Chapter 135: Just Based on You

After all, middle school students are not hardened tough guys who live life on the edge of a blade; the sight of blood drains all the color from their faces, even when it is their own blood.
"What... what do you want?!"
Brother Lei's trembling voice squeezed out of his mouth. He was terrified by his own blood. No matter how domineering these middle school students usually acted, the moment they saw blood, they immediately turned limp. They were incomparable to true men who braved wind and rain and treated life and death with indifference—though, of course, such men would never be as idle as Song Nianqiang to come and discipline a bunch of junior high kids.
"Oh my!! Brother Lei, I wouldn't dare do anything to you. I'm just curious: why bother playing the gangster instead of studying properly? Is your family super rich?! Are your parents high-ranking officials?!" Song Nianqiang sauntered step by step, slowly walking up to Brother Lei, and looked down at him as he clutched his hand.
"My~~~ My family is... My family has no money. They just farm." Brother Lei spoke in a very small voice, but everyone present heard it clearly. Originally, Song Nianqiang hadn't been all that angry—after all, he wasn't Brother Lei's parent—but things were different now. Hearing what Brother Lei just said, Song Nianqiang decided to help his parents teach him a lesson.
"Then what the hell are you acting so tough for?! Your parents are out in the fields from dawn till dusk, facing the earth and backing the sky, yet you're out here messing around at school, playing the hoodlum instead of studying! With an attitude like yours, you're going to get hacked down in the street sooner or later!!" Song Nianqiang said with righteous indignation, though most of it was an act.
"Um, Big Brother, it's 'facing the sky and backing the earth,' you got it wrong..." At this moment, a timid-looking guy with glasses raised his hand and uttered a remark that made Song Nianqiang lose a lot of face. Hearing this, Song Nianqiang froze and turned to glare at the speaker, which scared the little boy so badly that the head he had just raised immediately dropped back down.
"Hmph! I damn well feel like saying it that way! Don't come at me with your lack of culture; I used the upgraded version, understand?!" Song Nianqiang scrambled for an excuse, though everyone present was hearing about an "upgraded version" for the very first time.
By now, the wound on Brother Lei's hand wasn't a big deal—he had just been pricked by some shattered glass and there was no serious damage. However, despite the minor injury, Brother Lei still didn't dare remove his hand from the wound because Song Nianqiang was standing right in front of him, staring him down. Putting on a slightly pitiful expression might help win a shred of sympathy from Song Nianqiang.
"Fatty!! Stop hitting him, you're going to beat him to death!!" Things were settled on this side, but over on the other, the big fatty was still kicking the poor sap who had startled him earlier. By now, the big fatty's anger had mostly subsided. Hearing Song Nianqiang's shout, he spat a mouthful of saliva onto the bruised wretch and walked over to Song Nianqiang's side.
"Kid, stop covering it up. You think I couldn't tell? That little scratch of yours was fine ages ago. Or what, do you want me to add some fresh injuries for you?" The big fatty cut straight to the point, scaring Brother Lei to the point of tears. What on earth were these two guys? Not only could they fight, but how could their eyes be so sharp?
"No, no, no, no!!"
Scared out of his wits, Brother Lei immediately pulled away the hand he had been pressing against his wound and stammered continuously. "Hmph, Fatty here is in a rather foul mood today, so consider yourself unlucky. Come pour Fatty a cup of water!!" Originally, the big fatty's mood had been reasonably decent, but at noon today, he had first failed to catch the eye of any young girls, then got on Lao Han's bad nerves, and now Brother Lei had completely ruined his appetite. It would be a miracle if he had a pleasant temper right now.
The big fatty sat down on a chair. Brother Lei hastily picked up a nearby teacup and, trembling all over, poured a cup of water for the big fatty, then slowly shuffled over with his head bowed. However, the big fatty was deeply dissatisfied with his performance. Instead of taking the cup, he lashed out from his chair with a kick that landed squarely on Brother Lei's stomach.
"Damn it, moving slower than a pregnant turtle giving birth!!!" The big fatty felt not an ounce of fondness for this Brother Lei. Back when he was that age, even though he was no different from this kid, he could actually throw a punch. If anyone had dared to bully him like that back then, either the other guy would be flat on the ground or he would be. Who acts like Brother Lei, showing such a spineless, pathetic bird-like demeanor?
