Lin Lan's single sentence snuffed out Wang Hao's swaggering arrogance in an instant.
Jiang Cheng didn't flare up either; the corners of his mouth merely curved upward slightly.
With deliberate calm he sat back down, casually turning the phone in his hand while keeping his gaze fixed on Wang Hao.
To everyone present, his relaxed posture invited speculation.
People always worship the strong; Jiang Cheng looked no different from usual.
Yet to the observant it came across as the unhurried confidence of a true superior.
Seeing Wang Hao quieten down, Lin Lan immediately tugged him forward and bowed apologetically to Jiang Cheng.
"Young Master Jiang, Haoh-er was in the wrong today. I apologize on his behalf; please don't hold it against him."
At that moment Wang Hao felt nothing but misery—beaten and still forced to apologize.
He had assumed that with his family's power Jiang Cheng would be nothing but a stinking rat beneath his shoe; instead he was now being ground into the dirt in front of the very Second-generation rich kids he usually trampled.
Words couldn't describe the torment inside him.
For his father's official post he had to swallow the humiliation and bow to Jiang Cheng.
"I'm sorry. Today's matter was my fault; please forgive me."
Qi Yuan, Wang Congcong and the other rich kids Wang Hao usually bullied couldn't help snickering at his sudden meekness.
Jiang Cheng kept his eyes on the phone and said nothing.
Having humbled himself and watched his mother do the same, yet still receiving no reply, Wang Hao's face darkened again.
Seeing Jiang Cheng unmoved, Wang Hao turned to Qi Yuan. "Qi Yuan, this mess started with the two of us. Even if I was wrong, you set me up—you used him as your gun. You knew he had backing and still you tricked me. Let's call it quits: from now on I'll take a detour whenever I see you. I won't show up anywhere you are—will that do?"
Qi Yuan looked at him in exasperation. "Wang Hao, is your brain broken? When did I ever use Brother Cheng as a weapon? You couldn't control your own foul mouth—how is that my fault? Don't act like a rabid dog trying to drag everyone down with you."
Unable to reason with Qi Yuan, Wang Hao lost control again and shouted at Jiang Cheng, "What exactly do you want? Just give me a straight answer!"
Watching Wang Hao lose his composure, Jiang Cheng smiled and replied slowly, "I'm still saying the same thing: do it, and the matter is settled between us."
"Impossible! I've apologized; don't push your luck." Wang Hao glared, his face ashen.
Jiang Cheng wanted him to plunge the fork into his own body—how could he do that?
At those words, not only Wang Hao but even Qi Yuan and the others frowned.
Much as they hated Wang Hao, Jiang Cheng's demand was too cruel.
In fact Jiang Cheng did it on purpose.
"Kill the chicken to scare the monkey"—he intended to grind Wang Hao beneath his heel.
He wanted every rich kid in Shanghai to see he was no soft touch.
Jiang Cheng shrugged indifferently. "If you don't care, you can simply walk away—provided you can bear the consequences."
"Why are you targeting me? You're abusing your power," Wang Hao whined like a victim.
"A few slaps and you think you're the victim? If an ordinary man stood here today, would he dare hit back? You'd have destroyed him already—jail at the very least. When you struck first and called your thugs, why didn't you call it abusing power?"
Jiang Cheng's words rang out, forceful and final.
No one present could refute him.
Society has always been stratified.
Had some ordinary rich kid—or anyone even less privileged—faced this situation,
Wang Hao would have crushed him without question, a prison sentence guaranteed.
Worse, the man's family would live under constant threat.
Seeing Wang Hao silent, Jiang Cheng went on. "Money and time I've got in spades. Letting someone like you stay in your position will only let you bully and humiliate more people."
Jiang Cheng wasn't exaggerating; Wang Hao feared not even Qi Yuan, proof of how much he relied on power to oppress others.
The onlookers had assumed Jiang Cheng was merely venting personal anger; now they realized this young man with backing was radiating a sense of justice.
Suddenly they felt the halo of humanity's righteousness shining from him.
In truth Jiang Cheng was nothing like their image; his noble words were only an excuse.
The reason he could act so unbridled was not just money, but more importantly the vague yet formidable backing behind him now.
Money and background had given him the confidence to pursue the matter.
Had it been the old him, he would have swallowed the insult in silence.
Even if his father was a construction tycoon, before real power he was still an ant.
The same Jiang Cheng—past and present top-second-generation—was worlds apart.
The weight of his words and actions differed by a hundred thousand miles.
Now that he was growing strong,
he would not let anyone trample him and walk away unscathed.
He was indeed throwing his weight around—and he intended to.
As he finished, Wang Hao's phone rang.
Annoyed, Wang Hao glanced at the screen: it was his father.
Staring at the call, he felt an indescribable dread.
He feared bad news.
He answered and began speaking with his father.
Moments later he stared at Jiang Cheng, ashen and incredulous. "That's impossible, Dad—I don't believe it!"
A helpless voice came through the phone: "Old Marshal Jiang is covered in medals of honor, Wang Hao. There's nothing I can do. I've told you before: broaden your horizons beyond Shanghai. The higher your position, the more careful your words and deeds; every move represents the whole family. You're twenty-five, not a child. Think: generations of our family struggled to reach where we are—don't ruin it. Do you understand?"
Fear finally crept into Wang Hao's heart.
Everything he had achieved came from his family.
Strutting through Shanghai, even fearing no Qi Yuan—he relied entirely on that backing.
And right now his father stood a chance of promotion.
If he spoiled that chance or dragged the family down, he dared not imagine the consequences.
Despite his fury, he knew he had to yield to Jiang Cheng.
Deflated, he muttered, "I understand."
After hanging up, he picked up the fork from the table with a look of doomed resolve.
The dangerous move made Lin Lan tense. "Haoh-er, what are you doing? Put the fork down!"
Ignoring her, Wang Hao locked his eyes on Jiang Cheng. "If I stab this into myself, we're truly even?"
Jiang Cheng gave a slight nod. "Of course… I keep my word."
"You'd better mean it…" With those words Wang Hao gritted his teeth and drove the fork into his arm.
Beside them Lin Lan's legs buckled; she rushed forward and pressed his arm. "Haoh-er, you foolish child!" she sobbed, shouting to her Bodyguard, "Call an ambulance!"
Wang Hao had used such force that half the fork was embedded in his arm.
Pale, he endured the pain and said to Jiang Cheng, "Done—we're even."
While everyone else wore varying expressions of shock, Jiang Cheng's face never changed.
"Fine. You can go."
At those words Wang Hao, supported by Lin Lan, left the scene in disgrace.
Seeing the ashen, intimidated faces around him, Jiang Cheng knew his goal was achieved.
Without lingering, he said goodbye to Qi Yuan and Wang Congcong and walked away.