The Heir to the Seven Killers in the City

Chapter 7: Brother Rong

“Young man, are you really up to this?” The owner of this small logistics company was a middle-aged woman who still possessed a certain charm; in her forties, but dressed up, she looked much like a young, attractive woman in her early thirties. Leaning against the freight terminal window, she rested her chin in a very girlish manner as she looked at Qin Yu, her gaze carrying a hint of passion. However, although the dainty young man before her was a real treat for the eyes, she was running a business, not a charity, and wasn’t wealthy enough to keep a kept man. More importantly, the owner of the logistics company wasn’t someone to be trifled with—she certainly didn’t want her Northeast husband to slap her across the face with his fan-like palm. So, even though she found Qin Yu truly a sight for sore eyes, she had no choice but to reluctantly turn him down. How could Qin Yu possibly know that his arrival had sent ripples through the landlady’s heart? All he knew right now was that he had to find some work or he wouldn’t have anything to eat. Seeing that the landlady wasn’t interested in him, Qin Yu pointed decisively at a pile of cargo by the logistics company’s entrance: “Sis, how many people does it take to carry one of these boxes?” The owner gave him a flirtatious wink: “Oh, come on. That box weighs nearly 300 jin—it’ll take at least two people to carry it.” Qin Yu replied, “If I can carry it inside by myself, will you let me work here?” As soon as the words left his mouth, not only did the boss’s wife laugh so hard she was shaking, but the porters around them also started chuckling. It was simply because Qin Yu looked so delicate—if it weren’t for his height, he could have dressed in women’s clothes and passed for a beauty, and people would have believed it. With a build like that, could he really lift 300 jin of cargo? Qin Yu wasn’t entirely confident himself, but over the past couple of days, he’d felt his strength increase immeasurably compared to before—though he hadn’t actually tested it properly. He walked over to the pile of goods, rolled his shoulders, and prepared to get to work. The boss’s wife was worried he might strain his back, which was why she’d given him that concerned warning earlier. Upon hearing her words, Qin Yu replied without looking up, “Thanks. Don’t worry, ma’am.” He gripped both sides of the crate with both hands. The crate itself wasn’t particularly large, but the problem was that it contained metal products like wear-resistant balls, so it was quite heavy. Qin Yu exhaled and grunted, lifting the entire crate in one go—but he’d exerted so much force that he nearly lost his balance. Seeing this, the shop owner’s wife couldn’t help but part her rosy lips in a gasp of surprise, while the other workers all stared wide-eyed—they were all seasoned porters; didn’t they know just how heavy that crate was? Qin Yu carried the box steadily for several dozen steps before setting it down. Not a single bead of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he wasn’t even out of breath. This prompted the other porters to gather around and inspect the box—they genuinely suspected it might be empty; otherwise, how could he have handled it so effortlessly? It turned out the crate wasn’t empty after all, and so, amid a chorus of exclamations, Qin Yu became a temporary porter at Hongda Logistics, earning commission based on the number of items he handled. Over the course of a few days, Qin Yu earned over a thousand yuan and got to know everyone there. The other porters liked to tease him, since anyone with eyes could see how the boss’s wife looked out for him. However, she limited herself to verbal banter and never crossed any lines. Once he’d settled in, Qin Yu discovered a small gambling den within the logistics company. Though called a “casino,” it was really just a group of people gathering to gamble. Originally, this had nothing to do with Qin Yu, but one day, an incident occurred that prompted him to step in once again. That afternoon, after finishing his work as usual, Qin Yu was sitting with a few porters, smoking and chatting, when suddenly a commotion broke out in the office area. Immediately afterward, he heard the boss’s wife, Sister Hong, screaming, “Murder! Murder!” The moment he heard the words “murder,” Qin Yu jumped to his feet almost on autopilot. Just as he was about to head inside, an older porter grabbed him by the sleeve: “Qin, what are you doing?” Qin Yu turned and glanced at the older porter: “Didn’t you hear the boss’s wife shouting ‘Murder!’ from inside?” The older porter replied, “You silly kid, those are all gangsters in there. What are you running in there for? Just stay put and rest here—it’s none of our business!” Qin Yu shook his head but ran inside anyway. As soon as he reached the doorway of the room being used as a gambling den, he saw a man lying on the floor. The man’s face was covered in blood, and he wasn’t moving, while another man with a rugged, menacing face kept kicking him with his foot. The landlady, Sister Hong, was crouched over the man on the floor, wailing loudly. Qin Yu had never seen the usually lively and cheerful landlady like this before. This woman, who normally exuded a feisty spirit, now looked terrified and fragile, like a startled little bird. The man on the floor was Sister Hong’s husband—the owner of this logistics company—and the man kicking him was a regular customer who often came here to gamble. What Qin Yu couldn’t understand was that there were still more than a dozen people in the room watching all this unfold. These were all people who were on very friendly terms with the owner and his wife; normally, their relationships seemed incredibly close. So why wasn’t a single person stepping in to stop this? Why wasn’t even a single person speaking up? “Brother Rong, Brother Rong, please stop hitting him. I beg you, stop!” The boss’s wife knelt on the ground, repeatedly kowtowing to the man called Brother Rong. The man named Brother Rong paused, gave the boss’s wife a snarl, and then suddenly kicked the boss’s husband as if he were taking a shot at a soccer goal. Standing outside the door, Qin Yu couldn’t help but wince. It looked painful just to watch—he had no idea how badly the landlady’s husband was injured. Just as Qin Yu was about to step in, Brother Rong stopped beating the shop owner’s husband and reached out to give the shop owner’s chest a hard squeeze: “Your husband accused me of cheating. Do you think he deserved this beating? Hmm?” Tears streaming down her face, the landlady said, “He deserves it, he deserves it. Brother Rong, I’ll apologize for him.” Brother Rong chuckled darkly. “An apology? If apologies were enough, what would we need a warrant for? Don’t say I’m not giving you a way out. You’ve got two options: one, the two of you run—run fast—and see how far you can get before I track you down.” “The other option: get ten million ready for me by tomorrow night, or else…” Brother Rong didn’t finish his sentence; he reached out and slapped the landlady hard across the face twice, then strode off. As soon as Brother Rong left, everyone else scattered like birds and beasts. Only the landlady, Sister Hong, clung to her husband, weeping bitterly. Qin Yu walked in and asked, “Sister Hong, do you want to call the police?” “Call the police? Will that do any good?” Sister Hong said through her tears, then pulled out her phone and dialed 120. After she finished dialing 120, Qin Yu asked, “Who is Brother Rong?”