Chapter 77: Can’t There Be a Little More Love Between People?

Where was the self-assuredness of the so-called kingpin of the underworld? How had he gone from that to being considered not even worth a fart in the very next breath? Zhuo Yihu nearly wrenched his back from Qin Chuan’s sudden reversal. The earlier words had been comforting enough, but that last line turned everything upside down.

“Sir, your criticism is well taken. I admit my choice of words was poor, but I honestly can’t think of anything more accurate,” Zhuo Yihu protested, feeling wronged. For someone who never finished grade school, a limited vocabulary was perfectly normal, wasn’t it? Expecting a roughneck like him—who made his way in the world with a single expletive—to turn eloquent was simply making things hard for Fat Tiger.

Qin Chuan, however, had a certain admiration for a streetwise boss like Zhuo Yihu, who knew when to bend and when to endure. The craftier these old hands were, the more they understood the true art of survival.

“Are you two all right?” Qin Chuan turned to the Lan sisters. How he would deal with Zhuo Yihu depended on how badly they’d been mistreated. Seeing the two women’s clothes intact, he let out a small sigh of relief.

Lan Jin shook her head to indicate she was fine, but Lan Xin, with a pitiful look, wailed, “Brother-in-law, your little sister-in-law was almost taken advantage of by this scumbag! Just look at my pants—torn to shreds by them! Luckily, my sister arrived in time, or the consequences would be unthinkable. So today’s matter absolutely cannot be let go so easily.”

Zhuo Yihu’s face twitched violently at the sight of those tattered jeans. Which moron had invented this ridiculous fashion trend? Yet the blame landed squarely on his own head, and he dared not defend himself, fearing that a single misstep might anger the deadly Qin Chuan.

Now Qin Chuan took a closer look at Lan Xin. With her nonconformist style and bold floral tattoo, she looked, standing next to the honest-faced Zhuo Yihu, rather more like the thug herself. Her makeup was heavy, but it was clear she had fine features—perhaps not quite as striking as her elder sister, but not far off; the only shortcoming, perhaps, was her chest.

Lan Jin was all curves and softness, while Lan Xin, from any angle, was flat as a board—the so-called “airstrip.” Still, whatever the jokes, teasing the little sister-in-law was out of bounds. Lan Xin might have exaggerated, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what could have happened if he hadn’t arrived in time.

“Wait… why am I slipping so naturally into the role of brother-in-law? Certain titles really do stir up strange emotions,” Qin Chuan thought, hastily banishing any improper ideas from his mind.

“How do you intend to deal with them?” Qin Chuan countered.

Zhuo Yihu immediately focused all his attention on Lan Xin, knowing his fate now rested entirely in this unconventional woman’s hands.

Still, he felt a measure of relief. At least he hadn’t laid a finger on Lan Xin. At most, he’d been an accomplice—a peripheral one at that. Surely the punishment wouldn’t be too severe?

But the next moment, he heard Lan Xin’s cold voice declare, “Accomplices and masterminds should be punished alike. Why not just cut off the source of their evil, so they can never harm another girl? Brother-in-law, what do you think?”

She mimed a snipping gesture with her fingers, making a “snip-snip” sound with her mouth, which sent cold sweat running down Zhuo Yihu’s back. He had never expected the tables to turn so quickly or so brutally. She looked cute enough, especially when she smiled and revealed her little tiger teeth, but how could she speak so venomously? Was it really necessary to threaten to make someone a eunuch at the slightest provocation?

“Mercy, Lady Hero!” Zhuo Yihu blurted, then realized he’d misspoken—after all, if the cut was treated in time, he wouldn’t actually die. He hurried to correct himself.

“Please, Lady Hero, spare me a future generation…”

“No, I mean, Lady Hero, spare my…”

“No, no, what I mean is, please give me a chance to have descendants.”

After several attempts, Zhuo Yihu finally felt he’d gotten his meaning across. Despite his age, he had no children, a fact he attributed to his life in the underworld. He also held very traditional views—believing that the worst form of unfilial conduct was to have no heirs—so having children was something he was especially fixated on.

“As the saying goes, leave a line for future encounters. It’s not impossible for me to grant you this chance,” Lan Xin replied, a sly smile playing at her lips.

Zhuo Yihu kept silent. As an old hand, he knew the real point always came after the “but.”

Sure enough, Lan Xin continued, “But there’s still the question of how to settle this debt. Let’s talk terms.”

“I beg Lady Hero to state them clearly! I’m willing to cooperate to the fullest,” Zhuo Yihu said respectfully, hoping to present himself as a reformed man and so win the lightest penalty possible.

Lan Xin was clearly pleased with his attitude and, smiling sweetly, said, “Having a child can cost at least several billion, even tens of billions, and that’s assuming top-notch quality. Given how much you’ve indulged all these years, let’s just call it twenty billion. I’m being generous and offering you this massive project for free. At a standard five percent commission, you owe me one billion Huaxia dollars. I know you probably can’t come up with that much cash right away, so considerately, I suggest you sign over the Night’s End Bar as collateral.”

“Given the bar’s aging, depreciation, and the fact that every time I drink or dance here, I’ll think of tonight’s unpleasantness and feel irked, it’s a real bargain to write off a billion for a property worth several times that. Brother Tiger, would that be too hard on you?”

Zhuo Yihu was left utterly bewildered by her words. Everything she said seemed to make sense—and yet somehow it didn’t. Most baffling of all, how had she so confidently converted the worth of his “little tadpoles” into hard currency?

Truth be told, even Qin Chuan’s mind was buzzing from the exchange. Lan Xin’s display of twisted logic was every bit as impressive as his own.

“The Lan family does have its share of talents,” Qin Chuan mused, a note of admiration in his gaze as he looked at Lan Xin.

But this glance didn’t escape Lan Jin, who, for reasons she couldn’t explain, suddenly felt a surge of jealousy stronger than ever before.

She quickly walked up to Qin Chuan, and, almost involuntarily, whispered, “What’s this? Am I not enough as your elder sister-in-law? Still planning to take the younger as well? You’re greedy, Brother Chuan!”

“Why do you sound so sour? But then again, your suggestion is rather constructive—worth considering,” Qin Chuan teased.

Lan Jin rolled her eyes, retorting, “Constructive, my foot! If you dare mess with Lan Xin, that wild girl will squeeze you dry until there’s nothing left but bones.”

Their quiet banter only made Zhuo Yihu, already anxious, even more on edge.

“Looks like Brother Tiger values his wealth most. In that case, let’s stick with the original punishment. I really don’t mind either way,” Lan Xin suddenly announced when Zhuo Yihu remained silent.

Qin Chuan picked up the thread. “Lan Xin, must you be so ruthless? Couldn’t there be a little more love between people?”

“What do you mean by that, brother-in-law?” Lan Xin frowned, a trace of displeasure crossing her face—she couldn’t understand why Qin Chuan seemed to be taking Zhuo Yihu’s side.

Zhuo Yihu, meanwhile, shot Qin Chuan a look full of gratitude—a truly good man!

Qin Chuan sighed and explained, “A physical castration is a bloody affair. I know an acupuncture technique that can achieve the same effect as a chemical castration, and the one punished won’t have to endure quite so much pain. Isn’t that a more humane approach?”