Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

"That had better be the case. Otherwise, when the time comes, I won't be pulling any strings for you," Xia Xue said, glaring at Yang Puqi.

Yang Jiyan was utterly unconcerned. A man like Brother Ma would never call the police—and even if he wanted to, his boss would never allow it. If word got out that they had been obstructed and doused with oil, it would put enormous pressure on the demolition work. The relevant authorities might even launch full oversight of the whole process, and then it would be they themselves who suffered for it.

So they would have to swallow this bitter pill in silence and, if they wanted revenge, take it in private. Yang Ce was not worried in the least that they might go after Xia Xue. Even if they found her, what of it?

They wouldn't dare make trouble at a police station even with a hundred times the nerve—that would be assaulting an officer. However fierce the demolition company's boss might be, he would never dare do such a thing.

"Sorry about that, boss—I knocked over your oil. How much was it? Let me pay for it," Yang Ce said, turning to the fried cake vendor.

"Pay for what, young man? What you just did was a joy to see!" The fried cake vendor waved his hand hurriedly. "I just didn't dare do it myself. If I weren't afraid they'd come after me, I'd have done it long ago."

"That doesn't seem right." Yang Ce could tell the vendor meant it sincerely. Clearly, these people were used to being bullied by the demolition company's men.

"What's not right about it? Here, young man, since you like fried cakes, let me pack you some more—the ones from before fell on the ground." The vendor handed Yang Puqi a bag of fried cakes. "You'd best get going. If they come back, you'll be in trouble."

Yang Ce had no choice but to take the cakes. Yet he was not afraid of any revenge that might come; it was just that with Xia Xue at his side, Yang Yongjin might well do as he pleased and beat these men to death. And then Xia Xue would certainly step in.

At first Yang Ce had meant to use this incident as an excuse to turn this demolition company upside down, or at the very least force them to appraise Lin Yanhe's family home at a hundred times its value. But now it seemed he would have to wait for another opportunity.

He got into the car with Xia Xue and they slowly left the shantytown. Yang Ce dropped Xia Xue off at the door of the police station, then handed her the fried cakes. "Take them. It's a token of the vendor's goodwill."

"Hmph, don't get so full of yourself. Anyone would think you're the only hero around here," Xia Xue said, taking the cakes, her tone somewhat stern. "Yang Ce, stop stirring up trouble all the time. Not everything has to be solved with violence. Can't you think about the people around you when you do things? If you went to prison for intentional injury, how heartbroken Chen Shutang and Lin Yanhe would be!"

"And wouldn't you be heartbroken?" Yang Ce teased, looking at Xia Xue's vexed expression.

"Why would I be heartbroken? I'd just have lost my meal ticket, that's all." Xia Xue gave a huff and turned toward the police station, but after a few steps she turned back. "No—I had such a hard time finding a meal ticket. How can I let it slip away so easily?"

Yang Ce rubbed his chin. Was he really nothing more than a meal ticket to her? He truly could not figure out what went on in Xia Xue's head.

Yang Ce's guess had been right. Brother Ma had indeed not called the police.

On the thirtieth floor of a luxury tower in the south of Songjiang City, a slightly paunchy middle-aged man sat in his executive chair flirting with a sultry female secretary when a knock came at the door.

The middle-aged man released the secretary from his arms, gestured for her to answer the door, and casually picked up a document from the desk to read.

"President Wei." It was the general manager's assistant, the middle-aged man's own trusted man, Zhou Xiaoming.

Seeing that it was Zhou Xiaoming, the secretary closed the door and settled back into the lap of the middle-aged man known as President Wei.

President Wei's full name was Wei Dekang, chairman and general manager of Dekang Real Estate Development Co., Ltd., and a man of considerable renown in Songjiang's real estate circles. After years of growth, Dekang Real Estate had become the industry leader second only to Xinheng Real Estate.

This time, with the development of the shantytown land, Wei Dekang immediately felt his opportunity had come. The upscale residential district in the development zone beside the shantytown had been built by Xinheng Real Estate and had already become a landmark of Songjiang's wealthy quarter.

Now the shantytown and the development zone faced each other across a distance of mere hundreds of meters, and he was confident that with the right handling he could create a second development zone.

So Wei Dekang valued this opportunity above all others. If the development truly succeeded, his company's strength would leap to another level entirely, and he would have the capital to contend with Xinheng Real Estate.

Otherwise he would remain a step behind Xinheng Real Estate year after year, and that galled Wei Dekang to no end.

"What is it?" Wei Dekang looked up at his trusted man, Zhou Xiaoming.

"President Wei, something's happened on Crazy Ma's end." Zhou Xiaoming's expression was grave.

"What's happened to Crazy Ma?" Hearing it was about Crazy Ma, Wei Dekang relaxed at once—what trouble could Crazy Ma possibly get into beyond beating someone up? So he asked, "Who did he beat this time?"

"President Wei, it's not that he beat someone—it's that someone beat him. They threw a pot of hot oil on him. The skin of his face is scorched through, and he's lying in the First People's Hospital right now," Zhou Xiaoming said.

"What?" Wei Dekang's brow furrowed, and he cursed inwardly. This Crazy Ma—always making trouble for him at the worst possible moment. The demolition work wasn't even sorted out yet, and now he'd gone and gotten himself beaten. Still, Wei Dekang had long held high office and possessed the shrewdness that came with it. "What exactly happened?"

"It's like this—Crazy Ma took his men to the shantytown to handle the demolition registration..." Zhou Xiaoming recounted the whole course of events to Wei Dekang.

"Damn it!" Wei Dekang could contain himself no longer and cursed viciously. "Is his head full of water? What business did he have provoking those diners? He deserved the beating—better if they'd beaten him to death!"

Wei Dekang was furious. If the man had actually brawled with the residents being evicted, that would have been understandable—but what was the point of picking a fight with some customer at a roadside stall? What the hell did that have to do with him?

"President Wei, what do we do now? Crazy Ma's boys are working themselves up for revenge. What do you think?" Zhou Xiaoming asked Wei Dekang.

"Let them have their revenge, but whatever they do, don't let it blow up. And absolutely no calling the police—if word gets out, it'll be a mess," Wei Dekang said. "Those reporters could turn white into black. Next thing you know they'll be saying we were beaten because of the demolition, and once it draws attention, we're done for."

"Yes, I understand." Zhou Xiaoming nodded. "I'll go tell Crazy Ma right away—keep it low-key, and whatever happens, don't let it drag the company into it."

"En, that's the idea." Wei Dekang said, "This Crazy Ma—nothing but worry. Here's what we'll do, Xiaoming: from today on, you're in charge of the demolition company. Let Crazy Ma rest up and recover."