Chapter Eighty: Are You All So Idle?

Huang Zequn’s voice was neither too loud nor too soft, but it was delivered deliberately, so the newcomers approaching could hear him clearly. That one sentence instantly wiped the kindly smile off Deputy Director Zhao’s face, plunging him into embarrassment—it was just too biting. Yet he was well aware that this sharp-tongued Huang Zequn’s father was a star-bedecked military officer, not someone to be trifled with. Few knew if this brat had inherited his father’s iron will, but his mouth was certainly one of a kind.

That remark left Zhao Debiao unable to respond. He shot a glare at the city management officers, who, not being fools themselves, quickly retreated with their tails between their legs. As for the other hooligans, they too shuffled aside—there was nothing left for them here. With things escalating to this point, no one wanted to leave any evidence, so they all withdrew. Zhao Hai was even more decisive, waving his subordinates away; the men in black sunglasses melted into the crowd. In no time, only a handful of people remained in the area.

The leader of the later arrivals was also a stout man, not much different from Wang Zhihao, and there was a certain resemblance between the two—they must be related. This, no doubt, was Wang Ye, the county magistrate of Fengyang. The others accompanying him, judging by their demeanor, were also high-ranking, likely some of the top figures in the county and Wang Ye's confidants.

“Mr. Zhao, is there really a need to be so angry?” Wang Ye started with a broad smile, “He’s still just a child.”

“He’s not that young—over thirty, isn’t he?” Huang Zequn smirked, “Looks pretty old for his age.”

Another wave of awkwardness swept through the group.

With remarks like that, no one quite knew how to continue. Though Wang Ye wanted nothing more than to tape Huang Zequn’s mouth shut, he knew perfectly well what the consequences would be—nothing good. Glancing at Qin Yang, Wang Ye could only smile wryly to himself. Others might not have met him, but Wang Ye had seen him before. At an economic conference in Jianghai City, he’d seen the man known as the top villain of Jianghai—ruthless and arrogant, but his father’s enterprise provided livelihoods for countless families. Here in his own county, without Hailong Heavy Industries, Wang Ye couldn’t imagine what Fengyang would become. He knew his own position well enough; if he angered Hailong Group and they pulled out, his own luck would run dry.

Never mind outside pressures—even within Fengyang, the people would not consent, and most importantly, neither would the top officials. With such a golden goose in the county, he dared not risk offending the masses and driving them away.

Who says businessmen fear those in power?

Once a businessman’s industry upholds the very seat of authority, he can afford to ignore them completely.

Thinking of how his own son had provoked the two most notorious figures in Jianghai, Wang Ye wished he could give the boy a slap. How blind could he be?

“Wang Zhihao, apologize at once,” Wang Ye barked, determined to resolve things quickly. The sooner these two troublemakers were gone, the better—otherwise, things would only get more difficult.

“Impossible.” Wang Zhihao’s tone was stubborn, though regret flashed across his face as he saw Wang Ye’s fury. Yet, once the words were out, he couldn’t bring himself to apologize. This was his turf; if word got out that he’d bowed his head, how could he show his face again? Qin Ye and Qin Yao were dumbfounded too; they hadn’t expected that, even after their father arrived, the situation would remain so one-sided. And this sudden friend of their late brother—just who was he?

“‘Impossible’, is it?” Huang Zequn, growing bored of the back-and-forth, squared his shoulders. “I’ve never swallowed an insult like this. Wang Zhihao, today we’ll settle this one way or another: either I slink away, get shot by my old man, and he brings the troops to surround your house, or you show some attitude—let’s see if you can convince me to spare you.”

“You little punk, apologize now!” Wang Ye roared, thoroughly enraged.

Wang Zhihao jumped but kept his mouth shut out of sheer stubbornness. Zhao Debiao gave a helpless smile, leaning in to murmur in his ear, “Just swallow your pride and apologize. Huang Zequn is from the military; his father’s a general—he’s not someone to cross.”

