Chapter Fifty-Four: Turmoil at the Floating Casino

“Well now! Turns out you’re a lady! And quite wealthy, too!” The young man glanced back, his drunken eyes tinged crimson, but upon seeing Zhang Yuru, a sharp gleam flashed through them. Instinctively, his gaze slid from her flawless, fair face to the gentle curve of her chest, his eyes glinting with a lecherous light. With an arrogant tilt of his head, he unfastened the jade pendant from his waist, as if worried it would be damaged, and tossed it lightly onto the table. His sidelong glance brimmed with provocation, and the disdain curling his lips was unmistakable. “Pretty boy! You look sturdy enough, but who would’ve guessed you live off women, a pathetic weakling! See this? That jade pendant would cover your expenses for years—take it and get lost!”

“As for this young lady…” The young man’s lustful gaze returned to Zhang Yuru, his eyes aglow, oblivious to the frosty chill on her face, and he even reached out unconsciously to touch her delicate cheek.

“You filthy scoundrel!” Before Ding Li could react, Zhang Yuru snatched the brocade pouch from the table and hurled it fiercely at the addled young man before her. The pouch, heavy with lead ingots, struck him so hard he doubled over.

But Zhang Yuru was far from finished. She picked up the jade pendant, its luster exquisite, and without hesitation smashed it to the ground.

A crisp crack resounded.

The finely carved pendant shattered instantly, pieces scattering across the floor. Staring at the wreckage, the young man seemed to hear his own heart break. He tried to rise, to speak, but Zhang Yuru suddenly kicked him over, then stood, hands on her hips, glaring down with icy fury. “It’s nothing but a worthless rock from the South Seas! And you have the nerve to show it off?”

Cursing him, Zhang Yuru grabbed the young man’s brocade pouch, untied the mouth, and, holding both corners, dumped the lead ingots over his head, showering him from head to toe.

“You bitch! You dare hit me?” The young man finally snapped out of his stupor—not to consider who Zhang Yuru might be, but ashamed that he’d been publicly humiliated by a woman. He straightened, spat furiously to the side, then stepped forward, raising his hand high. “Whore! I’ll teach you—”

Ding Li could no longer stand by. In a flash, he lunged forward, grabbing the young man’s wrist before the slap could fall, yanking it down. As he released the wrist, he seized the back of the man’s neck, pressed down, and brought his knee up hard into that deserving face.

A sickening crack.

“Oh my mother!” The young man was flung aside by Ding Li, landing flat on his back, curled up like a boiled lobster, clutching his bloodied face with both hands, unable even to open his eyes, his mouth emitting only pitiful wails: “Help! Somebody help! I’ve been assaulted! Help!”

Immediately, several attendants from nearby gambling tables rushed over. Seeing their young master in such a state, then glancing at the calm and unruffled Ding Li, they hesitated, unsure if he could really be the one who’d acted.

“You useless fools! Why are you just standing there?” The young man, relieved to see his men, raged at their inaction, waving his arm and cursing. He pointed at Ding Li and Zhang Yuru, commanding, “Go! Deal with that brat for me! I’ll answer to Master Hua! And that whore—don’t hurt her, keep her for me!”

“Still got the nerve to talk? Looking for trouble!” Hearing this, Zhang Yuru’s anger soared. She reached for a chair behind her, but Ding Li stopped her, pulling her behind him. Before she could steady herself, Ding Li was already charging forward.

The young man’s men were few, only four. At their master’s command, they were still stunned when Ding Li’s expressionless face appeared before them. Without mercy, Ding Li struck—a knife hand to the left, a right punch thrown.

The man on the left felt a sharp pain in his neck and collapsed, eyes rolling back. The one struck by the fist fared little better, perhaps worse—his nose collapsed into his face, and if not for quickly clutching it, the grotesque sight would have horrified the onlookers.

The remaining two wished dearly to flee, but feared reprisal from their master. Rooted in place, they stared at Ding Li, panic written across their faces, unable to advance or retreat, their feet edging backward.

Having started the fight, Ding Li showed no mercy. Even with his opponents defenseless, he acted decisively and ruthlessly.

His hands moved like lightning, both arms reaching out to seize the two men’s arms, pulling them close with ease. With a deft twist, their arms wound together like twisted rope.

A gruesome snap.

