Chapter 71: Wu Dongjun Got Beaten Up [Part Three]

After struggling for a while and failing to wrest the jacket from Zhang Ye, Guo Xiangqing lowered her head in silence and clutched the rather loose collar. Perhaps it was truly effective, or maybe just an illusion, but the moment she put on the jacket she no longer felt cold—a gentle warmth enveloped her heart, like a fire in winter.

"Why don't you wear it instead, I..." Seeing Zhang Ye standing bare-chested to the side, Guo Xiangqing, suppressing her embarrassment, tried to suggest he wear the jacket, but then she remembered there was only one. If Zhang Ye put it on, she would have to huddle in his arms for warmth. The thought left her speechless.

"What is it?" Zhang Ye grinned teasingly, standing tall and straight, showing no sign of cold. On the contrary, the cool breeze was quite refreshing to him.

"N-nothing!" Guo Xiangqing shook her head hurriedly and said no more. She didn't know what was wrong with her today, blushing at every little thing, heart pounding like a startled deer.

Zhang Ye stopped teasing her and took out his phone, dialing Yuan Yuqing's number. Judging by the rain, it wasn't going to stop anytime soon, so he called to reassure her not to worry about Guo Xiangqing.

After a few words, Zhang Ye called home, then waited quietly.

At last, half an hour later, the rain eased and the wind was no longer so fierce. Guo Xiangqing returned the jacket to Zhang Ye and was the first to step out of the phone booth.

All the way, neither of them spoke much, a strange atmosphere growing between them.

"We're here," Zhang Ye said, turning to look at Guo Xiangqing.

Guo Xiangqing lived in the county government housing complex, guarded by security at the gate—ordinary people couldn't just enter. Zhang Ye had no intention of going in; he could only walk her to the entrance.

She nodded silently, glanced up at her building, then suddenly said, "Thank you for today." Like a butterfly taking flight, she dashed toward her home, leaving Zhang Ye with nothing but the image of her youthful figure running away.

The next day, the weather cleared. After breakfast, Zhang Ye headed straight for the shop.

Since they were changing business focus, the signboard had to be replaced. After some discussion, they decided to rename it Fortune Internet Café—simple and direct.

Now, the interior renovation was nearly complete: desks were arranged, computers installed, and Zhang Ye had even added a rear window in the restroom for convenience and safety.

To keep the shop looking clean and tidy, he had all the walls repainted, leaving them as white as paper and giving the space a comfortable feel.

He had also set aside a small private room for himself. When he bought the computer, he’d already planned to start writing. Of course, working at home would have been better, but since it was hard to explain that to his parents, he set up his workspace here.

It was still summer vacation, after all, so he had plenty of time and didn’t find it troublesome.

After a few words with Brother Tao and the others, Zhang Ye began writing. He had already outlined his thoughts the night before, so the words flowed rapidly—his hands flying over the keyboard like phantoms.

He’d been using computers for years, and in his previous life, he’d worked as a writer out of necessity, where speed was everything. If you weren’t fast, you didn’t eat—so he’d trained systematically. Though he wasn’t as skilled as before, in others’ eyes, his speed was almost superhuman.

Liu Wentao and the rest had no idea what Zhang Ye was writing, and he didn’t intend to tell them—it wasn’t meant for them anyway. But his astonishing typing speed left them all stunned, especially since it took them several minutes just to type a single word.

In the midst of his work, a commotion suddenly erupted outside, followed by angry shouts.

Frowning, Zhang Ye finished his line before walking out, asking as he went, "What’s going on?"

"Brother Xiao Ye, Brother Wu’s been beaten up," replied Skinny Monkey Chen Fang, his voice seething with anger. Over the past few days, Wu Dongjun had become one of them, so his injury infuriated them.

"Old Wu, what happened?" Zhang Ye hurried over and saw Wu Dongjun, his face swollen and mottled with bruises, his clothes torn and muddy, being helped in by Liu Guangxiang.

The sight of Wu Dongjun in such a state made Zhang Ye furious.

"I don’t know who they were. I was just walking down the street when three guys blocked me, dragged me into an alley, and beat me up. They said some warning, but I was so dazed I couldn’t make it out—heard something like 'Brother Fan'..." Wu Dongjun gingerly rubbed his aching face, grimacing in pain.

"Brother Fan?" Zhang Ye frowned, immediately thinking of Li Yifan.

In his past life, Zhang Ye’s main impression of Li Yifan was fighting. Anything related to a brawl, Li Yifan was always involved. Out on the street, people called him Brother Fan.

Realizing this, Zhang Ye’s anger only deepened. "This is too much! Do they really think we’re afraid of them?"

"Xiao Ye, have you figured it out?" Liu Wentao had also heard Li Yifan’s name from Zhao Haidong, so when Wu Dongjun mentioned Brother Fan, he thought of the same person and anger flashed across his normally stern face.

Though he usually spoke little and appeared easygoing, he’d spent time in a reformatory and met all kinds of people. If truly provoked, he was just as dangerous.

"It must be them. We never went looking for trouble—they came after us instead." Zhang Ye nodded, barely containing his rage.

The incident at the clothing market had just passed, and this time it was even worse—Wu Dongjun had nothing to do with any of it.

Zhang Ye’s temper could be fiery, just unprovoked until now. He had come to consider Wu Dongjun one of his own; seeing him beaten, he could hardly swallow the insult.

"Brother Xiao Ye, do you know who did it? Let’s fight back—see who’s afraid of whom!" Liu Guangxiang was eager for a confrontation. They’d been working hard here lately, but life without a fight was unbearable—their fists were itching for action.

"Well, isn’t this lively?" Just then, a group of three or five men walked in, sneering coldly.

"And who are you?" Du Tao, tall and imposing, blocked their path and demanded.

Since Liu Guangxiang had taken the lead, he, Chen Fang, and Liu Guangxiang had become official workers here, each earning five hundred a month from Zhang Ye. That might not seem much in the future, but for now, it was a remarkable sum.

"We’re from the Sanitation Bureau," said the man at the front, a man in his thirties with a black mole on his face, glaring as he pushed Du Tao aside.