YMW CH 21

Not Convinced

Xie Guilan hadn’t expected Cen Wu to show up. Maybe Cen Wu thought he had the Cen family’s support, so he feared nothing. But Cen Wu wasn’t stupid—causing this much trouble couldn’t possibly benefit him.

The thugs who had been knocked down were finally starting to stir. Though still unable to stand, they managed to let out groans of pain.

Every single one of them was bloodied, especially the tattooed leader. Blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed uncontrollably. The blond-haired lackey beside him was so terrified he’d wet himself, dragging himself away in desperation—afraid the man might die right next to him.

Xie Guilan had been ruthless. Cen Wu’s heart raced. Sure, the tattooed guy and his crew had attacked first and even tried to rob them, so Xie Guilan had every right to fight back. But leaving them in this state? That was going to be hard to justify.

This world, after all, was a dark and twisted place—straight out of an old-fashioned gritty novel, full of sinister schemes and brutal power plays.

Blue Night seemed legitimate on the surface, but it was actually the largest underground casino in Huaijing. If the tattooed thug and his minions dared to operate near Blue Night, they were probably connected to the casino.

Xie Guilan didn’t know it yet, but Cen Wu did: the casino’s real boss was Xie Mingcheng.

Xie Mingcheng had grown up in poverty. After clawing his way to the top, he didn’t care about things like family—wife and kids were mere afterthoughts. In Huaijing, he’d become a ruthless predator, using any means necessary to rake in money.

His businesses were dirty, awash with laundered cash. Years later, when Xie Guilan took over the Xie family, Blue Night would crumble along with it.

But that was still three years away.

The tattooed thug didn’t recognize Cen Wu, likely just a small-time enforcer. Beating him up wasn’t a big deal. The problem was, he wouldn’t let this slide. He’d want revenge, and that could escalate—especially if Xie Guilan’s actions drew the attention of someone higher up, like Xie Mingcheng.

Better to pin the blame on himself, Cen Wu thought.

With that in mind, he reached out and grabbed Xie Guilan’s hand.

Xie Guilan had just pulled off the bloodied chain he’d used in the fight when Cen Wu grabbed his hand. His brows furrowed, and his expression turned colder.

What was with Cen Wu’s obsession with holding hands? He didn’t even care if his hand was covered in blood.

Cen Wu ignored the glare. Gripping Xie Guilan’s hand firmly, he started wiping off the blood.

One of the beaten thugs, still not giving up, staggered to his feet, only to be met with a steel pipe swung by an exasperated Cen Wu. The man crumpled to the ground again with a heavy thud.

Xie Guilan: “…”

Sometimes, Xie Guilan couldn’t help but wonder if Cen Wu was faking it all along. He seemed much tougher now. Sure, he’d been cocky before, but he’d never dare come to a place like this alone.

Even during that bar fight, when Wang Yue provoked him, he’d let Zhu Zijian handle it rather than get his hands dirty.

But Cen Wu’s courage only flared up briefly. After smashing the thug with the pipe, he met Xie Guilan’s gaze and immediately grew cautious again, fumbling for words.

Xie Guilan lowered his eyes, staring at the soft black hair on Cen Wu’s head. Only then did he notice that Cen Wu’s hair was slightly curly—barely noticeable—but his pale ear, adorned with a tiny red mole, stood out vividly in the dim light.

Cen Wu grew uncomfortable under Xie Guilan’s gaze. His ears turned red, the mole on the tip like a tiny, burning star against the night sky.

He focused on wiping the blood from Xie Guilan’s knuckles, his fingers trembling slightly.

Xie Guilan, cold as he was, was still just seventeen or eighteen. His body radiated the heat of youth, and after the fight, his palm burned so hot that sweat beaded on Cen Wu’s nose.

“…”

How long was Cen Wu planning to hold his hand? Did he forget they weren’t even together?

Xie Guilan couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Almost reflexively, he closed his fingers lightly, nearly encasing Cen Wu’s hand in his.

Cen Wu froze. His pale face turned scarlet, and his eyes darted nervously. What the heck was that?

Thankfully, Xie Guilan let go after less than a second. Cen Wu breathed a sigh of relief—probably just an accident.

He didn’t look up, so he didn’t see the glint of malice, laced with faint amusement, in Xie Guilan’s eyes as he watched Cen Wu’s quivering lashes and flushed cheeks.

“You… you listen to me,” Cen Wu stammered, “No matter who asks, say I was the one who did it tonight.”

He thought Xie Guilan might resist or ignore him altogether, but Xie Guilan simply stared at him and said, “Alright.”

Cen Wu: ???

He’d been gearing up to persuade him, but Xie Guilan agreed so quickly he was left dumbfounded.

The thugs: “…”

What was wrong with these guys?!

They were lying there, unable to move but definitely alive, and these two were over there casually holding hands and debating who beat them up—as if they weren’t even worth noticing.

