The Sickly Villain Only Wants to Survive

52

Shao Ming received the message from his employee at around 6:00 PM. It took him only ten minutes to rush from school to the plaza. The sky was slowly darkening—not quite sunset, but not completely dark either. It was the kind of weather that seemed to cast a shadow over one's heart.

A young man was violently throwing an older man, who appeared to be in his fifties, onto the hard ground. Some passersby, who didn't know the situation, were immediately outraged and stepped forward to help the older man. But before they could reach him, they were stopped by the sound of a chilling laugh.

"Haha, hahaha... Five years, and this is all you've got? You're nowhere near as tough as me. That's all you can do? Hahaha."

His laughter echoed like the eerie background music of a horror movie, sending shivers down people's spines.

Whatever sympathy the bystanders had immediately evaporated. Some even stepped back in fear.

Qiu Shaoping, disheveled, got up from the ground, his eyes locked on Shao Ming. He bared his teeth in a menacing grin. "You two have been living it up, haven't you? Running a nice little milk tea shop. You want a peaceful life, is that it? After you sent me to that hellhole for five years, what gives you the right to be happy? You—"

"Bang."

Shao Ming kicked him again, this time landing a blow directly to his stomach.

He didn't say a word, his eyes as still and deep as a bottomless well, cold and serene.

He showed no mercy, and the man on the ground showed no signs of backing down either. The onlookers, unsure of who was in the right, felt too scared to intervene, torn between the two dangerous figures.

"What do we do? Should we call the police?"

"I've already called them."

A few voices murmured in the crowd, but the two men locked in confrontation didn't flinch.

This time, when Qiu Shaoping hit the ground, he split his lip, blood seeping out. Unfazed by the pain, he wiped the blood from his mouth and sneered. "That's it? You don't dare go all out, do you? Where's that fire you had five years ago, smashing a bottle over my head, stabbing me with a knife? What's the matter, scared of legal consequences now that you're almost an adult? Gone soft, have you? You little bastard."

He spat out a mouthful of blood.

Shao Ming, still silent, moved to strike again when the door of the milk tea shop burst open once more. Shao Yujie ran out, shouting, "Shao Ming, stop!"

Shao Ming paused and slightly turned his head.

Qiu Shaoping glanced at the woman who had just rushed out, then at Shao Ming, who had already raised his hand. He sneered, "Why are you telling him to stop? Afraid that if he breaks the law, his father won't want him anymore? After five years, you still haven't let go of your dream of marrying into a wealthy family? Ha! You had me sent away just so he could claim his father's name? You're dreaming! After all these years, you're still stuck in this miserable place. You, a delusional, shameless woman! You filthy wretch! You deserve to be with someone like me..."

His words were abruptly cut off by another punch that landed squarely on his face.

Shao Yujie, who had gone pale from his words, was about to step forward to stop Shao Ming from hitting him again. But the scene suddenly reminded her of what happened five years ago. She hesitated, her voice faltering.

Five years ago, a twelve-year-old boy had smashed a beer bottle over the man's head. Blood poured down the man's face, yet the boy's expression remained blank. Even when the bottle shattered, the boy didn't stop. Blow after blow, he didn't cease until the man passed out.