This time, after being kicked to the ground by the big fatty, Brother Lei didn't get back up. Yet the more the big fatty looked at him, the angrier he felt inside. What the hell kind of piece of trash was this? He didn't even have a backbone. If everyone in the underworld acted like this pathetic coward, the underworld would have collapsed long ago. Therefore, for the sake of the future brilliance of the underworld, the big fatty decided to discipline this worthless punk right before his eyes.
Well, all of the above were just excuses the big fatty made up for himself. In truth, the big fatty simply wanted to beat someone up, and he had dreamed up all those high-flown reasons out of sheer boredom.
"Sing the national anthem," the big fatty said, sitting in the chair with one leg crossed over the other. Brother Lei was very familiar with this trick; he used to pull it on others when he bullied them. There are two words in the national anthem: "Rise up." When the victimized guy was squatting or sitting on the ground, the moment those two words were sung, if he didn't stand up, he would get kicked. The reason was simple: "The song says 'rise up' and you don't rise up? Aren't you asking for a beating?"
If the victim did stand up, he would still get kicked. The reason was equally convenient: "Who told you to stand up? Still asking for a beating." So now, hearing the big fatty say those words, Brother Lei felt like he wanted to die. A grown man actually broke down and cried in front of more than ten students.
"What the—fuck!!! Can you have a shred of backbone? What are you crying for?!" To be honest, Brother Lei's tears genuinely startled the big fatty quite a bit. He hadn't expected a real man to completely throw away his pride and cry, let alone right in front of so many classmates.
"All right, Fatty, let it go," Song Nianqiang walked over to smooth things over. He believed that with this lesson, Brother Lei would tone things down considerably. In a way, this could be considered doing a good deed for the students of this school.
However, just as the two of them were preparing to leave the restaurant, a group of people burst in. Several of them were actually wielding watermelon machetes. Without a word, they immediately surrounded Song Nianqiang and his companion. Right behind them walked in a bald man wearing black clothes, in his twenties, of medium build, whose fierce expression added a palpable sense of intimidation to his presence.
Standing next to the bald man was a student in a school uniform. It seemed that when Song Nianqiang was beating Brother Lei, that student had sneaked away to fetch reinforcements. Yet Song Nianqiang remained completely unfazed. As if these few people could trap the two of them—ha!
"It's them two," relying on the numerical superiority of his side, the student spoke with plenty of confidence, though the tightly clenched watermelon machete in his hand completely betrayed him. It seemed these kids still lacked real combat experience. Weren't they just facing two guys who had knocked Brother Lei down? Was there any need to be this nervous?
"Hmm!" The bald man grunted in acknowledgment, then stepped forward. He first glanced down at Brother Lei on the floor, and seeing the tear tracks at the corners of Lei's eyes, his brows involuntarily furrowed. Brother Lei was no pushover; to be the boss of this school, he had to have some substance. Under normal circumstances, Brother Lei could handle himself in a fight, and if he went berserk, taking on three opponents at once wasn't out of the question.
Yet the problem was right here: on his own turf, Brother Lei had been frightened to tears by two nobodies who had appeared out of nowhere. Either Brother Lei was a spineless coward, or these two guys genuinely possessed some real skills.
The former hypothesis clearly didn't hold up. At this thought, the bald man couldn't help but give Song Nianqiang and the other guy a few extra looks, though neither of them appeared particularly remarkable—aside from the fact that the fatty standing in the back was truly, exceptionally large.
"I don't care what you two do for a living. The bottom line is that since you caused trouble on my turf, you need to be dealt with according to my rules. Now, if you know what's good for you, leave a finger each behind. If you don't, I'll help you do it myself," the bald man said, pointing his watermelon machete directly at Song Nianqiang.
"Um, you said we have to leave behind two fingers?" Song Nianqiang feigned extreme shock, opening his mouth wide. Upon receiving an affirmative nod from the bald man, he chuckled. "Just look at you lot—take a look at those punks behind you, is any single one of them cut out for fighting?! Look at them, their knuckles gripping those blades are completely white; give it another minute and their entire arms will be numb. How are they supposed to fight then? Look at their eyes, darting around restlessly everywhere—does that look anything like the gaze of people about to hack someone up? And look at the sweat pouring down their foreheads, what the absolute hell is this?!"