How was she supposed to choose?
Unable to decide on her own, Chen Cui turned to ask someone else, “Son, which pair of leather shoes do you think looks better?”
Meng Zeyan looked at his own mother helplessly. He was a single man—how would he know which ones looked better?
Getting no useful answer from him, Chen Cui turned to the sales clerk instead. “Girl, which leather shoes in your shop sell the fastest?”
The ones that sell the fastest must be the best-looking ones. Who would buy something ugly?
The sales clerk set aside the sneakers she had just retrieved and walked over, pointing at several pairs. “Auntie, these few sell really well. Everyone who tries them on says they look good!”
Chen Cui looked over all of them and then turned to Meng Zeyan. Before she even spoke, he pointed at a pair of black flat leather shoes.
He didn’t really know how to choose either—he simply remembered how she had kicked stones in those thin sandals yesterday. Replacing those sandals with these shoes should be fine.
“Girl, get a pair of size 36 in this style as well,” Chen Cui said without hesitation, choosing the pair her son had pointed at. If Xiao Huan didn’t like them, she would just say her son had bad taste.
The sales clerk hadn’t expected the auntie to be so generous. White sneakers plus leather shoes—that would cost more than eighty yuan in total.
“Auntie, are you buying these for your daughter? You really dote on her,” the clerk said with a smile.
“That’s right!” Chen Cui replied proudly. In her eyes, Tang Huan was just like her own daughter.
After wrapping up the leather shoes, the clerk handed both pairs over. “That’ll be 86 yuan in total.”
Chen Cui took the items and immediately passed them to Meng Zeyan, then lowered her head to take out money from her bag.
After paying, Chen Cui left the store with Meng Zeyan.
After walking a short distance, she slowed down, intending to whisper to her son. But before she could speak, Meng Zeyan already handed her the wrapped shoes.
He felt his mother’s sense of boundaries was a bit too loose. It was fine that she brought him along to buy shoes, but making him carry them?
“Mom, Tang Huan is a woman. We should keep appropriate distance.”
Chen Cui took the shoes and stuffed them into her shoulder bag. She had been so focused on that girl earlier that she’d forgotten to take them back. Unexpectedly, her son brought up propriety first.
After putting the shoes away, she reassured him, “I know we should keep distance. Don’t worry, nobody will gossip. You’re eight years older than Xiao Huan anyway! Who would make up nonsense like that?”
Not to mention they were technically brother-in-law and sister-in-law in status terms—just the eight-year age gap alone meant no young girl would want a husband that much older.
Meng Zeyan didn’t respond further and walked ahead.
They had come to buy shoes, and now the shoes were bought. It was time to go home.
Because of this interruption, Chen Cui also forgot to ask what her son thought of that girl.
By the time she remembered, he was already gone.
Meng Zeyan had never been a soft-hearted person.
Before joining the army, he was a well-known delinquent in this area, frequently fighting other gangs from neighboring districts.
After enlisting, that aggressive energy finally found somewhere to go. His old commander disliked his intimidating aura and forced him to soften it with a smile.
Over time, he grew used to smiling at everyone first. His reputation as a fierce troublemaker gradually faded, and people began to say he was easygoing and kind.
But apart from the soldiers who had served with him, no one knew how dark his methods could be.
The disgusting things Liang Erban had done were easy enough to find out with a simple inquiry. Strictly speaking, Liang Erban wasn’t even a proper street thug. Real thugs still had a code of conduct.
He was a full-blown rogue—worse, a somewhat clever one.
Every time he did something despicable, he always managed to dress it up as if he were in the right. Even though everyone knew it was wrong, there was nothing they could do about him.
Even the police couldn’t hold him for long—he would be detained for a couple of days and then released.
And after that, he would continue behaving like trash.
As a soldier, especially a newly appointed regimental commander in this military district, Meng Zeyan couldn’t casually break discipline.
So he wouldn’t use his own hands.
But animals, on the other hand, were eager to use their mouths.
Since he had promised to “deliver a gift,” he went to his childhood friend’s house and carefully selected three fierce dogs to send over.
His friend had always loved raising dogs, keeping more than ten large ones at home—some nearly half a person tall, all extremely imposing.
After so many years of troublemaking, this was the first time someone had come to his door voluntarily to apologize with a gift. Liang Erban didn’t even bother going out that morning—he stayed home waiting.
He even sent his parents to work early just to wait alone for the coward who would come.
He originally wanted others to witness his “victory,” but lately no one wanted to hang out with him anymore.
The courtyard gate wasn’t closed. Meng Zeyan knocked.
“Just bring it straight into the house!” Liang Erban called from inside, lounging arrogantly on the sofa, legs crossed. “That coward actually came!”
Meng Zeyan held three large black dogs on leashes as he entered.
All three were muscular, black-furred, and extremely well-trained. They hadn’t barked at all during the entire walk.
He walked toward the room where the voice came from, pushed the door open, and brought the dogs inside.
After everyone entered, he closed the door behind them.
Inside, Liang Erban leaned back on the sofa with his arms draped over it, legs crossed, eyes half-closed. His hair was slicked back with hair oil, looking extremely pompous.
“What did you bring me?” he didn’t even bother looking at them.
“A good thing,” Meng Zeyan said lightly. “Guaranteed to satisfy you.”
He released the leashes.
The three dogs immediately lunged forward.
Liang Erban barely opened his eyes—and the moment he saw them, he shot up in terror.
Before he even had time to react, one dog slammed onto the sofa, tearing a long rip into the cushion.
The other two followed instantly. In seconds, the sofa was in ruins.
After missing their first target, the dogs turned toward him.
Each of them had a mouth big enough to take a bite of flesh without hesitation.
Panicked, Liang Erban scrambled to flee, even trying to rush toward the door—but it was locked, and he didn’t even have time to open it.
A few seconds of delay was enough for the dogs to catch up.
He tried to grab Meng Zeyan for help, but was casually tossed back onto the sofa.
The entire Liang household echoed with screams that afternoon. Yet strangely, no neighbors came to check.
Meanwhile, Meng Zeyan watched like he was enjoying a circus performance.
At first, Liang Erban was still threatening to call the police. Later, he could only beg for mercy. His pants were torn into strips, and his undershirt was in worse condition than a beggar’s.
As for calling the police—Meng Zeyan didn’t care at all. He had only come to deliver a gift. And he had witnesses who could confirm that this was an arranged “gift delivery.”
He had delivered it. Whether the recipient liked it or not—that was the recipient’s problem. What did it have to do with the delivery man?
By the end, Liang Erban swore he would never cause trouble again and would behave like a good person.
Only then did Meng Zeyan leash the dogs and leave.
Not because he believed him—but because it was getting late and time to go home for dinner.
Before leaving, he tossed out a final line:
“See you tomorrow.”