Chapter 147 — The Long-Awaited...

Wei Dekang was no different. He would not permit Zhou Xiaoming and Ma Fengzi to grow too close. Both were men he trusted, and within the company they stood above a hundred others, second only to one. If the two ever conspired to do something against the company's interests, Wei Dekang would be hard-pressed to guard against it. The only way, then, was to divide them, to keep them seemingly in harmony while secretly at odds.

So Wei Dekang often assigned one or the other alone to lucrative work, and thus envy and rivalry grew between them. For this shantytown demolition, Wei Dekang had thought sending a crude fellow like Ma Fengzi would be enough—he could also intimidate the stubborn holdouts who refused to move. He had never imagined that such a simple job would be botched before the demolition even began.

What galled him most was this: if you got into a brawl with a holdout and took a beating, fine, that happened. But why in the world did you have to go picking a fight with some random stranger having breakfast? If that is not idle mischief, what is?

Wei Dekang was furious. Ma Fengzi had turned out to be so utterly brainless, and now he had no choice but to send Zhou Xiaoming to clean up the mess.

Zhou Xiaoming drove off smugly in a modern minivan temporarily assigned to him for demolition work, carrying two subordinates and the three men's mistresses, all bound for the Baoshun Spicy Hotpot restaurant.

"Brother Zhou, congratulations on getting your hands on the demolition purse strings." One of Zhou Xiaoming's men, Zheng Lvzi, offered his congratulations with a grin. "With this, I figure you'll clear at least eighty or a hundred thousand, easy."

"A hundred thousand, maybe eighty thousand." Zhou Xiaoming smiled smugly. "No, that's far too little. This time we can pull in at least three or five hundred thousand, heh heh. Those demolition households—just toss each family a little something, and the rest of the money is ours. You two won't be left out either. This time it's five hundred thousand apiece at the very least."

"Holy hell, Brother Zhou, that much? That's amazing," Zheng Lüzi said excitedly, groping his mistress's rear.

"Brother Zhou, what if we just don't give them any money? What can they do to us? Whoever doesn't like it, we beat the crap out of them," said Niu Xiaobo, another of Zhou Xiaoming's underlings.

"Brainless. You make it sound so simple." Zhou Xiaoming glared at him. "Don't pay? Then won't they go and report you? The money has to be paid—we can pay less, pay according to the lowest standard, but we can't pay nothing. No matter where we go, we'll be in the right, and I doubt they can stir up any trouble. If you don't pay up, aren't you just as big an idiot as that Madman Ma?"

"Right, right, that's why Brother Zhou thinks things through so carefully—nothing like that fool Madman Ma," Zheng Lüzi said, tugging at Niu Xiaobo and echoing him hurriedly. This Niu Xiaobo just talked without thinking. How could he go and upset Brother Zhou at a time like this?

"Exactly, exactly. Otherwise how would he be Brother Zhou? Brother Zhou, Brother Zhou, Brother Thorough Zhou," Niu Xiaobo nodded and agreed at once.

Zhou Xiaoming was caught between laughing and crying at Niu Xiaobo's flattery, but the fellow was amusing enough, and a decent enforcer besides. Above all, he did what he was told.

Zhou Xiaoming parked the car in the lot at Baoshun Hot Pot, then went into the restaurant with his two underlings and three mistresses.

"Hello, welcome. Do the six of you have a reservation?" the waiter asked warmly as Zhou Xiaoming's group came in.

"Room 208. We called ahead," Zhou Xiaoming said.

"Very good, sir. Please follow me." The waiter nodded and led Zhou Xiaoming's party upstairs to the large private room on the upper floor—the very room where Yang Ce and the others were sitting.

"Sir, madam, please come in." The waiter opened the door and gestured for Zhou Xiaoming to enter.

Zhou Xiaoming stepped inside and saw the screen placed in the middle of the room at a glance. He had no idea anyone was on the other side of it, so he asked with some puzzlement, "What's this screen doing in the middle of the room? It blocks the light—why not put it away?"

The waiter had already received instructions from the lobby manager, so he said, "I'm sorry, sir, but this is a large private room, and it can seat two tables of guests. There are other guests over there."

"What did you say? There are other people in this room?" Zhou Xiaoming was taken aback, and his face darkened at once. "What kind of place are you running here? How can one private room seat two tables of guests?"

"Sir, there are only six of you, and you won't need two tables. The other guests haven't got anywhere else to dine," the waiter explained.

"Didn't you say before that the minimum spend for a large private room was five hundred? It's not as if we can't afford it. What, you looking down on us?" Niu Xiaobo was instantly displeased.

"That's certainly not what we mean," the waiter said, lowering his head a little in fear at the three men's ferocious tempers.

"Hurry up and get your manager down here, and we'll have a word about what this is supposed to mean," Niu Xiaobo said furiously.

"Sir, our manager isn't in the restaurant right now," the waiter said, put in a difficult position.

"Damn it, don't think I won't tear this place apart," Niu Xiaobo threatened, glaring.

"What's going on?" Liu Ting had also heard the newcomers arguing, and she asked Liu Baoqiang quietly.

"We've run into some difficult customers," Liu Baoqiang said, also at a loss. He had thought that once the guests who had booked the room arrived, a bit of smooth talking would settle things. He had not expected the other party to be so overbearing.

"Why don't we eat down in the main hall? It's no trouble," Yang Yongjin said, not wanting to put Liu Baoqiang in a difficult spot. After all, the man had opened his doors for business; the customer was king.

"How could I put you to that trouble?" That was the worst-case scenario Liu Baoqiang had pictured too, though it meant slighting Yang Ce and the others.

"What trouble is there? We're all friends here. What difference does it make where we eat?" Yang Hengye said. "Mengyan and I don't mind either way. Liu Ting, what about you?"

Liu Ting certainly did not mind. Hearing Yang Cenbin say so, she felt a rush of gratitude and nodded. "If you all put it that way, what's there for me to be particular about?"

So Liu Baoqiang stood up, meaning to tell the waiter that they would eat downstairs—but before he could move, he heard a few more words from the other side, and Yang Lanxu was struck by a sudden thought. He called out quickly to Liu Baoqiang: "Baoqiang, wait a moment."

On the other side of the screen, Zhou Xiaoming suddenly thought of Madman Ma's clash with someone that very morning, and his heart gave a jolt. The smug, carried-away mood he had been in cleared at once.

Hadn't Madman Ma been sent to the hospital precisely because he got into a fight with diners he didn't know? And now he himself must not risk the greater for the lesser. At that thought, Zhou Xiaoming grabbed Niu Xiaobo, who was about to keep throwing his weight around. "Xiaobo, that's enough. Don't you remember how Madman Ma ended up in the hospital?"

Niu Xiaobo froze. Fool that he was, he still understood what Zhou Xiaoming meant, and he shut his mouth at once.

"This is a delicate time. Whatever you do, don't go courting trouble," Zhou Xiaoming said to Niu Xiaobo and Zheng Lüzi. "You two remember this: the chance to handle the shantytown demolition didn't come easily. If Madman Ma hadn't landed in the hospital, would it ever have been our turn?"

It was precisely these few words of Zhou Xiaoming's that caught Yang Juehuan's attention. Madman Ma. The shantytown demolition. Could this fellow be the new demolition chief that Dekang Real Estate had appointed after Madman Ma?