Chapter Thirty-Nine: Truly a Matter of Fate

As soon as Lin Lei gave his name, a lackey slipped out of the hotpot restaurant and dashed next door to the bathhouse to deliver a message. These small fries didn’t have Xue Lei’s number, but as fate would have it, Xue Lei and Brother Long were at that very moment receiving massages in the bathhouse.

Had Boss Pan’s hotpot restaurant been situated a little farther away, perhaps misfortune wouldn’t have come knocking so soon. But as things stood, he had opened shop right next to Brother Long’s “stronghold.”

Upstairs, two burly youths, bare-chested and each tattooed—one with a wolf’s head, the other with a dragon—had just finished their baths and were stretched out on massage chairs, enjoying the hands of their masseuses. Suddenly, the phone of the man with the dragon tattoo began to ring.

“Hello, cousin, what’s the matter?”

“You’re being bullied? Is it that idiot from last time? He actually dared to come back to An County?”

“It’s not him? Then who is it? What’s his family background?”

“A nobody, parents dead, no connections, no power, and he dared to speak to you that way? Fine, send me his name and address on WeChat—I'll take a couple of guys and have a word with him.”

Once he hung up, the man with the wolf tattoo spoke. “Brother Long, your cousin in some trouble? Want me to handle it?”

In the wolf-tattooed man’s eyes, Brother Long’s cousin was nothing special, though she certainly knew how to string men along. Last time, she got involved with a married man—ended up pregnant, tried to force him into a divorce, and when he refused, she called in her cousin. They didn’t get the marriage in the end, but they did squeeze out three hundred thousand in ‘breakup fees,’ and the man’s family left An County overnight, never daring to return.

Now she was calling again—clearly, some other poor fool was about to have a rough time.

“A small-time nobody, parents dead, living off an inheritance, no connections but pretty cocky. My cousin wanted to marry him and asked a matchmaker to approach him. But he put on airs and said he wasn’t interested in ‘second-hand goods,’” Brother Long explained.

“Inheritance? In a small county like ours, how much could that be?” the wolf-headed youth scoffed.

“Not sure, but rumor has it his grandfather was once a high-ranking military officer who, after retiring, became director of the county’s biggest textile factory. Then, after the state-owned enterprise reforms, his parents went into business for themselves and probably made a good sum. There’s even a standalone villa near First High School. Not a fortune, but two or three million at least,” Brother Long calculated.

For men like them—kings in a small town—any move had to be well researched in advance. A state factory director was at least at a department-level position, higher than the county chief in those days. If the old man were still alive, even if Brother Long were bolder than a bear or a tiger, he wouldn’t dare provoke him. But the old man had died of illness seven or eight years ago, and the parents had both died in an accident three years back. Family connections, by the third generation, amounted to nothing.

“Textile factory director, villa near First High School… Why does that sound so familiar? What’s that guy’s name?” The wolf-headed youth frowned, racking his memory.

“I didn’t catch it… but it doesn’t matter. My cousin will send me his name soon enough,” Brother Long replied. His memory was selective—money he never forgot, but trivial people weren’t worth the effort.

As the two waited for news, a lackey hurried into their private room.

“Brother Long, Brother Lei, there’s been an incident at the hotpot place next door. Geng was leading us to negotiate, but we got interrupted by a customer,” he reported.

“I specifically said—no one’s allowed to eat there! Someone actually had the nerve? Who is he?” Brother Long’s displeasure was obvious.

“He said his name is Lin Lei. He claims he was Brother Lei’s classmate and… also said Brother Lei used to run with him,” the lackey replied carefully.

“Lin Lei? What a coincidence. Lei, wasn’t that the name of the guy my cousin was talking about? You two actually old classmates?” Brother Long said in surprise.

The wolf-headed man, Xue Lei, made the connection quickly. “That’s right. We were in high school together. Back then, his family was loaded. But after graduation, he vanished—never showed up to any reunions, and no one knows what became of him.”

“Well, now you know. He’s probably all alone and not doing well, which is why he’s been hiding. But from what your old classmate said, you really used to run with him? If that’s the case, he’s something of a senior to us. Should I do you a favor—so long as he stays out of the hotpot business, I’ll let my cousin’s issue go?” Brother Long said slyly.

First, he belittled Lin Lei, then brought up Xue Lei’s past association with him, pretending to show respect while actually fanning the flames. Clearly, Brother Long was not without cunning.

“Run with him? Nonsense. Back then, I just couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. He took it the wrong way,” Xue Lei retorted angrily.

Had it been for the sake of old classmates, Xue Lei might have stepped in to mediate—for there was a certain satisfaction in showing off before someone he once looked up to. But for someone who, right from the start, announced to everyone that Xue Lei used to be his underling? If Xue Lei didn’t utterly crush him, he’d lose face forever.

With that, Xue Lei tossed aside the massage, threw on a robe and slippers, and strode straight to the hotpot restaurant next door.

He had barely entered when he spotted Lin Lei eating not far away. After years apart, the man hadn’t changed at all—still the same pale, gentle-looking face.

“Well, if it isn’t Young Master Lin! When did you get back to An County? Didn’t even let your old classmates know—are you giving us the cold shoulder?” Xue Lei called out.

“And you are… Xue the Monkey, Xue Lei? It’s been a few years—you’ve gotten a lot bigger. I hear you’re doing well for yourself. Just mentioning your name put this lot in their place. What, are they all your lackeys now?” Lin Lei replied, a bit unused to seeing a familiar face after three years, and inadvertently let slip Xue Lei’s embarrassing high school nickname.

That was the final straw for Xue Lei. He shot back, needle for needle, “I heard your parents died three years ago. So? Just now back for the funeral?”

Boom.

The moment those words left his lips, the atmosphere in the restaurant turned icy. Boss Pan had already pulled his daughter behind the counter and summoned the kitchen crew—one with a spatula, another with a cleaver—standing ready to defend themselves.

As the owner, he ought to protect his customer, but judging by Lin Lei’s swagger, he was no ordinary patron. Pan decided not to get involved in their dispute, but kept his phone ready to call the police.

Without warning, Lin Lei made the first move. He picked up his half-finished plate of egg fried rice and hurled it, dish and all, squarely at Xue Lei’s face. The blow knocked Xue Lei to the ground, where he lay unconscious.