Chapter 20: Narrow Perspective

No one knew how much time had passed when Qin Chuan heard Lan Jin and Liu Qingcheng calling out to him from behind.

"Brother Chuan, stop already! If you keep going, someone's going to die."

"Yeah, Brother Chuan, didn't you just say physical therapy only takes three minutes? It's been five already."

"We're honest businesspeople—those extra two minutes are on the house," Qin Chuan replied, only then reluctantly stopping. In truth, he had precisely controlled his strength throughout and never endangered Zhou Yunping's life.

Liu Qingcheng and Lan Jin looked at the now-unconscious Zhou Yunping, who had passed out from the pain, and couldn't help but feel three black lines appear on their foreheads.

Truly, a man of conscience!

Well, perhaps he had some, given that the woman hadn't been beaten to death. But seeing that fat lady with a swollen face, blood streaming from every orifice, and her whole figure looking as though she'd gained two more rounds of girth, that conscience seemed a bit thin.

Liu Qingcheng, who knew nothing of medicine, quickly crouched down and checked Zhou Yunping's breathing. Only then did she allow herself a slight sigh of relief.

"Brother Chuan, even if you wanted to vent my anger, you didn't need to go this far," Liu Qingcheng said, twisting her body delicately. The mountains on her chest swayed as if in the breeze, every inch of her radiating alluring charm.

"Such affectation, how disgusting," Lan Jin shot back, sharply as ever, though she couldn't help but glance at her own chest, then at Liu Qingcheng's, her confidence taking a blow. The size of Miss Lan's assets was nothing to be ashamed of, but compared to Liu Qingcheng, she was perhaps a fifth of a cup short.

"Looks like I'll need to ask Qin Chuan for advice on supplements when I get home," Lan Jin decided inwardly.

Qin Chuan, oblivious to Lan Jin's private resolve, grinned and said, "Other men earn a beauty's smile, so why do I get such a sour face?"

Liu Qingcheng was speechless. You just beat an important client to this state—how am I supposed to smile?

Of course, watching Zhou Yunping get pummeled had been satisfying, but the problem had now multiplied a thousandfold. Especially once Zhou Yunping regained her senses, things would get even messier.

Face-changing feet? Return-my-beauty fist? Out of the question!

"Brother Chuan, can you tell me how to smooth things over?" Liu Qingcheng forced a smile.

Qin Chuan put on a grave expression. "My physical therapy is highly effective—guaranteed thirty pounds lost in a month."

Liu Qingcheng glanced around to make sure no one was secretly listening in; even the two bodyguards hadn't come inside. "Brother Chuan, Zhou Yunping's already unconscious, and there's no one else here. Can we drop the act?"

Qin Chuan waved his hand. "I'm not acting. Think about it—I've left her with minor internal injuries, so her appetite will drop sharply for a while. And for those injuries to heal, she'll have to eat light, bland food. Combine that with your weight-loss pills, and the results will be exceptional. Losing thirty pounds in the first month is the minimum—just you wait."

Liu Qingcheng and Lan Jin couldn't help but twitch at the corners of their mouths. Especially thinking back to Qin Chuan's earlier pitch to Zhou Yunping, both women shivered involuntarily.

"Brother Chuan, did you study pyramid schemes along with medicine?" Lan Jin asked curiously.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt Qin Chuan's moves were deadlier than any pick-up artist—he was a master of brainwashing, live and in person! Otherwise, how could Zhou Yunping be so obsessed with getting beaten up?

"You're thinking too small," Qin Chuan said, making a dismissive gesture with two fingers. "This is medical therapy—its technical name is cognitive restructuring. In plain terms, it's a special method of shattering a person's ingrained beliefs and giving them new ones.

"The underlying mechanism is based on conditioned reflex theory. By controlling a series of variables and employing various reinforcement methods, you exert continuous influence and control over a person's emotions, cognitions, and behaviors, molding them to the operator's will, establishing new ideas and psychological patterns."

The two women were dumbfounded by the barrage of jargon. For a fleeting moment, they actually started to believe Qin Chuan's "physical therapy" was built on scientific theory.

"Only you could make brainwashing and scamming sound so dignified," one said.

"Truly professional—I was starting to believe it myself," said the other.

Their comments were objective and sincere.

Three black lines shot up Qin Chuan's forehead.

"These two are hard to fool," he thought with some resignation.

Moments later, the sound of the lock turning came from the door. The two bodyguards entered, and when they saw Zhou Yunping lying motionless on the floor, their scalps tingled with horror.

"You brat, did you kill the mistress?"

"I'm going to slaughter you!"

They roared and moved to attack.

Qin Chuan raised a hand to pause, kindly advising, "Don't be rash. Even if you lose your temper, you won't beat me."

The two bodyguards were stunned, feeling they were being shown up again. Just as they were about to wake Qin Chuan up with their fists, they suddenly felt his hands clamp down on their shoulders, so fast they hadn't even seen him move.

But it wasn't over yet. A wave of numbness shot from their shoulders through their bodies, and in the next instant, their legs gave out—they collapsed to their knees.

"Eh? What's the meaning of this? Even if you're grateful for my treatment of your mistress, you needn't be so formal! I'm poor, I have no red envelopes to give," Qin Chuan remarked in mock astonishment.

The two bodyguards were on the verge of tears. They knew all too well that the strange turn of events was entirely Qin Chuan's doing.

To strip two men of all fighting strength without them realizing how he'd acted—using the most common phrase in fantasy novels, it was: terrifying beyond compare.

Faced with an opponent in a different league, the two bodyguards had a very clear sense of self-preservation. Their guiding principle: if you can't win, run; if you can't outrun, kneel; if kneeling doesn't work, bang your head and beg for mercy. This was the proper self-cultivation of anyone with a strong will to survive.

Especially since Zhou Yunping herself was so obsessed with "physical" (i.e. beating and kicking) therapy, there was no need to court disaster themselves.

Watching the two kowtow and beg for mercy, Qin Chuan's satisfied smile nearly overflowed. These two were quick studies.

"You know what to say when you get back to the Lu family, right?" Qin Chuan prompted.

Both bodyguards shook their heads. Their bodies were numb, their minds blank—how could they think what to tell the master of the house?

"Why don't you think a bit harder?" Qin Chuan said, flexing his fist as he spoke.

The two bodyguards trembled, forcing their minds to work. The stouter one was quicker on the uptake and replied first.

"We'll say the mistress is undergoing the most advanced weight-loss treatment, with a guarantee from the provider that there'll be significant results after a month."

"Brother Chen is right. I can get some official certificates from under the bridge—world slimming association accreditations, endorsements from eighteen top international weight-loss organizations, whatever sounds most impressive," the other chimed in, unwilling to be outdone.

Qin Chuan was astounded, giving them a big thumbs up.

Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.

These two were truly paragons of the art of sabotaging their employer—a shining example for the industry.