Chapter 482: Suffered a Major Setback!
“Well, well? Scared me to death, old man!”
The bleached-blond thug slammed his beer bottle onto the table, face twisted with contempt. “Can’t be messed with? Who the fuck do you think you are? Talking such a big game—does your dad know?”
Shen Hao gritted his molars, enunciating each word: “Listen up, you piece of shit. My name is Shen Hao! Heir to the Shen Group! If you don’t want to die, get the fuck out of here! And they’re people you can’t afford to mess with either!”
He’d thought revealing his name would make them back off. Instead, it sparked even wilder laughter from the three men.
“The Shen family heir? Hahaha… He says he’s the Shen family heir!”
“The Shen family heir eating at this shithole roadside stall? Bringing daughters of big shots and pretty rich girls? You’ve been reading too many fucking novels!”
“Right! If you’re Young Master Shen, then I’m your daddy! If these two chicks are really high-society daughters, they should have some fun with us brothers. Let us taste what privileged girls are like!”
“Hahaha…”
The leader, even more emboldened by alcohol, patted Shen Hao’s face with deliberate insult.
“Kid, you posturing in front of me? Dressing up like a proper gentleman and thinking you’re somebody? Today your granddaddy will teach you what rules are!”
Never in his life had Shen Hao suffered such humiliation. He viciously slapped the thug’s hand away and threw a punch.
“Fuck your mother! You’re dead!”
The conflict exploded instantly.
The blond thug, caught off guard, staggered back several steps. He touched his swelling face and lost it.
“Beat the shit out of him!”
The other two hooligans, stunned at first, reacted by raising their bottles and swinging at Shen Hao.
Zhu Silin and Bai Shisui tried to intervene but couldn’t, nearly getting a bottle to the head themselves.
“Call the police!”
They stood no chance against three thugs. They’d never studied martial arts or self-defense. They’d never been in a fight in their lives.
Of course, they’d never needed to—who would dare lay a hand on them?
So in this situation, calling the police was their only option.
By now, the scene was pure chaos.
Tables were overturned. Grilled skewers, beer bottles, and soup splattered everywhere—a complete wreck.
Though Shen Hao had trained in combat, it had been for fitness, not practicality. In a real fight, he operated on pure instinct, using whatever came to hand.
Both outnumbered and outmatched by seasoned brawlers, he was quickly beaten to the ground.
The thugs pummeled him while hurling insults.
“Fuck! You posturing prick! Think you’re special because you’re rich? Now you’re crawling like a dog!”
“Making billions, huh? Fuck, I’ll send you to the underworld to spend it!”
“Once we’re done with you, we’ll grab those two bitches and show you what real men are!”
“……..”
But before they could touch Zhu Silin and Bai Shisui, police sirens blared.
They’d called the cops.
Plus, the patrolling officers weren’t far from the night market street that evening and quickly came into view.
The blond thug and his crew had to stop. They each spat on Shen Hao’s prone body.
“Pfft! What a joke! Watch where you show off next time, asshole! Brothers, let’s go!”
The three cursed as they fled.
The patrol car stopped by the curb, lights flashing red and blue. Two officers got out.
They asked questions, examined the injuries of Shen Hao’s group, and took statements. They said they’d pull surveillance footage and capture the three thugs as soon as possible.
Since Shen Hao’s party wasn’t seriously injured and the assailants had escaped, the officers left after recording their statements and contact info. They told them to get medical attention first and promised to notify them immediately with any updates.
After the officers left, the night market vendor sighed over his smashed tables and chairs.
Zhu Silin pulled a thick stack of cash from her wallet and handed it to the vendor—far more than enough to cover the damages.
The vendor was stunned and thanked her profusely.
Supported by Bai Shisui, Shen Hao limped toward their car, teeth clenched.
“Let’s head back first. Then we’ll call Gu Yebai and the others. This isn’t over.”
As he turned to get in the car, he noticed something under the neighboring table—the thugs’ table. A black handbag.
Probably left behind by the three men.
Shen Hao immediately had Zhu Silin grab it. It might contain their identities.
Even one name would make them easy to find.
They’d just left when the three hooligans snuck back into the scene, frantically searching for something.
“Fuck! Where’s my bag?!”
Learning it had been taken by the two men and woman, they relaxed.
As long as the cops didn’t have it, there was still room to maneuver.
The bag held something important they’d just retrieved—supposed to be delivered to their boss tomorrow.
Fortunately, they’d gotten the color and model of the other party’s car: a Land Rover.
The blond thug wasted no time calling his boss.
“Yes, yes, Pao Ge. It’s a Land Rover.”
“There were too many of them—over a dozen people. The three of us were no match. We got beaten badly.”
“Don’t know where they’re from. Accent sounds out-of-town. Right, very arrogant! They even said they wanted Pao Ge to eat shit!”
“…….”
After hanging up, cold sweat beaded on the thug’s forehead. He’d lied.
He’d claimed a group of arrogant people attacked them while they were eating and stole their bag.
This was to shift blame. If Pao Ge found out they’d lost it themselves, he’d skin them alive.
They might still face punishment, but it would be lighter.
After all, they really “couldn’t beat” those people.
To make it convincing, the three gave each other black eyes and smeared ketchup on their foreheads.
Soon after, they saw six or seven vans and over twenty motorcycles at an intersection.
Nearly a hundred men total.
A bald man stepped from the first van—it was Pao Ge.
“Where are they?!”
The blond thug, covering his freshly “processed” forehead, answered guiltily, “They… they ran!”
Then he fell to his knees, tears streaming down.
“Pao Ge, there were too many of them, and their cars were better. We… we really couldn’t stop them!”
The other two immediately knelt as well.
“That’s right, Pao Ge! We fought to the death but couldn’t beat them!”
“……..”
Pao Ge’s face darkened. He wanted to punish these three, but retrieving the bag was the priority.
If it fell into police hands, they’d be in real trouble.
Pao Ge kicked the blond thug.
“Worthless! Can’t even watch a bag! Did you see which way they went?!”
“I… I saw! They headed toward the southern suburbs! Oh, and they might’ve gone to the hospital—they had injuries too.” Grimacing, the thug got up to point the way.
“Get in!”
Pao Ge’s face was thunderous as he waved his arm. “Everyone go search! Turn the southern suburbs upside down if you have to! Find that Land Rover and that bag! Or you three are dead!”
Instantly, over a hundred men swarmed back into vans and onto motorcycles, engines roaring, speeding off after Shen Hao’s group.
Meanwhile, Shen Hao’s Land Rover had just entered the club’s underground garage.
The club had a medical room, so he’d chosen that over a hospital for simple bandaging.
Right after parking, Shen Hao called Gu Yebai back.
South City was Gu Yebai’s territory, after all. His methods would be straightforward.
Gu Yebai was angry at first, then calmed down. Looking at the long motorcade behind him, he suddenly had an idea.
“Do you want to send them to jail the normal way, or do you want to personally teach those thugs a lesson?”
When he acted, it was usually one outcome: catch them, lock them up, have people inside take care of them.
But they wouldn’t see it. Not satisfying enough. Not gratifying enough.
Shen Hao didn’t hesitate. “I want to personally teach them a lesson!”
“OK, Chen Ge and I will be there in about twenty minutes,” Gu Yebai said.
They’d just hung up when a phone rang from the black handbag they’d taken.
Shen Hao unzipped it and pulled out the brick phone, answering it.
When he heard the familiar voice on the other end, he smiled.
Perfect. That saved them the trouble of having to track them down.