Chapter 227 — Waiting for News

"After you, Chief Wei Zhao!" Zhong Yongliang opened the car door and gestured for him to enter.

The Audi's driver found it strange. He had no idea what had gotten into Young Master Zhong today—why was he acting like some underling, opening the door for another man? But before he came, Zhong Fabai had instructed him: do not ask what you should not ask, just focus on driving. So the driver pretended he had seen nothing.

Only after Wei Zhao got in did Zhong Yongliang take the passenger seat.

"Young Master Zhong, where are we going?" the driver asked once Zhong Yongliang had settled in.

"The Liangbai Grand Hotel," Zhong Yongliang ordered.

The driver nodded, started the car, and sped toward their destination.

Sitting in the car, Wei Zhao appeared to be idly and boredly watching the scenery, but in truth he was quietly observing the movements of Zhong Yongliang and the driver. Yet the whole way, neither of them made any unusual move. Wei Zhao paid him no mind either, knowing he was putting on an act, and let him be, to see just what tricks this little bastard was up to.

When they reached the door of a private room, the waiter pushed it open and said, "Young Master Zhong, please—"

"Damn it, do you not know how to talk? This is Chief Wei Zhao—even I have to call him Chief. Are you blind?" Zhong Yongliang glared at the waiter. How could the man be so oblivious?

"Yes! Yes!" the waiter hurriedly said. "This way, Chief Wei Zhao!"

Wei Zhao nodded and said nothing, stepping into the private room. Only then did Zhong Yongliang shut the door with a fawning smile.

Wei Zhao sat down carelessly at the table and looked at Zhong Yongliang. "All right, out with it. What is it?"

"Chief Wei Zhao, the dishes will be here any moment. Let us talk over the meal!" Zhong Yongliang said obsequiously. In truth, he had been waiting all along for a text from Brother Black Panther. With no word from that side, he could only stall Wei Zhao for now.

"Suit yourself." Wei Zhao glanced at Zhong Yongliang's somewhat anxious expression and gave a cold snort, watching him keep up the act.

Before long, the door of the private room was pushed open, and the waiter came in pushing a serving cart. Dish after dish of rare delicacies was laid out, filling the table to overflowing. Wei Zhao clicked his tongue inwardly—Zhong Yongliang really was willing to spend.

But Wei Zhao had no particular demands when it came to food. His standards were low; as long as he could eat his fill, that was enough.

Seeing that Wei Zhao seemed less than interested, Zhong Yongliang was slightly disappointed. In his view, Wei Zhao was a poor student, and getting to eat a top-grade seafood feast like this was a rare opportunity.

"Chief Wei Zhao, do these dishes not suit your taste?" Zhong Yongliang assumed Wei Zhao did not care for seafood, so he asked.

"It is fine. I will make do," Wei Zhao said flatly.

"..." Zhong Yongliang was so angry he wanted to curse. This spread, and he calls it making do? A table like this would cost tens of thousands at least, and he calls it making do? But then Zhong Yongliang thought: this was, after all, the last meal Wei Zhao would eat before he died. Might as well treat it as a farewell dinner, a Feast at Hongmen. And so he let it go. "Ha, Chief Wei Zhao, whatever else you need, just say the word. Will you have some red wine? Seafood and red wine go wonderfully together!"

"No need. Bring me two bowls of white rice," Wei Zhao said, waving a hand to cut him off.

"Huh?!" Zhong Yongliang was stunned, inwardly cursing Wei Zhao for wasting heaven's bounty. Such delicious seafood, and he eats it with rice? Was he out of his mind? Still, Zhong Yongliang found the waiter and ordered two bowls of rice for Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao took the rice without ceremony and began devouring it like a whirlwind. In the blink of an eye, a table of rare delicacies and two bowls of rice had all gone into Wei Zhao's belly. "Not bad, I suppose. Not as good as braised pork," Wei Zhao said, patting his full stomach and letting out a satisfied belch.

"..." Zhong Yongliang nearly rolled his eyes. Had he known, he would have just treated this pauper to braised pork. All that money wasted for nothing, and not even a word of thanks.

"All right, let us get to business. Fed and watered, time to beat someone up." Wei Zhao glanced at Zhong Yongliang.

"Beat someone up?" Zhong Yongliang was taken aback, unsure what Wei Zhao meant. He gave a dry laugh. "Chief Wei Zhao jests. The business at hand, well..."

Zhong Yongliang hemmed and hawed, but inwardly he was frantic. Wei Zhao had eaten far too fast. The original plan had been to lay out a spread of seafood and have the two of them drink for a while, which should have stalled for an hour or two at least. Yet Wei Zhao had finished the whole battle in under twenty minutes, wiping everything out. What was he to do with the time that followed?

Zhong Yongliang could only pray that Black Panther would hurry things along, wrap it up quickly. Just as he was praying, the phone in his pocket buzzed twice. Zhong Yongliang was overjoyed. He pulled out the phone and took a look, only to find written on it: "Fake IDs, guns for sale, loan sharking, revenge services, best prices..."

Motherf—! Zhong Yongliang cursed inwardly. What garbage. If you people could really get revenge, I would not be so troubled.

"Do you actually have something or not?" Wei Zhao was growing impatient. Zhong Yongliang was surely playing some trick, and he kept glancing at his phone, clearly waiting for some signal.

"I do, I do!" Zhong Yongliang had no choice but to say, "Actually, the thing is this—Zou Ruoming likes Tang Yun. You know that, right?"

"Cut the nonsense. Get to the point," Wei Zhao said directly, without answering.

For the fastest updates, ad-free reading, please visit.