APR 5

San Zhong wasn’t the name of a school, but rather a street. It earned this nickname because it happened to be the intersection point of three schools. The street was filled with groups of young people gathered in clusters, laughing and chatting boisterously. Snack shops, pool halls, and arcades could be found everywhere.

Zhong Su pushed open the glass door of Mars Billiards Hall and was immediately hit by the pungent smell of cigarette smoke. A cassette player was blaring overplayed rock music, and the spacious hall had only a few scattered people playing pool.

“Welcome. 30 per hour, 150 for overnight with complimentary late-night snack,” the front desk girl said without looking up, continuing to flip through her dog-eared gossip magazine.

Zhong Su scanned the room but didn’t spot any gang members matching Wen Xiong’s description. “The Zero Gang members haven’t arrived yet.”

“Then we’ll wait until they show up.”

Chen Huan, eyeing the pool tables with growing interest, placed money on the counter and casually picked up a cue. “Since we’re idle anyway, Su Er, come play a few rounds with me.”

The pool hall was fully equipped with gloves, chalk, and scoreboards, and with few players around, many tables stood empty.

Zhong Su lifted an eyelid slightly, his gaze sweeping over the row of cue sticks worn pale from use. “What’s the wager?”

“Betting money hurts friendships, and betting on anything too difficult isn’t appropriate either.”

Chen Huan rubbed the cue thoughtfully. “How about this: if I lose, you can make one request of me—nothing too extreme, like doing laundry or cooking. Same goes if you lose.”

Zhong Su considered it; the proposal sounded fair, and even if he lost, it wouldn’t be a big deal, so he agreed.

He nodded. “Deal. Keep your word.”

Like a cat that got the cream, Chen Huan grinned, his eyes narrowing and his sharp teeth gleaming white. “It’s settled then. I’ll break. Standard rules, no calling pockets, sinking the eight-ball on the break counts as a win.”

Chen Huan bent over and pushed the cue, his forearm muscles tensing. With a sharp “crack,” the 9-ball dropped into the pocket. He sank five balls in a row before pausing, glancing at Zhong Su beside him to signal it was his turn.

“Every shot so tricky—typical of you.” Zhong Su raised an eyebrow. Instead of rushing to shoot, he picked up some chalk and carefully rubbed the cue tip.

Having fallen so far behind from the start, he was cautious, leaning down to scrutinize the position of each ball.

Chen Huan didn’t acknowledge Zhong Su’s complaint, leaning against the table as his sharp gaze slowly traveled over Zhong Su’s taut long legs, the curve of his hips tightening upward, and finally settling on the faint glimpse of smooth, pale skin at his waist.

Just as Zhong Su was carefully aiming, Chen Huan suddenly reached from behind, placing his hand over Zhong Su’s and lightly brushing the red mole on his wrist. Their bodies pressed close together.

Startled, Zhong Su hesitated to pull away, mindful of the cigarette near Chen Huan’s mouth. “Hey, your cigarette isn’t out—”

“Your grip is wrong.” Chen Huan’s voice was close to his ear as one hand clamped around his wrist and the other slid to his waist, landing precisely on the exposed skin.

Chen Huan’s body temperature was higher than Zhong Su’s, and the moment his palm made contact, Zhong Su almost thought he’d been burned by the cigarette, unable to suppress a shiver. “Hiss…”

Chen Huan tightened his grip and pushed forward, the cue tracing a clean arc as the eight-ball dropped into the pocket.

“See? With this kind of force, your accuracy improves a lot.” Chen Huan curled his lips smugly.

“Good my ass.” Zhong Su broke free from his embrace, watching the black eight ball sink into the pocket as he massaged his forehead. “That’s a foul shot. So does this ball count for you or for me?”

Pocketing the black eight before finishing his own set of balls was equivalent to an immediate forfeit—no chance to continue playing.

“Count it as mine, whatever.” Chen Huan said matter-of-factly, “Anyway, I’ll beat you in more than just this round.”

The tanned young man made no attempt to hide his absolute confidence in victory.

Zhong Su’s lips twitched, caught between irritation and amusement. No matter how he looked at this guy, he seemed unbearably smug.

Zhong Su considered himself quite skilled at pool—back in his younger days, he’d even won decent money from adults betting on games to supplement his living expenses.

But Chen Huan played with ruthless precision, his strategies terrifyingly meticulous. Not only were his shots cunning, but every stroke calculated the cue ball’s position, even preemptively blocking his opponent’s potential moves.

This time, he was clearly serious. From the very start of the second game, his shots came fast and fierce, colored balls dropping into pockets one after another, leaving Zhong Su no opportunity to even take a shot.

Zhong Su could only stand by and watch him play.

After a while, the pool hall’s door burst open as a noisy group of youngsters swarmed in. Each had a crooked “0” tattooed on the back of their hands, resembling a pack of crabs just learning to brandish their claws.

They clamored over each other: “I’m going first—don’t anyone dare cut in!”

“Let’s get this straight: whoever loses can’t welch on the bet this time.”

The leader, with dyed green hair, was showing off to a pretty girl: “Zeng Qiman, if I can clear the table in one turn later, how about becoming my girlfriend?”

