“I already tried giving it to her, but she refused to accept it. I heard the two of you are quite close, so I thought I’d try my luck with you.”

“If you know we’re close, then surely you also know we’re on the verge of becoming something more?” My voice grew colder.

“But you’re not together yet, are you?” Yi Zhen’s smile remained unwavering. “Can you pass it on for me?”

“No.” I had no interest in entertaining this conversation any longer.

I expected Yi Zhen to lose his temper, but to my surprise, he merely sighed in disappointment and put the necklace away.

“As expected… No, huh? Well, I’ll have to come up with another plan.” He turned to leave.

“Hey… shouldn’t you at least ask Zuo Fei how much it would take for him to change his mind?” HOUZI called after him.

Yi Zhen paused and looked back. “Really?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Come on, name your price! You never know—Zuo Fei might just be tempted!” HOUZI, ever the troublemaker, was reveling in the spectacle.

“One hundred yuan. How about that?” Yi Zhen actually made an offer.

Before I could respond, HOUZI had already rushed forward. “Done, done! I can handle this too!”

Not to be outdone, Huang Jie jumped in. “I can do it for ninety!”

“Eighty!”

“Seventy!”

“I only want Zuo Fei to deliver it.” Yi Zhen cut off their bidding war.

Both HOUZI and Huang Jie turned to me, their faces glowing with the unmistakable look of someone who’s just stumbled upon a golden opportunity.

“I won’t do it. Even if you offer me a thousand, ten thousand—I won’t do it.”

Yi Zhen’s insistence on me delivering it exposed his true intent. This wasn’t merely about passing along a necklace—it was a challenge, a provocation, a declaration of war.

He shook his head once more and walked away.

“Hey, are we still friends?” HOUZI called after him again.

“Yes.” Yi Zhen flashed a perfectly composed, impeccably polite smile—the kind only a child from an affluent family could master.

“Great!” HOUZI beamed. “Lend me five yuan.”

…

With five yuan in his pocket, HOUZI was bouncing around the dormitory in delight, while Huang Jie, having missed his chance, wore a look of deep regret, grumbling that they should split the money.

“Are you two serious?” I knew they were just messing around, but this wasn’t amusing to me in the slightest. Yi Zhen was clearly my rival.

HOUZI suddenly quieted down. “Zuo Fei, since you’ve been at Dongcheng No. 1 High, have you heard the saying, ‘Better to provoke the Big Cat than to cross Yi Zhen’?”

“It’s true,” came a voice from the bed. Ma Jie, half-asleep, chimed in lazily, “Yi Zhen is just too rich. When you have money, you can crush anything in your path.”

“Shut up.” I shot Ma Jie a glare, and he immediately withdrew his head under the covers. Then I said, “Never heard it before. And even if I had, I don’t care how untouchable he is—he won’t lay a finger on Lin Ke’er.”

“All I’m saying is, you can go head-to-head with the Big Cat, but don’t clash with Yi Zhen outright. If you want to take him on, be subtle, be strategic. That’s my advice.”

HOUZI yawned. “Alright, I’m out.” He and Huang Jie left the dormitory.

I thought for a moment, then ran out and yelled after them, “You two better not be heading to the internet café!” But, of course, it was already too late.

Lying back on my bed, I replayed Yi Zhen’s words in my mind, feeling more and more irritated. Who wouldn’t be, knowing someone had set their sights on their girlfriend? By now, I had already regarded Lin Ke’er as my own.

But no matter how frustrated I felt, I had bigger things to handle first.

The next morning, I dragged HOUZI and Huang Jie back from the internet café. They had been up all night and needed sleep. Huang Jie was easy—he was already exhausted and went with me without resistance. But HOUZI, still brimming with energy, clung to his chair and refused to budge, shouting, “I can’t let my teammates down! Shanxi Province will become a joke if I back out now!”

I shut his computer off without a second thought. HOUZI was so furious he nearly fainted on the spot. I could never understand how a game could be this important.

After forcibly dragging them back to the dorm and shoving them into bed like some kind of nanny, I spent the day under a tree, watching the others train. It was the final day of military drills, and everyone was reluctantly bidding farewell to their instructors.

Wang Yao showed up again, leading her ‘Thirteen Roses’ entourage to find me. She was certainly taking her role as my self-appointed protector very seriously.

But after tonight, she wouldn’t need to protect me anymore.

