Fang Chi had been squatting outside Sun Wenqu’s house since dinner, nearly two hours now, and finally understood why Fang Ying always said “go at night” whenever she asked him to look for Sun Wenqu.
A pampered playboy like this, who’d just been dumped back from spending years loafing in the mountains, no way he’d be home at this hour, he’d definitely be out wasting time. Whether he even came back at night was questionable.
Fang Chi stood, lowered the music in his earphones, and walked out the back gate of the compound. He needed food again, hungry.
The weather wasn’t cold, just cool, but it was already that season where night fell and your stomach started growling, then two hours later you were hungry all over again.
He grabbed a quick bowl of noodles at a street stall, then strolled back into the compound and squatted in the little garden across from Sun Wenqu’s place.
Honestly, the whole thing was a pain. He’d planned to go home, read, maybe do some problems. Instead, here he was, lying in wait like some thief, waiting for a scumbag.
But since he’d already come, if he left now, he’d just have to come again tomorrow.
Why Fang Ying was short on money, why it was so urgent, she never said. She only told him plenty about Sun Wenqu’s betrayals. Fang Chi didn’t bother asking more. Just for Little Guo’s sake, just because Fang Ying had looked after him for years without fault, he gritted his teeth and helped.
Even if the guy was trash, there must’ve been some messy past with Fang Ying. But asking for money this way, pretty humiliating.
After-dinner walkers in the compound thinned out around this hour.
The neighborhood was actually nice for strolling: good greenery, smooth flat paths, even the bench under him was clean. Compared to the dump where he rented, no wonder Chief Huang would rather face the same unappetizing kibble every day than go outside wandering.
Each time a passerby’s shadow stretched across the streetlamp light, Fang Chi stared to check, but none were Sun Wenqu.
Where the hell had that b*stard gone?
His phone chirped. Class group chat.
-Fang Chi here?
-Yo, missing him again?
-Shut it, just asking if he’s playing ball tomorrow.
-Call him, he’s not asleep yet.
-Don’t dare.
-What’s there not to dare? Can’t even make a call, useless.
-[slap emoji] Exactly. Can’t even call your own gong.
Fang Chi scowled, quickly typed back: You sick or what?
The last girl sent a tongue-out emoji, then went quiet. Fang Chi shoved the phone back in his pocket without looking further.
His butt went numb from sitting. He stood, paced the path in front of Sun Wenqu’s house a few times, then stopped by the wall of the yard.
Phone pinged, found Wi-Fi.
The SSID read: “Kneel and kowtow to see password.” Fang Chi somehow just knew it must be Sun Wenqu’s.
He hesitated a few seconds, tapped it, password cracked instantly: 12345678.
What the h*ll was even the point of setting a password like that? Anyway, his data plan was running low, so he connected.
The router must’ve been deeper inside; only right up against the wall did he get signal. Couldn’t even turn around without losing it.
He sighed, pulled his cap low, pressed his forehead against the wall, opened a game, and played slowly.
When Sun Wenqu got out of the car, his steps felt floaty, vision spinning. Yeah, he’d had too much.
Just inside the compound, Li Bowen’s call came through: “Wenqu, home yet?”
“Mm.” Sun Wenqu grunted, walking slowly.
“I really didn’t mean anything tonight…” Li Bowen said.
“Enough, I don’t wanna talk,” Sun Wenqu cut him off with a scowl. “Don’t pull that dumb sh*t again, sick of it!”
“I… fine,” Li Bowen muttered. “Then rest early.”
Sun Wenqu hung up without replying.
Since he’d been back these two days, he barely stayed home at all. His friends seemed intent on making up for the lost three years, dragging him around nonstop drinking and eating.
This was the life he was used to, and his mood had been okay.
Tonight they were drinking at Li Bowen’s bar, but halfway through, Li Bowen suddenly brought in some young guy, didn’t say much, just sat him right next to Sun Wenqu.
Sun Wenqu got the hint immediately. Normally, he wouldn’t get angry over this, after a few drinks he might’ve even copped a feel.
