Chapter Twenty-One: Street Dance? Zombie Dance?

Ma Heng was a street dance fanatic. He’d started skipping classes in middle school, spending his days learning from the older dancers on the streets. After several years, he’d gained some real skill. At every school ceremony or event, his street dance routine was a regular highlight. By high school, he was a legend on campus, and with his flashy moves, he managed to win over a few female classmates as well.

But being good at street dance didn’t mean he was a good student. He was failing several subjects and, under normal circumstances, should have had nothing to do with an elite school like Capital Medical University.

But as Li Ning once said: Everything is possible.

In China, as long as money can solve a problem, it’s not really a problem. As it happened, Ma Heng came from a wealthy family, and so everything fell into place.

He was a prince among men and couldn’t stand being criticized or insulted by others. So when Qin Luo made him lose face in front of the class, he immediately began plotting revenge.

Money wasn’t an issue for him, and he had a group of street-dancing, troublemaking friends always close by. So he decided to wait for a chance to catch Qin Luo alone and drag him into an alley for a beating.

As luck would have it, just after telling his friends about his plan, Qin Luo appeared right in front of them.

Ma Heng was convinced this guy wasn’t just overdue for a beating—he was practically begging for it.

At his shout, his friends who were performing their street dance all stopped.

“Ma, what’s up?”

“That guy’s out? Where is he? Let’s go teach him a lesson.”

“Hurry up, let’s get this over with so we can get back to it. I was about to film that girl with the 36D chest—”

Ma Heng pointed at Qin Luo’s back. “There he is. The one in the long robe.”

“Damn, that guy? What era does he think it is, wearing a long robe? Trying to out-cool us?”

“Yeah, but the girl next to him is a knockout. Curves in all the right places.”

Ma Heng grinned. “Do you know who she is?”

“Who?” asked a blond-haired kid.

“She’s a teacher at our school. The famous Ice Queen. Any of you brave enough to risk rejection?”

“Heh, I’ve been with all kinds of girls, but never a teacher. Let’s go, guys.” With that, the group surged forward.

“Hey, take it easy,” Ma Heng shouted from behind, grinning. “Just rough him up a little.”

To be honest, Lin Huanxi wasn’t the best shopping companion. She walked too quickly and was always single-minded in her purpose. If she wanted a phone, she’d go straight to the phone shop, ignoring clothing stores and snack stands along the way. It took some of the fun out of shopping.

Still, walking beside such a stunning woman and occasionally brushing against her fragrant shoulder was enough to satisfy Qin Luo’s restless heart.

“What kind of food do you like?” Lin Huanxi asked.

“I’m easy,” Qin Luo replied modestly.

“Sichuan food?”

“I can’t handle spicy.”

“...Then Cantonese,” Lin Huanxi said, exasperated. For someone who claimed to be easygoing, he was anything but.

“Fine, that’s good,” Qin Luo nodded.

Just as they were about to enter the Yuehai Restaurant, a group of young men rushed over, surrounding them in silence, eyeing them up like monkeys in a zoo.

“Is there a problem?” Qin Luo asked. He’d already spotted Ma Heng at the back of the group. So Wang Jiujie’s warning was right—this guy was vindictive to the core.

“Heh, no problem. We just wanted a look at you,” said a trendy kid with cropped hair and an earring—a delicate pretty-boy type, the kind girls swooned over.

This left Qin Luo feeling deeply unsettled. Guys like this should have pig faces. If every bad person in the world had warts on their face, wouldn’t that be wonderful?

“There’s nothing to see except my good looks,” Qin Luo shrugged.

“Oh, acting cocky, are you? Heard you’re a teacher—must think you’re hot stuff?”

“That depends who I’m being compared to. Against you lot, I’m definitely better,” Qin Luo said contemptuously. He could tell they were here to make trouble.

If he showed fear, they’d just get bolder. If he stood his ground, he’d get beaten up anyway. Better to die standing than live kneeling.

“You little punk, you looking for a beating? Keep mouthing off and I’ll smash your face in,” snarled a guy with a white headband, like he was in mourning. He wore a short-sleeved T-shirt, and his arm bore a tattoo that might have been a dragon or a giant herring—he looked like a wannabe gangster.

“Get lost,” Lin Huanxi snapped, her face icy. She felt responsible for Qin Luo’s safety since she’d brought him out. He was so young, delicate, and defenseless—

“Heh, Miss Lin, you really live up to your reputation as the campus goddess. Even angry, you’re gorgeous,” Ma Heng said, squeezing through the crowd with a grin.

