Chapter 91: So Bouncy, So Soft

Following Su Xiaodong’s pointing finger, Lin Yang’s eyes brightened despite himself. They kept returning to Su Yaxue’s rounded, raised hips, lingering there with a lustful, curious hunger and a flicker of confusion: where exactly was the bruise? Had it really been on her backside? How large was it? What kind of mark could it be? If it were on her buttocks, it was one of those embarrassing spots—people could see it, and if she wore a bikini or thong or anything that showed her figure, it would be a ridiculous humiliation.

Thinking of how badly she ought to have it treated, and treated properly, Lin Yang found himself staring so long and so openly that he began to grin idiotically. His laugh was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear, and it carried far too much lewdness.

A few onlookers fixed their amused, puzzled gazes on him, as if to ask what had come over him. Why had he suddenly become so wanton?

Only after several pairs of eyes had settled on his smirking face did he reluctantly pull his attention away and look back, still wearing that shameless grin.

Lin Yang himself had no reason for alarm—at worst he would be mocked. But Su Xiaodong, who had just opened his mouth, got the real trouble. One thing he said in front of so many people was enough. Prideful Su Yaxue’s face turned cold as iron; she went rigid and pale, like someone stepping into an icy pit, ready to explode.

“Brother, are you so tight again? You want your little sister to loosen you up?” she barked. It was all ire and contempt, eyes as sharp as blades.

In his head he muttered, *What of it if he is my brother? I can still curse at him. Push him too far and I’ll show him a taste of taekwondo.*

When he had been bantering, he had only meant to keep peace between her and Lin Yang. But that loose tongue of his had betrayed him.

If the two of them had been alone, Su Yaxue might not have stormed. But dragged into a room full of eyes, to have her embarrassment aired was more than unbearable. She stamped, glared, and raised her long right leg as if she could strike the air itself.

Meanwhile Lin Yang, from the corner of his mind, thought to himself, *Beautiful all right—though I can’t even tell whether it’s fair?* Then he nodded, almost as if moved by poetry, so that anyone watching would have thought he was about to recite a love verse.

Su Xiaodong, however, had no appetite for admiring his little sister’s form. He suddenly remembered that this petite, delicate girl was no mere child in his eyes; she was a black-belt taekwondo fighter. He could not even remember how many dan rankings, but he knew he was no match for her if it came to real fighting. His own tricks were crude and low-class compared to hers.

And he knew too well how often she had already had him in pain—wrist twists, arm chokes, leg locks across the wrists, all those searing holds. Just recalling them made him shiver.

The swaggering Su Xiaodong, who often played the big man outside, was now pushed back a few steps by his sister’s glare. In panic, he seized Lin Yang and hauled him forward, placing him in front of her like a human shield.

When another person suddenly appeared in front of her field of vision, Su Yaxue didn’t even glance. She snapped, “Get out of my way.”

Her voice rose like metal striking ice—piercing and sharp. Lin Yang rubbed his buzzing ears, then looked at the little loli-faced beauty before him and spread his hands in apology, then pointed back at the shameless brother who had dragged him in. He muttered, *What the hell, you used me as a body shield. I’m going to sort you out after this.*

Su Yaxue was decisive by nature. She gave no warning. Seeing that ugly fool still standing there while she was still seething, she thought, If I don’t let him go... and with that, she launched herself at Lin Yang.

One had to think that punch would break his nose—perhaps even deform it—if it had landed. Lin Yang twisted away at the last instant, his head snapping to the side. He grabbed Su Yaxue’s white right hand in his own, folding her fingers into his palm, his brow tightening. “Little sister, stop.”

Su Xiaodong, now frantic, came forward. He knew Lin Yang’s temper and his own sister’s ferocity with the coach’s daughter; this was trouble waiting to happen. Yet he could not let his little sister run wild, not with Lin Yang involved. He had already annoyed her enough.

At the doorway, Su Dongyang and Wang Erdog, who had been whispering and muttering, were also caught off guard. They had thought Su Xiaodong would mediate and make it disappear—he and Lin Yang were said to be on good terms, after all. Not even half a cigarette had burned before those two had ended up in the middle of it too.

“Girl, let go. This isn’t a game,” Wang Erdog rushed over, his heavy body wobbling with every step, voice raised as he tried to intervene.

Su Yaxue did not heed him. Her right hand, seized by Lin Yang, had been pulled and yanked uselessly. Unable to free it, she swung her leg in a hard chopping kick aimed straight at Lin Yang’s brow.