By evening, a tense atmosphere hung over all of the first-year students. Word had spread—tonight, the Ninth Prince was planning a dorm raid.

As soon as night classes ended, I rushed to HOUZI’s dormitory. He was still asleep. Surely, after an entire day in bed, he had to be well-rested by now?

“HOUZI! HOUZI!” I shouted.

He groaned, rolled over, and mumbled, “Shove your damn kill count. If you can’t play, just go home and drink milk.”

I shook him harder, but he still wouldn’t wake up. He muttered, “Can’t abandon my teammates, Zuo Fei… You’re such a traitor.”

I was getting impatient. “All you people from Shanxi are idiots!”

HOUZI sat up in an instant. “Who said that?! Bullshit!”

Now that he was up, we went to wake Huang Jie. This time, I didn’t bother with nonsense—I simply whispered in his ear, “You people from Shanxi are all idiots.”

To my surprise, Huang Jie didn’t even flinch. He just mumbled in agreement, “Yeah… all idiots…”

HOUZI smirked. “Watch this.”

He bent down and whispered, “Huang Jie, lend me five yuan.”

“I don’t have any!” Huang Jie shot up instantly, furious. “Go borrow from someone else, damn it!”

HOUZI grinned smugly. Huang Jie, realizing he had been tricked, sighed in relief and hummed a tune as he put on his shoes. “What kind of rhythm… makes you want to dance all night…”

The three of us headed to my dorm, set up a table, and started playing cards while waiting for the Ninth Prince’s men to arrive. Ever the dramatist, HOUZI theatrically planted a knife in the table and declared, “If the Big Cat dares to come for us, I’ll make sure he leaves with a blade in his belly!”

I raised an eyebrow. “HOUZI, where do you even get all these knives?”

Huang Jie smirked. “You don’t know? There’s a street vendor on the way back from the internet café. Every time HOUZI walks by, he swipes a new knife.”

“Shut up. I borrow them, okay?”

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“Do they just lend you dozens of knives for free?”

Realizing that they were joking again, I chose not to pursue the matter further.

Students gradually returned to their dorms. I instructed Ma Jie to open the door, and soon, the corridor was filled with lively chatter—some were playfully scuffling, others were washing up. Not long after, a voice rang out from outside:

“The Ninth Prince is here!”

At once, the corridor fell into an eerie silence. Everyone scrambled back to their dorms. Moments later, the rhythmic stomp of hurried footsteps echoed through the halls, accompanied by the occasional curse:

“Get back to your rooms! No one dares to stick their head out!”

The mere sound of those words sent Ma Jie scurrying onto his bed in fear.

“What are you so afraid of? Haven’t you already paid your protection fee?” I asked.

Ma Jie pulled a long face. “I’m not scared of them—I’m scared Zhou Kun will ask me for cigarettes.”

Houzi unsheathed his knife and waved it in front of Ma Jie. “If he dares ask, just give him a stab!”

“No way!” Ma Jie frantically waved his hands in refusal.

With a loud bang, the sound of a door being kicked open echoed through the corridor, followed by a furious voice:

“Who the hell is Yang Zecheng?!”

Houzi glanced at me, and I nodded, committing the name to memory.

Tonight, the Ninth Prince and his gang were sweeping the dorms, targeting those who refused to pay protection fees. Their true aim was to establish dominance, so their display of force was bound to be overwhelming, their voices deliberately raised to intimidate. We didn’t even need to step outside to witness the scene; just sitting in our dorm, we could hear everything unfold.

“I’m Yang Zecheng, you bastard!” another voice rang out defiantly.

The moment such words were exchanged, a fight was inevitable. The corridor erupted with the cacophony of fists meeting flesh—thuds, crashes, the scuffle of bodies. Judging by the sound, at least a dozen people were pummeling this Yang Zecheng. Despite the onslaught, his voice still rang out, hoarse but unyielding:

“I’ll never give you bastards a dime!”

The three of us exchanged glances and nodded. This man had guts—he was someone worth recruiting.

But no matter how strong one’s will, fists alone could not fend off a mob. Yang Zecheng’s curses gradually weakened until they faded almost entirely. Then came Zhou Kun’s mocking voice:

“You ungrateful fool. If you won’t pay, we’ll beat you every day until you do!”

