Chapter Fifty-Five: The Barbecue Restaurant Is a Grand Endeavor

Zhao Haiqiang laughed and said, “Young Master Long, they always say the wise don’t hold grudges against the petty—must you make things so awkward?”

At that moment, Long Teng suddenly seemed to transform. He adopted the demeanor of someone above the fray, his voice cold. “The wise don’t hold grudges against the petty? Ha! And why should I? Just because I’m richer than you, more powerful than you, I should let you off with a simple phrase like that when you’ve crossed me? Does the world work that way? If someone weaker than you offends you, would you really let them go so easily? Remember, that phrase should be reversed: it’s the petty who don’t hold grudges against the noble! Isn’t that how you usually do things? To put it plainly, it’s bullying the weak and fearing the strong, isn’t it? Well, tonight, let me play the bully for once.”

By now, the music in the club had long since stopped; everyone was watching the confrontation, and Long Teng’s words echoed in every ear. Zhao Hai wished he could disappear into the floor.

He took a deep breath and stared at Long Teng, his expression growing dark. “Young Master Long, what you’re saying is pointless. There’s no deep hatred between us—does it have to go this far? They say porcelain shouldn’t fight with tiles. You’re fine porcelain, and we’re just broken bricks and shards. Are you sure you want to tear things apart with us? Even if we can’t outmatch you, you won’t walk away unscathed, will you? Your Long family is rich and powerful, but we have nothing to lose!”

Long Teng acted as if he hadn’t heard a word. “You dare talk tough after offending the Long family? I’ll give you ten minutes. If Zhai Dacheng doesn’t show up, none of you are leaving. Brother Yang, let’s enjoy our drinks.” He clinked glasses with Yang Meng and took a sip. “Hey, Boss Zhang, rumor has it that clubs serve fake liquor, but yours is the real deal.”

Zhang Qiang grinned obsequiously. “Young Master Long, you must be joking. We’d never serve fake drinks.”

Inwardly he thought: I was going to switch to the cheap stuff once you’d had enough. Good thing I didn’t.

“You…” Zhao Hai glared as Long Teng and his friends ignored him. He wanted to turn and leave, but a glance at Yang Meng stopped him.

He already had a psychological shadow when it came to Yang Meng. Gritting his teeth, he pulled out his phone and made a call—to Zhai Dacheng. After explaining the situation to his boss, he gave a few instructions to a little henchman, who immediately turned and left.

He’d figured it out: the initiative had to be in his own hands.

Zhang Qiang gave Li Xiaoqing a look, and she caught on right away. She said to Yang Meng, “Big brother, this is my boss, Zhang Qiang. We all call him Brother Qiang.”

Wearing a broad smile, Zhang Qiang signaled to Ah Le to bring him a drink. “Just call me Zhang Qiang, brothers. Tonight, my humble establishment is honored to have such distinguished guests. Allow me to toast you all.” He downed his drink in one go.

Yang Meng lifted his glass with a smile. “In our tradition, standing doesn’t count for drinking. We’re all friends here—let’s sit and drink together.”

“Well, I won’t stand on ceremony then!” Zhang Qiang sat right down. He could see now that Zhao Hai and his crew had planned to target him from the start. If not for Yang Meng and his friends coming to the club tonight, who knows how things would have turned out?

Li Xiaoqing was even more forthright. She walked over to Yang Meng and, though Long Teng was already seated, insisted on sitting between the two men, then looked at Deng Chao, his head wrapped in bandages, like a proud little peacock.

Deng Chao wanted to lash out, but Zhao Hai grabbed him tightly. “Calm down. These people aren’t to be trifled with. We have to wait for your uncle!”

“Hmph, what’s so special about them?” Deng Chao retorted. “There’s more of us; can’t we take them down? If there’s trouble later, we’ll deal with it then—let’s take them out first! Isn’t that how we’ve always done things? Brother Hai, when did you get so soft?”

Zhao Hai just shook his head with a bitter smile. You think I don’t know what to do? If it were just Long Teng, that’d be one thing, but there’s a human monster sitting over there! So many of us—wouldn’t even be enough to fill the gap between his teeth.

Deng Chao, after all these years, don’t you know me? Do you think I’m a coward? It’s just that you can’t afford not to be cautious when facing people like this! Ugly as you are, what’s worse is that your brain’s missing a screw.

Inbreeding is a disaster.

Deng Chao shook his head at Zhao Hai, snorted coldly, reached for a knife tucked behind a henchman’s belt, and shouted, “Why are you scared? There’s just a few of them! Come with me! Whoever cripples them gets a hundred grand from me!”

As soon as he pulled the knife, the onlookers gasped in shock.

