Chapter Fifty-One: Homecoming

The source of the scream was none other than Li Yanling. At this moment, two drunken, lecherous men surrounded her. One of them was gripping her wrist with restless hands, spewing vulgar words as he teased her.

Before Ye Yan could fully grasp the situation, Liao Zhong, who sat across from him, could no longer restrain himself. With a sharp movement, he shot up from his seat, snatched up a stool, and charged forward.

With a thunderous crack, the plastic stool shattered instantly under Liao Zhong’s furious blow. Even without resorting to his inner energy, the force was enough—his rage made the plastic worthless resistance. The man who was struck went down at once, collapsing into unconsciousness.

“To fly into a rage for the sake of a beauty,” Ye Yan remarked calmly from the side, clicking his tongue in admiration, though he had no intention of intervening.

An Awakened One without inner energy was still formidable—dealing with a couple of petty thugs was a trivial matter, easily handled single-handedly. There was no need for anyone else to step in.

“Who hit my brother?” the other thug shouted, emboldened by drink. He grabbed an empty bottle from the table, eager to avenge his fallen friend.

But when he turned, he saw Liao Zhong’s fierce, menacing face above the pile of shattered plastic. The thug’s expression froze instantly, the bottle he’d raised above his head pausing in midair.

One glance was enough to sober him halfway.

He swallowed hard, instinctively trying to take two steps back, wanting to put some distance between himself and the bear-like Liao Zhong. But Liao Zhong seized him by the collar and lifted him like a helpless chick.

“Big... big brother, please, don’t do anything rash. Assault is a crime, you know,” the thug stammered, terror-stricken by Liao Zhong’s imposing size, taut muscles, and the overwhelming sense of threat. Dangling in the air by one hand, he was on the verge of wetting himself.

But Liao Zhong, still burning with anger, ignored his pleas. With a heavy slap, he struck the thug’s face.

“Does a beast count as a person?”

The blow was no light matter; the thug was stunned, his mouth swelling instantly.

“N-no... I suppose not...” he replied, his voice muffled, not daring to resist in the slightest.

Liao Zhong gave him another slap with the back of his hand. “Then how is it a crime? Care to explain that to me?”

“N-not a crime...?” The thug’s jaw felt loose after those two blows, and he forced a smile uglier than a cry as he answered.

“There you have it,” Liao Zhong declared, landing two more sharp slaps. The thug’s face ballooned, nearly pig-like, and he found himself envying his unconscious companion—at least that one was spared this misery.

Knowing better than to provoke Liao Zhong further, the thug wisely kept his mouth shut.

But Liao Zhong wasn’t done. Another backhanded slap left the thug completely dazed.

If I talk, you hit me. If I don’t talk, you hit me. If I’ve committed a crime, let the law deal with me, not your palm, he thought helplessly.

But Liao Zhong cared nothing for that. Lost in his anger, he simply kept slapping until, after a dozen or so, he finally tossed the battered man to the ground, thoroughly satisfied.

The other thug, still lying there, was barely conscious from Liao Zhong’s loving attention.

Liao Zhong pulled out his phone and made a call, summoning people to deal with the aftermath.

The commotion had sent most of the shop’s customers fleeing in terror, leaving the place quiet. Only a few who relished drama lingered by the door, cracking sunflower seeds as they watched.

Liao Zhong then turned to comfort the shaken Li Yanling. Before long, a few men in suits arrived, greeted Liao Zhong, and took the two thugs away.

Li Yanling’s spirits had plummeted, so Liao Zhong stayed by her side, consoling her.

Well, so much for having wontons tonight, Ye Yan thought. He decided he’d better go home and make instant noodles instead.

He rose to take his leave, letting Liao Zhong and Li Yanling have some privacy.

...

The day after his meal with Liao Zhong, Ye Yan bought his ticket back to Jinmen, preparing to return.

Huang Boran came to see him off. Until Liao Zhong made a full recovery, Huang would remain in Nanjian, overseeing the daily operations of the South China branch.

Liao Zhong was at a critical stage in mastering the Three Corpses, making it inconvenient for him to appear in public. It had taken much cajoling from both Ye Yan and Huang Boran for him to meet Ye Yan the previous day.

Chen Duo had also intended to come see him off, but Ye Yan had refused, insisting she stay put.

At Nanjian Airport, Ye Yan walked alongside Huang Boran. “Chairman Huang, how is Tu Junfang doing?”

“He’s alright, keeping his head down,” Huang replied.

Ye Yan remained somewhat wary of Tu Junfang. After a moment’s thought, he continued, “Chairman Huang, before I leave, there’s one more favor I’d like to ask. Could you transfer Chen Duo a bit farther away from Tu Junfang?”

Ye Yan didn’t have many concerns, but Chen Duo was one of them—an important one.

“That’s easy to arrange,” Huang Boran agreed readily. He was always accommodating; Ye Yan barely had to mention it before he decided. For now, Hei Guan’er and Wang Zhenqiu were handling Tu Junfang, and Chen Duo, though a temp at the South China branch, mostly handled external assignments.

“Thank you, Chairman Huang.”

“Of course. Take care. If you ever come to the capital, you must look me up.”

“I will, certainly...”

...

The flight landed on time at Baiyun Airport—no delays, no strange incidents.

“As I thought, Jinmen’s climate is still the most comfortable. Even the air here tastes sweet,” Ye Yan said, taking several deep breaths of the fresh air outside the terminal.

After staying in one place for too long, a sudden change of scene was always a little unsettling. Nanjian had its charms, but for Ye Yan, it couldn’t compare to Jinmen.

He lingered at the entrance for a moment before heading to the parking lot. Amidst the rows of luxury cars, his own brand-new Wuling minivan stood out conspicuously—its modesty made it all the more eye-catching.

He unlocked the door, got in, fastened his seatbelt.

Hands on the wheel, he drove out of the airport at a leisurely pace. Settling the parking fee, a four-digit sum nonetheless made his heart ache. What a rip-off.

With soft music playing in the car, the gentle melody echoing in the cabin, the atmosphere was peaceful and pleasant.

He drove slowly. As he entered the city, he stopped by the nearby Shengxian Supermarket to buy fresh meat, eggs, and vegetables for dinner—figuring that, after half a month away, whatever was left in his fridge would be far from fresh.

When he reached home, the front door was tightly locked; everything was exactly as he’d left it. Apparently, Xia He hadn’t returned even once during his absence.

Ye Yan sent Ma Laowu to fetch the keys and open the door, then drove the car into the courtyard.

And there, right at his doorstep, he saw a pitch-black, mysterious mass.