Chapter 78: Young Lords and Ladies**
Song Mingjie's muttered jab was quiet, but Liu Wei's ears caught it like a fox sensing prey. She spun on him, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits, and her voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "What did you just say? 'Bad taste'? Say that again, and I'll split you into two fat lumps. Then I'll even take your last name—Song! See if I don't." A cold, menacing aura rolled off her, making the air feel thinner, as if a storm were brewing.
"Gulp!" Song Mingjie's Adam's apple bobbed violently. He stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet, and his face paled. *Why did I let that slip? She's a live grenade with a hairpin trigger.*
Wu Yifan, watching them lock eyes in a silent battle of wills, stepped between them with a sigh. "Enough, you two. I'm feeling generous today—no brawls. Let's head back. We've been gone long enough. Your parents might start wondering if you eloped."
"Elope? With *him*?" Liu Wei scoffed, her nose wrinkling in disgust.
"Elope? With *her*?" Song Mingjie echoed, equally repulsed, as if the idea alone left a bad taste in his mouth.
They turned to leave, but the sound of heavy footsteps and authoritative shouts cut through the hallway. A group of police officers charged up the stairs, their uniforms crisp, their expressions stern. "Everyone stop! Stay right where you are!"
The onlookers, who'd been lingering to soak up the drama like it was a free play, froze. What had started as a juicy spectacle was suddenly veering into a police matter—and no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire. They inched back, plastering nervous smiles on their faces, their eyes darting to the exits, silently begging to be overlooked.
The fat man, who'd been moaning on the floor like a wounded animal, perked up as if injected with a shot of adrenaline. He hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach, and lunged toward the officers, his voice cracking with exaggerated anguish. "Officers! Thank God you're here! They—they attacked me! Beat my bodyguards senseless! Look!" He pointed dramatically at his two men, still crumpled on the floor with swollen, purple faces. "It's barbaric! Inhuman! They're monsters!" Tears streamed down his cheeks, but with his round, puffy face and flabby chin, he looked less like a victim and more like a toddler throwing a fit over a stolen lollipop.
The crowd exchanged knowing glances, their lips twisting into half-amused, half-disgusted sneers. *Never seen such a shameless act.*
One officer, a burly man with a buzzcut and a permanent scowl, scanned the scene, his brow furrowed. "You're claiming they did this?" He nodded at Wu Yifan, Liu Wei, and Song Mingjie, his tone skeptical but firm.
Wu Yifan stood tall, his posture relaxed, a faint, almost amused smile playing on his lips. "I hit them. That's correct."
Song Mingjie let out a theatrical sigh, shaking his head. "What a waste…"
"Waste of what?" Wu Yifan asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Waste of a perfectly good fight. I showed up too late—missed all the fun. Could've stretched my legs, you know?" Song Mingjie lamented, as if he'd just missed out on front-row tickets to a concert.
Liu Wei snickered, crossing her arms. "Your 'fighting skills'? Please. You'd trip over your own feet before landing a punch."
"Hey! I once took down two Korean thugs! Knocked 'em flat!" Song Mingjie shot back, puffing out his chest proudly. "That's skill, baby. You wouldn't get it."
"Took them down? You clobbered them with a brick while they were doing taekwondo!" Liu Wei scoffed. "You call that honor? It's embarrassing. Bringing shame to every Chinese fighter." (In truth, she'd quietly cheered when she'd heard about the Koreans getting roughed up—they'd been bullying street vendors for weeks—but she wasn't about to give Song Mingjie the satisfaction of agreeing with him.)
"It's called 'brick vs. martial arts'—unbeatable strategy!" Song Mingjie insisted, jabbing a finger in her direction.
"More like 'cowardly sneak attack,'" Liu Wei fired back, rolling her eyes.
"At least I don't need a security guard to rescue me!"
"At least I don't cry when I lose an argument!"
The officers stared, dumbfounded. Were these people serious? They'd just been accused of assault, and here they were bickering like schoolkids—completely ignoring the police. It was as if they thought badges and handcuffs were nothing more than props.
Finally, the buzzcut officer snapped, his patience frayed. "Enough! All three of you—come with us. Never seen anyone in Beitian so bold after throwing a punch."
"Me?" Song Mingjie pointed to himself, feigning wide-eyed innocence.
"Probably includes me and Yifan, too," Liu Wei said, grinning like this was a game. "Never been to a police station. Wonder what it's like. Bet it's boring."
"Boring? Please. Police stations are nothing. Prisons—*that's* where the action is," Song Mingjie said, his eyes lighting up with morbid excitement. "Murderers, rapists, arsonists—all sorts. Like a criminal carnival."
