Chapter 92: The Rampaging Bastard Is Not to Be Messed With

  Zhang Yang sat in Gao Qi’s Chevrolet, flooring the accelerator as the car roared forward. Right now, he wished he’d mastered Advanced Driving Technique—then he could’ve reached Royal Hee in just a few minutes.

  Royal Hee in Jingyue District was Meining’s only six-star hotel, about ten kilometers from the villa. Even driving slowly, it wouldn’t take twenty minutes. But Zhang Yang was burning with anxiety—he didn’t care about traffic laws anymore. He’d tried calling Qiao Xier repeatedly, but no one answered. He didn’t even know if what she’d said was true or not.

  If it was true, Zhang Yang couldn’t imagine it. Even if it wasn’t, he still had an uncontrollable urge to see her.

  He had no idea how many red lights he ran or how many times he sped, but miraculously, he reached the Royal Hee Hotel in just eight minutes and stormed straight into the lobby.

  Two handsome doormen watched him barge in like a rampaging dinosaur and instinctively reached for their radios to call security.

  Before the guards could stop him, Zhang Yang was already at the front desk, glaring at the receptionists. “Check for me—has someone named Qiao Xier checked in here?”

  The two pretty receptionists stayed calm. Seeing how furious he looked, they guessed he might be here to catch someone cheating. But this was a six-star hotel—did they look like they cared about adultery?

  They didn’t check marriage certificates here.

  The taller one answered in a professional tone, “Sorry, sir, we’re not authorized to disclose guest information.”

  “Listen to me—the girl named Qiao Xier is in danger right now. If anything happens to her, even the tiniest thing, none of you will be qualified to die alongside her.”

  “Oh, really? I doubt that,” the tall one said with a shrug. She wasn’t easily scared—she’d seen plenty of men come storming in over affairs, spewing lies in a fit of rage.

  Zhang Yang’s fury exploded. He clenched his fists and slammed one hard on the counter. “You’ve got thirty seconds to check, or you’ll find out exactly what I’ll do next!” he roared.

  That startled the receptionist. She screamed and called for security.

  But before she could, four security guards rushed over and surrounded Zhang Yang. By then, he was already beyond reason—he struck hard and fast, fists and kicks flying. In moments, three guards were down, the last one got grabbed and thrown behind the counter like a rag doll. Zhang Yang glared at the trembling receptionist. “Twenty seconds left.”

  The girl was so terrified she literally peed herself, squatting on the floor with her skirt damp, screaming for help but refusing to touch the computer.

  Zhang Yang lost patience, shoved her aside, grabbed the other receptionist, pinned her to the computer, one hand gripping her throat. “Fifteen seconds.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The girl froze, staring at the merciless beast before her, trembling as she stammered, “I’ll check! I’ll check!”

  She typed quickly, entered Qiao Xier’s name, hit confirm, then looked at the blank screen and whimpered, “Sir… there’s no one under that name.”

  “Impossible! She said she was here.” Zhang Yang’s fingers tightened around her neck.

  The girl’s face twisted in pain. “Impossible! Our hotel is very strict. Even visitors must show ID unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless she went to the rooftop revolving restaurant.”

  “Revolving restaurant?” That was over thirty floors up. If she wasn’t there, he’d waste precious minutes. Zhang Yang hesitated.

  “Sir… please loosen your grip—or maybe describe what your guest looks like. We might remember her.” Gasping for air, the receptionist blurted out the idea.

  Zhang Yang loosened his grip slightly and nodded. “She’s tall and beautiful, about one seventy-five, ponytail, wearing canvas shoes or light purple crystal-trimmed leather boots—two hearts on them. She’s in a purple low-V evening gown, driving an R8 or A6, carrying a white LV bag with a silly pink pig charm on it.”

  “Sir, I know who you mean—you’ve described her perfectly. She’s in the revolving restaurant with a very handsome young gentleman.”

  “Thanks.” Zhang Yang released her, pulled several thousand yuan from his pocket, and tossed it on the counter. “I’ll come back to apologize later.”

  He dashed into the elevator and hit the button for the top floor.

