Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Master of Disguise in Women's Attire

Even if I lose my job today, I can’t let this go on—I can’t gamble away my entire future happiness.
“Boss, our manager has already been knocked out cold. Whatever you want us to do, just say the word. We’ll do exactly as you command.”
With both security team leaders already yielding, the rest of the squad had no choice but to follow suit.
No one wanted to lose their livelihood, but compared to their jobs, they were more concerned about their own well-being in the years to come.
This man—he played far too rough.
There’s a saying: ruthless men speak little.
It must have been made for someone like Fang Yuan.
After this brawl, they’d learned a valuable lesson: if they couldn’t be on the same side as this guy in the future, they’d better steer clear of him entirely. Otherwise, their lives might be at risk…
“Very well. In twenty minutes, assemble here. When you gather, I want you all dressed up—go all out, the more flamboyant, the better.”
Fang Yuan spoke coldly, his face unreadable.
At his words, the two team leaders exchanged a glance, immediately understanding.
So, this remarkable man is also fond of cross-dressing…
“Remember, the more flamboyant, the better.”
Seeing them hurry off, Fang Yuan couldn’t help but remind them once more.
“Fang Yuan, don’t be so pleased with yourself just yet. I’m telling you here and now, as long as you remain in this place, I’ll never let you live in peace.” Zheng Hao couldn’t accept such a defeat, especially seeing his own employees bowing and scraping before Fang Yuan. He couldn’t swallow his pride.
“All right then. Soon, I’ll show you what a real prank looks like. If you want to mess with me, you’d better learn from me first.”
His leg had been injured earlier, so Fang Yuan had to be careful now.
He’d taken the driver’s knife. Wearing long pants, he couldn’t tell how deep the wound was.
He pulled out the knife, preparing to cut open his trouser leg.
Zheng Hao saw Fang Yuan draw a knife and, thinking Fang Yuan meant to harm him, grew so frightened he could barely speak.
“Fang… Fang Yuan… I’m warning you, don’t do anything rash. I really will call the police.”
Fang Yuan couldn’t be bothered to answer him; he just cast a glance his way and, with a swift slice, cut a long gash in his pants.
Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep. Chong Chong had already sealed his meridians, so the bleeding had stopped. Still, the pale skin of his leg, slashed as it was, looked shocking.

Before long, the security guards returned, now flamboyantly dressed and standing before Fang Yuan.
One had to give Zheng Hao some credit: he was a meticulous and thorough boss. On the hotel’s first floor, there was a small shop selling things like nightgowns at steep prices.
The security guards had spared no expense, buying out nearly all the most eye-catching items in the shop to meet Fang Yuan’s demands.
If something didn’t fit, they simply tore it to make it even more… extravagant.
They’d even found lipstick somewhere and painted their own lips bright red. The sight was almost too much to bear.
“Boss, are you satisfied with how we look?”
The two team leaders were the boldest—they donned lace nightgowns and paired them with fishnet stockings.
It had to be said: years of martial arts had left these men with burly builds, so dressed like this…
“Not bad. Line them all up, and I’ll take a photo. Once that’s done, your task is complete.”
Fang Yuan pulled out his phone, preparing to take a group photo at the hotel entrance—a scene sure to draw attention.
“Fang Yuan, what are you trying to do?”
Zheng Hao had already guessed Fang Yuan’s intentions. This was a high-end private resort. If pictures like these got out, guests who valued privacy and good taste would never return.
“Exactly what you think. If you’re willing to bow your head and apologize, I might consider keeping these photos quietly on my phone,” Fang Yuan sneered.
The team leader, following Fang Yuan’s orders, immediately arranged the group as usual. Behind them, the hotel’s logo stood out like a beacon.
“Think of a pose—each of you has to show some individuality.”
Fang Yuan snapped a shot, but it wasn’t quite what he wanted; they were too stiff.
As team leaders, they understood people best.
The two exchanged a look, then, gritting their teeth, gave the command.
“At my signal—one, two, three.”
Click, click.
“Excellent. You may go.”
Fang Yuan glanced at the photo on his phone, thoroughly satisfied.

In the photo, every single one of them had their own unique style, flamboyant beyond compare.
And Zheng Hao had made a cameo appearance as well.
Noticing the mocking smile on Fang Yuan’s face, Zheng Hao twitched with anger.
What kind of person was this, to go to such lengths and remain so composed?
“Fang Yuan, do you realize what sort of people you’re provoking? Aren’t you afraid of being dealt with quietly, without a trace?”
Zheng Hao couldn’t believe there was anyone in the world who wasn’t afraid of death, especially someone all alone.
“Did you really think I came here today just to deal with you? You’re flattering yourself. Go back and tell Old Master Pei: for Pei Xi’s father’s sake, I won’t pursue what happened before. But if there’s a next time, don’t blame me for showing no mercy.”
With those words, Fang Yuan leapt into the car. “And another thing: I like this car. From now on, it’s mine.”
The black Wrangler quickly disappeared into the night, leaving Zheng Hao alone, his face a shifting palette of emotions.
This was the most reckless man he’d ever met.
No—he wasn’t a man. He was a demon.

Zheng Hao immediately went to report everything that had happened to Old Master Pei.
Of course, he didn’t recount the events exactly as they’d occurred—he embellished, making Old Master Pei hate Fang Yuan all the more.
“Are you telling the truth?”
Standing before the floor-to-ceiling window, Old Master Pei faced away from Zheng Hao.
“Every word is true. Those security guards—they’re traitors. I’ll fire them all as soon as possible.”
The thought of those shameless men made Zheng Hao grind his teeth in anger.
“Did you contact the driver?”
“Yes, but he’s already on a train home. He said he’d rather farm than ever work as a thug again.” (The driver hadn’t given Zheng Hao the full story.)

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