Chapter Thirty-Two: Then That Proves I Am Dead

Chapter Thirty-Two: That Will Prove I’m Dead!

Liu Mingwei nearly stumbled and fell to the ground; after all his talking, that woman hadn’t shown a single sign of compromise. Even Bai Su was getting anxious. Why was Huiyin being so stubborn? If they really called the police, Liu Mingwei wasn’t entirely without a chance of losing—after all, his son was beaten unconscious, and they were the victims. More importantly, he worried that if the police were involved, the Butterfly Group would have to go to the station to give statements. If anyone discovered that Tang Zhong was actually a man, this matter could never be settled quietly. It would be a loss for everyone.

Yet since Lin Huiyin insisted, Bai Su couldn’t persuade her otherwise; doing so would only make Liu Mingwei believe they were guilty. Liu Mingwei, a seasoned fox in the business world, was sharp enough to notice.

“Yes. Call the police. Let the officers arrest this villain,” Zhang Hepburn echoed, “He dared to touch my thigh—no one has ever touched my thigh before.” After thinking, she realized her statement was too absolute and added, “Except for my mom when she bathed me, no one else has ever had the chance.”

Liu Mingwei took a deep breath, suppressing his irritation. Suddenly, he smiled and looked at Lin Huiyin. “Miss Huiyin, what Weidong did tonight was indeed wrong. As his father, I apologize on his behalf. He’s still young, and he drank quite a bit tonight—men always make mistakes when drinking. Please, for the sake of my reputation, grant him another chance.”

Seeing Lin Huiyin’s face remain cold and silent, Liu Mingwei continued, “Of course, I know all of you suffered tonight. I’ve prepared a small gift, and I hope you’ll accept it.”

Where could Liu Mingwei have prepared a gift for such an unexpected event? So, he took out his checkbook and wrote a check. “Here is one million—consider it a token to settle your nerves.” He handed the money to Bai Su.

“Director Liu, you’re being too formal. We didn’t accept your invitation for this million,” Bai Su said, not reaching for the check.

“Haha, yes, yes, I understand. This has nothing to do with our relationship. As I said, it’s just a small gift for you ladies.” Liu Mingwei looked at the number on the check and said, “Oh, old age makes me write the numbers wrong sometimes.” He put the million-dollar check back in his pocket and took out his checkbook again, writing a new number.

“Manager Bai, please accept this small gift.” Liu Mingwei once again handed over the check. “I’ve shown my sincerity. Please, Manager Bai, try to persuade Miss Huiyin. All three of them are young ladies, and stubbornness is understandable. But they also have bright futures ahead and many roads yet to walk; there’s no need to stubbornly clash with a stone.”

“I feel your sincerity, Director Liu.” Bai Su, calm and collected, took the check and said, “Their clothes are dirty. I’ll use this money to buy them new ones.”

“Thank you, Manager Bai,” Liu Mingwei replied courteously.

“We also regret that such things happened,” Bai Su glanced at Liu Weidong. “Whether you believe it or not, Director Liu, we don’t wish to bear a grudge against you.”

“How could that be? We’ll still be friends in the future,” Liu Mingwei said with genuine warmth.

“Goodbye.” Bai Su walked over, took Zhang Hepburn by the hand, and was the first to leave the private room.

Lin Huiyin followed closely, without sparing a backward glance.

Tang Zhong walked out last, just in time to catch the moment Liu Mingwei’s smiling face turned into a cold sneer.

“Director Liu, are you all right?” Yan Li, the Office Director, approached with concern.

“I’m fine,” Liu Mingwei waved her off. “Send Weidong to the hospital. I won’t show my face.”

“All right, I’ll call someone up now,” Yan Li started making calls. The driver was still waiting downstairs.

“Director Liu, should we terminate our contract with the Butterfly Group?” MIFU’s Marketing Manager, Cao Lei, came over to ask.

“Terminate it?” Liu Mingwei shook his head. “That would be too easy for them. My money isn’t so easily earned.”

“I understand,” Cao Lei replied, his expression dark.

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Although they’d won a resounding victory, the atmosphere inside the car was heavy. The mood lingered, and even after they returned to the villa, no one spoke to break the silence.

Lin Huiyin turned on the television. Zhang Hepburn buried herself in her computer game. Bai Su kicked off her high heels, slumped onto the sofa, and stared up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Tang Zhong smiled, unconcerned. He was preparing to go to his room, wash off his makeup, change into his “ordinary” clothes, and return to school. Tomorrow’s military training required an early start; he couldn’t sleep outside.

