Chapter 7: How Dare You Slander Me?

In the alley, Shen He glanced up at the surveillance camera mounted on the wall, casually pointed at it, and said, "That little collision just now? This thing caught everything in crisp detail."

The middle-aged man scoffed at his words. "That camera’s been broken for ages. No one bothers to fix it."

Shen He fell silent for a moment.

"So you’re saying there’s no surveillance here?"

"Obviously. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be pulling these old tricks. Hand over your money, or..."

His threat was cut short as Shen He’s fist swung directly into his face.

With twice the strength of a healthy adult man, Shen He’s punch sent him sprawling to the ground, stars dancing before his eyes, leaving him dazed for ages.

Shen He glanced at the group of burly men around him, flexed his limbs, and spat disdainfully, "No cameras and you still act so cocky."

His words barely landed before he charged at one of the thugs.

The tai chi he’d taken as an elective in college? Useless.

He just started swinging wild punches.

After all, this method truly worked wonders!

You hit me? Nothing happens.

I hit you? You’ll cough up bile.

With twice the strength of a healthy man, nearly every punch knocked someone out cold.

In barely three minutes, five or six hulking men lay collapsed in the alley, softly groaning on the ground.

Shen He stooped down, picked up a shard from the bottom of the porcelain, and saw the glaring inscription: "Modern Craft Product."

He planted his foot on the chest of the shifty-faced middle-aged man and cursed, "You stingy bastard, you can’t even invest in a proper prop for your little scam. Is this thing even worth thirty bucks?"

The man whimpered, voice trembling, "Factory price—ten yuan."

Upon hearing this, Shen He smashed the porcelain base to bits and slapped the man’s face.

"A ten-yuan piece, and you want two million three hundred thousand from me? You’re really a piece of work."

"Did Zhao Hu send you?"

The man quickly shook his head. "No, it was Wang Long. That guy showed us the way. Told us you’d come into some big money, so we set up the trap. Afterwards, he’d take ninety percent."

Shen He looked skeptical. "Who gets the one, who gets the nine?"

The man replied, "We get one, he gets nine."

Shen He’s eyes widened instantly. "Two million three hundred thousand, one share is just two hundred thirty thousand. You guys risk this much, and each of you gets three or four grand after? That’s practically begging for scraps."

The man gave a bitter laugh. "He’s got connections, money, and channels. All we can do is beg."

Shen He shot him a look of disgust and knocked him out with a swift kick, muttering, "Useless."

The remaining thugs saw this and quickly said, "We’ll do it ourselves."

With that, they decisively knocked themselves out.

Shen He glanced up at the camera overhead, then swaggered out of the alley.

Now, nothing could stop him from eating out.

...

After Shen He left, the thugs cracked open their eyes for a peek, then scrambled up to tend to the middle-aged man, pinching his philtrum to rouse him.

Moments later, the man awoke, feeling the pain coursing through his body, nearly bursting into tears.

One of them gritted his teeth. "Boss, Wang Long screwed us over. He said we’d be dealing with an office drone who’d get winded climbing stairs. Who knew this guy could fight? We have to get our own back."

The middle-aged man slapped him. "Can you beat him?"

Another thug’s eyes flickered. "Maybe we can’t beat this guy, but we can beat Wang Long, right?"

"I hear Wang Long’s always recruiting college girls for his brother-in-law. If we can’t pull this scam, we pull that one. Even a honey trap could net two hundred thousand, and we wouldn’t have to hand over ninety percent."

The middle-aged man fell silent for a while. Then he nodded fiercely. "Fine. Find a few madams, pick a student girl, hit him hard and disappear."

With that, they supported each other out of the alley.

A bit later, a middle-aged woman with permed hair walked over, leading a leash-free toy poodle.

As she passed the scattered porcelain shards, the poodle yelped.

She looked down—blood and bloody shards littered the dog’s feet.

She snatched up her poodle and started cursing, shouting to the surroundings, "Which uncivilized bastard left shards everywhere? My baby’s paw is bleeding..."

She shouted for ages, but not a single soul appeared.

Exhausted, she carried the poodle out of the alley, grumbling, "Don’t be scared, baby. Mommy will take you to the hospital."

At this moment—

Shen He sat in a small eatery, devouring noodles.

In front of him were two empty bowls of stewed noodles; now he was working on an authentic Central Plains-style spicy chicken.

After the chicken, he mixed in two sheets of noodles.

The taste was exquisite!

Behind the counter, the shopkeeper stared at the two empty noodle bowls and the large plate of chicken, eyes wide.

In all his years of business, he’d never seen anyone with such an appetite.

A true young buck.

This capacity for food brought to mind his own grandfather, who, on his deathbed, had eaten just as much—and died from overeating.

After all, a ninety-year-old’s stomach shrinks, and that stuff isn’t easy to digest.

A pity.

Snapping out of his reverie, he saw Shen He approaching. "Boss, check please."

The owner glanced at the receipt, expertly tapped his calculator. "Large plate of chicken, forty-eight. Two bowls of noodles, twenty-four. Two sodas, six. Total comes to seventy-eight."

Shen He grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge. "Make it eighty."

The owner grinned wide. "Alright!"

After paying, Shen He leisurely sipped his sparkling water and left the shop.

He returned to the alley, glanced at the spot where he’d fought, and saw the ground still littered with shards, some stained with blood.

He frowned. "They left without cleaning up. No sense of civic duty."

He used his foot to sweep the fragments to the wall.

Satisfied, he headed home.

Another good deed done today.

Happy.

But once home, he’d have to think carefully about how to deal with Wang Long and Zhao Hu, those two scoundrels.

Bold enough to send people after him.

He hadn’t intended to go public with things, but now, it looked like he’d have to take action in self-defense.

Night.

The streetlights had just come on.

The middle-aged woman returned, carrying her poodle into the alley. Passing the trash bin, she saw the pile of shards swept to the wall and next to the bin.

She instantly flew into a rage, tilting her head back and cursing loudly.

Before she could finish her tirade, a window opened on the second floor.

A curly-haired aunt furtively tossed a bag of trash toward the bin.

In that instant, the cursing in the alley came to an abrupt halt.

The next moment, a scream like a slaughtered pig echoed through the alley, lighting up every sound-activated lamp in the nearby homes.