"Yang Xin, could you help entertain Manager Yao for a bit? I need to handle some matters at the school first."
"Of course, Young Mistress. Leave it to me, you don’t need to worry."
"Take care, President... uh, Young Mistress Liu."
After Liu Yutong left,
Yang Xin turned to Yao Qianshan with a smile. "Actually, you don’t have to mimic how I address the Young Mistress. Just call her whatever you’re comfortable with."
After all, Yao Qianshan wasn’t a core member of the Ten Thousand Dragons Society. Even though she was a talent Yang Xin had painstakingly recruited, she was still considered an outsider for now. These days, becoming a core member required passing an assessment.
This assessment wasn’t just about ability—it also tested whether one could grasp the Society’s principles. In simpler terms, it required insight.
Those without insight could never become core members.
Among the employees under the Ten Thousand Dragons Society’s umbrella, not all were core members. Currently, core members made up only about half of the workforce.
And in the future, the gap between core and peripheral members would only widen.
As the assessments grew more standardized and stringent, even executives poached from other companies might not qualify as core members. Yao Qianshan was a prime example.
If you asked Yang Xin, she’d actually gotten lucky. Unlike him, who had inexplicably become a core member with no way out.
"President Yang, then why do you call President Liu ‘Young Mistress’?" Yao Qianshan asked curiously.
This was something she’d wondered about for a while.
The first time she’d heard Yang Xin use the term "Young Mistress," she’d assumed Liu Yutong was the daughter of some wealthy tycoon.
But she later learned that wasn’t the case at all—Yang Xin’s "Young Mistress" was the boss.
In the Ten Thousand Dragons Society, "boss" and "Young Mistress" were interchangeable titles.
And this "Young Mistress" wasn’t from some affluent family either—she was entirely self-made.
"Well... it’s just force of habit. You could say it’s part of our company culture," Yang Xin explained after a moment’s thought.
"Our company is roughly divided into two groups—one side calls her that like I do, and the other side uses more conventional titles. It’s... complicated, honestly."
Yao Qianshan immediately understood what he meant. This was just a divide between the inner circle and the outsiders.
Clearly, even after being headhunted, she still had a long way to go before being considered part of the inner circle.
But one thing puzzled her: Given that the new boss now held absolute control, why bother fostering factions at all?
Wasn’t that counterproductive?
Usually, only large corporations—those with founders and investors—resorted to rallying executives into factions to maintain balance. The Ten Thousand Dragons Society hadn’t reached that stage yet; there was no need for it.
Was this some kind of preemptive measure?
Regardless, even if she disliked the idea of factions, she had no choice but to integrate herself into the inner circle.
With that thought,
Yao Qianshan suddenly straightened her posture, her eyes burning with determination. "President Yang, I will work hard to earn President Liu’s recognition!"
Yang Xin seemed to realize she’d misunderstood. "Actually, just focus on doing your job well. Some things... aren’t really suited for you—"
"President Yang, do you doubt my capabilities?" Yao Qianshan declared. "I can do this!"
Yang Xin: "..."
Never mind. Better to drop it—she’d figure it out eventually.
On the other side...
The atmosphere on Xuehai Street was tense as two groups stood off against each other.
One side consisted of Liu Yutong’s classmates, including Fang Haoran and others.
The other was Huang Feihu, who had the worst luck today after being swindled out of 200,000 yuan.
At the moment, Huang Feihu was clutching his bleeding forehead, glaring viciously at the group of students from the Finance University. Behind him stood seven or eight thugs armed with weapons, their faces twisted with menace.
Then, a bulky, rough-faced thug with an unusually large head stepped forward from the back.
Huang Feihu immediately approached him, pointing at Fang Haoran and the other students, and said, "Big Head Brother, it’s these little brats who beat me up!"
Big Head Brother took in Huang Feihu’s sorry state and clicked his tongue mockingly. "Feihu, what the hell happened to you? How’d you end up getting your ass handed to you by a bunch of college kids?"
He then gestured toward the shop behind Huang Feihu, its doors sealed with official notices. "And what’s up with your shop? Why’s it shut down?"
Huang Feihu hesitated, not sure how to explain. "Uh... just pissed off the wrong people. Got slapped with a temporary closure for 'rectification.'"
Big Head Brother frowned. "Is this the same bunch you called me about earlier, then told me to back off?"
Huang Feihu nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, but forget about that for now. These little shits didn’t just beat me up—they laughed at me! They need to learn a lesson!"
"Easy. Just a bunch of kids who don’t know any better."
Big Head Brother finally turned his attention to the visibly nervous students, his gaze lingering on the trembling girls hiding behind the boys. He licked his lips—tonight wouldn’t be boring after all.
"Who the hell do you think you are, messing with my guy on my turf? Let’s hear how you plan to make this right."
Fang Haoran eyed him warily. "What do you want?"
Big Head Brother raised a hand, speaking slowly. "My boy here got messed up bad. First, cough up 50,000 for medical expenses. Then, get on your knees and apologize. And finally, let those girls behind you come with us for some karaoke. Do that, and we’ll call it even."
The students’ faces paled at the outrageous demands, especially the five girls, who looked terrified.
None of these conditions were acceptable.
50,000 yuan was impossible for them to scrape together.
And sending the girls with them? That was clearly a trap.
Fang Haoran and the other boys had a strong sense of responsibility. Since they had organized this outing, they were determined to protect their classmates.
"Listen, we’re not agreeing to any of that. Besides, we didn’t start this fight," Fang Haoran said firmly.
"We were just walking down the street when your guy picked a fight with us. We only defended ourselves."
"Yeah, it was self-defense!" the others chimed in.
Fang Haoran was telling the truth. They had been chatting happily on their way back when, out of nowhere, this guy with dyed hair had provoked them. Words were exchanged, and things escalated until they ended up beating him up.
As a result, that punk made a call and brought in this gang of street thugs.
