Chapter 31: I Thought It Was Eight Million

The third brother looked extremely odd, his face clouded as he said, “Speak!”
Yang Fan steadied himself, pointed at Qian Xue’er, and asked, “Do you know who she is?”
They all shook their heads.
“Seriously? Then you’re really out of your depth. Qian Xue’er is the heiress of the Qian Group!”
At once, the third brother’s face was filled with terror, and Bai Boyuan’s eyes widened in shock.
“And him, Liu Haoyu—you can’t tell me you’ve never heard of ‘Seasons of Praise’? That’s the Liu family business. Liu Haoyu is their only son.”
The third brother’s expression changed instantly; he trembled all over. The men Liu Mingfeng kept in his nightclub were all ruthless types.
“And him—though Ye Xiao doesn’t have such a powerful background, just look at his watch. That’s worth tens of thousands at least.”
“As for me, I’m just in shabby clothes. Now, do the math: if you throw the four of us out, how much would that cost? No less than a hundred and eighty thousand, right? Don’t you think so, brother?”
Yang Fan plopped himself onto the coffee table and, to emphasize his rustic manner, took a few gulps of tea straight from the fine teapot.
At this moment, the third brother truly wished he could flee immediately—these people were not ones he could afford to offend.
“We’re leaving!” he said, and the brothers behind him were really ready to bolt.
“Wait,” Yang Fan called out, and the third brother froze on the spot, shaking with fear.
“Why are you in such a hurry to leave? I was being kind—I was trying to help you make some money.”
“Boss, we were wrong,” the third brother was nearly in tears. Offending the Liu and Qian families meant they’d be finished for sure.
“No, you’re not wrong. The three of them can’t be thrown out, but you can throw me out. I’m not worth much, but since the four of us came together, with their status shining on me, I should be worth at least a hundred thousand, right?” Yang Fan kept smiling, but to the third brother and his men, his smile was terrifying.
“How much do you think I’m worth?” Yang Fan stared at the third brother.
“Definitely more than that,” the third brother could only reply.
“Business isn’t easy, so give him a discount—just a hundred thousand! He pays a hundred thousand, and you throw me out,” Yang Fan said.
“Boss, we can’t—”
“Go collect the money. And don’t forget to give him a receipt, or if there’s trouble later, he’ll accuse you of robbery!”
Liu Haoyu and Qian Xue’er nearly burst out laughing. The third brother didn’t even try to argue—he just shot Bai Boyuan a glare, and Bai Boyuan didn’t dare move.

“What are you going to do?”
“Brother Bai, sorry! Pay up, a hundred thousand!”
“I’m telling you, this is robbery! I could call the police and have you arrested!”
“I told you to call the police before—like last time, when you beat up your own brother. And the time before that, when you seduced someone else’s wife and got beaten up for it. All the witnesses are right here.”
“You—” Bai Boyuan was terrified now, Zhang Yunyun cowering in a corner. It was true—all his dirty business had been handled by the third brother.
“Brother Bai, sorry!”
The safe was open. One of the third brother’s men counted the money—ninety thousand in all.
“Boss, it’s not a full hundred thousand.”
Yang Fan sneered, saying, “His clothes are worth a lot. And those pants, too!”
Without waiting for argument, the third brother’s man stepped forward and stripped him. Bai Boyuan collapsed to the ground, left only in his underwear. Ye Xiao felt a surge of satisfaction—blood feuds and the theft of a wife are, since ancient times, the hardest grudges to settle.
“Boss, is that enough?” the third brother still asked, trembling.
“That’s enough. Close the door and stand aside. I have more business with you.”
The third brother closed the door in terror. Yang Fan took another sip of tea, got up from the coffee table, and walked over to Bai Boyuan.
“Honestly, you’re pitiful enough as it is. But I have something even scarier to tell you.”
With a wave of his hand, Liu Haoyu passed him a document folder.
Yang Fan opened it, took out a few sheets, and tossed them onto Bai Boyuan.
Bai Boyuan quickly picked them up. His face changed instantly—for these were the notarized divorce agreements he had signed with his wife, clearly stating that if either party was unfaithful, they’d leave the marriage with nothing.
The other papers were evidence of his infidelity, along with deeds transferring his house and company.
“Do you know why I stripped you? To leave you with nothing!” Yang Fan sneered.
“But, I’m not without mercy,” Yang Fan added, pulling out a few work uniforms from a cupboard and tossing them at him.
“Put them on. Get out!” Ye Xiao barked, venting the frustration of the past few days in that single command.

Bai Boyuan scrambled to put on the clothes and fled, crawling out. From this day on, not even the basics of life would be guaranteed for him.
Zheng Yunyun broke down and flung herself at Ye Xiao.
“Husband, I was wrong. Please forgive me!”
Ye Xiao sighed heavily, but still pushed her away. That night, when he was about to jump, she hadn’t even come out to look at him—his heart had turned cold.
“A night as husband and wife is worth a hundred nights of kindness, and we’ve been married two years. In a few days, let’s settle the paperwork. I’ll leave you our old apartment. From now on, we owe each other nothing.”
“Husband, I—”
“Go!” Ye Xiao barked, and Zheng Yunyun also fled. Yang Fan patted Ye Xiao on the shoulder, saying, “Alright, Old Ye, you and Xue’er go. I’ll take care of things here.”
“Alright!”
Yang Fan watched sadly as Ye Xiao and Xue’er left. He shook his head—perhaps only work could help Ye Xiao forget the pain of betrayal.
“Um, boss, can we go now?” the third brother asked, voice trembling.
“How much gambling debt do you all owe?” Yang Fan asked directly.
The third brother still shook, not understanding how Yang Fan could know.
“E-eighty thousand!”
“I thought it was eight hundred thousand. For a gang leader, you’re really down and out. How can you bear to drag a bunch of promising young men down with you?”
All the young men behind the third brother lowered their heads—such promising youths, and yet this was the road they’d chosen.
“Boss, we—”
“Enough, enough. Call your creditor and have him come here now,” Yang Fan ordered. Saving wayward youths was a good deed, and besides, he was spending the scum Wang Peng’s money anyway—let it serve as his atonement.
“Well? Call!” Liu Haoyu barked.
The third brother, trembling, took out his phone, still unsure of Yang Fan’s intentions. Their creditors had been after them for days, and their lives recently had been worse than death.
When the call connected, Yang Fan took the phone and told the third brother’s creditor to come and collect his money.