Not receiving any response from Fu Juncheng, Fu’s father grew somewhat anxious, rubbing his hands together and stepping closer again: “Why aren’t you saying anything? Did you bring the money?”
Fu Juncheng replied coldly: “No.”
Fu’s father grew furious and glared with wide eyes: “You scoundrel! I think you’re trying to piss me off!”
Fu Juncheng frowned: “You’re the one who ran up these debts, what does that have to do with me?”
Fu’s father froze, taking a couple of extra looks at Fu Juncheng as if seeing his own son for the first time. He moved his lips, momentarily forgetting how to speak.
“We agreed on this,” since he was counting on him as his god of wealth, Fu’s father found it hard to lose his temper. After composing himself for a moment, he had no choice but to force his voice down. “Didn’t you say before that you’d find a way to scrape the money together for me?”
Without even needing to think about it, the money the original owner claimed to have gathered was nothing more than the allowance given by Wu Jin, which could barely plug a large portion of the gambling debt’s abyss.
However, anyone with eyes could see that given the old man’s character, this pit would obviously only grow bigger and bigger, making it a bottomless pit through and through.
Just as Fu’s father finished speaking, the man who had been sitting aside finally stood up impatiently, and a group of underlings followed closely behind their boss to crowd forward.
Before the other party could unleash any harsh threats, Fu Juncheng spoke up first: “Don’t move around recklessly. The things here are fragile. If you bump into them and break them, are you going to help clean it up?”
Without waiting for a response, he turned around and said: “If you want the money, follow me.”
Before his words fully faded.
Fu Juncheng was already walking away directly without looking back.
The people present looked at each other in dismay. After hesitating for a few seconds, they followed closely in a mighty horde, not forgetting to exchange glances before leaving, while dragging along a certain culprit who started it all.
Emerging from the stairwell, the light drizzle from earlier had just stopped.
The post-rain air still retained a hint of dampness. Since the group was still carrying the leftover buzz of alcohol and deliberately came looking for trouble, they were freezing to death by this point. Seeing that Fu Juncheng hadn’t volunteered to speak, once they walked out of the long alley entrance, they finally lost their patience and asked fiercely: “Kid, where is the money?”
Hearing this, Fu Juncheng pulled back his wandering gaze and stopped under the shade of a tree. The moment he raised his eyes, his pitch-black pupils reflected the distant, dim lights in the night, revealing a sort of indescribable, teasing expression. Along with his originally exceptionally delicate brows and the corners of his mouth, it carried a bit of casual, intangible oppression.
Seeing this, the scar-faced man’s brow twitched. He instinctively yanked Fu’s father, who had been pinned down by an underling, twisting him around by the arm. Hearing the old man scream in agony, the scar-faced man sneered and threatened Fu Juncheng: “Let me warn you, don’t try any tricks with your grandpa here.”
Fu Juncheng cast a light, breezy glance at the grimacing Fu’s father before nonchalantly shifting his gaze away.
He lifted his chin slightly, fixing his gaze back on the leading scar-faced man, and sneered: “Understood, my good grandson.”
Staring at Fu Juncheng’s exceptionally pretty face, the scar-faced man almost forgot to make a sound, taking a good long while to process what Fu Juncheng had just said: “You little brat, you’re asking for death!”
Look at those slender limbs, yet he still dared to act so arrogant; he was simply asking for a beating!
Before the scar-faced man could finish his threats, his underlings had already very sensibly taken the initiative, throwing a punch straight at Fu Juncheng’s proud nasal bridge.
It was right before his eyes!
There is no time to lose in a moment of crisis; Fu Juncheng tilted his head, the force of the punch brushing past the fine, fragmented tips of hair on his forehead and slicing through the chilling air.
In a split second, Fu Juncheng raised his leg and delivered a flying kick, striking straight into the abdomen!
That person groaned in pain and tumbled backward, crashing into several companions who had stepped up to help and failed to dodge in time. They all balled up together and rolled over several times!
Seeing the situation take a drastic turn, the onlookers no longer had time to watch the show and plunged straight into the chaotic fight!
Even the scar-faced man could no longer worry about Fu’s father, whose legs had turned to jelly and was nearly collapsing. Enraged, he rushed forward.
Yet the kid in front of them had completely shed his usual docile demeanor, determined to fight them to the bitter end. The group only regretted coming in such a rush; had they known the opponent possessed this kind of martial skill, they wouldn’t have been afraid of getting into trouble and failed to bring any weapons along.
In the blink of an eye, another accomplice was knocked flat onto the ground by Fu Juncheng. The scar-faced man attacked fiercely, but Fu Juncheng was exceptionally nimble on his feet, executing a light jump to grab a tree branch overhead and dodging swiftly, so fast that the man didn’t even have time to retract his strike.
