Chapter 50
Chapter 50: Venting Anger at Yun Jing and the Su Family!
To Yan Ting Feng, a hundred-thousand-yuan cup was just another object. He didn’t care about things like that—no more than he cared about counting the zeros in his bank balance. His subordinates handled all of it.
But once that cup became a gift for Ye Wan Lan, its meaning changed.
No one was allowed to interrupt his hunt.
“You…”
“W-what are you talking about?”
Even Sheng Song, dense as he was, felt the danger pressing down on him. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before!”
“She’s unhappy,” a voice said from the shadows, quiet and cold. “So I’m unhappy too.”
Yan Ting Feng’s face remained hidden. His lashes lowered. “Which means you don’t get to be happy, either.”
Rip—”Ah!”
A brutal force knocked Sheng Song off his feet. He hit the ground hard.
Before he could even draw a breath, fabric tore. Someone stomped down on him—again and again—right on his ankles, until he screamed himself hoarse.
Above him, he heard two people talking, but the words came and went like wind through a crack.
“I watched the video—he used his right foot. Tie Tie, you agree, right?”
“Don’t know. Just stomp him.”
“This brat’s bullied a lot of people. Not long ago he even put a boy in the hospital. That’s too much.”
Sheng Song sobbed and shrieked, but Bing He and Tie Ma didn’t stop.
A moment later, Bing He reported with bright satisfaction, “Young Lord, we’re done.”
Yan Ting Feng didn’t respond. He stood beneath the moon, unmoving.
His long white hair lifted in the wind. When the moonlight shifted, it scattered a faint, glossy glow over his silhouette.
He looked down at Sheng Song without saying a word.
A full ten minutes passed before Sheng Song recovered enough to move.
From beginning to end, he never saw anyone’s face.
What the hell was this?
“Ghost! There’s a ghost!”
Sheng Song didn’t care about anything else. He rolled and crawled out of the villa district, dragging himself along like a caterpillar.
Yan Ting Feng’s expression was ice. He took out a tissue and wiped a single drop of blood from the back of his hand.
“Still not enough…”
After sleeping for three hundred years, he still missed the old Jiang Hu, where grudges were settled fast and clean.
Anyone who harmed ordinary people deserved to die.
As Wu Lin’s supreme leader, he had the power—and the right.
“Let’s go.”
Yan Ting Feng turned.
Bing He followed closely. “Young Lord, should we tell Miss Ye?”
“Hm?”
Yan Ting Feng stopped and tilted his head.
“You helped her vent her anger—you should say something,” Bing He hurried to explain. “You can’t just do it and say nothing. That’ll bring you and Miss Ye closer.”
Tie Ma went rigid.
[Since when did Bing He have social skills?]
[Did he secretly go study behind my back, trying to outdo me?]
“No need,” Yan Ting Feng said flatly. “And keep your mouths shut.”
He didn’t want her to know his dark side, even if it was the real him.
Last time at Little Gold Mountain, meeting her without a disguise had been an accident.
Bing He immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.
“A ghost! There’s a ghost in the neighborhood!”
Sheng Song was still crawling on hands and knees. He rolled and scrambled all the way to the gate. The moment he saw someone, he latched on like a drowning man. “There’s a ghost inside!”
It was an elderly couple walking their dog. The old lady jumped with a frightened cry.
The old man flew into a rage and kicked him away. “What the hell is this?!”
“Young Master?”
The driver waiting outside recognized Sheng Song and froze. “How did you…?”
He’d gone into the Sheng Family estate and come out naked, like someone had stomped him half to death.
“There’s a ghost inside, hurry!” Sheng Song babbled. “We have to go! Drive!”
“Hey! What’s wrong with your property management?” the old man shouted, furious. “I didn’t buy a house here to watch some lunatic crawl around naked outside!”
He called the management office on the spot. “We pay twenty yuan per square meter in fees for this?!”
Staff rushed over at once. “Don’t worry, sir. We won’t let this kind of eyesore in again. I’ve already written down the license plate!”
The old man snorted. One hand held the old lady; the other led their Samoyed away.
That night, at the Sheng Family’s old residence, Sheng Yun Yi was on the phone with Zhou He Chen.
“He Chen… could I ask you a favor?” She hesitated. “I’m not sure if it’s convenient.”
Zhou He Chen had just finished a meeting. He looked tired as he pressed his temples, but he still asked gently, “Go ahead.”
“Do you remember that painting we saw at the Lin Family place a few days ago? It turns out that painting belongs to the Yong Ning School.”
Sheng Yun Yi continued, “But that day, aside from Qing Han, none of us noticed.”
“Really?” Zhou He Chen paused, slightly stunned.
Fang Qing Han had grown up around calligraphy and paintings. His eye was always accurate.
It was just that day, Zhou He Chen had been furious and hadn’t paid attention to anything else.
