"Hoo."
Kyoto Hotel.
Zhong Xiaoye stood by the window, the sunlight casting layers across his face, one side bright, the other dark.
The cigar between his fingers burned slowly.
"Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong..."
The doorbell rang.
The bodyguard inside opened the door, and Little Brother Xiao walked in, still not fully recovered, moving slowly.
"Big brother."
Reaching behind Zhong Xiaoye, he bowed his head deeply, adopting an attitude of bearing the rod to make ands.
"How’s your body?"
"I’m fine, just embarrassed you, big brother."
Little Brother Xiao didn’t dare to look up.
Zhong Xiaoye faced Chang’an Street, smoking his cigar at a leisurely pace.
"It’s not your fault."
As the big brother, one must distinguish right from wrong, reward and punish fairly; it’s not right to vent anger on a subordinate when things go awry, or else who would still follow you?
Was Little Brother Xiao at fault?
At most, he just tried to push soone first, which was a bit impolite.
Or perhaps.
He was too incompetent, knocked down in one move?
You can’t calculate the account like that.
Whether soone is useless depends on who the opponent is.
If it’s so nobody, getting beaten up is indeed shaful, but losing to Boxing King Tyson, isn’t it naturally glorious even in defeat?
"Big brother, I..."
Feeling overwheld with guilt, Little Brother Xiao suddenly knelt, half out of gratitude, half perhaps for show.
The big brother can see through everything, signifying great wisdom, and as a subordinate, one must show sothing.
Zhong Xiaoye continued smoking, knowing Little Brother Xiao had knelt, but didn’t let him stand imdiately.
"Do you know who that woman is?"
"I know!"
Little Brother Xiao, having lain in bed all day, gritted his teeth, "Hu Die!"
Although in great pain at the ti, those two words were engraved in his mind, never to be forgotten.
"I an, her background."
"..."
Little Brother Xiao’s face twisted, yet a hint of embarrassnt surfaced, the epito of impotent rage.
The na was unforgettable.
But what good is rembering a na!
He knelt silently.
"I found out that woman’s background."
Upon hearing, Little Brother Xiao looked up suddenly, "Big brother!"
Zhong Xiaoye’s expression was indifferent, taking a puff of his cigar, gazing at the magnificent yet quiet Shen Zhou First Street.
"It turns out, coincidentally, she works for Fang Jun."
How realistic indeed.
When refused a eting, he called her by na imdiately.
"Fang Family?"
Little Brother Xiao was surprised, then realized, his ruthlessness persisting, "No wonder!"
Zhong Xiaoye exhaled smoke with an imposing aura.
Indeed worthy of being the king of the Haojiang Hall, even when blocked, he could efficiently find out the rival’s background with so divine skills, but not enough abundance.
As the saying goes.
Behind every strong woman, there are often not just one man.
But one can’t be too harsh on Zhong Tingwang, as this wasn’t his turf, and Hu Die lived in shadows after all, discovering this much wasn’t easy.
"What do you think should be done?"
As a big brother, when a subordinate is wronged, it’s natural to ask the subordinate’s opinion, but Little Brother Xiao dared not speak wildly at this juncture.
Even though he wanted to dice that bitch to pieces! Ravage before killing! But the word Fang Family weighed on him like a mountain.
Though Fang’s old man had passed, the Fang Family remained a top-tier sect, not to be challenged by the unworthy.
"Big brother, it’s actually just a misunderstanding, let it go."
The big brother respects the subordinate, and the subordinate must empathize with the big brother too.
Little Brother Xiao assessed the situation, choosing to endure humiliation and bear burdens, volunteering in the main role, giving the big brother a perfect out, but Zhong Tingwang didn’t seem inclined to accept his sincere gesture.
Hitting a dog is in reality hitting its owner.
This isn’t so profound principle.
Though Little Brother Xiao was beaten, it was Zhong Xiaoye’s face being thrown on the ground.
Coupled with the previous snub by Fang Jun, new hatreds mixed with old grievances, Zhong Xiaoye raised his hand, the cigar between his fingers burning even more intensely.
Each one nearly a hundred US Dollars, it wasn’t the money burning, but bills.
"Do you think it should be let go?"
At this, kneeling Little Brother Xiao was initially stunned, looking incredulously at his big brother’s back, followed by an irrepressible excitent in his eyes.
As a confidant, he of course understood the aning behind his big brother’s words, how could he not want revenge, to wash away the disgrace, but
—one must not sweat the small stuff to accomplish great things.
"Big brother, I’m all right now, getting into a tiff with the Fang Family over this little matter...not worth it."
Look there.
Erging as a confidant among thousands isn’t for no reason, hear how eloquently he speaks, elevating Zhong Xiaoye to the high ground of confronting nobility for a subordinate.
In truth, there’s no need for him to say so.
To confront a sect like the Fang Family head-on for a subordinate is obviously not worth it, but did Zhong Xiaoye do it for others?
Fang Jun’s disdain.
His subordinate openly beaten.
Plus being blocked on the phone.
All pieces igniting a fire within.
In the pri of life, riding high.
No matter how shrewd a person is, when everything goes smoothly, their tolerance for setbacks plumts; it’s human nature.
When one considers oneself a dog, others treating you as one is fine, but once you’re at the table, yet soone still treats you like a dog, then that’s intolerable.
Of course.
Whether one has truly evolved to dining at the table or not, there’s no need to fuss over.
In this world, there are no facts, only perceptions.
It doesn’t matter what you think, it’s what I think.
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