The room was packed. There were a few lawyers still working despite it not being the weekend, the guys from the dorm, the police officers, and the people inside the conference room staring out at them…

Zou Yang knew that clinging to Fan Jun like this without letting go looked a bit strange given the circumstances, but right now he just didn’t want to move, didn’t want to let go, and didn’t want to speak.

Only now did he realize that he seemed to have drained every last ounce of his strength back in that conference room.

Fan Jun didn’t move either. He just kept one arm wrapped around him while gently patting his back with his other hand.

It took a long while before Zou Yang felt like he had gathered enough strength to move again, and he finally let go of Fan Jun.

“You okay?” Fan Jun asked softly.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang murmured in response.

“Thanks, Officer,” Liu Wenrui was saying to the policeman behind them. “So, we’re good to go now, right?”

“Go ahead,” the officer nodded. “I’ll walk down with you guys. I see they’re still lingering downstairs and haven’t left yet.”

“Sorry for the trouble,” Liu Wenrui said.

“Is there someone else inside the conference room who needs to leave? Your sister?” The officer looked at Zou Yang and asked.

Hearing the word “sister” made Zou Yang feel incredibly uncomfortable, but for an outsider, it was a perfectly natural way to refer to her.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded, “but we’re not together.”

“Got it,” the officer said to his colleague. “Tell the two inside who want to leave not to rush. Wait until we come back up, and we’ll escort them down.”

Sure enough, his eldest aunt and the others hadn’t left yet; the whole group was standing right by the entrance of the parking lot.

You could tell just by looking at their expressions that the earlier clash had definitely involved physical violence, and more than just one pair of hands had been raised.

“Don’t loiter around here anymore!” an officer pointed at them. “If you really think there’s an issue that needs resolving, come back to the station with us in a bit and talk it out!”

“We’re just waiting to consult with the lawyers,” his second aunt stepped forward and said with a smile.

“We definitely didn’t start any fights. Even if we did, we wouldn’t be a match for them anyway,” his eldest aunt said as she looked at Fan Jun. Her voice had lost its previous sharp, piercing edge and now sounded remarkably calm, almost gentle. “They brought in thugs from god knows where. Officer, I highly recommend you look into their backgrounds.”

Fan Jun didn’t say a word; he just turned his head to look at her.

His eldest aunt didn’t say anything more either and averted her gaze.

“Get in your car and go,” the officer said simply, turning to address Zou Yang and his friends.

Zou Yang swept his eyes across the faces of those relatives whom he used to see during every holiday, then gave Fan Jun a gentle tug, leading him toward the car.

“What did she just say?” Fan Jun asked.

“I knew you didn’t catch it,” Zou Yang couldn’t help but laugh. “Couldn’t you even read her lips?”

“I didn’t look at her at all,” Fan Jun said.

“She asked the police to look into the background of you—the thug!” Liu Wenrui chimed in to fill him in on the details.

Fan Jun chuckled, opened the car door, and climbed in.

They absolutely had to eat lunch together. There was far too much information to exchange; Zou Yang wanted to know what they had been up to outside, and they wanted to know what Zou Yang had been doing inside.

None of them were familiar with this area. Li Zhiyue opened Xiaohongshu and found a restaurant highly recommended by many users that was very close to their location, intending to book a private room.

“That’s definitely an influencer spot,” Liu Wenrui said. “It’ll be overpriced and taste terrible.”

“We don’t care about the taste right now. Are you seriously going to focus on the flavor during this meal?” Li Zhiyue said as he started dialing the number.

“Do we not care about the price either?! This isn’t the kind of pricey we usually deal with,” Liu Wenrui countered.

Li Zhiyue ignored him.

“Let’s just go to this one. So what if it’s expensive,” Zou Yang said. “I’m a solid little golden goose today.”

The people at the law firm had been the ones to call the police today, and once the officers arrived, they pulled up the surveillance footage. Li Zhiyue had used his phone to record the screen.

The moment they sat down inside the private room, Zou Yang held out his hand. “Give me your phone, let me see.”

“I sent it to the group chat,” Li Zhiyue tapped furiously on his screen. “Save it yourself and watch it at your own pace.”

Zou Yang pulled out his phone and tapped open the video.

The footage was a bit blurry. It started from quite a distance away, and it took a few seconds before the person filming remembered to zoom in.

Fan Jun, Liu Wenrui, and the others were sitting on the sofa near the entrance when a large crowd suddenly materialized outside the door—it definitely wasn’t just a couple of families of relatives.