“Zhou Kun, don’t be too ruthless,” another voice chimed in—Da Mao, with his usual feigned concern. “Look at what you’ve done, you’ve smashed his nose! How’s he supposed to find a girlfriend now?”

“Damn it, what a waste of time. Let’s move on to the next one…”

Bang! Smack!

“Who the hell is Gao He?!”

It seemed Zhou Kun was the main enforcer tonight, seizing every chance to assert his dominance.

I made a mental note of this name too. Five minutes later, Gao He suffered the same fate as Yang Zecheng—beaten so brutally that he could barely muster a curse. But just like Yang, he proved himself a man of principle. Another one we had to recruit.

The corridor remained a hub of violence and hushed tension. Apart from the Ninth Prince’s gang and the victims, no one dared to make a sound. Even within our dorm, we could feel the suffocating atmosphere. Ma Jie had completely lost his nerve, trembling under his blanket, hiding his head as if that could shield him from the chaos outside.

Half an hour passed. More than ten students had been beaten, with some dorms having multiple victims.

Houzi rubbed his hands together with excitement. “Damn, this is amazing. So many tough guys this year!”

Huang Jie and I shared his enthusiasm—the more defiant students there were, the better our chances of victory.

“I can’t just sit here anymore, I have to go take a look.” Houzi stood and headed for the door.

Shortly after, we heard Da Mao’s voice from the corridor. “Well, if it isn’t Houzi. Where are you off to?”

“Just the restroom.”

“I seem to recall that you haven’t paid your protection fee either.”

“Not yet. Come find me later—I’ll be in Zuo Fei’s dorm.”

Houzi made a quick round outside and returned, his face alight with excitement. “Holy shit, there are bodies sprawled all over the corridor. The Ninth Prince’s gang has gone mad—they’re beating people like they’re trying to kill them!”

The more brutal the beatings, the deeper the grudges—and the easier it would be for us to rally support. This was playing right into our hands.

“But it’s odd,” I mused. “Why doesn’t anyone step in when someone else is being beaten?”

Houzi smirked. “That’s just common sense. Without a leader, who would dare to make a move? Haven’t you heard the saying? ‘One Chinese man is a dragon, but a group of Chinese men are mere insects.’ Without someone to take the lead, people will always remain scattered, like grains of sand.”

Huang Jie straightened his collar. “Clearly, I’m the one meant to take the lead.”

“Bullshit, that role belongs to me,” Houzi declared, pointing to himself.

I scoffed. “Oh, come on. Who could possibly be more suited to the role than me?”

This was an old argument of ours—whenever it came up, we inevitably ended up bickering. Within moments, we were red-faced, each gripping the other’s collar, ready to throw punches.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” A familiar voice cut through our quarrel.

We turned to see Da Mao standing in the doorway, flanked by a crowd—including Xing Qiu, Zhou Kun, and several other key figures. That was the privilege of being the boss—wherever he went, he commanded presence.

We immediately let go of each other and, almost in unison, said, “Nothing, nothing—just exercising.”

Da Mao stepped forward. “Right. Now, let’s talk about that protection fee.”

Houzi drew his knife and plunged it into the wooden table with a sharp thud. “How about this? Does this count as payment?”

Da Mao’s expression stiffened—clearly, he hadn’t expected Houzi to be so bold. He had underestimated him.

Huang Jie and I remained nonchalant, shuffling our playing cards as if Da Mao and his gang were beneath our notice.

“Three with a pair—it’s your move, Houzi,” Huang Jie said, tossing his cards onto the table.

“Royal flush!” Houzi slammed down his hand with such force that the knife in the table trembled. “Blowing you straight to hell—let’s see you act tough now!” His words carried an unmistakable provocation.

Da Mao’s expression darkened, but he refrained from stepping any further into the room.

“Heh. I’ll deal with you three later.” With a smirk, he turned and walked away.

Da Mao was shrewd. He knew when to advance and when to retreat. It was precisely this adaptability that had kept him alive this long.

But only until tonight.

Tomorrow, we would bring down the Ninth Prince.

As the night dragged on, the beatings continued outside while we remained in our dorm, playing cards as if nothing was amiss. The school’s administration didn’t interfere, nor did the dorm supervisors step in. It was as if this brutality was an accepted norm.

By the time the ordeal ended around midnight, I had memorized over twenty names.

“It feels like it’s wrapping up,” Houzi said with a yawn. “That’s enough for tonight. Time to call it a day.”

