Chapter Seventy: Call Over Here!
Chapter Seventy: Come at Me!
Wei Feng had never liked studying since he was a child. When he was in kindergarten, the school was constantly troubled because he made his classmates cry every day with his fighting. He refused to learn to read, sing, dance, or draw; his only passion was fighting. His favorite game was "Cops and Robbers." He always played the robber, and made all the other children play as cops—every time, those little cops ended up bawling.
One chubby boy, terrified after being beaten, even sneaked out a gun from his home and gave it to Wei Feng, asking to join him as a robber. Wei Feng loved guns, and thus, the class ended up with two robbers.
Because of his father Wei Liucheng’s authority and status, neither the school nor the parents dared to voice their displeasure. But when the gun was discovered, Wei Feng’s "heroic deeds" were exposed at home. Wei Liucheng apologized to the school and took Wei Feng home to teach him personally.
Knowing his son loved fighting, Wei Liucheng invited renowned masters to teach him various martial arts. Under his father's scolding and the threat of the whip, Wei Feng was forced to learn all sorts of knowledge. Over the years, not only did Wei Feng avoid becoming a brute, he grew to be the most cultured and knowledgeable among his peers. Having spent much time with his father, he was exposed to all sorts of schemes, both overt and covert, making him more mature than other children.
Wei Liucheng never expected to unintentionally raise such an extraordinary son and felt immense pride. Wei Feng began systematic martial arts training at the age of five and showed remarkable talent; his skills improved rapidly. Eventually, even the champions of military close-combat contests were no match for him. He fought daily in the special forces camp, earning the nickname "Martial Eater." Others were obsessed with martial arts—he treated training like eating: three meals a day, never missing one.
He hadn’t expected that simply driving someone to Southern University would lead him to meet a skilled opponent—someone who could block his punch.
“How did you do that?” Wei Feng asked curiously, disregarding the fact that they were still locked in combat.
“I wanted to, so I did,” Tang Zhong replied with a smile, launching a lightning-fast kick toward Wei Feng’s groin.
“Sneaky,” Wei Feng muttered, already prepared, and kicked back.
Their shins collided with a muffled thud.
Tang Zhong didn’t give up after one failed kick. He kicked again.
Wei Feng, unwilling to be outdone, responded with another kick.
Bang—
Their shins collided.
Bang—
Their shins clashed again.
Bang—
Bang—
Bang—
They seemed possessed, wildly kicking at each other, abusing each other’s bodies with their own.
Ten times. Twenty. Thirty—
At last, they had no strength left to kick.
They exchanged a glance, gritted their teeth, and slammed their heads together.
Boom—
Sparks flew. Stars danced.
Their tightly clasped hands finally separated, and both staggered backward.
Bang, bang, bang—
Each retreated three steps, then steadied themselves.
“Fuck,” Wei Feng cursed, clutching his head in pain.
“Shit,” Tang Zhong swore. He had thought his legs were tough—turns out the other guy’s were just as sturdy. He thought his head was hard—his opponent’s wasn’t soft either.
“Wonderful. Truly wonderful,” You Mu applauded.
Su Shan watched Tang Zhong calmly, her face thoughtful.
Lu Juntuo finally began to take Tang Zhong seriously—and he couldn’t help it. He knew a bit of self-defense, but realized that if he went up against Tang Zhong, he’d probably be knocked out within three minutes.
“Could it be that Su Shan likes men with good fighting skills?” Lu Quntuo suddenly thought.
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Waiting to see Qiao Lei’s miserable appearance when he came out of the restroom, Hua Ming, Liang Tao, and Li Yu picked a spot at the barbecue stand diagonally opposite the restroom. After ordering twenty skewers of lamb, ten chicken wings, a few vegetable skewers, and a case of beer, they began drinking.
Yet, no matter how long they waited, Qiao Lei never came out—it was as if he planned to settle down in the restroom. The three felt both disappointed and angry.
Still, they could understand Qiao Lei’s mood. The campus street was lively, and plenty of people like Hua Ming were waiting at the door to witness his embarrassment—why would he want to come out?
Hua Ming and Liang Tao began drinking contests.
“Two little bees, flying among the flowers. Left, right—fly—ah, ah—”
They played rock-paper-scissors. Hua Ming was scissors, Liang Tao was paper. Hua Ming slapped Liang Tao’s hand, producing a cry of pain.
“Fly—mama—”
They played again. Both showed fists, and their greasy lips pretended to kiss.
