Chapter Sixty-Six: The Eruption of Anger

“How much equity can you offer me?”
Hearing Han Chen’s question, the corners of Zhao Fan’s lips curled slightly—Han Chen was interested.
“Thirty percent.”
Han Chen’s eyes flickered. Thirty percent was no small share. He couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you afraid I might be deceiving you?”
Zhao Fan replied, “Even if I trade thirty percent of the equity for a swindler, I wouldn’t consider it a loss.”
He thought to himself, My company is just an empty shell at this point, barely staffed. If a swindler joined, he’d be the first to run.
More importantly, Zhao Fan had memories from his previous life and was quite certain Han Chen wasn’t a fraud.
With all these thoughts, Zhao Fan smiled, his face confident and assured.
Han Chen stared at him and suddenly laughed.
“No wonder you could already be a boss back when you were still a student. In this, I have to admit I fall short. Thirty percent equity—I’ll take it.”
Zhao Fan nodded, “I didn’t bring the contract today. Once I have it ready, we’ll sign. For now, let’s exchange contact details.”
“Alright.”
Han Chen nodded, and the two exchanged phone numbers.
Afterward, Zhao Fan and Han Chen chatted about the internet as they ate.
Drawing on his memories from his past life, Zhao Fan mentioned a few things, and Han Chen treated them as treasures. By the end, he set aside his meal, pulled out a notebook, and focused on jotting down inspiration.
With swift strokes, he soon filled a page.
Watching him, Zhao Fan couldn’t help but sigh inwardly—this was what genius looked like.
If anyone else heard these ideas, at most they’d be impressed. But Han Chen, once inspired, could flesh out all the minute details.
Because Han Chen kept refining Zhao Fan’s suggestions, the meal stretched to three hours. The food went cold and was replaced, only to go cold again.
Eventually, Zhao Fan simply asked the staff not to serve any more dishes and had the previous ones packed up. He and Yang Yuqing chatted quietly off to the side.
“Alright, we’ll go with this.”
The sudden declaration drew Zhao Fan and Yang Yuqing’s attention. They exchanged a glance, both seeing the relief in each other’s eyes.
It was finally over.
Han Chen hugged his notebook to his chest as if it were a treasure.
“Let’s go, I need to get back to my computer.”
Zhao Fan and Yang Yuqing walked him back to his place before leaving. The afternoon sun blazed overhead, glaring and oppressive as they walked beneath its rays.
“Miss Yang, thank you for your help today.” Thinking of the money he’d soon make, Zhao Fan was in high spirits, his tone unmistakably cheerful.

“Miss Yang, Miss Yang, aren’t we at least acquaintances by now? Calling you that all the time feels so distant, don’t you think?”
Zhao Fan looked at Yang Yuqing’s back. He couldn’t see her face, but he sensed her irritation and quickly apologized.
“My fault. How about I call you Yuqing?”
Yang Yuqing pursed her lips in a smile and turned to face him. “That’s fine.”
Seeing the smile on her face, Zhao Fan breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, from now on, I’ll call you Yu—um…”
A fist came at him from the side, landing squarely on his face and knocking him aside.
His smile froze. Yang Yuqing turned to see Bai Yu suddenly appear, fury flashing in her eyes. “Bai Yu, what are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Yang Yuqing, I should be asking you! You’re mine, yet here you are flirting with this pretty boy from the countryside. Where’s the Bai family’s dignity?”
Bai Yu was seething. He’d seen Yang Yuqing and Zhao Fan laughing together from afar, and his anger had erupted. How could a nobody dare covet what was his?
Zhao Fan propped himself up, rubbing his sore cheek. “The Bai family’s dignity? I thought it vanished when you started going back on your word.”
Bai Yu glared. “What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t you understand? I’m saying you and your father threw away the Bai family’s dignity long ago. There’s no integrity left, yet you still expect others to…”
Before he could finish, Zhao Fan deftly sidestepped Bai Yu’s swinging fist and kicked hard at his knee.
With a thud, Bai Yu fell heavily to his knees.
The sudden jolt of pain drew a wretched scream from Bai Yu, his features contorting.
Zhao Fan stepped back. “Oh my, that’s quite a grand gesture, but I have no red envelope for you, Young Master Bai. Hurry and get up.”
Despite his words, Zhao Fan made no move to help, even retreating further and pulling Yang Yuqing with him.
Seeing this, Bai Yu grew only angrier, his hand trembling as he pointed at Zhao Fan. “Zhao—Zhao Fan, you’ve got guts. If I don’t beat you half to death today, I’ll take your surname!”
He staggered to his feet and limped toward Zhao Fan.
Zhao Fan clicked his tongue. “I have no intention of accepting a son, and I don’t recognize this kind of name change.”
“Zhao Fan!” Bai Yu shrieked. “What are you all standing around for? Get over here and beat him—beat him to a pulp!”
A dozen bodyguards surged out from the surroundings, encircling Zhao Fan and Yang Yuqing.
The wind swept through, and the atmosphere grew tense.
Yang Yuqing peeked out, her brow furrowed. “Bai Yu, in broad daylight, are you really going to commit murder? Tell them to back off.”
“Back off? Hah. If I don’t die today, he will.”
Bai Yu’s eyes were bloodshot, his rage consuming him. With a wave of his hand, the bodyguards lunged at Zhao Fan.
The next moment, Yang Yuqing crouched down, pulling Zhao Fan with her and shielding him. “I’d like to see which of you dares touch him!”

Zhao Fan, who'd been about to make a move, was left speechless.
The Bai family’s bodyguards froze, instinctively looking to Bai Yu.
Young Master, what now?
Bai Yu’s face contorted once more. “Yang Yuqing, you insist on protecting him? I am—”
“You are nothing,” Yang Yuqing cut him off, her voice cold as ice. “You’ve never been anything from the start. Bai Yu, stop deluding yourself.”
She had never liked Bai Yu—not now, not ever.
At that moment, Zhao Fan pushed Yang Yuqing aside.
“There’s no point wasting words on someone so arrogant and narcissistic. Teach him a lesson and he’ll know his place.”
The moment he finished, Zhao Fan charged at Bai Yu. Let’s see who wins—me or the bodyguards.
Bang!
Zhao Fan pinned Bai Yu to the ground and began pummeling his face with his fists.
“Ah—Zhao Fan, you dare—mmph…”
Bai Yu was beaten mercilessly, at first able to shout, but soon reduced to screams of pain.
The bodyguards behind kicked and punched, trying to pull Zhao Fan away, but he ignored them, focusing solely on Bai Yu. Gradually, Bai Yu’s cries faded.
As the situation spiraled out of control, Yang Yuqing panicked. “Zhao Fan, stop! That’s enough—you’ll kill him!”
Suddenly, a figure rushed forward, grabbed Zhao Fan’s fist, and yanked him away from Bai Yu.
Even then, Zhao Fan found the chance to land another kick on Bai Yu.
“Members of the Bai family… Bai Yu, if you ever come looking for trouble again, I’ll finish you off myself!”
Again and again, did they think Zhao Fan was made of dough?
“Get lost!”
The bodyguards hurriedly carried Bai Yu away.