As a coded phrase, “disbanding” carried a hidden meaning—since there were outsiders in our dormitory, HOUZI was subtly hinting that the reign of the Ninth Prince was nearing its end and that it was time for us to gather these iron-willed individuals to discuss our next move.

“Who the hell is Zheng Wu?!” Zhou Kun’s voice rang out again, though it was now distant, suggesting that they had reached the far end of the corridor—perhaps their final target for the night.

“I am Zheng Wu!” A thunderous voice roared in response, brimming with defiance and unyielding fury, drowning out Zhou Kun’s call. It was so powerful that it seemed to shake the entire dormitory building.

Then came the screams—one, two, three—each more agonized than the last, followed by the frantic sound of feet scrambling.

No single person could produce that many cries of pain. That meant—the ones wailing in agony were none other than the Ninth Prince’s men!

The three of us exchanged glances, then bolted out the door in unison.

In the corridor, the Ninth Prince’s men were fleeing in all directions, while a shirtless student pursued them relentlessly. His muscular chest rippled with each movement, and in his hand, he wielded a heavy black power rod.

“I’ll kill every last one of you bastards!” Zheng Wu bellowed, swinging the rod furiously. Each time it connected, another cry of agony erupted.

Zhou Kun had already taken several blows and was now running for his life, shrieking in panic.

“Ai, mama! Ai, mama!” Zhou Kun’s wails echoed as he dashed past our dormitory door.

“Damn! We’ve found a real beast!” HOUZI’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he watched Zheng Wu.

“Holy shit, I think I’m in love,” Huang Jie murmured, eyes wide with admiration.

At that, I instinctively took a step away from him—since when did he have that kind of preference?

“Stop panicking like a bunch of headless chickens!” Da Mao suddenly emerged from the restroom, gripping a broken mop handle—wait, wasn’t that the one I had kicked in half last time?

“Grab your weapons!” he roared before charging forward.

Da Mao swung his makeshift club, but Zheng Wu countered with his steel rod. The difference was obvious—wood could never match iron. Da Mao let out a grunt of pain, but to his credit, he held his ground and kept fighting.

As much as I hated to admit it, Da Mao’s leadership wasn’t just for show. There was some real strength behind his position as the Ninth Prince’s second-in-command.

Despite being slightly overpowered, Da Mao’s defiance reignited his gang’s morale. The others surged forward, grabbing whatever they could—folding chairs, wooden sticks, even pickaxe handles—before rushing Zheng Wu en masse.

No matter how strong he was, Zheng Wu could not withstand an onslaught from two or three dozen attackers. After a fierce struggle, he collapsed into a pool of his own blood, yet the Ninth Prince’s men continued to rain down merciless blows upon him.

“Damn it,” Huang Jie cursed under his breath, grabbing a chair and preparing to charge forward. I, too, instinctively reached for a folding stool—this was no longer just a beating; they were trying to kill him.

“Stand down.” HOUZI’s voice cut through the tension as he blocked our path, his gaze locked onto Zheng Wu.

We knew exactly what he meant. We had agreed beforehand that we wouldn’t intervene tonight. The longer the Ninth Prince’s men indulged in their brutality, the deeper the hatred would fester in their victims’ hearts. However, if this went on any longer, we feared Zheng Wu might not make it out alive. HOUZI watched intently, waiting for the right moment to act.

“That’s enough.” Finally, Da Mao spoke.

The gang stepped back, leaving Zheng Wu sprawled on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

“That was just a small warning,” Da Mao sneered. “If you don’t pay up in three days, it won’t end so lightly next time.”

With that, he led his men away.

“Move.” HOUZI’s command was all it took—we sprang forward like wild horses, rushing toward Zheng Wu.

But before we could reach him, Zheng Wu had already pushed himself up. He wiped the blood from his forehead, muttered a curse, and—without so much as a glance in our direction—strode off toward the washroom as if nothing had happened. His demeanor was one of sheer arrogance, as if he had just emerged victorious from the fight.

“Damn, this guy is insane,” HOUZI muttered, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Zuo Fei, this one’s yours. Huang Jie and I will gather the others—meet in Room 305.” That dorm was empty except for him, making it the perfect place for private discussions.

“Got it!” I took off toward the washroom, my curiosity about Zheng Wu now burning hotter than ever.