Chapter Six: Ecstasy

Some people refuse to admit they’re wrong unless you shove the evidence right in their faces. Unfortunately, Dean Jin was exactly this sort—stubborn to the core. Without warning, Tang Yixue slapped a thick stack of documents against his face, while Lin Yang followed up with a punch that landed squarely on the dean’s nose. It wasn’t a hard blow, but it was enough to trigger disaster: bright red blood spurted from his nostrils, leaving him looking utterly wretched.

“Take a good look! This is all your handiwork. Still going to deny it? Playing dumb?” Tang Yixue gave him a merciless lesson in the inescapable consequences of his misdeeds.

As he glanced over the scattered documents on the floor and picked up a few sheets for a quick look, Dean Jin’s face turned ashen. “It’s over. Completely over.” That was his most honest thought at this moment. The files contained irrefutable evidence of his schemes against former rivals, as well as detailed records of his liaisons with every single one of his lovers—four in total, each accounted for without omission. How was he supposed to live with this?

Now, he was even more certain he had crossed someone unimaginably formidable. Collecting comprehensive evidence of a man’s twenty years of misdeeds within an hour—if that wasn’t terrifying, what was?

He had to admit, the people working for these two women were truly something else. Even the most outrageous details of his private life had been unearthed—it was hard to imagine what kind of people they were employing. Did they have a penchant for digging up secrets about people's personal affairs? Lin Yang shuddered involuntarily. People like that were terrifying. He resolved to be more cautious in the future—if anyone ever collected compromising photos of his private life, he’d be done for.

“I was wrong, I was wrong! I’ll never do it again!” By now, Jin Quanwen was close to tears, paying no mind to the blood streaming from his nose. He clung to their feet like an old dog, pleading desperately for mercy.

But wishes are one thing; reality is another. After the scene those shrews had made at the hospital gates, publicly dragging his name through the mud, Lin Yang would have felt he’d let himself down if he didn’t exact some measure of revenge.

One punch? That was far too lenient. And so, a new round of misfortune began. Lin Yang glanced at Jin’s belly, swollen like a pregnant woman’s, and grinned wickedly. Then he kicked, sending the two-hundred-pound dean flying like a ball. He crashed into his desk, shattering it to pieces—a testament to the terrifying force behind that kick. Even a bull would have felt it.

With a great splatter of blood arcing through the air and falling to the ground, the wretched man’s thick skin and ample flesh spared him from broken ribs, but he lay on the floor for ages, unable to get up, sobbing and sniveling like a child. In his forties, he’d never been so thoroughly humiliated, reduced to the lowest of the low.

“What... what do you want from me?” the fat dean stammered, tears streaming as he choked on his words.

“This afternoon, you’ll lead your pack of gossip-mongering reporters to Thirteen Blades Plastic Surgery Hospital and apologize in person. You wanted a commotion? Fine! I’ll grant you your wish,” Tang Yixue declared, her tone brooking no argument. She fixed him with a look that dared him to utter a word of refusal.

Now Jin Quanwen nodded furiously, having fully grasped the terror these people inspired. So long as he survived, nothing else mattered—power, status, money, none of it meant anything faced with the prospect of death.

After giving the scheming dean a thorough lesson, the three left in high spirits. Walking down the hospital’s main avenue, Zhu Yunyun—reveling in her first taste of bullying someone—chattered on and on, unable to stop. Lin Yang, listening, couldn’t help but sigh to himself: another pure soul led astray by a certain queen. What a loss for society! Yet deep down, he thought, “Guess it’s time for me to learn a few bad tricks too.”

“Are we really letting that bastard off so easily?” Tang Yixue pouted, still not satisfied.

Lin Yang shook his head helplessly. He couldn’t act as lawlessly as he had back in the family; otherwise, he’d have broken Jin’s arms and legs, leaving him half-crippled by now.

Zhu Yunyun pinched her pointed chin thoughtfully, then grinned slyly. “Well, I’ll mention it to my father over dinner. We’ll just have him removed from his post.” Suddenly, she turned to Lin Yang, suggesting with great practicality, “Or maybe I’ll ask my dad to recommend you as dean of Aihua Plastic Surgery Hospital. How about that?”

“That’s not a bad idea. Your Thirteen Blades Hospital is too small for future growth,” Tang Yixue chimed in, embellishing the proposal.