Her flexibility was extraordinary. The leg came up so high it rose above her own head, and when she came down the force veered toward his shoulder because of her height. He moved faster than she did—one lightning motion: his right hand held her right hand still, his left hand snatched at the incoming leg.

When her right foot was only a few inches from him, he grabbed her ankle with a vice-like grip and pinned it. She could not move it.

With one hand held and one foot trapped, from a distance Su Yaxue looked like an exaggerated one-legged fighter’s stance, all force and balance, slowly leaning toward Lin Yang but held by her own strength and control.

Su Dongyang rushed in to pull back his daughter. “Hmph. You think this means I’m defeated?”

Su Yaxue snapped back with a cold laugh and moved again.

Her stubbornness was undeniable, but so were her skills. Her flexibility had become almost inhuman; compared with some of the famous yoga masters, it would not be outdone. Lin Yang wondered if she had trained under one of them.

Right foot and right hand constrained, she moved like a seasoned athlete: left hand clamped around Lin Yang’s right wrist, left foot coiled behind him, winding around his body like a snake. Using both sides to shift her weight, before he could make sense of her intention they were both heading down to the ground—Lin Yang again taking the impact.

The crowd watched as if stunned; no one stepped in to break the fall.

A heavy thud rolled through the room, followed by a faint, sharp cry. It was Lin Yang, the one serving as the cushion.

Su Yaxue, stubborn to the end, crashed her left foot down hard into the floor and kept both of him pinned under the weight of her own body. Not a squeal escaped her. She held on, pressing him down all the harder.

Lin Yang lay beneath her, and the scene, if anything, was almost indecently intimate. Even the cynical Su Xiaodong stood with wide, astonished eyes, wondering what on earth this was.

Su Yaxue had a thin figure, yet a beautifully developed chest, a small, youthful face, and a curiously full, voluptuous frame. She was very much a little girl in appearance, which made the whole picture even stranger.

With two soft, yielding forms pressing against his chest, Lin Yang lay there with genuine appreciation and no intention of resisting. He wasn’t a fool; if something felt that good, why get up?

The stillness could not last. In an instant, three men burst forward at once: Wang Erdog, Su Dongyang, and Su Xiaodong. A brief moment of confusion passed among them, then they moved with surprising coordination. Su Dongyang reached in and lifted Su Yaxue by the waist in a single strong motion—his height made it easy—but she remained stubbornly locked in place. She had no intention of releasing him now that she wanted Lin Yang to feel her chokehold. Her left foot still clamped tight, both hands crushing at his neck, she held him and refused to let go.

“Little Snow, let go. Is this how a proper daughter behaves?” Su Dongyang, half furious by then, hauled at her repeatedly with no effect.

She shot back, “I won’t. Why shouldn’t I? He bullied me.”

Lin Yang, exasperated, said, “Bullied you? You started it. You grabbed me. You dragged me over here. You threw me to the floor. And yes, it was weirdly pleasant for a moment, but right now you’re the one stuck to me like glue. If there’s a bully in this room, it’s you.”

Seeing he couldn’t free her, Su Xiaodong paused, gave her a strained grin, and muttered quietly, “Little sister, I’m sorry.” Then he reached over and rubbed the side of her body under the arm, an old trick to break tension.

The move worked immediately. The woman who had seemed all chain and steel in that moment flinched at the tickle and released her grip. Seizing the chance, Su Dongyang pulled hard and hoisted his daughter clear into the air.

Wang Erdog came up beside them with a wry grin and helped pull Lin Yang to his feet, apologizing again and again.

Only after Su Dongyang managed to separate the two and shield Su Yaxue did he offer a formal apology. “Young Yang, may I address you as such?”

Lin Yang brushed dust from his clothes and smoothed his shirt before replying with a calm smile. “Don’t worry. We were only fooling around. Please, sir, do not fault me.”

That smile eased Su Dongyang at once. He had just heard from Wang Erdog the summary of Lin Yang’s background: this young man had the backing of important men from Jinhai, and had even frightened the powerful Leng family while quietly extracting a tidy sum from them. Whatever his standing, he was no ordinary boy.

In political circles, a man who couldn’t be smooth would not last. Su Dongyang was no exception, and by temperament he was often even more skilled than Wang Erdog at flattering and drawing near. So he had already addressed Lin Yang in familiar terms to bridge the distance.

Even so, he kept hold of his stubborn daughter’s arm and said, “Little Snow. Go, make your apology to your brother Yang.”