Chapter 052: A Token of Allegiance

It must be said that the internationally renowned designer Huang Zhiqi truly had a remarkable touch. After his work, the main hall of the Phoenix Bar, no matter the angle, resembled a dimly-lit, ambiguous little theater—perfect both for seeking excitement and for relaxing to music.

The crowd of over a hundred patrons, originally drawn here for those very experiences, felt a pang of regret at not having heard enough of Ye Ruoshui’s singing. But none had expected that, right near the bar counter, in a small area bathed in harsh light, a scene would unfold reminiscent of those in “Infernal Affairs” or “Colour of the Loyalty”—gun pointed at a head, more thrilling than any song.

And so, one by one, the onlookers held their breath, keeping their distance, praying the stray bullets would not seek them out.

In truth, their worries were mostly unfounded. Lin Yu’s gun, much like a superpower’s nuclear arsenal, served only as a strategic deterrent.

When Zhang Yang, radiating presence, declared, “If I must choose, I choose death. Go ahead and shoot. Otherwise, stop pointing that thing at my head. It’s not a pleasant feeling,” the atmosphere instantly solidified.

Every gaze fixed on Lin Yu, whose face was as unmoved as a stone, searching for his reaction.

Zhang Yang’s friends remained where they stood, wary of provoking Lin Yu into doing something truly mad. These were scions of wealth and power, destined for lives of luxury—they had no intention of meeting their end in a gutter over a barroom brawl.

After a brief pause, Lin Yu, having had his challenge thrown back at him, flashed a mysterious, wicked grin. Suddenly, he grabbed a beer bottle and, before anyone could react, smashed it over Zhang Yang’s head with a loud crack.

“If you insist on playing the tough guy and rushing the gun, don’t blame me. Did you really think, after bullying my friend, you’d walk out of here untouched?”

First capture the ringleader to cow the rest—that was his plan.

Having knocked Zhang Yang out cold, Lin Yu whispered softly. There was something sinister in his demeanor now, a ruthless aura about him. In truth, a sense of vengeful satisfaction welled up inside him. Seeing Zhang Zhilong’s pitiful state, he had silently resolved that everyone present would pay a price.

As Zhang Yang collapsed in a heap, blood streaming from his head and soaking the already dark-red carpet, every rich young wastrel in the room knew the grudge between Lin Yu and Zhang Yang was now set in stone, beyond reconciliation.

Their earlier sense of superiority gave way to fear. After all, the meek fear the strong, and the strong fear those with nothing to lose.

To bring down Zhang Yang like that—Lin Yu clearly feared nothing. All present believed that after this, Lin Yu would face ruthless revenge, perhaps even mortal danger, with his entire family at risk.

“He’s gone too far, overplayed his hand.”
Such was the unspoken thought running through the crowd. They felt Lin Yu had overreached—daring to attack Zhang Yang, and not just once but twice, leaving him unconscious.

“Unbelievable! Among our peers in Bincheng, no one would dare do this. Lin Yu is the first!”

As the crowd’s murmurs grew, Lin Yu suddenly sneered, “Are you all enjoying this a little too much? Let me be clear: today you bullied my brother—none of you will get away with it! Not a single one!”

He had remained calm until the end, but now Lin Yu seemed to lose himself, years of pent-up rage erupting in full force.

He shouted, “Lian Jin, get over here!”

Lian Jin, who had been watching events unfold, was momentarily stunned at being called, but with a gun in play, he could only jog over.

Standing there nervously, Lian Jin watched as Lin Yu flashed another mysterious smile and said coldly, “They wanted to harm your woman. Don’t you want revenge?”

“Revenge?” Lian Jin was startled. He was just a low-level bouncer—compared to these rich kids, he was nothing but a speck of dust. Though he felt aggrieved, the thought of revenge was unthinkable. Besides, Ye Ruoshui was unharmed; nothing irreversible had happened.

After about ten seconds’ thought, Lian Jin shook his head and forced out a reply through gritted teeth, “No…”

“Is it that you don’t want to, or that you don’t dare?” Lin Yu asked, his tone taunting, a frightening energy about him—thanks in no small part to the gun in his hand.

He actually wanted to smash the remaining eighteen beer bottles himself, venting his anger and avenging Zhang Zhilong, but Lian Jin seemed too valuable to let go—Lin Yu saw potential in befriending him. As for hitting Zhang Yang, Lin Yu was already contemplating his escape plan.

Trouble was inevitable, given Zhang Yang’s background—his father, Zhang Kailai, was the head of the city management bureau, and the web of connections he controlled behind the scenes was not something Lin Yu’s own father, Lin Tiancheng, could withstand.

“I don’t dare!” Lian Jin admitted after a pause, lowering his head.

Indeed, he couldn’t afford to offend these influential heirs. To cross them meant not just losing his job at Phoenix Bar, but being driven out of Bincheng entirely. If that happened, there would be no chance with Ye Ruoshui—he already felt unworthy of such a pure, singing university girl.

“Now listen: pick up a beer and hit each one over their heads. If the bottle doesn’t break, keep hitting. Otherwise, I’ll shoot you on the spot.” Lin Yu’s voice was icy, his eyes wild with fury.

“Fine, I’ll do it!” Lian Jin replied helplessly. He figured that anyone who dared attack Zhang Yang was certainly someone with a powerful background.

Compared to Lin Yu now, Lian Jin felt his own twenty-seven years had been wasted. If he could just once have the guts to stand alone and awe a room full of people, his life would not be in vain.

“If anyone moves first, I’ll shoot. If you doubt me, ask Hu Bin and Lin Lie—they’ll tell you about my character.” Lin Yu threatened, then turned to Lian Jin, “Start with the one who looks like Vic Chou.”

He meant Hu Bin; their fathers were old friends, but Lin Yu felt Hu Bin had gone too far—standing by while his friend was assaulted, showing no reaction. So he should be first.

“All right.” Lian Jin nervously grabbed a beer bottle and walked toward Hu Bin. Only then did he realize why Lin Yu had specified the Munich Strongman beer—the bottles were heavy, solid, and perfect for the task.

“Lin Yu! Even me? You want to hit me?” Hu Bin shouted as Lian Jin approached.

“You deserve it,” Lin Yu replied coldly.

And with that, Lian Jin smashed the bottle over Hu Bin’s head, forcing him to bow his once-arrogant head.

With each blow, Lian Jin was making his allegiance clear.