But this one looked more like a son than that “son” Fang Ying had shoved at him. And the look on Li Bowen’s face, we all know what this is, felt like swallowing a basin of sh*t.
He’d already been annoyed with Li Bowen at the outdoor club earlier. He hadn’t even asked yet how Fang Ying knew the exact timing of his return. Now this cr*p? He smashed his glass, stood up, and left without a word.
Idiot.
Sun Wenqu kicked a lamppost, boot ringing, his body staggering. Dizzy.
In the corner of his vision, a dark shape moved. He jumped, at this hour, the compound should’ve been empty. And the shadow was right outside his wall.
Seeing it was someone standing face-to-wall against his yard made him tense up more. “Who!”
First thought: someone Fang Ying sent. She wasn’t the type to start something then let it drop. He’d been wondering why she hadn’t made another move these past couple days.
“Me.” The figure turned. The shadowed face lit by the streetlamp: Fang Chi.
“Well, well. My dear son. What the h*ll are you doing?” Sun Wenqu squinted at him, half-surprised, half-expecting it.
Fang Chi stared back, as if pondering why he’d been pressed against the wall. After a pause he said: “Peeing.”
“…What?” Sun Wenqu wondered if he really was drunk.
Fang Chi didn’t answer. He just watched him, then tilted his head slightly to glance around.
The silence dragged, weird and heavy. Just as Sun Wenqu decided to cut it short and go inside, Fang Chi suddenly lunged forward.
Next thing, Sun Wenqu felt a hard grip at his collar, his already-spinning head slamming with vertigo. In seconds, Fang Chi had him pinned against the wall.
“What the h*ll?” Sun Wenqu scowled, face-to-face with him again.
“I hate three kinds of people,” Fang Chi said low, eyes locked on him. “One, playboys like you. Two, b*stards who hit women like you. Three, people like you who…”
He stopped halfway.
Sun Wenqu narrowed his eyes, mouth curling: “…people like me who are gay?”
Fang Chi said nothing.
Sun Wenqu let it drop. He might be tipsy, but not that far gone. Playboy? Sure. Gay? Whatever. But hitting women? No way. Nearly thirty years, and he’d never raised a hand to one. That was the baseline, even when he still had interest in them.
“Which woman did I hit?” he asked, gaze sharp down Fang Chi’s straight nose.
Now Fang Chi squinted, disdain burning even through the backlight: “Still playing dumb?”
That “still” sent Sun Wenqu’s already foul mood straight off a cliff.
So they weren’t just trying to shake him down with some half-baked scam, now they were forcing the plot forward with fake charges?
He looked at the athletic little pretty boy in front of him, should’ve been exactly his type, and felt only boiling irritation. He clicked his tongue: “What, trying to say I hit Fang Ying?”
“…Didn’t you?” Fang Chi’s voice dropped, grip loosening slightly, doubt flickering.
“No.” Sun Wenqu arched a brow. “I hit her. Real hard. Slaps, kicks, whole set of military drills, then…”
He didn’t finish. A sudden blow to the gut doubled him over. Agony rolled through his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.
He hadn’t even seen Fang Chi move. Just like that, he was kneeling on the ground, hand braced against the pavement, the world tilting.
Son beating father. What a joke.
Fang Chi hadn’t even used full force. He knew what his punch could do, so he’d only thrown it casually. Enough to hurt, not to break.
Even so, Sun Wenqu collapsing like that surprised him, he’d only expected him to hunch and clutch his stomach, not drop to his knees. His plan to kick him down completely stalled.
He hesitated, debating whether to curse him out or demand answers, when Sun Wenqu suddenly puked.
“…Huh?”
First time a punch had ever made someone vomit on him.
Fang Chi instinctively stepped back.
Sun Wenqu retched twice, hands shaking against the ground, face pale under the lights. Fang Chi finally stepped closer, a flicker of concern: “Are you…”
“Bad*ss,” Sun Wenqu rasped, yanking at Fang Chi’s pants leg. “F*ck you… even scammers come with combat skills now…”
Before Fang Chi could react, Sun Wenqu heaved himself up by grabbing his pants, whether deliberate or not, and yanked them halfway down.