Before they even pushed the door open, Fan Jun had already stood up, and a staff member from the law firm standing by the front desk had also moved to block the doorway.

But the crowd rushed in and shoved the staff member aside… Zou Yang had initially assumed this person was security hired by the lawyers, but they got pushed aside instantly… turns out they weren’t.

Zhang Chuanlong pointed at the crowd and said something, though it was inaudible in the video.

“Longlong said, ‘Take another step forward and see what happens,'” Liu Wenrui provided a timely commentary.

“He talks a big game,” Zou Yang remarked.

“Of course, talk big first to enjoy the moment. If a fight breaks out, we have Fan Jun anyway,” Li Zhiyue said.

Zhang Chuanlong didn’t say anything, just offered a pleased smile.

Judging by the video, his words didn’t have much of an effect. A man whose face was obscured pointed back at him and snapped something, and this line was actually audible.

“None of your damn business, stay out of it!”

“Is it any of your damn business then?” In the video, Liu Wenrui began pointing fingers back at them too.

“I didn’t deliver that line well; it lacked punch,” Liu Wenrui shook his head beside him, then pointed excitedly at the screen. “Right here, starting from here, Fan Jun steps up!”

Zou Yang looked up at Fan Jun, who was leaning in close next to him, also watching.

“Look here first.” Liu Wenrui stood behind him, grabbing his head to turn his face back toward the screen.

The moment Liu Wenrui finished speaking, Fan Jun stood right in front of the crowd, remaining silent and motionless.

To be honest, even in a top-down surveillance video, you could clearly tell that Fan Jun’s aura was completely different from Liu Wenrui and the others. His eldest aunt’s group instantly froze.

After a second of silence, an unidentified man behind his eldest aunt rushed forward sideways, slamming his shoulder into Fan Jun.

Fan Jun didn’t dodge; it was obvious he was waiting for exactly this move. When the unidentified man realized he hadn’t managed to budge him, he took a step back to try again. But before he could even find his footing, Fan Jun swiftly closed the distance and gave him a firm shove on the shoulder.

This push used very clever leverage; it didn’t even look like he exerted much force, but the man fell straight back into the people behind him. Because no one caught him, he landed squarely on his backside on the floor.

His eldest aunt’s group immediately descended into chaos. Someone yelled, “He’s hitting people!” and two men instantly charged at Fan Jun.

Fan Jun turned sideways, using his right hand to block one man’s arm, while simultaneously extending his leg to hook a swivel chair sitting by the front desk. Stepping onto the seat, he kicked it forward, sending it crashing into the other man.

“Did you see that! Seamless!” Liu Wenrui’s hand reached past Zou Yang’s ear, tapping furiously on the screen. “Absolutely seamless!”

Then, while still holding the first man’s wrist, Fan Jun gave another push. The man stumbled and landed on his backside on the floor as well. Fan Jun stepped forward, kicking the chair once more to drive back the people who were trying to push their way in.

After those two moves, the crowd was forced all the way back to the doorway.

“What are you guys doing?” Zou Yang asked as he watched Liu Wenrui and Zhang Chuanlong darting back and forth along the flanks of the crowd. “Practicing your side-steps? Where’s Li Zhiyue? Did he run away?”

“He went to fetch chairs,” Fan Jun said.

“It’s a brawl now, it’s a total brawl!” Zhang Chuanlong warned them to stop chatting.

Li Zhiyue was dragging a chair in each hand while kicking a third one forward with his feet. Three swivel chairs were rolled all the way from the office area to the entrance. Liu Wenrui and Zhang Chuanlong moved in perfect sync, each grabbing a chair and copying Fan Jun’s technique, kicking the chairs forward to push the crowd out the door.

Just as the crowd was about to be pushed out into the hallway, Zou Yang saw his eldest aunt’s son—his cousin—vault over a chair and completely flip Liu Wenrui over.

Liu Wenrui let out a tsk beside him.

Right after that, several people jumped over the chairs and charged inside, while others tripped and fell trying to clear them—like his second aunt.

Amidst the absolute chaos, only Fan Jun managed to maintain his regular rhythm.

From beginning to end, he never threw a single punch, nor did he ever deliver a direct kick. He relied entirely on blocking, pushing, capturing wrists and pushing, grabbing collars and pushing, seizing arms and pushing…

He barely even used his left hand.

For over three minutes, the crowd was pinned firmly by the doorway. By the time the police arrived, they hadn’t even managed to breach past the front desk.

“Did you see that? Damn, did you see that?” Liu Wenrui tapped on the table. “Textbook coolness. When the officer watched the video, he even asked if he had formal training.”

