Chapter Fifty-Two: No Appetite

Xu Fei drank three shots of liquor.

Du Man saved him half a bowl of rice, but Xu Fei had no appetite. He gave it to Xu Yun. Today, Xu Yun was the one who ate heartily. Earlier, Du Man had packed up the leftover dishes in a lunch box.

Xu Fei stood up to settle the bill.

“Five yuan.”

Li Xiaohua saw him coming, smiled, and stood to hand him the bill.

Xu Fei glanced at it and was about to take out his money.

“Xu Fei, pay for mine as well, will you?”

At that moment, Zhang Dajun, chewing a toothpick, walked over.

“Why?”

“What do you think?” Zhang Dajun’s face darkened. “Don’t forget who gave you those jobs.”

Xu Fei wouldn’t have been angry if he hadn’t brought it up—old Liu had already told him privately that he was doing the hardest, best-paying work in the workshop.

“Zhang Dajun, you’re telling me this? Fine, let me ask you—everyone else gets fifteen cents per item, why do I only get five?”

Zhang Dajun was stunned by the question.

“Fifteen cents? Who said that?”

“Hmph, doesn’t matter who said it. Do you really think I don’t know what’s going on?”

Seeing the issue laid bare, Zhang Dajun simply dropped all pretenses. “Alright, Xu Fei, you don’t know what’s good for you. Listen to me: from today on, you’ll earn even those five cents, you believe it?”

Xu Fei nodded. “That’s just as well. I won’t earn money like that.”

Furious, Zhang Dajun pointed at Xu Fei. “Just you wait!”

His two friends behind him began jeering at Xu Fei. “Who do you think you are, talking to Dajun like that? Dajun, are you going to let this kid get away with it?”

Zhang Dajun glanced at his friends. Not let it go? If it were before, Zhang Dajun wouldn’t have tolerated Xu Fei. But ever since Peng Yu had challenged Xu Fei to a fight and Xu Fei showed up to work the next day unscathed, Zhang Dajun had started to reassess him.

“Who’s letting it go? I just don’t want to stoop to his level.”

“Dajun, teach him a lesson!”

“Beat him up!”

Zhang Dajun was getting embarrassed. Among his friends, he was a big figure around here.

“Xu Fei!”

Zhang Dajun stepped forward, grabbed Xu Fei by the collar. “Are you pretending? What’s the big deal about paying my bill?”

Seeing Xu Fei grabbed by the collar, Du Man, Xu Qing, and Xu Yun hurried over.

“What are you doing?”

“Let go of my brother!”

With the two women stepping up, Zhang Dajun sneered at Xu Fei. “Is this all you’ve got? Letting women stand up for you—what kind of man are you?”

Xu Fei, grabbed by the collar, wasn’t angry. He was actually happy that Du Man would come to his defense and at Xu Qing’s call of “brother.”

“Brother, let go of my brother.”

Xu Yun, being young, grabbed Zhang Dajun’s arm, but standing only as tall as Zhang Dajun’s armpit, he was easily pushed aside with a sweep of Zhang Dajun’s hand.

“Ah!”

Xu Yun cried out in pain.

“What happened?!”

Xu Qing glanced at Xu Yun, who had fallen to the ground, clutching his head and crying out in pain.

Xu Fei, who hadn’t wanted to cause trouble, felt his anger flare at seeing his little brother hurt.

He swung a punch.

It landed squarely on Zhang Dajun’s nose.

“Damn!”

Zhang Dajun staggered back, clutching his face, his hands now covered in blood.

“My nose, my nose!”

His two friends hurried forward to support him.

“Dajun, are you okay?”

“My nose…”

He took his hand away; his friends looked and were stunned.

“What is it? Is it my nose?”

Zhang Dajun’s voice had changed from the pain.

One friend nodded, “Dajun, your nose looks broken.”

“Damn, Xu Fei, you—you’re something. Call the police, don’t let him leave!”

Zhang Dajun, holding his nose, told one friend to call the police and the other to keep Xu Fei from running.

Xu Fei hadn’t expected that punch to break his nose. He and Zhang Dajun had fought before—Dajun was burly and not so easy to hit.

The commotion drew attention.

Li Lao Si, busy in the kitchen, came out.

“What’s going on, Xu Fei?”

He walked over, saw Xu Yun lying on the ground and Zhang Dajun’s face covered in blood.

“Fourth Brother, he—he pushed my little brother, so I punched him, and…”

Li Lao Si, the owner of the restaurant, checked on Xu Yun—a bump on his head, but nothing serious. He then looked at Zhang Dajun.

Broken nose.

This was not a small matter.

“Xu Fei, don’t leave. We’ve called the police. When the officers arrive, let them sort it out.”

Now, even if Xu Fei wanted to leave, neither Zhang Dajun nor Li Lao Si would let him.

“Hua, get a chair for Dajun to sit.”

Li Lao Si called out.

“Sitting? I should go to the hospital.”

“Dajun, it’s just your nose. The hospital can fix it later.”

“Is it… really nothing?”

Li Lao Si stepped forward. “Even if it’s something, wait for the police to come. Otherwise, how will it get settled?”

Zhang Dajun thought it over. “Right, I’ll bear it…”

He grimaced; only he knew the pain.

Li Lao Si brought some wrapping paper for him to press to his nose.

The police station wasn’t far.

Soon, accompanied by the ringing of a bicycle bell, Fu Hai walked in. He was the neighborhood officer.

“What happened?”

Fu Hai entered, saw Zhang Dajun, and his face darkened. “You again?”

“Brother Hai, I really didn’t cause trouble today—it was Xu Fei who hit me.”

“Xu Fei?”

Fu Hai looked at Xu Fei, who was tending to his brother Xu Yun.

“Brother Hai.”

Xu Fei knew Fu Hai; Fu Hai’s younger brother, Fu Chun, had been Xu Fei’s best friend at school, so Xu Fei had often visited their home.

“Fei, you hit him?”

Xu Fei nodded.

“Old Hai.”

Li Lao Si came up smiling; he and Fu Hai had grown up together in the neighborhood, so he could call him “Old Hai.” Only close friends could do so—after all, Fu Hai was now a patrol officer.

“Old Si, what’s going on?”

Li Lao Si hadn’t been present but had already heard the story from Li Xiaohua. He relayed the whole incident.

“Zhang Dajun, aren’t you bullying people?”

Fu Hai glared at Zhang Dajun.

“Brother Hai, I was the one hit—how am I the bully?”

“But you pushed my little brother!”

Xu Qing stepped forward, refusing to back down.

“I—he grabbed me first. How was I to know he wasn’t about to help Xu Fei hit me? It was self-defense, you know?”

“Then my brother’s self-defense too.”

“Nonsense, you—”

“Enough!”

Fu Hai raised his hand to stop Zhang Dajun.

“No more arguing. Come with me back to the station and we’ll sort it out there.”