Perhaps Ding Li moved too fast; both arms broke nearly simultaneously. The two collapsed without so much as a groan, eyes rolling back, their limbs entwined in an unnatural arc that drew shudders and sharp breaths from the crowd.

“You—you’ve got guts!” Now the young man was utterly dumbstruck. His men had been dispatched in the blink of an eye, yet he still glared at Ding Li, though terror filled his eyes. He forced himself to threaten, voice trembling, “Don’t you dare leave! And you, the whore behind you! I’ll kill you both!”

Thud.

Thud.

Before he finished speaking, the young man felt a shadow overhead—two solid wooden chairs crashed down on him, one after another. He groaned, his body convulsed, and he lay still, silent.

“Cut out his tongue and throw him in the sea,” Zhang Mingzhi ordered coldly as he walked toward Zhang Yuru, not sparing a glance at the chaos, tossing the command to Zhang Wu behind him.

“Who dares make trouble on Master Hua’s ship?” Perhaps the commotion was too great, or the casino staff had alerted him. A burly, middle-aged man with half his torso exposed and a dark tiger tattoo strode down from the cabin, arms folded, face raised as he surveyed the carnage. Eight club-wielding thugs fanned out behind him, ready to act at a moment’s notice.

“Well?” Ding Li stepped forward to stand beside Zhang Wu. Zhang Mingzhi, after checking his sister, turned to face the tattooed man, eyes narrowed, a cold glint rising deep within them. “Must I choose a place before teaching a foul-mouthed dog a lesson?”

“Second Master Zhang!” The tattooed man’s bravado faded instantly upon recognizing Zhang Mingzhi. Surprise flashed across his eyes, quickly replaced by a smile. He signaled his men to stand down, raised his arms in a respectful salute, and said, “Second Master, you jest! How could I, Ah Hu, dare obstruct you?”

He glanced at the battered men on the floor, then ordered his men, “Take these troublemakers outside, so they don’t ruin tonight’s business!”

Before his men could act, an older, sharp-eyed man hurried over, whispered a few words in Ah Hu’s ear, causing his expression to change. He waved the old man away, frowned, then explained to Zhang Mingzhi, “Second Master, that young man has quite the background. Perhaps you could show some leniency? He’s already been punished—later, I’ll teach him another lesson. Let’s leave it at that?”

“What background?” Zhang Mingzhi ignored the suggestion, glancing coldly at the young man on the floor.

“Well…” Ah Hu, knowing the temper of the Zhang Trading Company’s young master, hesitated, then pressed on, “Second Master, that’s Wang Jie, the only son of Old Wang, proprietor of Wang Trading at the southern docks. You know their business influence in Fuxu Town…”

“Hah! As if Master Hua would care about a tiny outfit like Wang Trading!” Zhang Mingzhi cut him off with a cold sneer.

“Second Master, you jest!” Ah Hu’s face flickered with annoyance, but he quickly resumed his respectful manner. “Master Hua always says harmony brings wealth! It’s not about any particular company—after all, our pleasure barge is—”

“Enough. By sunset tomorrow, there won’t be a Wang Trading in Fuxu Town!” Zhang Mingzhi dismissed him icily, adding, “I don’t want to hear another word from this brat. Will you handle it here, or shall I?”

Ah Hu did not argue further. With Zhang Mingzhi’s words, Master Hua was absolved from the matter, and Wang Trading would have to deal with Zhang Mingzhi if trouble arose. Ah Hu nodded decisively. “Since you’ve made it clear, Second Master, I won’t press further. As for dealing with him, I understand—you won’t need to trouble yourself!”

“Thank you,” Zhang Mingzhi said, a rare gesture of respect, though his tone remained cold as frost.

“No, no, please!” Ah Hu hurriedly dodged the salute, returning it with his own, then signaled his men. Smiling, he asked, “Will Second Master stay to play, or…”

“My mood is ruined—next time.” Zhang Mingzhi shook his head, glanced at the lead ingots scattered across the floor, and said, “Luck was good tonight, quite a haul! Let’s leave it as compensation. We’re leaving.”

He stepped aside, signaling Zhang Yuru, who immediately followed, striding quickly toward Ding Li and Zhang Wu. As she passed the unconscious Wang Jie, she didn’t forget to kick him twice, then stormed off in a huff.