“Yeah,” Zou Yang murmured.

Strictly speaking, it hadn’t really developed into a full-blown fight. Fan Jun hadn’t truly thrown blows the entire time, but that composed, unhurried demeanor that simply no one could break through was indeed incredibly impressive.

“Brother Fan was incredibly restrained,” Li Zhiyue said.

“Exactly,” Liu Wenrui nodded. “If it had been Zou Yang, he definitely would have held them off too, but he absolutely would have beaten a few faces into swollen pulps. Once the police arrived, it definitely would have been classified as a gang brawl, and we’d be eating this lunch at the police station right now…”

“Get lost,” Zou Yang said. “Order the food.”

The waiter had already stepped in once before, but seeing their intense, animated state, they had quietly slipped back out.

As the guys called the waiter back in to order, Zou Yang rewound the video, watching it all over again from the moment Fan Jun blocked the crowd, before saving the file to his phone.

“You’re keeping that?” Fan Jun asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded. “As a memento.”

“Kiddo.” Fan Jun’s hand slipped beneath the table, touching his leg and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Zou Yang,” Liu Wenrui turned to look at him the exact second the waiter stepped out after taking the order. “Tell us about the will. How much stuff did he leave you?”

“A pair of slippers,” Zou Yang grinned.

“Screw off!” the guys shouted in unison.

“Is it the will from before he withdrew from public life?” Li Zhiyue stood up to grab the teapot the waiter had just brought in, asking as he poured tea for everyone.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang replied.

“Then it’s bound to be a lot,” Liu Wenrui said. “What is there?”

“A villa,” Zou Yang said, “and…”

“Holy shit!” Liu Wenrui slapped the table. “Where is it?”

“Jinchuan No. 1,” Zou Yang said.

“Let me check,” Li Zhiyue immediately pulled out his phone. “Let’s see what the approximate square footage is.”

“Anything else?” Zhang Chuanlong asked.

“My dad owns a small calligraphy and painting institute where he usually takes clients,” Zou Yang leaned against the back of his chair, staring at the teacup in front of him. “He left that to me, but it can’t be resold.”

“That’s fine, not reselling is perfectly fine,” Liu Wenrui said. “If you can run it, run it. If you can’t, just let it go bankrupt naturally.”

“Aside from that, there’s his collection of books, calligraphy, and paintings.” Zou Yang said.

“Are any of them valuable?” Liu Wenrui asked.

“They’re worth something, but probably nothing extraordinarily valuable,” Zou Yang thought about it. “He was a businessman after all. If he had something truly exceptional and the price was right, he would always sell it off…”

As he spoke about these things, a strange sensation washed over Zou Yang’s heart.

He had initially assumed that once the reading of the will was over, he would just follow the procedures as required without giving it another thought. He didn’t care when the money or the properties would be transferred; none of it mattered to him, and it would all be over.

Now it truly was over, yet he was starting to feel a deep ache.

He hadn’t known the true extent of his father’s wealth, nor had he ever wondered how much his father would leave him in his will.

But hearing Lawyer Cao read out those terms, a sudden wave of hatred for his father surged within him.

If the man hadn’t left him a single thing, he probably wouldn’t have experienced any emotional turbulence.

He knew perfectly well that everything his father offered came with strings attached. He had to meet every single condition perfectly, had to be the flawless son of Zou Yanqing, just to earn his father’s approval and a few rare moments of warmth.

Yet none of this was required of his sister, Zou Tianrui. She could be willful, overbearing, completely lacking in manners, and utterly uneducated.

Their father demanded nothing from her; he gave her nothing but pure adoration, even if that adoration was entirely misplaced.

The bitter irony was that his father had still left him a significant inheritance in the will—especially the calligraphy and painting institute and those pieces of art. It felt like a massive, reversing sledgehammer slamming right into Zou Yang.

See? No matter how much resentment and misunderstanding you held against me, no matter how much harsh criticism and pain I inflicted on you, I was still thinking of you in the end.

Even if you were just putting on an act, even if you were only doing it for the money, I still left you the very passions I believed we shared as father and son…

The moment he heard the contents of the will, that faint, indescribable tinge of regret made Zou Yang feel utterly furious.

The man who had caused him to live over a decade in suffocating misery and depression had, at the very end, delivered a heavy blow disguised as a grand act of “paternal love.”

It was a helpless, directionless rage that had nowhere to go.

And now, he no longer had a living target toward whom he could direct those emotions.

“Zou Yang.” Fan Jun’s voice sounded right beside his ear.

