Chapter Thirty-Two: I’ll Annihilate Them Myself!

Wang Jiujui’s strike was swift and clean; from start to finish, the whole act was completed in the blink of an eye. In other words, by the time Qin Luo snapped out of her shock and understood what had happened, Li Qingyang’s face was already disfigured.

Perhaps feeling that her hands were dirty from hitting someone, Wang Jiujui turned on the faucet, washed her hands, and meticulously wiped them dry with a paper towel.

Indeed, her fingers were exquisite—slender, fair, and perfectly proportioned.

Catching Qin Luo staring at her in a daze, she flashed a sweet smile, all the demure grace of a sheltered beauty, and said, “Actually, I don’t usually like fighting.”

“I can tell,” Qin Luo replied, feigning innocence. The moves she’d just displayed must have been honed by years of martial arts training.

“Teacher Qin, let’s go. Xiaohua and the others are still waiting for us,” Wang Jiujui suggested.

Because she was standing at the entrance of the men’s restroom, several men who rushed in quickly ran back out with bewildered expressions. Some, particularly desperate, hurried into a stall to take care of their urgent needs.

Qin Luo pointed at Li Qingyang, who lay writhing and moaning on the floor, and asked, “What about him?”

Wang Jiujui thought for a moment before saying, “I’m sure some kind soul will take him to the hospital. Or, we could call a staff member for help?”

“What if he calls the police?” Qin Luo asked worriedly.

“I’ll just say he tried to assault me. You can be my witness.” The two discussed this serious matter as they supported each other out of the restroom.

“That’s a good plan,” Qin Luo agreed. “But, how did you end up in the men’s bathroom?”

“He dragged me in,” Wang Jiujui answered with a sly grin.

To Qin Luo, that look carried a devilish hint. If Li Qingyang, lying on the floor, had heard it, who knows if he might have died of rage on the spot.

When they returned to the private room, the atmosphere was already lively. Some were challenging each other to drinking games, others played dice, and a crowd was singing “A Lifetime With You” in chorus.

Seeing Qin Luo and Wang Jiujui return together, Li Meng and Xiaohua hurried over.

“Teacher Qin, are you alright?” Li Meng asked with concern.

“I’m fine. I feel much better after throwing up,” Qin Luo replied, letting Wang Jiujui help him to the sofa.

“Teacher Qin, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have forced you to drink,” Li Meng apologized guiltily.

“It’s nothing,” Qin Luo waved his hand. “Go have fun, don’t worry about me.”

“Teacher Qin, let me keep you company,” Li Meng offered sincerely. Sturdy men like him, once they admired someone, truly cared from the heart.

“No need for you! Come on, let’s go sing. Didn’t you say you could sing ‘True Hero’? Let’s pick that,” Xiaohua urged, tugging Li Meng’s arm.

“You go ahead. I’ll stay with Teacher Qin,” Li Meng insisted, loyal to the end.

“You idiot, are you really that dense? With Jiujui here, do you still need to stay?” Xiaohua stamped her foot in exasperation.

“Oh, right. Let’s go sing,” Li Meng finally caught on. When he glanced back at Qin Luo and Wang Jiujui, his smile was rather odd.

Clearly, Xiaohua’s hint had been more than obvious.

“You two have such impure thoughts,” Wang Jiujui teased, pointing at them playfully.

“Yes, yes, we’re the impure ones. Sister Jiu is the purest person in the world. Sister Jiu, we leave the important task of keeping Teacher Qin company to you. We’re off to sing!” Xiaohua said, laughing.

Watching the two dash away, Wang Jiujui turned to Qin Luo and asked, “Want something to drink? Some pure water?”

“Sure, purified water please,” Qin Luo replied.

Wang Jiujui searched around, but found only beer and red wine in the room, so she pushed open the door and stepped out.

Qin Luo closed his eyes and listened to the students singing. Truth be told, aside from the song Wang Jiujui sang, most of them wailed and howled off-key, but in this environment, Qin Luo didn’t find it noisy. Instead, a rare sense of fulfillment washed over him.

Humans are social creatures, every one of us longing for friends.

Suddenly, loud arguing erupted outside.

Then, with a bang, the private room’s door was kicked open.

The singing stopped abruptly; everyone turned to look at the doorway.

A gang of men in black blocked the entrance, led by a young man with a close-cropped haircut, his eyes glinting with mocking malice as he surveyed the room, like a cat about to toy with mice.

Wang Jiujui was forced back into the corner by the door, clutching two bottles of mineral water, her face wary, clearly intent on blocking their entry.

Qin Luo rose from the sofa and asked the man, “Who are you?”

“Qingyang, get in here and point out who hit you,” the man called over his shoulder.

Li Qingyang emerged from the crowd, pressing a handkerchief to his face, and pointed at Qin Luo and Wang Jiujui. “It was them.”

