Chapter Nine: Smash His Mouth

"Who are you! How dare you crack such jokes at Xiangzhou Grand Hotel? Did Yang Le invite you here to act? Twenty-something thousand, do you really think you have the authority?"
Li Yifei saw the newcomer, dressed in a suit and tie, but didn't believe he had the right to waive Yang Le's bill.
"Good evening, Manager!"
The receptionist greeted the man.
"Manager? You're the manager here?"
Li Yifei found it hard to accept and asked in disbelief.
"Mhm..."
"Congratulations, you guessed right. I am the manager of Xiangzhou Grand Hotel. My name is Jiang Ping. Do you still think I lack that authority?"
Jiang Ping played along with humor, believing that people like Li Yifei deserved a bit of teasing in return.
"You're giving Yang Le credit? He just won a lottery of a hundred thousand, and spent a part of it. You think he can pay off this bill? Are you planning to let him work for decades to pay it back?"
Li Yifei couldn't understand how Yang Le could possibly get credit here, much less that the manager would agree so recklessly.
"You only know about the one hundred thousand I won—who's to say I didn't win a million after that? Is it written somewhere that after winning once, you can't win again? Honestly, you’re a bit stupid—no, not a bit, that's exactly it."
Yang Le looked at Li Yifei, who persisted stubbornly.
Could it be Li Yifei believes that saying:
"No matter how grand the dream, it can't stand up to the persistence of a fool."
Li Yifei had indeed achieved such persistence, but not for a dream—rather, for a delusion.
"Who are you calling stupid? You're the fool—you're a super fool..."
"Manager Jiang, no need to pay attention to this fool. Just let me put the meal on account and I’ll settle it later, alright?"
Yang Le ignored Li Yifei and turned to Jiang Ping, requesting credit.
"Not a problem at all, it's a small matter."
Jiang Ping readily agreed.
"Manager Jiang, you’re so reasonable! Let's add each other on WeChat."
Yang Le took out his phone and opened his WeChat QR code.
Jiang Ping did the same, scanning Yang Le’s code and adding him.
"Let’s all go back and eat! The dishes will get cold soon and won’t taste good, and it’d be a waste of my money."
Yang Le feigned confidence, aiming to annoy Li Yifei. The more unsettled Li Yifei became, the more satisfied Yang Le felt.
Of course, the bill would be paid, but he’d transfer the money to Jiang Ping directly.
Li Yifei, unable to stand it, planned to leave Xiangzhou Grand Hotel, but as he reached the entrance, a security guard stopped him.
"Sir, please settle your bill before leaving."
Li Yifei, chest tight with anger, had no choice but to return and pay. Just after paying, his throat constricted and he coughed up a mouthful of blood, which landed on another guest.
"Smack..."
"You must have a death wish! How dare you spit blood on me—break his mouth for me."
Despite Li Yifei vomiting blood, the guest showed no compassion, slapping Li Yifei and ordering his men to beat him.