"You've been to prison?" Liu Wei asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Nah, but I read about it. There's this book—*Genius Legend*? Talks about jail. Full of weirdos. I'll take you sometime. You'd love it."
"Please. Only perverts read that trash."
The fat man, already seething at being ignored, turned to the officers and slipped a wad of cash into their hands—a few hundred yuan, enough for a decent meal. "Officers! You see? They're mocking you! Arrest them! Lock 'em up! Teach 'em a lesson!"
The officers' eyes lit up at the money, their scowls softening. For small-time cases like this, they could twist the story however they wanted. A little extra cash never hurt.
"Let's go," the buzzcut officer said, reaching for Wu Yifan's arm.
Before his hand made contact, a deep, authoritative voice boomed through the hallway. "What's going on here?"
The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and there stood Liu Qingyang, Chen Liyun, and Song Longteng, their expressions stern, their presence filling the space with quiet power. They'd grown tired of waiting for the younger trio and decided to investigate.
"Dad!" Song Mingjie waved, as if pointing out a cool car. "These officers wanna take me to the station for tea! Neat, huh?"
"Tea at the station?" Song Longteng's eyebrows shot up. He turned to the officers, his gaze sharp, the weight of his position as court president hanging in the air.
The officers, who'd been acting tough a moment ago, paled. At first glance, they'd thought these were just ordinary parents—but up close, recognition dawned. They'd seen these faces on the news. *Liu Qingyang, Anti-Corruption Bureau chief. Song Longteng, city court president.* These weren't just any adults. These were men who could end their careers with a single phone call.
The buzzcut officer stammered, his face breaking into a sweat. "L-Liu Director? President Song? W-we didn't realize… you were here."
Song Longteng cleared his throat, adopting a solemn tone. "I'm here with Director Liu on work. Now—what's this about my son? He's a handful, I'll admit. If he did wrong, don't spare him. Teach him a lesson."
The officers wanted to cry. *Teach him a lesson? Are you insane?* This was a no-win scenario. Arresting the son of a court president would be career suicide.
"N-no trouble at all, sir!" the buzzcut officer said, backtracking so fast he nearly stumbled. "Your son—he was… *defending the innocent*. Heroic, really. We were just about to commend him."
"Commend him?" Song Longteng raised an eyebrow, playing along with the charade.
"Absolutely! Bravery beyond his years," the officer gushed, nodding so hard his neck might snap.
Song Longteng nodded, satisfied. "Good. Thought he'd gone and messed up again."
Liu Qingyang turned to Liu Wei, who was trying to look innocent, her lips pressed into a pout. "Wei'er? I thought you ran off. What are you doing here?" He knew his daughter well—she loved stirring up trouble, but only with people who deserved it. He'd always turned a blind eye, as long as she stayed on the right side of the law.
Liu Wei grabbed her father's arm, switching to her best "poor, helpless me" voice. "I tried to leave, but *he*—" she pointed at the fat man, who was now staring at her with wide, horrified eyes "—stopped me. Called me a… a escort. Tried to pay me to… to sleep with him. If Yifan hadn't been there, who knows what would've happened?" She batted her eyes, laying on the drama thick.
The fat man, who'd been listening in mounting horror, finally processed her words. *Escort? This is the Anti-Corruption Bureau chief's daughter?* He felt the blood drain from his face, his knees buckling. He'd just poked a tiger with a stick. With a strangled gasp, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
The officers, now as pale as ghosts, scrambled to pick him up. Two of the city's most powerful figures' kids were involved—this was way above their pay grade. "Right! Uh, thank you, Miss Liu, for reporting this! We'll… we'll investigate thoroughly! No stone unturned!" They hauled the unconscious fat man and his groaning bodyguards away, nearly tripping over themselves in their rush to escape.
The crowd, sensing the danger had passed, dispersed quickly—no one wanted to linger and risk angering Beitian's bigwigs.
Liu Wei, now beaming, turned to her father and chattered away, exaggerating every detail: how Wu Yifan had "flown through the air like a superhero," how he'd "knocked out the bad guys with one punch," how he was "basically Superman in a security guard uniform."
Liu Qingyang laughed, a deep, hearty sound that filled the hallway. "Xiao Wu, you must be something special. My stubborn daughter rarely sings anyone's praises. In all of Beitian, you're one of the few."
"Uncle, you're too kind," Wu Yifan said, smiling faintly, though inwardly he couldn't help but shake his head.
*Rich kids.* They bickered like cats and dogs, but when push came to shove, their names carried more weight than any fist.
He just hoped the rest of the day would be quieter. But with this group? He knew better.
Trouble was always just around the corner.