Only then did the man focus on Qin Luo, declaring, “Cripple the guy’s legs. Scar his face. Take the woman away.”

“Yes!” The black-clad men responded in unison, exuding a menacing aura.

“Damn it, who dares?” Li Meng finally snapped out of it, grabbed a wine bottle from the table, and charged forward.

The other male students followed suit, each grabbing whatever was at hand and positioning themselves behind Qin Luo.

“Well, look at that. Some of you are fearless,” the crew cut man sneered, taking a cigarette from his pocket, his lackey stepping up to light it for him. He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled smoke, the haze swirling in the yellow light with a certain careless swagger.

With his cigarette-holding hand, he pointed at Li Meng and the others. “You’re all students, right? I’d advise you to sit quietly in a corner. If you get hurt, don’t blame me.”

“I don’t care who you are. If you want to touch Teacher Qin, you’ll have to get through me first,” Li Meng stepped forward, determined to shield Qin Luo.

In his mind, Qin Luo was surely fragile and in need of protection from strong men like himself.

“Exactly! If they touch Teacher Qin, brothers, let’s fight them!” someone shouted from the back, met by a chorus of agreement that carried some real force.

Students from the next room, hearing the commotion, crowded over, encircling the men in black from both sides.

In terms of numbers, Qin Luo’s side now had the advantage.

But Qin Luo knew that if it came to a real fight, his side would surely suffer.

Who were these people? Thugs. Professional thugs.

Their job? Extortion, fighting, brawling.

His side was just students, most of whom had never even been in a fight.

Compared side by side, the outcome was already decided.

Moreover, if a fight broke out, many students would inevitably get hurt. If word of this reached the school, it would be more than he could bear.

At the very least, he’d be branded as the teacher who led students into a brawl.

Wang Jiujui, too, was worried about this. She knew some self-defense moves, and she’d just exchanged blows with two of these men at the door. She hadn’t lost, but she hadn’t gained the upper hand either.

They didn’t have formal technique, but they had plenty of experience.

Sometimes, experience is deadlier than skill.

The crew cut man, angered by Li Meng’s words, sneered coldly, “Who do you think you are? Superman? Spider-Man? Ip Man? Since you’re so eager to go down, let’s start with you. Brothers, since they won’t back off, give them a lesson.”

Li Meng hefted his bottle and was about to charge when Qin Luo yanked him back. “Stand behind me,” he ordered.

“But Teacher Qin—”

“Stand behind me. Unless I call for help, no one is to make a move,” Qin Luo repeated, his voice firm and brooking no refusal.

“Oh, trying to play the hero? Fine, let’s start with you,” the crew cut man laughed.

The first man in black rushed forward, only to end up clutching his fist and squatting down howling in pain.

The second man charged, with the same result.

The third man only made it halfway before stopping, confused by how his companions had been taken down so quickly, and wanting to see how Qin Luo was doing it.

The crew cut man narrowed his eyes and sneered, “So that’s how it is. You’re a trained fighter. Careful, everyone—he’s got something in his hands.”

“Boss, can we use knives?” one lackey asked.

“Are you a damn idiot? We’re getting our asses handed to us and you’re still hiding your knife?” the man snapped.

The lackey nodded eagerly, shouting, “Brothers, bring out your weapons. This guy’s a tough one.”

If he were in normal condition, Qin Luo could handle these thugs. But his body was still weak from the allergic reaction and all the vomiting. Facing these armed men was now a real challenge.

Though the Daoist Twelve-Duan Brocade kept his mind clear in critical moments, his strikes had lost much of their force.

A knife slashed for his chest; another for his abdomen. These men had no compunction—they meant to kill.

Qin Luo retreated three steps, then suddenly threw a silver needle. One black-clad man dropped, hands over his face. Another, hearing his companion’s screams and trying to retreat, was kicked down by Qin Luo.

Li Meng couldn’t hold back any longer—he smashed a bottle over a thug’s head. The bottle shattered; the thug turned his head with effort, as if to memorize Li Meng’s face, then slumped to the floor.

Seeing Li Meng fight back, two thugs immediately closed in on him.

In the corner, Wang Jiujui frantically dialed her phone. Into the receiver, she shouted, “Zhang Yiyi, your daughter’s about to get chopped up!”

“What? Where? Who the hell dares touch my daughter? Did you mention my name?” a woman’s shrill voice shrieked over the phone.

“I’m at the Golden Palm. The fight’s already broken out. I told them your name, but it didn’t help,” Wang Jiujui said anxiously.

“You little brat, why can’t you ever let me rest easy? Hang on, I’m coming over right now—I’ll wipe them out!” her mother shrieked.

“You won’t be able to handle them. Have Dad send people over, quickly!” Wang Jiujui corrected. She truly feared her occasionally scatterbrained mother would charge over alone.