The Byoukidere Is Her Sweetie
Chapter 444: 444: Young Master Zhi is protective, Jiang Fuxi is done for (second update)

Chapter 444: 444: Young Master Zhi is protective, Jiang Fuxi is done for (second update)

That tune… his rabbit of a son had arrived. After hiding in Redwood Wind for just a short while, the brat had sniffed him out.

Damn kid, what a keen nose!

Pissed, Su Dingzhi ground his teeth and cursed, “That damned little beast!” He grabbed a gun and filled it with bullets, “Go out and see how many people he brought.”

Someone went to check on the situation; it was his right-hand man, Baron.

Baron came back and reported, “Master Zhi, Young Master Zhi brought—”

Old Master Zhi, who was known for being ruthless and laconic, burst out in Chinese, “What Young Master Zhi, damn it, he’s nothing but a debt collector!”

Baron’s Chinese was at a beginner’s level, and he awkwardly rephrased, “The debt collector brought a whole ship’s worth of people.”

Baron, a nearly six-and-a-half-feet-tall hulk, specialized in hand-to-hand combat. Qing Hou’s fighting skills were taught by him, but at eighteen, Qing Hou pinned him down and gave him a good rubbing.

“Master Zhi,” another henchman, George, approached and said in a literal English translation of a Chinese proverb, “One need not worry about lacking firewood so long as the green hills last.”

George was close to five-and-a-half feet tall, excelling in marksmanship.

Qing Hou was personally taught how to shoot by George, who Qing Hou had called uncle when he was little. After his “rebellion”, he took to calling him “Shorty”.

This was Qing Hou’s fifth “rebellion”, leaving Su Dingzhi with only these two capable men by his side.

No place left to hide, Su Dingzhi, with gun in hand, headed outside the cabin, “Let’s kill this little beast before we talk.”

George: Then do it! You’ve tried so many times but never finish the job, and you’re afraid of ending your line because your son made you infertile!

George and Baron immediately followed.

Su Dingzhi had barely stepped out of the cruise ship’s dining room when a gun was pressed against his head, and the gun in his hand was snatched away.

“Su Dingzhi, you’ve lost again.”

The stinking brat, young and as fast as a leopard, didn’t even blink. With cold and fierce eyes, his hands behind his back, he said, “If you dare, shoot your old man dead.”

Qing Hou looked at his father with a smile, “Killing you is boring.” Dressed in leather shoes, he kicked over, and as Su Dingzhi was getting up, he stepped on him, “Call me Mr. Zhi.”

Damn it; what kind of monster had he given birth to!

Su Dingzhi barely moved—

When another kick landed on his abdomen.

The way he jabbed with the pointed toe of his leather shoe was precisely how he used to kick this monster.

Seeing this, George and Baron immediately drew their guns to charge, but Su Chan was faster, instantly positioning in front of them and pinning both to the ground with one hand each.

“…”

014 was still a defective product. Thinking about 011, that must be terrifying. No wonder Old Master Zhi had spent half his life committed to genetic superpowers. If he could create a whole group of 011 clones, it wouldn’t just be Pullman; perhaps the world would belong to Old Master Zhi.

Tired of kicking, Qing Hou took off his suit jacket and threw it on the deck. He grabbed a metal rod from a subordinate and, rotating his neck, looked down contemptuously at his father, “Going to call me it or no?”

Su Dingzhi spat out a mouthful of blood, “Beast!”

Indeed, a beast.

At seven, thrown by Su Dingzhi into the tropical wilderness teeming with beasts, he was bitten bloody all over before returning. And then, damn, he couldn’t recognize the way anymore, completely losing a sense of direction.

He swung his stick down, “Say it or I’ll beat you to death.”

Su Dingzhi got hit in the gut, spitting out blood, and before he could catch his breath, the rod came down again, which he caught with his hand.

He should have killed the damn thing, even if it meant ending his lineage!

Grinding his teeth, he uttered, “Mr… Zhi.”

Victory belongs to the king, defeat to the villain.

Young Master Zhi had won.

Qing Hou felt a rush of satisfaction throughout his body, tossed the stick aside, and squatted on the deck to watch his father, “From now on I’ll keep you in a cage, and you’ll have to call your son ‘Sir’ every day.”

Su Dingzhi: “…”

Damn, he should never have let him be born, should have blasted him onto the wall instead!

“Qing Hou,” Su Chan, stepping on two men, queried, “What about these two?”

After a thought, Qing Hou told the pair, “Kick Su Dingzhi. If I’m satisfied with your effort, I’ll let you go. Otherwise,” he said, chuckling, a wicked light in his steely blue eyes, “off with your legs.”

George and Baron: “…”

How could such a person exist? Such a person shouldn’t be in the underworld but in a mental hospital.

Both George and Baron were loyal followers, but now wasn’t the time for blind loyalty. They needed to preserve the green hills… So, kick they must, as hard as they could.

Su Dingzhi, his teeth often shattered, lay pinned down on the deck, unable to move until he was kicked unconscious.

Qing Hou watched on the side, feeling utterly relaxed.

“Young Master Zhi.” Harris, bowing low with his men, emerged from the cabin.

Bolstered by his good mood, Qing Hou straightened his tie and put on his suit jacket, “All of you, get off the ship.”

Harris expressed gratitude, looked at the unmoving Old Master Zhi on the ground, then glanced at Young Master Zhi’s enchanting features, which seemed even more seductive than a woman’s. After a moment’s hesitation, he ventured, “About that Eastern woman,” glancing at Jiang Fuxi, “I ask Young Master Zhi to bestow her upon me.”

Jiang Fuxi was dragged out by Carr.

Surveying the surroundings, she fixed her gaze on Qing Hou, her voice soft, “Help me.”

This face, Qing Hou had just looked at photos of half an hour ago.

“Certainly,” he said, in Chinese.

She had walked into the trap herself; he couldn’t be blamed.

Half an hour earlier.

“Qing Hou,” Su Chan knocked before coming in, “an email from Jiang Zhi.”

Qing Hou, bare-chested with sweat trickling from his neck down to his abs, bore five scars on his body—three from bullets on his chest, abdomen, and left arm, and two from knife wounds on his back.

He removed his boxing gloves, “Bring it here and let me see.”

Su Chan handed him the tablet and a towel together.

Jiang Zhi’s email was perfunctory, directly forwarding the report about Zhou Xufang’s incident and the culprit’s information.

Handing him a bottle of water, Su Chan said, “Jiang Zhi is trying to use you.”

Jiang Fuxi had fled too far, Jiang Zhi couldn’t reach her. Plus, Jiang Zhi, cunning as he was, knew precisely what Qing Hou was like. He clearly wanted to use Qing Hou to kill someone by proxy.

“That shameless Jiang Zhi,” cursed Qing Hou, opening Jiang Fuxi’s profile, and while sipping water, he flipped through it, “I really can’t stand the look of this woman.”

Su Chan frowned slightly, “Qing Hou, will you handle this?”

Throwing the tablet back at her, Qing Hou touched the bite mark on his wrist, “Someone who bullied me, what do you think?”