The pretty girl curled her lip impatiently. “Easy to brag when it’s just empty words. Talk to me after you actually manage it.”

Zeng Qiman had no interest in riffraff like Luo Shanyou who only knew how to make noise. She preferred formidable types who could command a scene with just a glance—the kind who could silence underlings with a single look.

She couldn’t help recalling the broken-browed young man she’d glimpsed from afar two days ago at Great Joy Dance Hall. That one hadn’t even looked up, yet the hoodlums around him instinctively lowered their voices. Now that was real presence.

A crisp crack of a cue strike drew the Zero Gang youngsters’ attention.

Chen Huan was clearing the table in one run. Dressed in a short-sleeved shirt, his solid forearm muscles bulged as sweat traced paths down his wheat-toned skin, like a black leopard poised to strike. Zeng Qiman couldn’t tear her eyes away.

—It was him.

Zeng Qiman recognized him with delight—the broken-browed young man she’d been remembering all this time.

She smoothed her hair and hurried over to Chen Huan in quick steps, pitching her voice sweetly and coquettishly: “Hey, handsome, is this your first time here? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Your shooting form is really cool—could you teach me?”

Zeng Qiman’s beautiful eyes sparkled, eagerly awaiting Chen Huan’s response.

Chen Huan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sliding past the girl to settle on the group of youngsters behind her, a teasing glint in his eyes.

He called out to Zhong Su: “Su Er.”

Zhong Su walked over to Chen Huan’s side and responded calmly, “Yeah, I saw the tattoos too. Probably them, no mistake.”

He set down his cue, flexed his wrist, and prepared for action.

Luo Shanyou’s ears burned under Chen Huan’s teasing smile, feeling provoked as he yanked Zeng Qiman behind him and snapped, “Hey! Which gang are you from? Daring to steal a woman from me, Luo Shanyou of the Zero Gang? Looking to die?”

Chen Huan straightened to his full height, towering over Luo Shanyou with an intimidating presence.

“Zero Gang? Never heard of it. What’s so impressive about it?” He removed the cigarette from his lips, leisurely flicking the ash.

A few burning embers scattered onto Luo Shanyou’s face, twisting his expression. “What do you mean never heard of it? Know the Double Flower Red Pole ‘Chang She’ from Jiu Zhong Society? Your granddad here took him down with my crew.”

“Oh, so it was you. Then do you know who I am?” Chen Huan flashed a wild grin.

Seeing that smile, Luo Shanyou felt a chill in his heart. He had barely retreated half a step when his scalp was seized violently.

Chen Huan grabbed his hair and smashed his head hard against the nearby pool table—

Crimson blood immediately splattered across the felt.

“Ahhh!!”

“He’s killing someone! Run if you don’t want to die!”

The girls from the Zero Gang turned pale with fright, the more timid members scattering like startled birds and vanishing in an instant.

Dazed by the blood covering his face, Luo Shanyou saw the world through a red haze. The pain awakened his inherent ferocity as he reached for the young man with the broken eyebrow: “You fucking—!”

Blinded by rage, he completely forgot his green hair was still trapped in Chen Huan’s grip.

Chen Huan said lightly, “Kid, stubbornness comes with a price.”

Without blinking, he slammed Luo Shanyou’s head against the pool table’s edge again.

Thud—!

Chen Huan lifted the pain-stunned Luo Shanyou like a chick, the green hair now soaked in thick blood. The youth’s once-decent face was now a horrific mess, bloody bubbles frothing from his nostrils.

The gruesome scene terrified everyone remaining. One Zero Gang member with a nose ring even retched uncontrollably.

Even Zhong Su had blood spatter on his face. Wiping it away with his index finger, his brow twitched.

Zhong Su turned to the terrified youngsters and coldly barked, “What are you staring at? On your knees, all of you.”

“Identify yourselves one by one—names and addresses. Slap yourselves a hundred times. The Jiu Zhong Society’s leader specifically ordered you to learn your lesson and stop provoking those you shouldn’t.”

Amidst loud slapping sounds, the Zero Gang members desperately struck their own faces, sobbing and begging: “We’ll never dare again, please let us go!”

The usually lawless, arrogant kids now collectively slapped themselves, their cheeks swelling like steamed buns while loudly vowing to study hard and improve daily.

Seeing the children’s spirit thoroughly broken, leaving them utterly dejected,

Chen Huan shook his hand and said, “Su Er, that’s enough. Let’s go.”

Warm blood dripped from his fingertips onto the floor, glaringly crimson.

Noticing the bloodstains, Zhong Su threw 5 yuan at the counter, grabbed a bottled water from the icebox, and chased after him: “Chen Huan, wait up.”

After they left, the pool hall descended into chaos as several Zero Gang lackeys rushed to check on Luo Shanyou.

They helped the man up, but Luo Shanyou was already delirious. He grabbed someone by the collar and cried out desperately, “Get my uncle! Go find him! Someone bullied me—he has to help me get revenge!”

“I’m going to kill that lunatic from earlier, chop off his hands and feet—I will absolutely kill him!”

The underlings were all startled into silence by the ferocious expression on his face. For a moment, no one dared to respond. They could only call an ambulance first and send him to the hospital to keep him alive.