As the richest man's son, Wang Congcong returned home and immediately began flaunting himself across Social Media Platform and every other major site.
He never feared offending anyone, often acting as the entertainment circle's self-appointed disciplinary inspector.
Online, he's privy to the inside scoop on every big celebrity scandal.
Over the past few years he's already detonated several of them.
Later he bought the CCM Team and renamed it IG.
After joking that he was the headmaster of a 'dating academy,' netizens started calling him Principal Wang.
Wang Congconn glanced at Jiang Cheng; he'd spotted the porsche 918 on the way in, and now, noticing the Richard Mille on Jiang Cheng's wrist, his expression turned ever so slightly complicated.
A car worth over ten million plus a famous watch—interesting.
Principal Wang met Qi Yuan's eyes, then extended his hand toward Jiang Cheng. "Forget the title; just call me Little Cong."
Jiang Cheng looked at the offered right hand and shook it naturally. "You're older than me, so 'Old Wang' feels wrong—how about Brother Wang?"
Qi Yuan cut in, "By the way, how old are you, Brother Jiang? You look about my age."
"Starting college next month."
"I knew it! Still, I'm jealous—same eighteen years on earth, so how come I don't own that porsche 918?" Qi Yuan said enviously.
"Eighteen… At eighteen I was still studying abroad; when I came back I realized how much better home is," Wang Congcong mused, suddenly a bit emotional.
"My parents wanted to ship me overseas; I refused—so boring, no friends. China's way more fun, and if I crash a car my bro Wang here will handle it."
Wang Congcong rolled his eyes at Qi Yuan, then said to Jiang Cheng, "Pretty chill of you to still grab skewers with him. Sorry—once this guy drives a super-car, anyone in his way is doomed. He's basically a Super-Car Slayer."
Jiang Cheng waved it off. "Small matter; nobody got hurt. Sit and eat with us?"
"Sure. I left halfway through my last drink—starving." Once seated, Wang Congcong turned to Qi Yuan. "You crash someone's ride and treat them to this?"
Qi Yuan wasn't embarrassed; he boasted, "Wrong guess—my bro Cheng's treating me tonight."
"Damn, I knew you were shameless, but this shameless? Still mooching?" Wang Congcong roasted, then unceremoniously grabbed some grilled meat.
Qi Yuan knew Wang Congcong was angling to befriend Jiang Cheng, so he chuckled, "You don't get it—Bro Cheng's my real brother. I wasn't ready tonight, but tomorrow I'll throw a huge bash to celebrate our meeting."
"Brother Jiang, don't buy his act. When he needs you it's 'bro,' when he doesn't it's 'hey idiot'—zero courtesy," Wang Congcong said dismissively.
Afraid Wang Congcong would ruin his image, Qi Yuan quickly cut in, "It's our first meeting—don't sabotage me."
Following the topic, Jiang Cheng asked, "You called him a Super-Car Slayer?"
"Whenever he fires up a super-car, nothing good happens—cars crashed, trees hit. His family's banned him from driving them," Wang Congcong explained.
At that, Qi Yuan defended himself, "It's really not me. I hadn't driven in ages, wasn't even that fast, when some dog ran loose. I hate owners who skip the leash—damn."
"Why not check the cameras and find the dog's owner?" Jiang Cheng suggested.
Qi Yuan shook his head fast. "Forget it—the car's my cousin's. If she finds out, she'll never lend it again. Plus I sneaked it out; if the cops call and my folks hear, I'm grounded."
Wang Congcong shot him another look and sighed. "Your cousin's bold. Your parents told everyone not to lend you wheels and she still did—aren't you afraid he'll wreck himself?"
Qi Yuan took a swig of ice beer and nudged Wang Congcong.
"Not everyone's like you. She pities me, and what could go wrong? Every crash's been sheer accident."
Seeing Qi Yuan still unrepentant, Wang Congcong unloaded: "Pity my ass. You've driven my Lambo and Ferrari plenty—scrapes and dents? Ten if not eight, and you still claim innocence?"
Jiang Cheng listened, stunned.
Qi Yuan looked his age, yet that many accidents? Ridiculous.
"Haha, did you buy your license?" Jiang Cheng teased.
"Swear to heaven, I passed every test first try. This time it was a dog; last time, midnight, no traffic, I hadn't driven in ages and wanted to floor it. Just as I hit the gas, some idiot left a giant basket on the crosswalk—zero civic sense. I swerved to miss it and rammed the planter."
Jiang Cheng burst out laughing. "Man, your luck's tragic."
"Ugh, drop it—every crash is an accident, honest! My parents froze my funds anyway. This year I'll scrape together my own super-car; I refuse to believe I'll stay jinxed," Qi Yuan declared.
"On your few hundred grand a month? Keep dreaming—save till the cows come home," Wang Congcong shot back.
Qi Yuan put on puppy eyes. "How about lending me a bit, Brother Wang? Just one or two million. I'm easy—even a beat-up porsche 911 would do, as long as it's a super-car."
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