“Hey!” Fang Chi yelped, hopping back and clutching at his waistband. “What the h*ll’s wrong with you!”
Without support, Sun Wenqu fell back onto the ground, then slid down against the wall, clutching his stomach in silence, brows knitted tight.
Fang Chi looked at him.
The reek of alcohol was thick. And under the streetlight, drunk or not, Sun Wenqu’s face was pale and ugly.
The whole scene left Fang Chi with a weird feeling.
The compound was deserted now. Just the two of them, one standing, one slumped, under the lamplight in silence.
And Fang Chi had no idea how he was supposed to ask for money in this state.
“Tonight was just to give you a lesson…” He pointed at Sun Wenqu, faltered, jabbed his finger twice more, then turned and left. He couldn’t go through with it. Couldn’t stand another second there.
“Hey.” Sun Wenqu spoke, followed by the sound of something dropping to the floor.
Fang Chi turned his head and saw a black leather pouch by his feet.
“Take the hard-work fee yourself,” Sun Wenqu muttered, his face still deathly pale. “Help me inside.”
Fang Chi hesitated between the pouch on the ground and Sun Wenqu’s ashen face for half a minute before finally picking it up.
He opened it, aside from all kinds of cards, there was a thick wad of cash. Couldn’t tell how much, but clearly more than what Fang Ying had gotten in that envelope the other day.
He bit his lip, pulled the money out without even counting, shoved it all into his pocket, then tugged open Sun Wenqu’s coat and stuffed the pouch back into his arms.
Whatever Fang Ying still lacked, he didn’t want to keep this mess going. At first, he’d thought the guy was just scum and that teaching him a lesson was like doing justice. But now? Forget continuing, even after just two rounds, he already felt humiliated enough.
Sun Wenqu tossed him a set of keys. He looked badly out of it; the throw was so off that, if Fang Chi hadn’t reacted fast, the keys would’ve landed right in the vomit on the ground.
“Can you stand properly?” Fang Chi held back his disgust as he hauled him up, Sun Wenqu swayed several times and still couldn’t steady himself.
“If I could, what would I need you for?” Sun Wenqu frowned.
He unlocked the gate, dragged Sun Wenqu into the yard, then opened the door and dragged him inside the house…
Sun Wenqu looked lean and tall, shouldn’t have weighed much. But after wrestling him for those minutes, Fang Chi felt like he’d dragged a slaughtered pig back from the market.
The house was pitch-dark. Fang Chi fumbled along the wall for a long while but couldn’t find a switch. He shook Sun Wenqu: “Where’s the light?”
No answer. After a while, Sun Wenqu leaned against the wall, gave a faint laugh: “Having a son’s not bad…”
“I asked you where the light is!” Fang Chi let go, deciding he was fine enough.
Just as he was about to open the door and leave, his *ss was suddenly smacked. Before he even processed it, Sun Wenqu grabbed his butt, and then came the sound of clothes scraping the wall as Sun Wenqu collapsed sideways.
“Nice *ss.” His voice came from the dark, drunk, taunting.
At that instant, Fang Chi felt like a whole reservoir of emotions flooded him, anger flaring hot.
He didn’t say a word. He just kicked toward the voice.
The kick landed solidly, he didn’t know where, but Sun Wenqu gave a muffled groan.
Fang Chi yanked the door open. As he stepped out, his shoulder slammed the doorframe, the pain almost making him cry out. With a loud bang, he flung the door shut behind him.
Sun Wenqu lay on the sofa, clutching his leg, laughing for a long time before stopping. He wanted to shower, but the dizziness was brutal, and the gut-punch from Fang Chi still hadn’t faded, pain, nausea.
After a few minutes lying there, he decided not to move. His brain was a mess of static, his vision flashing and glittering. Might as well just lie still.
He had one bad habit with drinking: he couldn’t vomit. If he did, the headache afterward split his skull open.
The moment Fang Chi’s punch made him retch, he knew he was screwed. Sure enough, the migraine hit him hard, leaving him half-conscious.