His hand was also firmly gripped by Fan Jun.

“I…” Zou Yang slowly pulled himself together, “I’m fine.”

Fan Jun took off his glasses and pressed a paper towel gently against his eyes.

Only then did he realize that his face was already covered in tears.

“I’m going to the restroom,” Li Zhiyue stood up. “Wenrui, why don’t you and Longlong go… check on the food?”

“Let’s see if they have any good drinks while we’re at it,” Liu Wenrui stood up as well. “Let’s go, Longlong.”

“Oh,” Zhang Chuanlong rose and followed the two of them out of the private room.

“I’m really fine, really…” Zou Yang leaned forward, resting his eyes against Fan Jun’s hand.

“Yeah,” Fan Jun wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I know. You really are fine this time.”

“I’m just angry,” Zou Yang’s voice trembled. “So, so angry.”

“Yeah,” Fan Jun rubbed his arm comfortingly.

“He was clearly never satisfied with me! Dissatisfied with everything, completely everything! He was even unhappy because parts of my personality resembled my mom!” Zou Yang bit his lip, his tears refusing to stop. “Just because I am myself, he wasn’t satisfied!”

“There won’t be any of that anymore,” Fan Jun removed the paper towel from his eyes, stood up to hold his shoulders, and pressed Zou Yang’s face against his stomach, running his fingers firmly through his hair. “From now on, there’s no one left who is dissatisfied with you, Zou Yang. Everyone you know is incredibly proud of you…”

Zou Yang wrapped his arms tightly around Fan Jun’s waist, his fingers digging in so hard it almost hurt.

After a few seconds of silence, a sob broke from Zou Yang.

It was a raw, roaring, agonizing cry.

At first, it was filled with pure rage and grievance, but gradually it dissolved into a completely unbridled, cathartic weeping.

Fan Jun didn’t know how to comfort him, and it seemed no comfort was needed.

Zou Yang just needed to fully let out all that built-up emotion.

He held Zou Yang tightly, cradling his trembling shoulders.

And listened in silence.

After what felt like an eternity, Zou Yang’s crying quieted down, leaving only occasional, soft hiccups.

Fan Jun could hear the voices of Liu Wenrui and the others talking to a waiter outside the door. It sounded like the waiter had already brought a few dishes over, but they had blocked them from entering.

Zou Yang turned his head, took a deep breath, and pulled over a tissue to wipe his face.

He stared blankly for another moment before releasing his grip on Fan Jun, leaning back into his chair, and letting out a long, deep sigh toward the ceiling.

“How do you feel?” Fan Jun gently brushed his finger against the tip of his nose.

“Relieved.” A smile tugged at the corner of Zou Yang’s lips.

“Should I let them in?” Fan Jun asked.

“Yeah,” Zou Yang nodded. “I’m starving.”

Before Fan Jun could even walk to the door to call them, Zou Yang turned toward the entrance and yelled, “Liu Wenrui!”

The door flew open instantly, and Liu Wenrui poked his head in. “Yo!”

“Time to eat,” Zou Yang sniffled.

“You got it,” Liu Wenrui opened the door wide. “Hold on, we’ll serve the food right up.”

The group carried several plates from the serving station outside, walking in together and setting the dishes down on the table.

“Is there more?” Zou Yang asked.

“Yep,” Liu Wenrui said. “We went all out with the ordering today. No matter what, we are absolutely fleecing this golden goose today.”

Zou Yang laughed, picked up a wet wipe from the table to casually wipe his face, and put his glasses back on.

The waiter brought in the bottle of red wine and the drinks they had ordered.

“We’ll have the wine, Brother Fan gets the soft drinks.” Liu Wenrui stood up to pour Fan Jun’s drink before pouring the wine for everyone else.

“Should someone say a few words?” Li Zhiyue raised his glass.

“Yeah,” Zhang Chuanlong cleared his throat.

“You wait a second,” Liu Wenrui looked at him.

“I’m not speaking,” Zhang Chuanlong raised his glass too. “I’m waiting for you guys to talk.”

“…Who’s going first?” Liu Wenrui looked at Zou Yang.

“Let’s make a toast to something.” Zou Yang held his glass and turned to look at Fan Jun.

Faced with four Chinese Literature majors all holding their glasses and staring intently at him, Fan Jun—a graduate of No. 21 High School—felt an immense wave of pressure.

He picked up his drink, hesitated for a moment, and said, “Then… to tomorrow.”

“To tomorrow,” Zou Yang smiled.

“To tomorrow!” everyone chorused together.