  The receptionist rubbed her sore neck and collapsed to the floor. Glancing at her colleague sprawled nearby, tears welled up in her eyes. She shouted at the groaning guards, “Call the police already!”

  Zhang Yang heard her, but he didn’t care. Even if the King of Heaven himself showed up, he wouldn’t stop now.

  On the top floor, two waiters approached, frowning. “Sorry, sir, this area’s reserved tonight.”

  Zhang Yang ignored them and shoved them aside. Two bodyguards in suits and sunglasses immediately stepped in to block him.

  “What’s going on?” one of them demanded, their faces tense.

  “Move.” These two clearly weren’t hotel staff—they had to be that so-called handsome guy’s bodyguards. No reason to be polite.

  “Well, looks like trouble.” One bodyguard took off his sunglasses, cracking his knuckles. He loved a warm-up.

  Before he could even lift his fist, Zhang Yang’s kick smashed into his ankle, and before the man could fall, Zhang Yang’s hand struck the back of his head, knocking him out cold.

  The other one froze. What the hell—did this guy even know the rules? Who attacked that dirty?

  He didn’t even get the chance to flee. Zhang Yang was already on him, punching fast and hard. The man might’ve trained a bit, but to Zhang Yang, he was just a rookie. In less than ten seconds, his face was swollen from repeated blows, and Zhang Yang twisted his arm until it looked like a pretzel. The guy screamed miserably.

  Then Zhang Yang saw them—two people sitting quietly in the middle of the revolving restaurant. A violinist nearby stood frozen, the elegant melody cut off mid-note.

  One of them was Qiao Xier, just as Zhang Yang had guessed. Ponytail, purple low-V evening dress, pale purple crystal-trimmed boots.

  Opposite her sat a handsome young man in a tailored black suit with a red bow tie. Good-looking, Zhang Yang admitted, though not better than him.

  The man stared at Zhang Yang, calm and composed.

  He stood up, hands behind his back, walking toward Zhang Yang with an air of arrogance, as if he owned the place.

  “You’re Zhang Yang?” he asked. Tall, maybe slightly taller than Zhang Yang, with a sharp nose, narrow eyes, and thin lips—yeah, the guy was pretty enough to make girls swoon.

  “And who the hell are you?” Zhang Yang’s eyes swept past him toward Qiao Xier. Her clothes were intact, she wasn’t on the floor—so, not assaulted yet. He relaxed slightly.

  “Heh, interesting. You’re the first person to dare talk to me like that.” The bow-tied pretty boy rolled up his sleeves, clearly itching for a fight. Then he looked back at Qiao Xier and sneered. “Old classmate, this is the country bumpkin you like so much?”

  Qiao Xier nodded.

  Zhang Yang snapped, shouting at her, “Who the hell is this clown?”

  “Don’t know. Maybe a classmate now, maybe a fiancé tomorrow.” Qiao Xier twirled her wine glass lazily, her tone indifferent.

  “You hear that? Obviously, you’re not welcome here. Get the hell out,” said the bow-tied man. Before he even finished, Zhang Yang slapped him so hard his eyes rolled back. Damn, that was easy. So much for being some top fighter.

  The man staggered several steps, barely staying on his feet. “You—you hit me?!” he shouted, stunned.

  Even Qiao Xier froze, putting her glass down and staring at Zhang Yang wide-eyed.

  Zhang Yang stepped up, grabbed the guy by the ear, and slapped him twice more. “Yeah, I hit you. What of it?”

  The guy’s face swelled instantly. He tried to kick Zhang Yang, but before he could, Zhang Yang swept his leg. Losing balance, the man’s other foot was kicked hard at the ankle.

  The bow-tied man did a full split midair and crashed to the floor, clutching his balls and screaming in agony.

  Zhang Yang crouched beside him, twisted his ear, half-lifting him up, and smacked him again. “Listen up. You wanna chase Qiao Xier? Only over my dead body. Next time I catch you with her, I won’t guarantee your balls stay intact.”

  Then, without hesitation, Zhang Yang pushed him down, stepped on him, and walked straight to Qiao Xier. Before she could react, he scooped her up and carried her toward the elevator.

  The battered man finally managed to get up, wiping dust off his face, and roared at the violinist, “Call the damn police already!”

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