Chapter 118: Make Up Any Numbers You Like, Just Don’t Turn My Son In

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While peace and tranquility reigned here, Bian Yang’s circle of friends had already exploded.

The boy, who had never shown the slightest tenderness toward women and had always seemed utterly uninterested in girls, had suddenly and quite openly announced that he had a girlfriend. The shock it caused was easy to imagine.

Comments poured in beneath the post:

[Bian, what kind of joke is this? It isn’t April Fool’s Day.]

[Weren’t you overseas, Bian? Is she a foreign girl? Which country is she from?]

[No wonder Bian never showed any interest in the girls at school who threw themselves at him. Turns out he’s into exotic types.]

[When are you coming back to the country, Bian?]

[Are you all blind? Didn’t you see that the movie ticket says Liangcheng Ringstar Film City?]

[Huh? Where’s Liangcheng? I’ve never heard of it. Is there such a place overseas?]

[Holy shit!]

There were more than thirty comments in all, yet the person in question replied to none of them.

Qin Mingyu gnawed at his fingertip as he scrolled down through his phone. In the end, he enlarged the photograph again and again, as though searching for some hidden clue.

From the difference in height between the two shadows on the ground, he was almost certain that the girl was Tang Yu.

And today happened to be June eighth.

The very day the national college entrance examination ended—and Bian Yang had already been unable to wait any longer before making his move...

Qin Mingyu was not surprised. That was simply Bian Yang’s nature.

Whether it was something he wanted or someone he liked, he always acted swiftly and decisively.

He opened Bian Yang’s messaging window and carefully composed a congratulatory message. Just as he was about to send it, a call came through.

After hesitating for a moment, he swiped to answer.

“Uncle Bian...”

—

At around three in the morning, violent pounding echoed through the apartment door.

Curled beneath the covers, Tang Yu heard rustling from the room next door. Bian Yang threw off his blanket and got out of bed.

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Tang Yu sat up and looked over through the haze.

“What’s wrong?”

She was still drowsy, her voice soft and sweet.

Afraid the light would hurt her eyes, Bian Yang did not turn on the bedside lamp.

“I’m going out to take a look. Go back to sleep.”

Through the blurred panes of the gridded glass, she watched Bian Yang leave the bedroom.

Sleepily, Tang Yu sank back down, clutching her pillow as her long black hair spilled across the bed.

Then a burst of commotion rose from outside. It sounded as though a great many people had crowded in, their footsteps chaotic and heavy.

A stern, furious roar followed, jolting her fully awake.

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“Take him away!”

The instant Bian Yang opened the door, five or six bodyguards surged into the room.

Standing outside was Bian Cheng, the leader among them. In the dim light, his features were hard and sharply defined.

He had thought that once he cut off Bian Yang’s financial support, the little bastard would not last long before crawling back to the Imperial Capital.

Yet two months had passed. Not only had Bian Yang failed to return, Bian Cheng had instead learned from someone else that the boy had taken the national college entrance examination—and even started dating.

After sending people to investigate, he discovered that Bian Yang had a private cryptocurrency-trading account overseas containing assets worth nearly nine figures. No wonder the boy had not cared about the pittance he had been given.

Bian Yang stood motionless, sweeping his gaze over the men Bian Cheng had brought with him. A scornful laugh escaped his throat.

“Let’s see who dares.”

At once, the five bodyguards froze where they stood and turned toward Bian Cheng for instructions.

After all, Bian Yang had studied combat sports. If they held back, they might not be able to subdue him; if they used too much force, they risked injuring him.

With a dark expression, Bian Cheng strode into the apartment. The already cramped space seemed to shrink even further beneath his presence.

He glared at his rebellious son, his oppressive aura filling the room.

“You little bastard, if you weren’t my son, do you think I’d give a damn about you? Consider these three months a vacation from me. I’ll let you fool around for three months, but my son cannot waste his whole life. Don’t force me to get violent in a city this peaceful. You have half an hour to pack your things. Otherwise, the one I’ll be packing up is you...”

As soon as his voice fell silent, the bedroom door creaked open a narrow gap.

A young girl stepped out, rubbing her eyes. She wore a pale yellow nightdress.

For a moment, every gaze in the room fell upon her.

Her skin was so fair that she seemed to glow in the night. Her hair hung in disarray over her shoulders, and the sudden sight of so many strangers crowding into the apartment appeared to have frightened her. Her beautiful face was blank with bewilderment.

His son had found himself a girlfriend and posted her to his circle of friends, yet Bian Cheng—the boy’s own father—had been blocked. He had heard about it from someone else, called Qin Mingyu to confirm the news, and then rushed all the way from the Imperial Capital through the night to drag his son back.

