Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

Yang Ce was in fact also taking this chance to show Zhang Bin, before his very eyes, just what kind of power he wielded in Songjiang. Nor could such things be kept from Zhang Bin forever. Having decided to tell him, he ought to give him a little advance warning.

Bao Lin immediately understood Yang Ce's meaning: Yang Ce was none too pleased with this Yuan Gangyi either and wanted to teach him a lesson. Bao Lin nodded and took out his phone to make a call.

"Boss, Yuan Gangyi looks like he's calling in people. We—" Zhang Bin, not knowing who Bao Lin really was, sounded uneasy.

"Relax. He's calling his people—can't we call ours?" Yang Hengye said. "Just sit back and enjoy the show. But don't say I didn't save face for your old middle-school classmate."

If only he hadn't brought it up—the very mention sent Zhang Bin into a fury. "Save face for him? Screw that. What kind of piece of work treats an old classmate like this? I'm furious."

Probably because Yuan Gangyi had made the first call, it wasn't long before four or five burly thugs arrived. Seeing them, Yuan Gangyi hurried out of his car and greeted the one who seemed to be the leader. "Brother Toad, look—my car got scraped right here, and the guy's been giving me attitude. Have a look."

"Oh? Which car?" The man they called Brother Toad lifted his head and pointed at the Jinbei van beside them. "You mean this Jinbei van?"

"Yes, that's the one," Yuan Gangyi said with a nod.

Brother Toad waved a hand, and he and the other thugs walked over to the Jinbei van. Then he reached out and pounded hard on the window. "You in there—get out, now. Hurry up."

Bao Lin glanced at Yang Ce. When Yang Minlan nodded, Bao Lin frowned and pushed the door open. "You lot—who do you run with?"

Bao Lin wasn't sure whether these small-time thugs would recognize him, but most of the underworld in Songjiang answered to his men, so he asked them straight out who they ran with.

Bao Lin didn't know them, but there was no way they wouldn't know Bao Lin. The moment the door opened, Brother Toad was about to lunge in and grab someone—only to see the boss of his boss's boss poking his head out. He was scared half to death, frozen stiff below the van, at a total loss for what to do.

To be continued.

887. The Driver's No Slouch Either

887. The Driver's No Slouch Either. "Brother Toad, what are you doing?" One of his men, about to follow Brother Toad in to grab someone, saw him standing frozen at the van door and asked, puzzled, "Go on, grab him!"

"Grab—grab your ass!" Brother Toad finally snapped out of it. He turned his head and glared at his subordinate. "Hurry up and call Brother Bao!" Then he whipped back around and said respectfully to Bao Lin, "Brother Bao, I run with Brother Niu—from Didi Bar."

Bao Lin naturally had no idea who Brother Niu was; that sort of small business was handled by the men at the security company these days. He gave an offhand nod and asked Brother Toad, "That guy over there called you here?"

"Yes, yes." Brother Toad didn't dare lie. "Yuan Gangyi called me over. But if I'd known you were here, Brother Bao, I'd never have come."

"Enough, cut the crap. Tell me—what does Yuan Gangyi do?" Bao Lin wanted to sound out Yuan Gangyi's background first. He had little to fear from anyone in Songjiang, but it wouldn't do to rough up somebody important by mistake.

"Yuan Gangyi handles ad sales for the Songjiang City Daily," Brother Toad said. "He's got money on hand and often brings clients to Didi Bar to throw it around, so we know him pretty well. Whenever he runs into trouble, he comes to us to sort it out. We've taken plenty of tips off him over the years, so when he needs a hand, we can hardly refuse."

"So he really is a reporter?" Bao Lin frowned. He'd seen that 'Press Interview' pass on the man's car and assumed it was a bluff.

"Not a reporter exactly—just someone the paper's ad department hired to drum up business," Brother Toad answered truthfully.

"Oh. So that pass on his car is genuine?" Bao Lin asked with a nod.

"Genuine? The only genuine ones are on the paper's couple of actual press cars. His was copied from one of those and made up at a print shop on the street for a fee." Brother Toad grinned. "Brother Bao, you want one made too?"

"What would I want with that thing?" Bao Lin waved a hand. "Do I look like a reporter to you?"

"No, no, Brother Bao—I just thought you might want one," Brother Toad said, scratching his head.

Bao Lin was caught between laughter and exasperation. Yuan Gangyi really was a piece of work—brazen enough to wave around a fake press pass with such righteous confidence. That took some nerve, in its own way.

Meanwhile, Yuan Gangyi sat in his Passat, waiting for the moment the people in the Jinbei van would kneel and beg for mercy. After failing to get into high school, he'd knocked around in society for a few years and made something of a name for himself. Now he sold ads for the Songjiang City Daily and pulled in tens of thousands a month in commission—a real hotshot, by his own reckoning.

He'd bought the car just last year, then quietly borrowed a press pass from the paper's driver and had a fake made at a print shop nearby, displaying it on his car with a fine show of authenticity.

And wouldn't you know it—after racking up a few traffic violations, Yuan Gangyi found the pass actually worked. The traffic cops on the road really did show him respect, usually waving him through. Only once, turning left where left turns weren't allowed, was he pulled over. He made the excuse that he was from the paper and rushing to cover a news scene; the officer said nothing and simply let him go. After that, Yuan Gangyi began to grow rather full of himself, genuinely believing he was somebody.

Especially since the start of the year, when he'd gotten to know a few friends about town—Brother Toad here, for instance, was a man of the underworld who could smooth over plenty of trouble for him. Yuan Gangyi even began to think there was nothing in Songjiang he couldn't handle—that he was practically omnipotent.

So, with his self-confidence swollen to bursting, he didn't give a damn about Bao Lin, the driver of a Jinbei van—and as for his old middle-school classmate Zhang Bin, he held him in utter contempt. So you got into university—so what? I didn't, and I'm doing just fine, aren't I?

When the time came for Zhang Bin to come begging to him, he'd toss in a few more jabs, then do him a favor—a hundred thousand yuan, say. Have him cough up a hundred thousand, and the matter would be settled.

But after waiting a good while, the scene he'd anticipated never came. Yuan Gangyi grew impatient and got out of the car himself. He had just shut the door when three Jinbei vans suddenly pulled up at the roadside and boxed his car in.

As Yuan Gangyi was wondering what was going on, the doors of the Jinbei vans all swung open and out jumped more than a dozen men in neat black clothes. These men were plainly in a different league from the Brother Toads he'd called in—if these were a regular army, the ones he'd summoned were little better than a band of knockoff militiamen.

Seeing his men arrive, Bao Lin brushed past Brother Toad and jumped down from the van. The men in black snapped to attention and bowed in unison. "Brother Bao!"

Bao Lin pointed at Yuan Gangyi, standing by his Passat, and said mildly, "That's him. Don't kill him."

"Yes, sir!" the men in black answered in unison.

"And what about us?" Brother Toad stood beside Bao Lin with a woebegone look, unsure how Bao Lin would punish him.

Bao Lin was not so petty, and these men had little to do with it anyway. He looked at his own van, wedged in the middle, then said to Brother Toad, "You—come help me move the luggage. I'm switching cars."