Chapter Sixty-Six: The Pit Is Too Small, the Face Too Large!

Chapter Sixty-Six: The Pit Is Too Small, The Face Too Big!

A white incandescent lamp hung from the wonton cart. Su Shan sat facing the light, her cheeks exquisitely flawless, her expression calm as still water.

When she stared at something for a long time, her long lashes would flutter gently.

Yes, Tang Zhong sat across from her, clearly able to see the delicate movements of her lashes as she blinked.

So beautiful. So alluring.

"You know so much about me—then you must also know that after I finish my wontons, I'll buy a cup of Old Zhang's apple juice to take back to the dorm," Su Shan said.

"Have it tomorrow," Tang Zhong suggested with a smile. "I'll treat you again."

"Our relationship isn't close enough for me to take your advice," Su Shan refused.

She slung her sports bag over her shoulder, pushed back her chair, and stood up.

When the boys who had rushed over to block Tang Zhong saw Su Shan, they all stood rooted to the spot, dumbstruck.

"Move," she said to one of the boys in her way. Her voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable, irresistible force.

The boy hurriedly stepped aside, avoiding the beauty as if she were some wild beast.

And then one, two, three, four, five—

As Su Shan walked forward, everyone naturally parted to form a path.

Whether tall and brawny or short and shrewd, whether long-haired heartthrob or bespectacled, bald-headed type, all stepped aside without resistance.

"Pay the bill," Su Shan said to Tang Zhong, who still sat unmoving.

Tang Zhong took out fifteen yuan and placed it on the table. Wontons were five yuan a bowl—they'd had two, and ordered one extra.

Although the third bowl hadn't arrived yet, Tang Zhong insisted on paying. He was a reasonable man.

"Let's go," Su Shan said.

Tang Zhong didn't move.

Some things, after all, must be resolved.

Su Shan glanced back at Tang Zhong, but didn't insist. She turned and went to the shop next door to buy her juice.

With Su Shan gone, Tang Zhong had nothing holding him back.

He looked up at a boy standing in front of him and asked with a smile, "Where's Qiao Lei?"

"We don't know any Qiao Lei or Zhang Lei," the boy retorted, pointing at Tang Zhong. "Kid, you stole my girl. I've finally caught you tonight. If you don't give me an explanation, I'll give you one."

"Of all the excuses you could pick, you choose to put a green hat on yourself?" Tang Zhong smiled wryly. "So, is this where you start a fight?"

"Bros, get him—" shouted the tallest, burliest guy.

Unfortunately for him, before his friends could react, Tang Zhong had already "gotten" them.

He grabbed the chair Su Shan had just vacated and smashed it hard at the guy's head.

The guy was bold enough to raise his arm to block—

Bang—

His body was sent flying.

As he staggered backward, collapsing onto several friends who tried to steady him, Tang Zhong sprang up and kicked him square in the chest. The big guy, along with those behind him, crashed to the ground.

A rush of wind from behind—Tang Zhong ducked low.

Bang—

A large wonton bowl whizzed past his head and shattered against the alley wall.

Tang Zhong swung the chair in a one-hundred-eighty-degree arc, smashing down two would-be attackers coming from behind.

"Ugh—" Tang Zhong grunted as a club struck his back.

He spun quickly, parrying the second blow from the big guy with the chair leg. Then he lashed out with a kick, sending the big guy rolling on the ground, clutching his groin and howling in pain.

Chair in hand, Tang Zhong was like a tiger descending the mountain, scattering the gang of student-dressed thugs, making them flee in terror, wailing for their mothers.

Though his opponents had a numbers advantage—over thirty men—they acted as a disorganized rabble, hesitant and cowardly. Before they could even achieve anything, they were already thinking of escape, focused only on protecting themselves. How could they ever hope to match Tang Zhong, who had received military-style training in prison?

Tang Zhong's skills came partly from occasional pointers from the Big Boss, partly from the mentorship of a demoted ex-special forces officer-turned-prison-guard, but mostly from experience and observation dealing with ruthless inmates.

Ruthlessness—one strike, decisive.

Accuracy—attack the vital points.

Speed—while you hit me once, I hit you eleven times—

Moreover, he fought with a reckless abandon, willing to risk everything. This aura of "I'll drag the emperor off his throne even at the cost of my own life" utterly terrified his adversaries, leaving them no will to fight back.

"Don't hit me—don't—"

Bang—

"I'm sorry! I'll never do it again—my dad is Li Gang—"

Bang—

"Spare me, hero! I've got nothing against you—we're just helping Qiao Lei—"

Bang—

Whoever had attacked him earlier, as long as Tang Zhong caught up, he'd smack them with the chair.