“He’s a student at Capital Medical?” Lin Huanxi asked, looking at Qin Luo.

“Never met him,” Qin Luo shrugged.

“You—” Ma Heng was once again ignored by Qin Luo, nearly coughing up blood with rage. He jabbed a finger at Qin Luo. “Listen, I don’t care who you are. Today, you’ll apologize to me right here.”

“You know the emergency number, right?” Qin Luo turned to Lin Huanxi.

“I do,” she nodded.

“Call the police,” Qin Luo said.

“Haha, did you hear that, Tiger? Call the cops? What a joke,” the group laughed, looking at the guy with the white headband.

“Maybe we should let him try calling?”

“No way, what if we have to wait ages for the cops? We’re not standing around all day.”

Clearly, someone in their group had police connections. They weren’t the least bit worried about Qin Luo’s threat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call the police?” Qin Luo asked.

“If you want to, go ahead,” Ma Heng said. “But I advise you to give up. Wu Hu’s dad is the district chief.”

Qin Luo shook his head, looking regretful. “I’m only thinking of your best interests.”

“We don’t need you to. Qin, you acted tough in class, didn’t you? Now, apologize. And—” Ma Heng looked Qin Luo over, barely suppressing his laughter. “Make it sincere.”

“What counts as sincerity?” Qin Luo asked.

“Follow my buddy’s moves. Whatever he does, you do,” Ma Heng said, pointing to a skinny, monkey-like guy.

This was Ma Heng’s freshly hatched scheme. Since Qin Luo had embarrassed him in front of the class, he wanted payback. Forcing him, a teacher in a strange long robe, to dance street style on Wangfujing Avenue would be quite the spectacle. He’d film it, upload it to the campus network, and see how Qin Luo dared show his face again.

Qin Luo thought about it and actually agreed. “Fine. I like street dancing too.”

Lin Huanxi nearly collapsed. A country bumpkin who barely knew how to turn on a cell phone claimed to like street dance? What a joke.

“Let’s just go. Ignore them.” Lin Huanxi tugged at Qin Luo’s sleeve, trying to pull him out of the circle.

“Wait. I really do want to try. It’s a rare chance to learn,” Qin Luo said, unmoving.

“You can dance?” Lin Huanxi said anxiously.

“It’s fine. I know the basics,” Qin Luo replied.

“So you agree?” Ma Heng sneered, though a sliver of doubt crept in—could this guy really be a street dance expert? He didn’t look it.

“I agree. Just follow his moves, right?” Qin Luo confirmed, pointing at the skinny guy.

“That’s right,” Ma Heng said, then turned to the monkey-like friend. “Hou, just show a few moves for our Teacher Qin. Nothing too fancy, or he might throw out his back.” He winked as he spoke.

“Heh, got it,” said Monkey, grinning. He was the best dancer in the group, his popping and locking famous across Beijing.

So Monkey took the lead, and Qin Luo stood behind him in a line, ready to learn.

Their odd pose attracted a crowd of passersby, who thought two dance masters were about to face off. People gathered to watch.

“Watch closely. I’m starting,” Monkey said.

“Hold on,” Qin Luo interrupted.

“What?” Monkey snapped, annoyed.

“You’ve got dust on your shoulder. Let me brush it off,” Qin Luo said, stepping forward to quickly pat Monkey’s shoulder and neck.

“Are you done yet?”

“All done. Now you can start,” Qin Luo said, stepping back.

“Watch carefully. Don’t blink. I’m only showing it once. If you can’t follow, you crawl between our legs,” Monkey warned again.

“Are you done? Can we get started?” Qin Luo retorted impatiently.

“You—just wait,” Monkey cursed.

He raised his arm—strange, it wouldn’t move.

He tried his leg—strange, it was frozen too.

He twisted his neck—crack. Dislocated.

Wham!

Monkey lost his balance and crashed face-first onto the ground. The impact nearly cracked the marble tiles.

The crowd froze, then erupted in laughter. Some jeered, some whipped out their phones to record, others whistled and shouted.

Ma Heng and his friends went pale. What was Monkey doing? This wasn’t street dance—this was the zombie shuffle.

Qin Luo pointed at the groaning Monkey and said to Ma Heng, “So this is what you wanted me to learn? Fine, I apologize. I really can’t do that.”