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墨書 Inktalez
After about ten minutes of driving, we arrived at the agreed-upon location with Hu Yao. As I got out of the car, I repeatedly reminded them not to call me Xiao Zhao anymore; they should just use my name. Although they all promised to do so, some still insisted on calling me Xiao Zhao. I decided to let it go; I couldn't control their thoughts.
I prepared to send them all home, but to my surprise, they flatly refused my suggestion. No matter how much I argued or persuaded them, they insisted on following me. With so many people behind me, anyone who saw us would likely think something terrible was about to happen.
After arguing with them for a while, I finally relented and allowed two of them to stay with me while sending the others home. Since the barbecue restaurant was located in a narrow alley, we couldn’t drive there and had to walk instead. This barbecue place was well-known in Lake City, with people lining up since the afternoon just to get in.
As I walked towards the restaurant with my two companions, someone suddenly called out to me. "Hey, kid! Want to play a game of chess?" I looked around and spotted a man crouching not far ahead, a chessboard set up in front of him. A streetlight illuminated his head, and his attire seemed completely out of place for the area. I recognized the brand of his suit; Old Zhao had a similar one that cost a fortune.
At that moment, it was just me and my two companions on the road. I pointed at myself and asked, "Are you talking to me?"
The man sneered and raised his voice slightly, saying, "Of course I'm talking to you! Who else would I be talking to? Your two lackeys behind you?"
Hearing his disrespectful tone, I wasn’t inclined to respond kindly. My day had already been frustrating enough without him trying to provoke me. Before I could say anything, my two companions quickly rushed towards the man, pulling out knives from who knows where and pointing them at him.
"Hey, old man! Think before you speak; otherwise, you'll pay for your words," one of them warned.
Just as I was about to intervene and stop their actions, the man interrupted with a sharp slap that echoed through the alley.
"Slap!"
In an instant, dozens of burly men surged forward and surrounded us three.
I froze in place. In a one-on-one situation, my experience in martial arts might give me an edge, but against such overwhelming numbers, I couldn’t afford to act recklessly.
The man slowly stood up and stretched his legs before mockingly addressing my companions, "It's been a long time since anyone dared to speak to me like that."
At that moment he stood up, my two companions' pupils dilated in shock; they panicked and dropped their knives on the ground before shouting at me, "Xiao Zhao! Run! He is—"
Before they could finish their warning, the man swiftly raised his hand and slapped the one who had been speaking directly onto the ground with such force that it was clear he meant business.
"Don't say another word; otherwise, you'll die," he warned.
I had always been well-protected by my parents; no one dared treat me this way. But what I was witnessing was truly unsettling. Did he not know who my father was? Based on what I had seen earlier, if he knew who I was, he probably wouldn’t have acted this way—unless he intended to provoke Old Zhao by using me as leverage for some ulterior motive.
Could it be that he didn’t know I was Zhao Changsheng’s son? That seemed impossible; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been waiting for me here.
After a brief moment of contemplation, I reached a conclusion: First, he knew Old Zhao; second, there might be a traitor among my companions; third, these two knew this man!
Considering the expressions and actions of the two subordinates, it was clear that the traitor could not be among them. They had taken a slap from this man to protect my safety, and I couldn't just stand there in shock; otherwise, it would tarnish Old Zhao's reputation.
I am Zhao Lun, the son of Underworld Boss Zhao Changsheng! The reputation that Old Zhao has built over the years cannot be ruined on my watch.
With that thought in mind, I wasted no time. I concentrated all my strength into my right fist, turned around, and threw a punch at the crowd behind me without hesitation.
A cry of pain immediately erupted, and the crowd behind me began to stir, yet they hesitated to retaliate against me. In that moment, my suspicions were confirmed.
I rubbed my fist and said expressionlessly to the man, "You slapped my subordinate; I’m just returning the favor with a punch. Seems fair, right?"
After a brief silence, the man suddenly burst into laughter. "Ha ha ha! You've got guts! Not bad!"
The two subordinates looked at me with expressions that were hard to describe—perhaps confusion, perhaps gratitude, or maybe they had made some kind of resolution. But at that moment, I had no idea what they were thinking. My only concern was not just to uphold Old Zhao's reputation; it was also about how he had arranged for them to be by my side as my subordinates. As their leader, I couldn't just stand by while they were being bullied—that was all there was to it.
Suddenly, the man waved his hand at me, signaling for me to come over. "Kid, are you ready to join me for a game of chess now?"
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