The tattooed thug was so furious he coughed up more blood. Shaking, he raised a finger to point at Cen Wu. “You… you…”

“What about me?” Cen Wu’s face darkened. He kicked the thug’s hand aside and looked down at him with cold disdain. “You don’t even know who I am, and you dare mess around near Blue Night?”

The thug wanted to scoff but couldn’t. His face was swollen like a balloon, and he could barely open his bruised eyes to show his contempt.

Cen Wu? Just some high school kid. Why should he know or care who Cen Wu was?

But the blond-haired lackey squinted at Cen Wu in the dim moonlight, growing more and more alarmed. Finally, recognition struck him like a bolt of lightning.

“Boss! He… he’s that Cen Wu from the Cen family!”

The tattooed thug didn’t get what Blondie was saying, nor did he expect Cen Wu to actually call the police.

Ten minutes later, the gang of thugs hobbled into the station, covered in blood, their legs trembling.

“How is it you lot again?!” The female officer glared at them coldly. “You just got out a few days ago, and now you’re causing trouble? Bullying students? Do you have any idea how badly you scared them?!”

The thugs: ???

Scared? Us? Can someone take a look at our faces first?!

Cen Wu, still slightly feverish, sat off to the side with a cold patch stuck to his forehead. He looked delicate, with faintly flushed under-eyes and damp lashes. Wrapped in a blanket, he appeared small and well-behaved.

Xie Guilan, still in his school uniform, sat beside him. Calm and composed, he looked like a model student—far more convincing than the thugs.

“Were you scared?” The female officer softened her tone, offering them hot water, cookies, and candy. “Don’t worry, they won’t dare bother you again. You’re safe now.”

The tattooed thug felt a fresh wave of rage, but Blondie clung to him desperately, preventing him from saying anything.

Cen Wu, his throat tight, struggled to speak, determined to get ahead of Xie Guilan. But then Xie Guilan unexpectedly spoke up.

“My mother is in the hospital, and we’re short on money,” Xie Guilan said, his voice calm and even. His pale skin and dark eyes gave him a striking, almost ethereal beauty. “I was working near the school when these men suddenly followed me.”

The tattooed thug: ???

What utter nonsense! You don’t know me?!

He nearly jumped up in fury but was shoved back down by a male officer. “Sit still!”

Xie Guilan continued, his tone unbothered. “Thankfully, my classmate happened to pass by. To save me, he got into a fight with them.”

The tattooed thug: ???

The police: ???

Cen Wu, still feverish, damp lashes fluttering: ???

The female officer glanced between the nearly six-foot-tall, sharp-featured Xie Guilan and the sickly, soft-looking Cen Wu. Her expression became increasingly complex.

Xie Guilan seemed unfazed, turning to Cen Wu and saying, “Thank you.”

“…You’re welcome,” Cen Wu stammered.

“I… I was the one who fought them,” Cen Wu insisted, clenching his fists. He wanted to demonstrate by punching the thug but stopped when he saw the guy’s bloody face. Too gross.

So he turned and punched Xie Guilan’s arm instead, blushing. “Just… like this.”

Xie Guilan, having received the softest punch in history: “…”

The thugs: “…”

Even the police wanted to say, “You don’t need to reward him.”

“Wait,” an older officer suddenly said, staring at Xie Guilan. “I know you. You’re Xie Guilan, right? Top of your year at Huaijing First High?”

His child also attended Huaijing First High, and Xie Guilan’s photo had been plastered on the school’s achievement board for ages. Impossible not to recognize.

As soon as the officer spoke, the thugs stiffened, their faces pale. Trying to rob this guy—a hardworking, top student? What kind of bad luck was this?!

The case was straightforward: an attempted robbery near the school, and the culprits were repeat offenders. The station was well-acquainted with their antics, so processing them was routine.

Cen Wu and Xie Guilan were free to go shortly after.

It had rained earlier, but the sky was clear now, and a cool night breeze swept by.

Still flustered, Cen Wu tugged at his messy hair. When he glanced up, he caught Xie Guilan watching him. Xie Guilan’s lips curved ever so slightly—a fleeting smile.

At first, Cen Wu thought he imagined it, but when Xie Guilan turned away, he was certain. He quickly followed, grabbing Xie Guilan’s wrist.

But when he looked again, Xie Guilan’s face was back to its usual cold and indifferent expression.

Cen Wu scowled. “What are you smiling at?”

Xie Guilan ignored him.

Cen Wu’s eyes glimmered faintly under the moonlight. “I could knock out three of you with one punch. Don’t believe me?”

He looked fierce enough, but the fever patch on his forehead was slipping. Xie Guilan reached out, pressed it firmly back in place, and steadied Cen Wu when he wobbled slightly.

“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you,” Xie Guilan replied coolly.