Lin Yang could only smile wryly. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the position, but right now he simply couldn’t manage it. The supply of Golden Silkworm Powder was running dangerously low and, after recent expenditures, his stock was nearly depleted. He was at his wits’ end, wondering if the person who’d last sold him those golden silkworm cocoons had managed to procure more from the rainforest.

“Haha, it’s a great suggestion, but let’s put it off for now,” Lin Yang replied with a surprisingly reasonable answer. “Everything in its own time, step by step.”

With the two women standing up for him, Lin Yang expressed his gratitude with some of the most clichéd words imaginable, and, as expected, invited them out to lunch. By the time they left the gates of Aihua Plastic Surgery Hospital, it was already a quarter past twelve. He proposed a meal, and the others readily agreed.

Meanwhile, Jin Quanwen finally accepted his fate. Given the backgrounds of the two women, even the daughter of the city party secretary was beyond his reach. He quickly wiped away the blood from his nose and mouth and set about arranging his formal apology at Thirteen Blades Hospital.

With two beauties at his table, Lin Yang was generous to a fault—the three of them spent a five-figure sum on the meal, indulging in luxury and extravagance. They lingered for four hours, so much so that they missed Jin’s public apology with a cadre of reporters—a major event that cost the fat man a great deal of face.

The power of the media was indeed formidable. Within an hour, news of Jin Quanwen, the esteemed dean of Aihua Plastic Surgery Hospital, personally going to Thirteen Blades Hospital to apologize, swept across most of Jinhai City like a gale. The three who had orchestrated it all, however, were still busy savoring their feast.

After the meal, with time to spare, Zhu Yunyun—ever the diva—suggested karaoke. Tang Yixue, energized, agreed enthusiastically, and Lin Yang suspected that if she had four hands, she’d have raised them all in favor.

Minority deferred to majority, and Lin Yang had no intention of refusing—after all, with two beautiful women for company, whatever they did was a delight. Only a fool would say no.

Zhu Yunyun indeed had a remarkable voice, easily the equal of any so-called superstar in the entertainment world. Not to be outdone, the competitive Tang Yixue sang with all her might, and soon the private room turned into a battlefield where the two women vied for victory, growing more exuberant with each song.

Thus, the room presented a striking contrast: up front, two women waged a musical war, while at the back, a solitary man blew smoke rings in boredom.

“Xiao Yang, why don’t you sing something?” After finishing a song and quenching her thirst with fruit juice, Zhu Yunyun turned to Lin Yang, puzzled by his silence.

At her words, Tang Yixue also put down her microphone and looked at him expectantly.

Lin Yang was speechless. Inwardly, he grumbled, “Really? There are only two microphones and you’ve hogged them both. How am I supposed to sing?” Outwardly, he made all sorts of excuses—saying he had a sore throat, was feeling under the weather, that others charged for singing while his was worth a fortune.

But their enthusiasm left him no choice. Practically forced onto the stage, Lin Yang let out a heartfelt performance, his voice so moving it left both women wide-eyed and stunned—clearly, this man had been hiding his talents, playing the fool all along.

It was strange—having resisted at first, Lin Yang soon got carried away, monopolizing the microphone for several songs in a row. He even sang a few duets with his future wife, the beautiful Tang, filling the room with romance and leaving Zhu Yunyun quietly envious, lamenting the woes of single girls everywhere.

Originally, she’d counted herself among the women, thinking, “I’m still a virgin,” and shamelessly classed herself as a girl.

After two busy months, this was a rare opportunity for Lin Yang to truly let loose. They sang until 10:30 at night, and only when they were exhausted did they finally leave the KTV, reluctant to end the evening.

Outside, the group parted ways. Zhu Yunyun was whisked home by her ever-suffering chauffeur, while Lin Yang and Tang Yixue shared a ride.

Maybe it was fatigue from singing, but the car ride was unusually quiet. Only when Lin Yang pulled up to her house did Tang Yixue murmur a gentle good night.

Tang Yixue’s Mercedes was a marvel—speed, handling, and comfort were all top-notch. Still, by the time Lin Yang reached home, it was well past eleven-thirty. Just as he was about to unlock his door, his phone rang.

He frowned, puzzled as to who would be calling at this hour. The caller ID displayed an unfamiliar number, piquing his curiosity. On answering, he was greeted by a voice choked with sobs.

“Brother Yang, I just escaped from home. I’m at Jinhai Railway Station. Can you come get me?”

“Nini?” Hearing the familiar voice on the other end, Lin Yang couldn’t help but ask.