When he woke the next day, it was already noon. Bright sunlight poured over the curtains. He was still sprawled on the sofa in the same position, one leg dangling off, and when he opened his eyes, all he felt was dizziness, and the pounding headache.
Sleeping hadn’t eased it at all.
With effort, he sat up, tried to stand, then sighed at the sight of the carpet in front of the sofa, he’d thrown up again sometime in the night, without even knowing.
Frowning, he patted himself down until he found his phone. He dialed the housekeeping number Ma Liang had given him, asking someone to come clean the place.
After hanging up, he tried standing again. His left calf hurt, wouldn’t take weight, he collapsed back on the sofa, stunned, trying to recall what the h*ll he’d done last night.
He struggled to remember for a few minutes, then leaned back, closed his eyes, and muttered under his breath: “F*ck.”
Then something came to mind. He groped around, found the pouch stuffed inside his clothes, opened it, and chuckled, Fang Chi hadn’t taken everything, there was still some left.
“Kid really dared to take it.” Sun Wenqu tossed the pouch onto the sofa.
—
Sunday. No extra classes, but plenty of students in the classroom, all buried in books.
Fang Chi lay on his desk, an unfinished exam sheet under his chin. His pen had been frozen in mid-stroke for ages.
He wanted to sleep. But couldn’t.
The classroom was noisy, not just from reading but chatting too. Behind him, a group had been talking for half the period, planning a trip for next summer vacation.
“We could go for a few days, a week maybe?” a girl said.
“Beach or mountains?” another asked.
“Beach is too hot, better the mountains… Hey, Xiao Yiming, why don’t you ask Fang Chi,” this one was Lin Wei, “he sometimes works as a guide, right? You could ask him, maybe smooth things out between you two…”
The moment Fang Chi heard Lin Wei’s voice, irritation surged. He had the urge to slam a book in her face.
“Don’t drag me into it,” Xiao Yiming muttered.
“You’re the reason their relationship’s bad,” Liang Xiaotao complained. “Always pushing them together.”
“I push? It’s because Xiao Yiming likes him, I…”
Fang Chi suddenly stood. His chair screeched back, bumping the desk behind, making everyone turn their heads.
He glared coldly at them, silent. Xiao Yiming looked embarrassed, turned his face away.
“What’s your problem,” maybe because she’d been embarrassed online yesterday, Lin Wei tossed her book on the desk and muttered, “Homophobic? Homophobic means deep…”
Before she could finish, Fang Chi snatched up his deskmate’s stack of books and slammed them onto her desk.
“Stupid b*tch.” He walked out of the classroom.
—
On the court, a few guys were playing basketball. Fang Chi sat in the bleachers, staring blankly.
When his phone rang, he only noticed because the ball rolled to his feet and the players shouted, “Fang Chi, throw it back!”
He stood, grabbed the ball, tossed it back while pulling out his phone.
The call was from Fang Ying. He had just picked up when her anxious voice came through: “Are you home? I’m coming over!”
“No,” Fang Chi’s gut sank, her tone meant trouble. Whatever it was, he couldn’t let her come to his place. “Where are you? What happened?”
“I’m at home.” Her voice trembled, like she was walking fast. “I need to take Little Guo to Mom’s… Do you have money? Anything, any amount!”
“…A little.” Fang Chi frowned. The cash he’d taken from Sun Wenqu last night was still stuffed in an envelope in his pocket. He hadn’t counted it, didn’t want to, money gotten that way made him feel dirty. “What’s going on? Shouldn’t you call the police?”
“Police won’t help!” Fang Ying suddenly screamed, then switched to pleading: “Just bring me some money, bring it over now…”
Fang Chi hesitated. “I’ll come.”
“If I’m not home, go to my Mom’s and find me!” she said, then hurriedly hung up.
Can’t wait until next week to see more? Want to show your support? Come to my Patreon where you can get 5 or more chapters of The Reincarnation of a Powerful Minister right away ! Or go donate at Paypal or Ko-fi to show your appreciation! :)
