Chapter 50: Majestic and Commanding

At the gates of Rongcheng No. 1 High School, the crowd was dense, yet not a sound could be heard—one could hear a pin drop. Every pair of eyes was fixed on a single high school student.

Zhang Dagen stared at Yan Yu, stunned. Only now did he truly grasp the immense power that lay behind Yan Yu. On his very first day at Rongcheng No. 1 High, the principal himself had come to receive him in person. Principal Deng, whose influence in Rongcheng was unrivaled, was so respectful that he insisted Yan Yu address him as “Little Deng.”

Within less than a week of arriving at Rongcheng No. 1 High, Yan Yu dared to stir up trouble with Li Kang, the school’s most notorious playboy, and his gang. Not only did he beat Li Kang soundly, but the infamous troublemaker didn’t even dare utter a word in protest.

Now, barely a month after Yan Yu’s arrival, even the formidable Song Jiulong had been thrashed and strung up by him. Song Jiulong’s boss, Meng Guohui, had come, only to address Yan Yu as “Young Yan,” allowing Yan Yu to deal with his trusted men as he pleased.

Zhang Dagen suddenly felt that calling Yan Yu “Young Yan” on a daily basis was far too presumptuous of him. There was good reason for Principal Deng to call Yan Yu “Crown Prince.”

At this moment, Song Jiulong, known as Ninth Master, looked utterly defeated. Despairing, he turned to Meng Guohui and pleaded, “Boss Meng, I’ve been with you for five years. If I hadn’t taken the fall for you back then, you’d still be rotting in prison. Now, you’re going to abandon a loyal subordinate for a mere high school student?!”

Meng Guohui sighed deeply. “Old Song, I’ve warned you before: you can mess with anyone, but never provoke Yan Yu of Rongcheng No. 1 High. Today, it’s not that I don’t want to protect you—it's just that I can’t even protect myself!”

“Why? Why?! He’s just a high school student!” Ninth Master roared. “Meng Guohui, if you leave me behind today, how will you face the rest of the brothers? How can you expect them to risk their lives for you?”

At these words, Meng Guohui’s eyes flashed coldly. Ninth Master knew his fate was sealed, so he tried to sow discord among the gang, tarnishing Meng Guohui’s reputation.

Just then, Yan Yu spoke up. “Boss Meng, things don’t have to get so ugly. Since Ninth Master is your man, I can let him go.”

Meng Guohui immediately asked, “What’s the condition?”

“The condition is that Ninth Master must personally cripple Tan Junwen’s hands.”

Yan Yu’s smile was cold.

Earlier, it was Tan Junwen who had threatened to cripple Yan Yu. Now, it was only fair to return the favor—nothing excessive.

Tan Junwen heard Yan Yu’s words and nearly collapsed, trembling as he leaned against his sports car. He whispered, “Boss Meng, my father is Tan Yonggui. You’re good friends. You won’t just stand by and watch, will you?”

“To me, Tan Yonggui is merely a business partner, nowhere near as important as my brothers. And you’re just his son—not even Tan Yonggui himself.”

Meng Guohui’s words sent Tan Junwen plummeting into despair. Yan Yu released his grip on Ninth Master’s throat, and Ninth Master understood Yan Yu’s intent.

Yan Yu didn’t want to make things difficult for Meng Guohui, nor did he want to lose his own way out. But as for Tan Yonggui, he would never let him off.

“Ninth Master... Ninth Master, you wouldn’t really do it, would you?” Tan Junwen asked in terror.

Ninth Master managed to stand, took a baseball bat from one of his men, and staggered over to Tan Junwen.

“I’m sorry, but if I want to live, I have to cripple your hands.”

He raised the bat and brought it down hard on Tan Junwen’s arm. Tan Junwen screamed in agony and tried to flee, but Meng Guohui’s men had him surrounded—there was nowhere to run.

With one blow, Tan Junwen’s left hand went limp, refusing to obey him. His elbow swelled rapidly, ballooning up like a pig’s trotter.

Several thugs pinned Tan Junwen down, forcing his other hand onto the hood of a Lamborghini.

Bang—

Ninth Master delivered another vicious blow. Tan Junwen broke out in a cold sweat, veins bulging on his neck; the pain made his whole body shudder, and his eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness.

Seeing this, Ninth Master breathed a sigh of relief and muttered, “It’s better he passed out. Passed out, the pain isn’t so bad. Passed out, he won’t cause any more trouble.”

He dropped the bat and knelt before Yan Yu, knocking his head to the ground three times, splitting his forehead and bleeding before he finally spoke:

“Young Yan, I failed to recognize greatness. Please forgive me. If not, I am willing to cripple my own leg to show my remorse!”

Even Yan Yu couldn’t help but click his tongue in astonishment—Song Jiulong truly was ruthless, willing to go to extremes to survive.

To the onlookers, it was a shocking sight: the notorious Ninth Master kneeling in fear before Yan Yu, offering to cripple himself with no dignity at all.

“The beating’s been dealt, the punishment given. That’s enough for today,” Yan Yu said calmly.

Ninth Master felt as though he had been granted amnesty, knocked his head to the ground three more times, and then, supported by his men, managed to stand.

Meng Guohui stepped forward and said in a grave voice, “Old Song, have your men take you to the hospital, and take that idiot Tan Junwen with you.”

“Thank you, Boss Meng.” Ninth Master nodded and hurriedly ordered his men to carry both himself and Tan Junwen away.

Having witnessed Yan Yu’s immense influence, security captain Zhang Dagen was once again grateful. Back then, he’d called Yan Yu a little beggar—thank heaven Yan Yu hadn’t taken offense.

Meng Guohui gave his men a signal, and within moments, hundreds of thugs piled into their cars. Whether vans or Audis, they all vanished in less than a minute. Even the smashed Lamborghini was towed away.

Meng Guohui bowed slightly to Yan Yu and said, “Young Yan, I apologize. I never expected our first contact would happen under such circumstances.”

“I hadn’t intended to trouble my second mother,” Yan Yu replied calmly.

He meant he didn’t want to trouble his second mother, not Meng Guohui.

Yan Yu was well aware of the power behind him. Most of the time, he didn’t wish to rely on his background, preferring to be an ordinary person with some ability. But if anyone wanted to contest backgrounds, Yan Yu would see it through to the end. Ninth Master was nothing—Meng Guohui himself would be no exception.

“Young Yan, now that you’re in Rongcheng, if you ever need help, feel free to contact me. Here’s my card.” Meng Guohui offered his business card with both hands. Yan Yu gave Su Han a look, and, as if under some spell, Su Han stepped forward and took the card for him.

Only after receiving the card did Su Han realize: Yan Yu was treating him like his secretary?!

In the past, Su Han would have flicked Yan Yu on the forehead without hesitation, but after witnessing Yan Yu’s terrifying power today, Su Han found himself reluctant, even feeling that Yan Yu had become somewhat unfamiliar.

Was this what Yan Yu looked like when he was angry?

So imposing, so commanding—how could one not be drawn to him?