Deng Zheyan knew full well that the first condition was impossible for him to fulfill. After all, he had already inquired through his aunt and uncle—his cousin’s case was practically airtight. Unless he had some extraordinary connections, there was no way to get her out of prison.
Truth be told, while his family was relatively well-off, they were merely comfortably wealthy. They had no ties to anyone with high-ranking official influence.
So, he had no choice but to go with the second condition.
Deng Zheyan was a cautious man by nature, never one to act recklessly.
In this day and age, someone who could casually fork over 280,000 yuan to buy a restaurant was a rare sight. Plus, when the lawyer had come to his uncle to sign the contract, he’d been accompanied by a burly, street-smart-looking guy—clearly no ordinary person.
Naturally, Deng Zheyan wasn’t about to stir up trouble at the restaurant blindly.
In the end, he spent 2,000 yuan to buy a piece of information from a white-haired informant.
To be precise, there were two pieces of intel to choose from.
The white-haired guy had been at the internet café when he overheard Deng Zheyan looking for people to cause trouble at Yuyuefang. He’d approached him, offering to provide "intelligence support."
This was the first time Deng Zheyan had heard of information brokers in this backwater town called Wushui County.
Cautious by nature, he asked a few probing questions. To his surprise, the sly-eyed white-haired guy actually gave him some useful details.
Convinced the guy wasn’t a scammer, Deng Zheyan decided to pay for the information.
But the price was absurdly high—2,000 yuan, even 10,000 yuan for the "premium" option.
One piece of intel was from a month ago, the other was more recent.
The white-haired guy even had the nerve to say, "You get what you pay for."
Deng Zheyan brushed off the warning. His first thought was that this guy was trying to rip him off.
"What?! 10,000 yuan for one piece of info? You think I’m some rich pretty boy or something?"
"Aren’t you?" the white-haired guy shot back with a smirk.
"You—" Deng Zheyan hated insincere flattery more than anything. He believed people should be honest with each other, not resort to empty praise.
"I’ll take it!"
In the end, he paid 2,000 yuan for the cheaper option.
But when he unfolded the slip of paper, all he saw were eight words:
"Just a country girl. Nothing to worry about."
Deng Zheyan stared at those eight characters, his first thought being: Damn it, I want a refund!
2,000 yuan for this half-assed line?
He felt utterly played.
By the time he looked up, the white-haired guy had already vanished into the smoky haze of the internet café.
Left with no choice, Deng Zheyan had to swallow the loss.
Though the intel made him feel scammed, it at least confirmed his earlier suspicion—the restaurant owner really had no powerful backing.
Now that he knew she was no threat, Deng Zheyan saw no reason to hold back. He started causing trouble at the restaurant with his crew.
The first time, he deliberately smashed a few plates. The owner never showed up.
The waitresses just frowned, quietly cleaned up the mess, and didn’t say a word or confront him.
What he didn’t know was that the owner was busy studying for an exam and had instructed her staff to tolerate difficult customers.
The second time, Deng Zheyan went even further.
Emboldened by the first incident, he was now convinced the owner was a pushover with no connections. Plus, with over a dozen thugs backing him up, he was sure no one would dare touch him.
This time, he didn’t just flip tables—he scared off the diners and loudly demanded compensation, claiming he’d found a hair in his food.
The staff were furious, but when they saw the gang of armed thugs, they had no choice but to bite their tongues.
"Don’t act rashly. Wait for the boss to handle this…"
Their reaction only made Deng Zheyan smirk harder.
He swaggered to the center of the dining area, plopped onto a chair, crossed his legs, and stared at them with pure provocation.
"Fine, I’ll wait for your boss. Let’s see what she can do to me with Brother Erkun here."
"If you don’t pay up today, this place isn’t reopening!"
Meanwhile…
When Liu Yutong learned that Deng Zheyan was the one causing trouble, her expression turned uncharacteristically icy. A chilling aura flickered in her eyes.
In her past life, this scumbag had ruined her.
First, he sweet-talked his way into her heart, gained her trust, then exploited her internship at a prestigious law firm. One night, while she was working late, he showed up with takeout—only to secretly copy confidential litigation files she was handling.
The fallout was catastrophic. She was fired, slapped with a massive lawsuit, and with no way to prove her innocence, she was driven to suicide.
From start to finish, he’d played her like a fool.
Even in her final moments, he’d shown up with some flashy woman just to mock her.
Deng Zheyan was a master manipulator—self-absorbed, calculating, and a master of disguise.
Outwardly, he was warm, considerate, and loyal. In truth, he was emotionally barren, treating every woman he met as a pawn in his schemes.
Even a small-time lawyer like Liu Yutong had been nothing more than a disposable piece in his game, one that led to her destruction.
If there were two people she hated most in this world, Zhao Zhu and Deng Zheyan topped the list.
She’d just dealt with Zhao Zhu. Now, Deng Zheyan had the audacity to show up.
What a twisted coincidence.
As the saying goes—birds of a feather flock together.
In her past life, Liu Yutong had died without ever knowing Deng Zheyan was Zhao Zhu’s cousin.
Even if this version of Deng Zheyan wasn’t yet the cold, scheming monster who’d driven her to suicide, she had no intention of letting him off the hook.
This time, she’d make him pay.
Just as Liu Yutong left the restaurant with her group, a white-haired young man in a waiter’s disguise peeked out from the shadows.
His gaze locked onto her retreating figure, a glint of intrigue in his eyes.
"Well, well… Looks like the winds of change are blowing in Wushui County."
He pulled out his phone, typed rapidly—likely documenting something—his expression dripping with greed.
"Better keep tabs on this girl. Her intel’s gonna be worth a fortune."