Li Yu blushed slightly and turned his head away.
Just as the barbecue was served, someone in front shouted that Tang Zhong was fighting again.
The three exchanged glances.
“Is this a joke?” Hua Ming wondered.
“Is Old Two really that fierce? He just took down a whole bunch, and everyone’s discussing his heroics—what’s going on?” Liang Tao asked.
Li Yu had already stood up and ran toward the crowd.
The other two quickly stood and were about to help, when the barbecue vendor shouted after them, “Students, your bill, your bill!”
Liang Tao slapped a hundred yuan on the table, shouting, “Grill the lamb! We’ll come back for drinks after the fight.”
At first, they were skeptical. They knew Tang Zhong was a low-profile guy who didn’t like trouble—or at least, that’s how they saw him. Having just fought, why would he get into another one?
But as they ran over from afar, they immediately spotted Su Shan—and knew the fight was real.
What’s the meaning of “disaster caused by beauty”? Wherever there’s beauty, there’s bound to be trouble.
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“Boss, grab something!” Liang Tao shouted, running back to pick up half a brick and clutch it in his hand.
Hua Ming couldn’t find a handy weapon and said angrily, “Let them taste Grandpa Hua’s iron fist.”
Li Yu didn’t even look for a weapon; he knew he was only there to cheer.
“Stop!” Liang Tao shouted loudly.
Hua Ming wanted to shout something imposing, but when he saw who stood opposite Tang Zhong, he froze, almost tripping.
He hesitated briefly but rushed toward the scene.
“Wei Feng, the fight isn’t over yet, is it?” You Mu laughed. “No one wants to give up this spectacle—it’s just too thrilling.”
“Again,” Wei Feng gritted his teeth. He felt his shins trembling, but knew that if he fought for real, the symptoms would disappear.
“I’ll see it through,” Tang Zhong replied coldly.
He liked what Su Shan had said: “I am Su Shan. Whoever touches me must pay the price.”
“I am Tang Zhong. Whoever touches me must pay the price.”
Just as they were about to start again, a familiar voice called out, “Old Two, Wei Feng—stop!”
Tang Zhong and Wei Feng looked over and saw Hua Ming’s massive figure running toward them.
“Friends—all friends,” Hua Ming shouted as he ran up to Wei Feng. “What are you doing here?”
“Qian Ming?” Wei Feng smiled, surprised to meet Hua Ming at the gates of Southern University. “What are you doing here? Oh, I remember—my father mentioned you study here. Psychology, right?”
“Yes. I called Uncle Wei and asked for his help.” Hua Ming smiled. His uncle and Wei Liucheng were old friends. When Wei Feng visited Yanjing, Hua Ming always played host. So they were friends.
He pointed at Tang Zhong. “Why are you fighting our Old Two?”
“Your Old Two?” Wei Feng asked, puzzled.
“Yeah, Old Two from our dorm. My good brother,” Hua Ming replied.
Wei Feng’s expression turned odd. He glanced at You Mu, then smiled, “Qian Ming, you’d better stay out of this. Wait a bit; after the fight we’ll go have a drink somewhere.”
“Drink my ass!” Hua Ming retorted angrily. “I told you he’s my Old Two and you still want to fight him? My brother fighting my brother? How am I supposed to handle that? Whatever it is, it’s settled. Come on, let’s go drink. The lamb’s grilled, the beer’s ready, just waiting for us.”
“Wei Feng, your friend?” You Mu asked with a smile.
Even Su Shan and Lu Juntuo looked at Hua Ming in confusion. None of them expected that Tang Zhong’s dorm leader would know Wei Feng, who was always at You Mu’s side.
This spectacle was getting ever more lively.
“Yes, my friend,” Wei Feng replied with a smile.
“Oh,” You Mu nodded. “I said I’d break his leg—if he comes out with both legs intact, haven’t I slapped myself in the face?”
“How could we let Young Master You slap himself?” Wei Feng said with a sinister smile.
He turned to Hua Ming. “Qian Ming, stay out of this. Some people aren’t worthy of being your brothers.”
“You’re right about that,” Hua Ming retorted, puffing out his chest. “Some people aren’t worthy of being my brothers. So I’m definitely getting involved.”
He patted his chest. “I know you can fight. Come at me, right here.”
(P.S.: Second update. Let me explain—I have no backlog at all. Every chapter is posted as soon as it’s written.)