Chapter Fifteen: Unexpected Complications

At this moment, the behavior of the Japanese in the northeast of our country was clearly becoming reckless. Turning to Baozi, he glared fiercely. “You filthy pig, who did you just call a beast?”

Baozi curled his lips, a cold smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do beasts answer to?”

The Japanese man instinctively replied, “My name is Yuichi Suzuki.” As soon as the words left his mouth, laughter erupted throughout the restaurant.

Yuichi Suzuki suddenly realized he had been insulted by Baozi and shouted angrily, “Idiot!” Drawing the samurai sword from his waist, he swung it at Baozi.

Baozi, having trained for some time, reacted faster than ordinary people. Seeing the blade coming, he dodged aside, and the samurai sword struck the table instead. As Suzuki attempted to pull the blade out for another swing, Baozi gave him no chance. He stepped firmly on the table, pinning the samurai sword under his foot.

Suzuki tried twice to yank the sword free but failed. Just as he was about to abandon it and fight with his fists, Baozi landed a punch squarely on Suzuki’s nose. A faint crack could be heard—it was clear this blow had broken Suzuki’s nose.

Suzuki clutched his bleeding nose, blood streaming between his fingers, obviously badly hurt. Fury blazing, he lunged at Baozi again.

Another Japanese man watched coldly from the side, unconcerned about Suzuki’s injuries. By now, Baozi had Suzuki pinned beneath him, raining blows left and right onto his face. Each punch landed with a thud, but Suzuki, stubborn as ever, refused to cry out in pain. Yet silence didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Many restaurant patrons winced at the sight, but couldn’t help cheering Baozi on.

“This is enough, friend. He has paid for his actions. If you continue to beat him like this, it will be an insult to the samurai of the Empire of Japan. I will not stand idly by.” The other Japanese man spoke in clumsy Mandarin.

At this, the restaurant owner hurried forward, pulling Baozi up and pleading, “Young master, please stop. If you keep hitting him, someone might die.” The proprietor was timid and servile, likely worn down by years of business, his spirit all but lost.

Baozi paused, rubbing his knuckles. “And what is your name, beast?” he asked the other Japanese.

This man was clearly much smarter than Suzuki. He replied, “Friend, it is impolite to ask someone’s name in such a manner. My name is Naokawa Yuzhi. May I ask for your esteemed surname, so that I might visit you in the future?” The implication was clear: this debt would be settled another day.

——

Zhou Yi tugged at Baozi’s sleeve, signaling him not to reveal his name and invite trouble. But Baozi ignored him, replying, “What’s there to fear from a Japanese dwarf? Remember my name well—I am Ni Yuanchao.”

By this time Suzuki had gotten up. Seeing Baozi and Zhou Yi with their backs turned, he snatched up the samurai sword from the table and struck down at Baozi.

Zhou Yi felt a cold wind at his back and, without thinking, pushed Baozi aside and dodged himself. Suzuki’s blade missed. Zhou Yi then grabbed Suzuki’s wrist, squeezing tightly. Suzuki dropped his sword once more. Zhou Yi let out a cold, icy snort. “Are all you Japanese sneak attackers?”

After Zhou Yi spoke, Naokawa Yuzhi stepped forward and slapped Suzuki across the face, shouting, “Idiot! You’ve disgraced the samurai of our Empire.” He then turned to Baozi. “Mr. Ni, I apologize on Suzuki’s behalf for today’s incident.” With that, he bowed to Baozi.

Baozi said nothing, and Naokawa Yuzhi didn’t mind. He took two silver dollars from his pocket and handed them to the waiter, bowing again. “Sorry, brother waiter. Please accept this as compensation.”

The waiter timidly accepted the coins, bowing and thanking Naokawa repeatedly, seemingly forgetting Suzuki had just beaten him.

Watching this, Zhou Yi’s brow furrowed once more. Two silver dollars made the waiter so grateful to the Japanese, forgetting the violence he had just endured.

Naokawa turned to Zhou Yi. “This is a small token from me; I hope we can become friends.” He produced a banknote and handed it to Zhou Yi with both hands. The note was for five hundred silver dollars—a sum that could buy a house and land, ensuring a lifetime of comfort.

Imagine, Zhou Yi spent thirty silver dollars for his wedding and was considered extravagant.

Zhou Yi narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold smile on his lips. “Mr. Naokawa, I do not lack money. Thank you for your generosity.” His refusal drew gasps from the restaurant patrons; five hundred silver dollars was a tremendous temptation for them.

Baozi clicked his tongue at the banknote, hinting that Zhou Yi was too inflexible—he should have taken the money first. Zhou Yi caught his meaning and shot Baozi a glare, earning a resentful look in return.

Naokawa took no offense, pocketing the note and smiling faintly at Zhou Yi. “Sir, Mr. Ni, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave. I live at the Naokawa residence; I hope you both will visit when you have time.” With that, he departed with Suzuki.

——

Outside the restaurant, Suzuki turned to Naokawa and asked, “Naokawa, why didn’t you let me take my revenge?”

Naokawa was no longer as courteous as he had been inside. His teeth ground audibly. “Yuichi Suzuki, I regret bringing you to China. You are nothing but a foolish pig, good for nothing but ruining plans. Don’t forget why you came to China.” With that, Naokawa stalked off in anger.

Back inside, Zhou Yi and Baozi had become heroes in the restaurant. The proprietor brought two dishes from the kitchen as a gift, and patrons came one after another to toast them. Zhou Yi and Baozi, used to hunting in the mountains and warming themselves with strong liquor, were heavy drinkers and accepted every toast. Before long, they had downed over a dozen bowls, and even with their formidable tolerance, their heads began to spin.

Zhou Yi had to use spiritual energy to dispel the effects of the alcohol, suffering no ill effects. Baozi, however, was red-faced and tongue-tied, thoroughly drunk.

Clearly, they would not be leaving today. The proprietor, understanding the situation, had already instructed the waiter to prepare guest rooms. After lunch, Zhou Yi and Baozi retired to rest.

Zhou Yi trusted the proprietor, handing over the silver dollars and inventory list, becoming a hands-off manager.

Baozi was dead drunk, snoring soundly on the bed. Zhou Yi knew that sleeping now would only harm his body, so he sat cross-legged, clearing his mind and meditating to dissolve the effects of the alcohol.

ps: Flowers and votes, I want them all… every single one!