No use reporting names. No use begging for mercy. No use snitching.

Since you came, you've already made your mistake.

If you break the rules, you must pay the price.

If wrongdoing has no cost, this world descends into chaos.

Tang Zhong gave no thought to what might happen if he lost. It wasn't that he thought himself invincible, but because he would try his utmost to win.

He'd put in the effort, fought hard. That was enough.

A few stragglers hid far away, dodging Tang Zhong as if he were the plague.

He needn't even take a step forward—at the mere hint of pursuit, they'd retreat a dozen steps. It made him lose interest in chasing them.

"Let Qiao Lei come out," Tang Zhong tossed the battered stool to the ground. "At this point, if he still doesn't dare appear, it's too shameful."

"I'm here," came a man's voice.

The crowd parted once more. Qiao Lei walked over with Li Dapeng and others.

Tang Zhong recognized them all—four had been dumped into the Ink-Washing Pond by him, and two had jumped in themselves.

Qiao Lei faced Tang Zhong, his expression complicated.

Being slung over Tang Zhong's shoulder and tossed into the lotus pond had been an unspeakable humiliation.

And with the story spreading far and wide, they were a laughingstock not only in the International Trade Department, but all across South University.

Vengeance!

They had to get revenge!

They knew Tang Zhong could fight. The six of them together weren't his match—the proof was plain.

To bring him down, they'd need more allies.

But too many people meant no chance to act on campus—too easily discovered, teachers would intervene before a fight could start.

So, they kept watch for Tang Zhong. The moment he left campus, they'd ambush him.

Tonight, Qiao Lei was drinking and playing cards in the dorm when his phone rang. A guy out walking his girlfriend called to say he'd just seen Tang Zhong leave the campus, heading toward the food street, probably for a late-night snack.

Qiao Lei threw down his cards and started mobilizing his network. He had friends in every department—International Trade, Civil Engineering, Management, Humanities. Soon, he’d assembled a crew of over thirty.

Among them were two especially big guys, both basketball centers. With their muscle suppressing Tang Zhong, plus so many brothers, surely Tang Zhong would get the worst of it.

But things turned out unexpectedly—they were so useless that they couldn't even run away properly.

If they could win, they'd fight; if not, they'd flee. If they ran, Qiao Lei could claim to be uninvolved, pretend the whole thing had nothing to do with him. Even the school couldn't touch him.

But a few idiots got knocked down and couldn't even get up, lying on the ground howling.

So Qiao Lei had no choice but to show himself.

If he ran now, his reputation would be ruined for good.

And then, who would ever help him again? He’d have no chance to turn things around.

Tang Zhong pointed at the few who’d tried to attack him earlier but now cowered behind Qiao Lei, and said, "Seems there's no point in talking anymore, is there?"

"That's right. I brought them here." Qiao Lei admitted, like a real man. "I told you I'd get revenge. If not this time, then next time. If not next time, then the time after that—Tang Zhong, one day you'll fall into my hands. One day, I'll make your life a living hell."

"I recall telling you last time—you’re not a bad guy, just a bit stupid," Tang Zhong said, eyes narrowing in a smile. "Why are you so sure I'll give you another chance?"

"What are you going to do?" Qiao Lei sneered. "Kill me? Or drive me out of South University?"

"I don't kill—murder is against the law. I can’t drive you out of South University either. I suppose, since you dare to do this, you must have something to rely on—" Tang Zhong said with a smile. "But why not just leave on your own?"

"Why should I?" Qiao Lei scoffed.

"Well, what if you suddenly ate a pile of shit?" Tang Zhong said.

"You—" Qiao Lei recoiled two steps in fright.

Without warning, Tang Zhong leapt forward, punching Li Dapeng in the eye as he tried to intercept. He kicked another guy to the ground, then ducked low and hoisted Qiao Lei over his shoulder.

Qiao Lei gripped Tang Zhong's neck, trying to force him to back down.

But soon, his hands lost strength.

Tang Zhong carried Qiao Lei, step by step, toward a public restroom at the street’s edge, under the wide-eyed, slack-jawed gaze of countless students on the food street.

He strode in without hesitation. Qiao Lei’s friends followed to the door but dared not go in.

What if Tang Zhong made them eat shit too?

To their surprise, Tang Zhong soon re-emerged, still carrying Qiao Lei, saying apologetically, "The pit is too small, the face too big. I couldn't make him eat it."

As if apologizing, as if explaining, he turned and carried Qiao Lei back inside.

Splash—

Then, many people heard the distinct sound of something heavy dropping into water from inside the restroom.