“Tang Zhong,” Bai Su suddenly called out.

He turned around, seeing Bai Su sit up straight.

“I’d like to talk with you,” Bai Su gestured to the sofa before her.

Tang Zhong grinned; he knew she couldn’t resist talking to him, though he hadn’t expected her to hold out so long.

He sat where Bai Su pointed, adopting a posture of earnest listening.

Looking at his delicate face, long eyelashes, beautiful eyes, and alluringly curved lips, Bai Su couldn’t reconcile the Tang Zhong before her with the one who, in the Wilson Hotel’s private room, had rained punches on Liu Weidong’s face.

She had only given him a dual identity, not a dual personality.

In a moment of distraction, she didn’t know what to say to begin.

“Tang Zhong, do you have anything you want to say?” Bai Su asked.

“No,” Tang Zhong shook his head.

“Do you think—what you did tonight was right?” she asked.

“Whether it was right or not doesn’t matter,” Tang Zhong replied. “What matters is whether it should have been done.”

“So you mean—as long as you believe it should be done, even if it’s wrong, you’ll do it?” Bai Su pressed.

Tang Zhong looked at Bai Su’s alluring face, thinking how striking she was; the mature charm she possessed far surpassed Lin Huiyin and Zhang Hepburn.

“You’re looking at my face now—” Tang Zhong said. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Do you think I’m a bad person?

The question stunned Bai Su.

Was he a bad person?

He’d broken two ribs of the thug who harassed him, and tonight he’d beaten the MIFU Group chairman’s son unconscious for insulting and attempting to violate them—on the surface, he seemed a violent man.

Yet both times, he acted once for himself, and once for them.

He wasn’t a bad person.

The question was, why did someone who wasn’t bad act so ruthlessly?

“You’re not a bad person,” Bai Su affirmed. “No one thinks you’re a bad person. If I thought you were, I wouldn’t have let you live here—I want to talk to you about whether you can control your emotions. I’ve said before, you’re a celebrity, and every action is under scrutiny. A slip or mistake is magnified endlessly and attacked. We live in peaceful times, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. The slander of public opinion can be more unbearable than knives and guns.”

“I know,” Tang Zhong nodded, highly agreeing with Bai Su’s words. “That’s why I never live for those irrelevant idiots.”

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Seeing Bai Su rendered speechless again by his words, Tang Zhong felt a faint sense of pride.

He looked at Bai Su and asked, “If I weren’t Tang Xin—if Tang Xin was herself, and tonight’s events happened, how would you have handled it?”

“Refuse, and then leave,” Bai Su replied.

“Then the things he said and did would simply be left unresolved?” Tang Zhong squinted.

Bai Su’s gaze flickered. “—Maybe slap him. But never beat him like that.”

Tang Zhong grinned. “You know, I came out of prison. I lived there for many years, since I was very young. Ate government food, wore donated clothes, even learned to fight from the inmates—I learned a lot of things in there, some useful, some I’ll never need.”

“But what I think I learned most is understanding some truths—why are criminals locked up? Because they did wrong. Everyone who’s done wrong deserves punishment. Only then, when they get out, will they want to be good people.”

“If people can do wrong without paying any price, isn’t the cost of crime too low? Wouldn’t that be unfair to those locked away for years, decades, or even a lifetime?”

“Others have to pay with their lives or years for their mistakes—why should some get to live in peace?”

“Tang Zhong, I understand,” Bai Su said, moved by his words. But things couldn’t keep developing like this.

Tang Zhong had beaten a harassing fan last time, Liu Weidong this time—what about next time?

“Tang Zhong, this society isn’t as pure as you imagine—”

“You’re wrong. I’m just too disappointed in society, so I have to use my fists,” Tang Zhong laughed.

“This industry is even worse. What happened tonight will happen again. Do you intend to fight back every single time?”

“Why not?” Tang Zhong retorted.

“If you keep this up, eventually you’ll meet your match.”

“Then I’ll break through even the hardest.”

“If—you face someone you can’t fight, will you still throw your punches?”

“Impossible,” Tang Zhong said.

“Aren’t you too confident?”

“As long as I think someone should be challenged, I’ll persist to the end.” Tang Zhong smiled, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable dominance. “If one day I don’t throw my fist at them—that will prove I’m dead.”

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