"Sorry, though my classmate was at fault for dirtying your clothes, you’ve already hit him and we can compensate for the clothes. But if you continue to use violence, shouldn’t you be reasonable?"
It was Song Fei’er speaking. Though she had plenty of issues with Li Yifei, he was still her classmate—and he had invited them to dinner today. For that alone, she wouldn’t stand by idly.
"This little lass is quite pretty. Since you want to stand up for your boyfriend, then spend a night with me and forget about the clothes."
Zheng Debiao reached out to grab her hand.
Yang Le sensed trouble. The middle-aged man, accompanied by men in suits with close-cropped hair, was clearly not to be trifled with. He took out his phone, dialed Sang Biao's number, then slipped it back in his pocket.
"Smack..."
As Zheng Debiao reached for Song Fei’er, Yang Le rushed forward and slapped away his hand.
"Damn it, did I leave the house on an unlucky day? Is everyone trying to walk over me, Zheng Debiao? Get this guy’s hand away from her."
Zheng Debiao was furious. He was a prominent figure in society, yet today a few youngsters dared defy him—an embarrassment.
"Zheng Debiao, you’re the famed Biao from the Dragon-Tiger Gang—my lifelong idol!"
Li Yifei exclaimed in surprise, flattering him.
"You’ve got some sense, knowing who I am—but so what? I’m still going to smash your mouth."
Zheng Debiao enjoyed the admiration but it wasn’t enough to vent his anger.
While they spoke, Zheng Debiao’s men reached Yang Le, ready to strike. Yang Le shielded Song Fei’er behind him.
"So that’s Biao—these students are in trouble today."
"No doubt about it, Biao’s not someone to provoke. That kid must be tired of living."
"Foolish youth! He won’t see the sunrise tomorrow."
The diners in the hall whispered among themselves.
"Biao, your visit is an honor for our humble establishment! Would you be willing to give me some face and let these students off?"
Jiang Wang stepped out, pleading for Yang Le. On hearing Jiang Ping’s voice, Zheng Debiao’s men paused.
"Manager Jiang, you jest. But it’s not about giving you face—he spat blood on me. Shouldn’t I break his mouth?"
Zheng Debiao wasn’t someone to be messed with and refused to let it go.
"I have nothing more to say."
Jiang Ping wouldn’t waste words defending Li Yifei.
"In that case, go ahead."
Zheng Debiao ordered his men to act.
"Do you treat the law as a decoration? Aren’t you afraid of legal consequences?"
Song Fei’er, shielded by Yang Le, stepped out again. Having seen Jiang Ping attempt to mediate, she felt a bit more confident.
"This little girl’s courage for her boyfriend is admirable—though foolish, it’s endearing. Since you want to talk law, let me tell you: here, I am the law, I am the king you speak of. And since you want to stand up for your boyfriend, spend the night with me! Grab her and bring her to my room!"
Zheng Debiao ordered his men forward.
"I’d like to see who dares touch her."
Yang Le stood protectively in front of Song Fei’er, grabbing a wine bottle from the table and pointing it at the approaching men.
"You think Manager Jiang standing up for you scares me? But you’re just pathetic, kid. This girl shields her boyfriend, and you shield her—do you think protecting her makes her yours? Ah, young people! I admire your little love triangle, but this girl will be mine tonight. Hold off for now—I want to ask her boyfriend if he agrees."

Zheng Debiao leered at Song Fei’er, lasciviously licking his lips and addressing Li Yifei, "Kid, this girl’s your girlfriend, right? How about letting Biao have her tonight?"
"Biao, that won’t do! She’s—"
Before he finished, Biao kicked Li Yifei, sending him sprawling.
"Bang!"
Li Yifei crashed to the floor.
"Beat him! Beat him hard—till he’s dead. How dare he disrespect Biao. Take the girl too."
Yang Le was under Jiang Ping’s protection, so Biao hesitated. But Li Yifei was fair game, judging from Jiang Ping’s attitude.
"No, no, Biao, I agree!"
Before Biao’s men could start, Li Yifei gave in.
"Damn, who is this guy? Shameless—offering up his girlfriend."
"The girl must be blind. The boy shielding her is so decent, and yet she likes that jerk."
"Girls these days, who knows what they want? The worse the man, the more they like him."
"True! The world’s unfair to honest men."
The crowd in the hall criticized Li Yifei, each voicing their opinion.
"Who’s his girlfriend? I’m just his classmate."
Song Fei’er was furious. She’d defended Li Yifei as a classmate, but now he’d claimed her as his girlfriend and was ready to hand her over to Biao. Only now did she realize how shameless Li Yifei was.
She glanced at Yang Le, who stood protectively before her; his shoulders seemed broader now, and she felt an inexplicable sense of security behind him.
Song Fei’er suddenly thought Yang Le might be someone she could entrust her life to.
"Little girl, your boyfriend agreed—what more is there to say? Grab her!"
Zheng Debiao ordered his men forward.
Yang Le still stood before Song Fei’er.
As Biao’s men rushed toward them, Yang Le smashed the wine bottle over the first man’s head.
"Crack..."
A crisp sound; the man collapsed.
The other men in black suits didn’t pause, but all their fists targeted Yang Le. Outnumbered and outmatched, Yang Le was soon knocked to the ground by several blows.
"Don’t hit Yang Le!"
Song Fei’er screamed as Yang Le was beaten, but no one listened.
"What are you security guards waiting for? Help the student, now!"
Jiang Ping knew Yang Le’s background; if anything happened to him at the hotel tonight, Jiang Ping would be in trouble. He quickly ordered the security guards to intervene.
The guards joined the fray, but hesitated, and after a few rounds, were struggling to hold their own.
"Damn it, take them all down—leave none standing!"
Just then, voices rang out from outside. Yang Le recognized the speaker—it was Sang Biao.