“A general…”

That sent a shiver through Wang Zhihao. He’d never imagined this guy was a general’s son. He’d met a few generals before, back when he’d accompanied Wang Ye on visits to pay respects. Under the pressure of their presence, he hadn’t dared utter a word and only managed a few sentences thanks to Wang Ye’s introduction. That had become a favorite story of his in Fengyang. He remembered, too, the aura those generals’ children exuded—nothing he could ever match. Yet, looking at Huang Zequn now, nothing about him suggested a military background; he looked more like a street thug.

“What’s going on here—such a lively scene?” Suddenly, a hearty voice called out. Everyone turned to see a middle-aged man approaching, impeccably dressed in a classic suit, not a hair out of place—the very picture of a successful man. At the sight of him, Wang Ye’s face darkened, a trace of resentment and confusion in his eyes.

“Secretary Yang.”

“Uncle.”

To everyone’s surprise, as Zhao Debiao identified the man, a timid voice piped up. The crowd shuddered as Qin Wu, now the very image of a demure lady, walked to Secretary Yang’s side. The transformation was astonishing, her venomous tongue nowhere in sight. Huang Zequn couldn’t help but give her an approving thumbs-up behind his back.

“So you’re Qin Yang? I must thank you for saving my niece’s life.” Yang Xiao’s voice was stern, yet warm enough to be immediately likable. His words put Qin Yang at ease, though he asked in confusion, “Your niece? Which one?”

“It’s my sister, Yaxin,” Qin Wu quickly supplied.

“Oh, you mean her.” Enlightenment dawned on Qin Yang. No wonder Qin Wu and Yang Yaxin were so close, calling each other sisters—they really were. He extended his hand, “It was nothing, just what anyone should do.”

“Brother Wang, what happened here?” After nodding to Qin Yang, Yang Xiao turned to Wang Ye. “It’s the end of the year. I heard your eldest was making trouble—this isn’t right. If anything happens, the consequences won’t be good.”

“You’re too kind, Brother Yang,” Wang Ye replied with forced cordiality. “Just a small misunderstanding between young people. Nothing serious. You, brat, apologize at once.”

Wang Zhihao knew that if he kept resisting, he’d probably get beaten up. Though he was seething inside, he could only mumble, “Sorry.”

“To whom?” Qin Yang frowned, pulling Qin Ye forward. “Apologize to him.”

Qin Ye found the whole affair surreal; who’d have thought a minor scuffle would draw so many big shots? As he received Wang Zhihao’s apology, he felt as if he were in a dream. Observing this, Qin Yang was both annoyed and disappointed—this kid had some backbone, but still fell far short of his expectations.

“All right, all right, let’s not dwell on this,” Yang Xiao waved a hand. “Young people shouldn’t hold grudges; most things can be resolved with a conversation.”

“Wang Zhihao, listen carefully: Qin Ye is my brother,” Qin Yang said calmly. “He’ll be staying in Fengyang for half a year. After that, I’ll take him away. If I hear of even the slightest trouble, especially from you, I’ll show you what it means to wish you were dead. You can test me if you like, but you won’t be able to bear the consequences.”

Faces darkened all around.

No one had expected Qin Yang to issue such a threat in front of Wang Ye, right as things were being resolved. Wang Ye’s expression turned ashen—after all, even if you beat a dog, you must show respect to its owner, and this was his own son. Qin Yang’s words made it clear he didn’t care who was present. Even Yang Xiao gave a wry smile. Wasn’t this young man a bit too insolent? Sure, his father was a billionaire, but Wang Ye was still a county magistrate, a government official. Wasn’t this going a bit too far?

Huang Zequn frowned and, seeing Qin Ye’s uneasy look, chuckled bitterly. Wasn’t this just looking for trouble? Could Qin Yang really keep an eye on things here at all times?

“Forget it, let’s go. I have several elders to visit,” Huang Zequn said, waving his hand. “Look at these people—making a fuss over nothing. If this keeps up, I’ll have to complain to Old Han one of these days.”