Fu Juncheng watched as the underling accidentally injured by the scar-faced man fell with stars spinning in his vision. He raised a delicate brow, and the very second he let go of the branch, he landed a ruthless kick straight onto the scar-faced man’s face.
The next second, Fu Juncheng landed steadily on his feet.
He suddenly hooked the corner of his lips, his lowered eyelids making him look remarkably harmless with that smile: “Take back what you just said. I don’t have any cowardly grandsons like you lot.”
The scar-faced man had never been disciplined like this before, and clutching his aching face, his anger flared up.
“Ah!”
Suddenly, a miserable scream rang out not far away. Someone finally remembered Fu’s father, who had been tossed aside to prepare for a getaway, and dragged him back with a mix of kicks and shoves.
Spitting out a mouthful of saliva, the scar-faced man looked at the middle-aged man pressed against the ground by his underling, and a sense of retaliatory pleasure finally ignited in his heart: “Don’t forget, your old man is still in our hands.”
Fu Juncheng narrowed his eyes without making a sound.
Seeing Fu Juncheng stop his attacks, the scar-faced man thought the tactic had worked, and a smug smile emerged on his face: “If you want your dad to stay alive, obediently stand right there and don’t move.”
Fu Juncheng looked at him with an ambiguous smile: “If you’re going to strike, hurry up. Villains die from talking too much, haven’t you heard that saying?”
The scar-faced man: “…”
Fu Juncheng said earnestly: “Remember to make it hurt, anyway I pretty much loathe him anyway.”
This plot twist was completely beyond their expectations, yet Fu Juncheng maintained such an unserious attitude that it didn’t look like a false bluff meant to trick them.
The scar-faced man’s temples twitched, giving him the strong sensation of punching cotton.
Fu Juncheng smiled, continuing unhurriedly: “However, there are security cameras around this neighborhood. At worst, we’ll drag each other down and go down together; nobody gets any benefits.”
As he spoke, Fu Juncheng’s gaze inadvertently swept past an unfamiliar face pressed pitifully against the ground, who was keeping his eyes tightly shut out of terror and trembling all over from fright.
Fu Juncheng paused for a brief moment, and past memories that didn’t belong to him suddenly floated up in his mind.
Could they belong to the original owner?
Fu Juncheng couldn’t see the man’s face clearly, and even the surrounding background was foggy and hazy; he only knew the man was patiently coaxing a five- or six-year-old boy.
The other person held the boy under his armpits, lifting him up high and carrying the softly smiling, chubby little dumpling right on his shoulders.
“Daddy’s precious son has gotten heavier,” the man’s words were filled with doting affection, “What does little Cheng want? Daddy will buy it for you.”
Was this Fu’s father?
Fu Juncheng couldn’t help feeling a sense of irony; the passage of time wasn’t just a butcher’s knife, it was also a gut-wrenching poison that could rot even a person’s heart.
With a slight stir in his heart, Fu Juncheng unconsciously held his breath, only noticing too late the shadow cast from behind toward his feet, sneaking closer to him.
However, it was already too late.
The world went as still as a freeze-frame.
Fu Juncheng raised his hand to block, and amidst a flash of lightning and flint, a shoulder was tightly wrapped around him as a fierce wind swept past his ear.
The newcomer shielded him while simultaneously spinning around and delivering a sideways flying kick that directly sent the wooden club flying out of the attacker’s hand, completing every motion in one fluid movement!
Fu Juncheng’s forehead pressed against the newcomer’s shoulder.
The warmth radiating from the other person, mixed with the accidentally clinging dew and cold frost, pressed directly against his skin. Before Fu Juncheng could recover his wits, he felt the other person’s breath brush lightly across the tip of his ear, tickling him slightly.
Fu Juncheng’s throat tightened as he jerked his head up.
Beneath the black baseball cap worn by the newcomer, an excessively handsome face came into view, featuring deep contours, a high bridge of nose, and thin lips. Because the distance was much too close, he could even see each distinct, orderly eyelash.
Just a few hours ago, he had laid eyes on this person.
Suddenly, Fu Juncheng froze entirely.
How could this be?
“Xu Yaozhou?” Fu Juncheng asked in shock, “Why are you here?”
Xu Yaozhou didn’t look at him. After Fu Juncheng broke away from his embrace, he pressed his lips into a tight line and narrowed his eyes, then raised a hand to pull down his brim. The clean and smooth contour of his jaw looked like a sculpture in the quiet night. Pausing for half a second, he finally stated deadpan: “Passing by.”
“…”
Fu Juncheng roughly recalled the phone screen he had inadvertently glanced at just a moment ago; it should have been right at midnight.
What the…
God damn passing by!