Chapter Forty: Setting Out Alone to Sea

Zheng Hao simply thought the driver had some urgent matter at home and had to leave in a hurry.

“A bunch of useless fools. Suspend all actions against Fang Yuan for now and thoroughly investigate his background. Also, I’ll be heading out to sea in the next few days—arrange a ship for me.”

Old Master Pei frequently went out to sea. Unlike those wealthy men who did it just for fishing, he did it simply for the pleasure of the breeze.

“Yes, understood. But about Fang Yuan and Pei Xi…”

Zheng Hao was reluctant to let go, even if it was only a temporary halt. He was still fuming at the thought that the boy had confessed his feelings to Pei Xi, and that Pei Xi had accepted so readily.

“Do you not understand what I just said?”

Old Master Pei shot him a glare, and Zheng Hao immediately cowered.

Despite his thin and frail appearance, Old Master Pei commanded great respect and even a touch of fear from those around him. Just by looking at Zheng Hao and Pang Dahai, it was clear the old man was no ordinary figure.

Every summer, Old Master Pei would take several trips out to sea, always piloting the boat himself and never allowing anyone to accompany him.

Pei Xi often clashed with him over this, but to no avail. Other than never interfering with where he went, Old Master Pei would grant Pei Xi any request—except this one, where no one’s word could sway him.

Zheng Hao vividly recalled one occasion when the forecast warned of a violent storm—nothing unusual for a coastal city, but this time a red alert had been issued. Even as Pei Xi went so far as to kneel and beg, Old Master Pei remained unmoved.

The very day after he set out, the weather took a drastic turn for the worse. When the storm hit in full force, the city seemed plunged into an apocalypse. Visibility during the day was scarcely a meter; many old trees along the roads were uprooted. The storm raged for two days and nights, and Pei Xi prepared herself for the worst.

But strangely enough, as soon as the storm subsided and Pei Xi was about to call in the rescue teams, someone spotted a boat on the horizon.

Old Master Pei returned unscathed. Even the search and rescue crew could not help but praise him, calling it nothing short of a miracle.

After that, whenever Old Master Pei went to sea alone, no one tried to stop him anymore.

Manager Xue noticed a black SUV parked in front of the apartment building, and it looked oddly familiar.

Wasn’t this the same vehicle that had brought trouble for Fang Yuan last time? As Manager Xue was about to call someone, he saw Fang Yuan step out of the driver’s seat.

“Fang Yuan? This car?”

He was puzzled as to why Fang Yuan would be getting out of that car, but when he noticed the injury on Fang Yuan’s leg, he immediately guessed what had happened.

“I got my revenge today. This car is my prize,” Fang Yuan said with a grin. His leg was already nearly healed, though there were still bloodstains on his clothes, giving him a fearsome appearance.

“You… went to fight them?” Manager Xue recalled how Fang Yuan had promised not to let that slap go unanswered, but he hadn’t taken it seriously at the time. Anyone could see what kind of people those thugs were. Yet, Fang Yuan had actually marched straight to their door.

Not only that, but he’d commandeered their car as well—truly impressive, earning Manager Xue’s renewed respect.

“Fang Yuan, was that really necessary? I told you, a slap is nothing. It’s dangerous to take them on alone,” Manager Xue said sincerely, worried for Fang Yuan’s safety against such overwhelming odds.

“No matter how many there were, didn’t I still thrash them? Don’t worry, those people won’t be coming around again. And if they dare, it won’t be as simple as today.”

Fang Yuan showed no hurry to return to his room, asking Manager Xue for some antiseptic swabs first.

Attentive as ever, Manager Xue also brought him bandages and hemostatic ointment. Seeing the blood on Fang Yuan’s clothes, Manager Xue assumed the injury was severe. Knowing Fang Yuan couldn’t risk a hospital visit, he prepared plenty of bandages and painkillers, and would have followed Fang Yuan upstairs if not for Fang Yuan’s insistence.

Fang Yuan had no desire to let anyone see how quickly his wound was healing; it would be hard to explain otherwise.

Back in his room, Fang Yuan used the alcohol swabs to clean the dried blood around the wound, then changed into a comfortable pair of shorts. Since his pants had a large tear, he simply threw them away—one less thing to wash.

“Chongchong, my wound is healing much faster than normal. Did you do something?”

For a wound to heal so quickly, Chongchong must have done something. Otherwise, how could it be possible?

“Of course. I told you, I wouldn’t let you suffer the slightest harm. That stab came so suddenly, otherwise you would have dodged it easily.” Chongchong was still fretting over Fang Yuan’s injury, while Fang Yuan himself seemed unconcerned.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch. I wonder if that guy’s still alive—hopefully I didn’t actually kill him.”

Only now did Fang Yuan begin to worry that his earlier kick might have been too much. If he really had killed someone, it would be troublesome.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. If there was a real danger, I’d have warned you,” Chongchong reassured him.

The next morning, Fang Yuan awoke feeling as if he’d just finished hauling a truckload of bricks—his body ached all over.

And yet, he’d slept soundly with no dreams at all.

Why, then, did he feel so exhausted? He used to dream all the time, which the doctors called neurasthenia. He’d tried many remedies, but none had worked.

Now, at least, he never dreamed anymore. But oddly, every time he woke up, his whole body felt sore, as if he’d spent the night doing hard manual labor.

Could it be… he was sleepwalking?

He had asked Chongchong, who claimed to be a heavy sleeper and knew nothing of what happened.

After eating two baskets of soup dumplings, Fang Yuan began to worry about his future. With the money in his pocket dwindling, he needed to find a way to make a living.

In the morning, Manager Xue inquired kindly about his injury. Fang Yuan assured him it was not deep and would heal quickly.

To hide the unnatural rapid healing, Fang Yuan wrapped his leg in bandages and put on long pants.

After thinking it over, he remembered that small, overlooked eatery.

To be fair, the owner’s culinary skills were excellent, the flavors authentic, but there just weren’t enough customers.

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