On the other side.
Ding Yingyao glanced at his wristwatch—it was about time to make his appearance.
The brand representatives had been anxiously waiting, bombarding him with messages urging him to hurry.
Taking a deep breath, Ding Yingyao quickly adjusted his demeanor, instantly switching to an expression of shock mixed with concern as he stepped out of the car.
Nearby, sharp-eyed fans immediately recognized him and erupted into screams: "It's Brother Yao! Brother Yao is here!"
"Brother Yao's here! Everyone, stop!" Voices rang out from the crowd—clearly planted individuals wearing headphones—shouting loudly.
The previously furious crowd miraculously quieted down, surging toward Ding Yingyao upon hearing the calls.
"Brother Yao!"
"Brother Yao!"
"Ahhh!!! Brother Yao!"
"..."
Surrounded by fans, Ding Yingyao struggled to make his way toward the stage in front of the supermarket.
Along the way, he was "accidentally" jostled by the crowd, yet he maintained a gentle smile, even apologizing to the fan who bumped into him.
He then bent down to pick up the hat the fan had dropped, dusted it off tenderly, signed it carefully, and placed it back on the fan's head.
The lucky fan flushed crimson, overwhelmed with joy, silently vowing to treasure this hat forever—after all, it bore Brother Yao's personal signature!
This heartwarming display of fan affection was also captured by the reporters' cameras.
"Oh my god, Brother Yao is so gentle!"
"Comparison is the thief of joy—look at Ding Yingyao, such a down-to-earth star who genuinely adores his fans."
"Who wouldn’t love an idol like this? No wonder he’s so popular!"
"..."
Once on stage, Ding Yingyao began his performance.
"Please, everyone, stay calm! I understand your anger, but violence is never the solution!"
"In a society governed by law, we must defend our rights the right way. Whatever difficulties you face, I, Ding Yingyao, will fight for justice on your behalf!"
"..."
He delivered many such words—filled with responsibility and positivity.
Finally, he discreetly signaled his assistant.
"Brother Yao! You must stand up for us!" A voice suddenly wailed from the crowd.
A "victim" stepped onto the stage, tearfully recounting their grievances: "Wanlong Supermarket sold expired food, poisoning my family and sending them to the hospital. They even sent thugs to threaten and beat us..."
Once the "victim" finished their emotional plea, Ding Yingyao wore a pained expression, declaring indignantly, "As a public figure, I will never tolerate such oppression! Wanlong Supermarket must be held accountable—"
Suddenly, a voice from the crowd cut him off: "Accountability is here!"
At that moment.
A dense wave of footsteps echoed from the distance. Then, everyone saw a dark tide of figures flooding in from all directions.
Rows of black suits, polished shoes thudding against the asphalt, sent low, resonant tremors through the ground.
Instantly, the temperature on the commercial street seemed to drop another ten degrees.
Almost everyone’s mind flashed to the same image—the iconic axe gang scene from movies.
Now, it had materialized in real life.
A sharp gust of wind swept through.
The crowd, including Ding Yingyao on stage, shivered involuntarily.
Wait—
This was really the Wanlong Society?
Ding Yingyao had known Wanlong Society was the largest gang in the university district, but he’d assumed they were just a bunch of colorfully-haired delinquents.
Now, witnessing this spectacle, he realized how terribly wrong he’d been.
Holy hell, this was terrifying!
Amid the sea of black suits, thirty or forty men carried eighteen massive oxhide drums, their surfaces painted with golden, snarling dragon totems.
"Boom—"
The first drumbeat shook the ground, sending a jolt through the spectators' hearts.
"Boom—"
The second startled every sparrow perched on trees and power lines, sending them fleeing into the sky.
When the third drumblast erupted like thunder—
Ding Yingyao stumbled back, his heel hitting the stage’s speakers.
The fans below fell silent as if their voices had been strangled mid-squawk.
At the intersection, a luxury car appeared.
A Maybach 62S with the license plate "11111" rolled forward slowly.
With every few meters it advanced, black-suited men bowed in reverence.
When the Maybach halted directly in front of the supermarket, all eyes were drawn to it.
"Welcome, Young Miss!"
Around three hundred voices roared in unison, shaking the air.
The car door opened.
A girl with her hair elegantly coiled, dressed in a dark Chinese-style ensemble, stepped out gracefully.
Her outfit, unusually devoid of dragon motifs, featured delicate bamboo leaf embroidery along the collar and skirt. Paired with her traditional updo and flawless makeup, she embodied the refined elegance of an Eastern noblewoman.
Her innate air of nobility instantly made her the center of attention.
"Young Miss!"
The three hundred men lowered their heads in unison, their voices subdued yet still thunderous.
The girl didn’t rush forward. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her sharp gaze locking onto Ding Yingyao standing on the neighboring supermarket stage.
Her lips parted, her voice soft but each word dripping with ice.
"Disrupting my turf?"
Ding Yingyao, who’d prioritized style over warmth in his thin suit (and forgotten his heat patches), broke into a cold sweat.
This was his second time meeting Liu Yutong, but the aura she exuded now was worlds apart from their encounter at the university.
Even her presence felt entirely different.
Honestly, he was starting to regret this.
But there was no turning back now.
She finally moved.
Her boots struck the ground, each step crisp, cold, and inexorable—like a drumbeat against everyone’s hearts.
Behind her, a retinue of black-suited men followed, amplifying her commanding presence.
Stopping before the stage, she snapped her fingers lightly.
Yun Cheng understood immediately, gesturing for seven or eight men to leap onto the stage. Under the crowd’s stunned gaze, they dragged the celebrity Ding Yingyao down unceremoniously.
The once-glamorous star now wore nothing but terror.
"I was wrong, I was wrong!"
"I’ll compensate for all the losses! I’ll pay—"
Ding Yingyao’s pleas cut off abruptly.
Liu Yutong’s fingertip pressed lightly against his throat.
Her nails were perfectly manicured, painted a deep red, elegant yet ominous.
The seemingly casual touch froze Ding Yingyao rigid—he didn’t even dare swallow.
"Wrong?"
Liu Yutong's voice was so soft only the two of them could hear: "When Mr. Ding hired people to attack my supermarket and tried to pin the blame on the Wanlong Society, did it ever cross your mind that you might be wrong?"
"Ding... Miss Liu, this is all a misunderstanding! I... I had no idea things would escalate like this!" Ding Yingyao stammered in panic.
Liu Yutong withdrew her hand. "Oh? Is that so? You truly knew nothing?"
Ding Yingyao shook his head frantically. "I swear I knew nothing, nothing at all! I’ll apologize publicly! Please, give me another chance—"
"Liar!"
Her eyes brimmed with scorn. "The last time we met, I already gave you one chance."
"Mr. Ding, when you orchestrated this farce, you should have anticipated the consequences."
With a wave of her hand, she commanded coldly, "Take him away. Execute him."
................
The earliest version of the cover art, previously used by the author, can finally be included as an illustration now.