Zhao Hai saw this and knew things had taken a turn for the worse. He was about to intervene, when a whisky glass flew straight into Deng Chao’s face. The glass wasn’t large but heavy—it knocked Deng Chao to the ground, his bandaged head bleeding once again.

“Boss Zhang, could you have someone bring another glass?” Yang Meng said calmly.

Zhang Qiang swallowed hard. He hadn’t even seen what happened—how did someone get knocked out with a glass so fast? Looking at Yang Meng’s group, he was left speechless. Yang Meng was one thing, but Hu Erleng and Qi Kun each held a bottle, and even Ling Feng, who had seemed so timid, gripped a glass in his right hand, ready to throw, though he’d reacted a bit late; in his left, he still held a bottle, poised for action.

What kind of people were these?

If Zhao Hai’s lot were street thugs, then Yang Meng and his friends looked more like desperados.

Long Teng was equally stunned. “Brother Yang, why are you all so hot-tempered?”

Yang Meng shrugged. “Where I come from, people are fierce. Villages fight all the time. Who among us hasn’t taken a beating? After enough of them, you learn. ‘Strike first to gain the upper hand; wait and you’ll suffer’—that’s ingrained in us. It’s instinct. We don’t look for trouble, but if trouble finds us, we don’t hold back.”

Long Teng was amazed. “Brother Yang, you’ve been beaten up before?”

Who could have done that—Superman?

Hu Erleng chimed in, “Why couldn’t Meng Meng get beaten up? Madman’s given him a thrashing more than once, right, Madman?”

Ling Feng shrugged. “Just some friendly sparring.”

Long Teng gave Ling Feng a thumbs-up in admiration. Zhao Hai was even more shocked. One freak like Yang Meng was enough to make his knees weak, but there was someone even stronger right here?

Yang Meng didn’t know what Zhao Hai was thinking, nor would he have bothered to explain even if he did. Let the misunderstanding stand—it was a beautiful one, after all.

Zhang Qiang raised his glass. “I like your style, gentlemen—real men, all of you! A toast!”

Qi Kun sighed after draining his glass. “We’ve suffered plenty for this temperament of ours.”

Hu Erleng grinned. “Suddenly reminds me of those two drunks you met when you first arrived.”

Qi Kun groaned, “Why bring up that shame? That’s a lifelong humiliation!”

Long Teng asked curiously, “What happened?”

Qi Kun shook his head with a wry smile. “Back when I worked night shifts, I picked up two men and a woman outside a club. The woman was drunk, and the two men got handsy in the car, practically ready to get it on then and there. I couldn’t stand it—taking advantage of a helpless woman! I tried to stop them, but it didn’t work, so I fought them.”

Long Xixiang immediately said, “Well done! Men like that deserve a beating. I bet the woman was grateful?”

Hu Erleng snorted coldly. “Well done? The two men called the cops and got ‘Lobster’ arrested. Turns out, the woman was just playing at being drunk for excitement—no gratitude there. She testified against him, and he was charged with causing a disturbance. In the end, Lobster had to pay thirty thousand yuan, and we all chipped in to cover it.”

Zhang Qiang, confused, asked, “Er, may I ask what you gentlemen do?”

“Do?” Qi Kun laughed. “Boss Zhang, you’re quite the talker. Here, let me introduce us. That guy’s a salesman at a car dealership—though he’s been in the hospital for days and is probably close to being fired. Meng Meng here? He’s a laid-off delivery guy. I’m a taxi driver, and Ling Feng has the fanciest job—he works at the police station, but as an auxiliary officer. You could say, except for Ling Feng, the rest of us are all unemployed.”

Zhang Qiang was dumbfounded. Taxi driver? Delivery guy? Car salesman? Auxiliary cop? These were the kind of nobodies he’d never have looked at twice. The heir of the Long Group hanging out with such riffraff? He could hardly believe it.

Zhang Qiang smiled wryly. “Brother Qi, I thought we were friends, but you’re keeping secrets? Is this some kind of joke?”

Qi Kun was surprised. “How am I joking?”

Zhang Qiang looked Qi Kun up and down. “You’re really a taxi driver?”

“Didn’t you just hear me telling my taxi story? A week ago, I was still driving. Now I’m jobless, but not for long. We’re about become businessmen ourselves,” Qi Kun said proudly.

His words piqued Long Teng’s interest. “Brother Qi, what business are you starting?”

Qi Kun beamed. “We’re opening a barbecue restaurant.”

Zhang Qiang was speechless. Why was he so proud of opening a barbecue place, as if it were some great enterprise?

Before he could make sense of it, three voices chimed in at once: “Count me in—okay?”

Yang Meng blinked. He could understand Long Teng and Long Xixiang wanting in, but who was the third voice? When did another man show up?

“Uh, and you are?”

“I’m Zhai Dacheng.”