“I just want you to ask Miss Ye where she picked up that painting,” Sheng Yun Yi said with a small smile. “Her saying she ‘found it’ was probably just her being stubborn. She likely didn’t realize what it was worth.”
“All right. I’ll do it.” Zhou He Chen never refused any request of hers. “Since you like the Yong Ning School, I’ll go with you to the art exhibition this weekend.”
“You work so hard,” Sheng Yun Yi said softly. “You’re busy with work, and you still make time to accompany me.”
After the call ended, she set her phone down and stared at the surveillance clip she’d just received, deep in thought.
A long moment passed. Then she smiled—and forwarded the clip to someone else.
Early the next morning, Sheng Song didn’t come to class.
It wasn’t strange. Sheng Song skipped often, and the students in Senior 2 Class 2 were used to it.
In Senior 2 Class 1, though, classmates were talking nonstop.
“Sheng Song didn’t show up. I bet the discipline director took him away yesterday. He definitely got written up.”
“Our new classmate’s desk ended up like that. It was obviously him. Only his little group would target other classmates that way.”
“Good thing the discipline director could tell right from wrong and didn’t blame Wan Lan. Sheng Song deserved it.”
Ye Wan Lan flipped through the competition books the physics group leader had given her, reading at a startling speed.
These books really weren’t challenging for her. Back when she was trapped by time, she’d already started researching quantum entanglement.
“Huh, Wan Lan, you know physics?” a girl asked curiously. “Then why did you choose the history-chemistry-biology track? I chose history because I was so bad at physics I couldn’t keep studying it.”
Ye Wan Lan smiled faintly. “I like history.”
“I like history too, actually.” The girl sighed. “I’m just worried about what major to pick later. My mom wants me to study traditional Chinese medicine, but I’m not interested in medicine at all. Traditional Chinese medicine…”
Su Xue Qing, who’d been sitting quietly, suddenly shivered.
Hallucinated voices crashed into her ears.
“Look at what you’ve done. You study medicine! How could you do this?”
“Get out! Get out of the Su Family! The Su Family has no descendant like you. How can you face anyone?”
“Xue Qing, listen. Never go back to Yun Jing…”
Su Xue Qing clutched her head, trembling violently.
She pressed her hands over her ears, but the voices felt rooted in her skull. No matter what she did, she couldn’t shake them.
“Oh no—Classmate Ye, she’s having an episode!” The deputy class monitor panicked. “Move, move. Clear all the breakable stuff around her. She needs to calm down by herself.”
The last time Su Xue Qing had been like this was when a woman came to the class looking for her.
After that, she’d gone wild and smashed the vase in the classroom. Her hands had been covered in cuts, blood everywhere. It had been terrifying.
Su Xue Qing was usually invisible in class. Only after her episodes happened a few times did everyone realize how strange her situation was.
But Ye Wan Lan didn’t back away. She reached out and rested a hand on Su Xue Qing’s shoulder, her voice soft as a lullaby. “Calm down. Relax. Breathe in… breathe out…”
Miraculously, under her gentle guidance, the voices in Su Xue Qing’s ears faded. Her breathing steadied.
“I…”
Su Xue Qing came back to herself, still shaking. When she lifted her head, her face was streaked with messy tear tracks.
“Don’t cry anymore.” Ye Wan Lan pulled out tissues and wiped the tears away, one careful swipe at a time. Her voice softened even further. “It’s all in the past. You’ll have a very good future. No one can stop you from running toward your dreams.”
Su Xue Qing stared at her, slow to focus. “You…”
The deputy class monitor gaped. “She really got better…”
[Does Classmate Ye work like a sedative?]
“S-something happened!” The PE rep burst in, panting. “Our school is trending!”
“If it’s trending, it’s trending. It has nothing to do with us.” The deputy class monitor waved him off. “Go to the snack shop and buy some candy. Let Xue Qing get some energy.”
“It does! It’s a huge deal!” The PE rep shoved his phone forward, frantic. “They blurred the faces, but you can tell at a glance it’s our new classmate.”
Ye Wan Lan looked up.
“Blurred?” the deputy class monitor echoed, moving closer.
It was a ten-second surveillance clip from school: Ye Wan Lan kicking over Sheng Song’s desk, the desk toppling and pinning him beneath it.
Everyone’s faces had been blurred, but the movements were unmistakable.
The brand-new tag “#River City No. 7 High School bullying incident#” was already climbing the local trending list, dragging in a flood of River City netizens.
[This… this is a delinquent girl, right? Look at how ruthless that kick was—regular students can’t do that.]
[River City No. 7 High School? That trash high school way out in the suburbs? I heard they take any student just to boost enrollment. No wonder the school is trash, and the students are trash too.]
[If they don’t expel students like this, what parent can feel safe sending their kid there?]
For a moment, the classroom fell silent. Ye Wan Lan watched the screen, expression unreadable.