This was Bian Cheng’s first time seeing Tang Yu, and only one thought occupied his mind.

This girl couldn’t possibly be an adult, could she?

She wasn’t even an adult, and she was living in the same room as his son? That little bastard was practically committing a crime!

Bian Cheng clenched his fist so tightly that his knuckles creaked, then swung it forward.

Bian Yang’s face was knocked sharply to the side without warning, and he staggered backward. Without thinking, Tang Yu rushed forward. Somehow finding a burst of strength, she shoved Bian Cheng away, then spread her arms protectively and stood before Bian Yang. Her bright black eyes glared at the man with wary fury.

“What are you doing? What right do you have to hit people?”

Her shocked, outraged voice echoed through the living room.

Bian Cheng staggered from the shove and fell against the bodyguard behind him. He looked at her with an indescribable expression.

The girl before him stared him down fearlessly, like a young wolf cub.

Bian Yang wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his fingertip. Once he had steadied himself, he placed a hand on Tang Yu’s shoulder and moved her behind him.

His gaze toward Bian Cheng turned icy and pitch-dark.

“Are you sick?”

Bian Cheng looked furious.

“You little bastard, who are you calling sick? Just look at what you’ve—”

His eyes fell upon the innocent-looking girl. He fell silent for three seconds, then exhaled deeply.

“I thought you were merely neglecting your proper work. I’ve never interfered in your private life, but you’re only nineteen, and you’ve already gone and...”

He could not bring himself to say the rest.

In the end, Bian Cheng merely ordered the bodyguards, “Take him away.”

Tang Yu tightened her grip on Bian Yang’s clothes.

Bian Yang clasped her hand in return, enclosing it in his palm. His gaze at Bian Cheng held not the slightest warmth.

“You old bastard. Try laying a hand on her.”

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“Why the hell would I touch her? I’m touching you!”

Bian Cheng was afraid that the girl’s family would discover the two of them were living together and take him to court.

She was only fourteen or fifteen, wasn’t she? Thin as a bean sprout.

How had this little bastard dared to make a move on such a young girl?

Other people’s sons were filial, obedient, and successful. His son, on the other hand, had finished tormenting his elders and moved on to preying on the young!

He never did a single thing that could be considered decent!

Bian Cheng frantically tried to reason with himself as he considered how best to handle the situation.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl lightly tug at Bian Yang’s clothes. Her gaze was timid yet wary as she watched him.

“Bian Yang, who is he?”

She could sense that the two of them had a terrible relationship, yet they also seemed intimately familiar with each other.

Moreover, he looked somewhat like Bian Yang—and even had the same accent.

Bian Yang glanced at Bian Cheng and gave a cold snort.

“Just some old bastard. Don’t mind him. There’s something wrong with his head.”

Bian Cheng exploded.

“You little bastard, who are you calling an old bastard? Is that any way to speak to your father?”

“I told you before. From now on, none of my affairs have anything to do with you.”

Bian Yang pointed toward the door. His voice was neither loud nor soft, but his tone was cold.

“Get out.”

Bian Cheng sneered.

“And what if I don’t?”

The lights were off. The only source of illumination was the moonlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Bian Cheng surveyed the apartment. Only then did he realize that this place, which was not even as large as a single bathroom in their home, was filled with traces of the girl’s life.

A panda pendant keychain hung from the shoe cabinet. Beneath it sat two pairs of white sneakers, vastly different in size. White dresses hung drying on the balcony, and paper cranes were stacked on the coffee table in the living room.

At last, his gaze returned to the girl his son was shielding, and he studied her almost imperceptibly.

Her almond-shaped eyes were pure, glistening in the darkness. Her frame was thin as a sheet of paper—she probably weighed less than a quarter of any one of the bodyguards. Yet she had dared to charge forward without hesitation and place herself in front of Bian Yang. She had even dared to push him.

Just look at what this little bastard had talked her into becoming.

After so many years immersed in the world of power and wealth, Bian Cheng had seen every kind of person. Intelligence and scheming could be faked, but innocence and purity could not. Even if someone could imitate the words and gestures, their eyes would always betray the soul.

Yet the purer the girl seemed, the more guilty he felt on her behalf.

Bian Cheng wavered repeatedly on the edge of morality.

At last, he struggled for two full minutes over whether to send the little bastard abroad or have him locked behind bars.

Then he let out a long breath, took a check from his wallet, and held it out to Tang Yu.

“Write in any amount you like. Please... don’t report my son.”

Bian Yang: “...”

Tang Yu: “...”