed.
Li Yifei quickly welcomed them in, then went to his own room.
“Classmates, while I’m covering the extra tonight, please don’t go overboard. The minimum is ten thousand per room—just stick to that. If it weren’t for Yang Le being with you, you could order whatever you wanted. But since he’s here, I can only apologize.”
A cruel blow.
Li Yifei wanted everyone to resent Yang Le.
Back in his own room, he’d hoped to sit beside Song Fei’er, but both sides of her were already taken—Zhou Meng on one side, another girl on the other.
He considered asking them to move but couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“Yifei, sit here—there’s a seat.”
Zhou Meng called out, gesturing to the spot beside her.
Li Yifei looked at Zhou Meng. Her makeup was a bit heavy, but she was attractive enough. He smiled and sat down.
“Everyone, help yourselves. Order whatever you want.”
Two rooms, two faces—Li Yifei had clear favorites.
The group in his room was reserved; even after ordering, the bill was only about fifteen thousand. Still, the dishes were quite impressive.