Agent Yi Leng

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Yi Nuan Nuan enthusiastically responded to this bold proposal, saying, “Yes, yes!” Even Xiao Yizi (the younger sister-in-law) joined in the fun, saying she wanted to learn a few moves to deal with bad people. “There are too many people in society who deserve a beating,” she said. “Like those ugly women today—they definitely need some (lessons).”

“Small cities are like quagmires, full of such people,” Xiang Bing sighed. “Big cities are better. Society runs on rules, not connections. I really don’t like it here. That’s why people who’ve been to (Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen) find it hard to return to their hometowns. When they come back, they just can’t adjust.”

Wu Yumei retorted, “But Ali came from a big city, and she’s working here as a substitute teacher.”

This left Xiang Bing speechless for a moment, unsure how to respond.

It was her niece who came to her rescue, saying, “Teacher Ali is only here temporarily, experiencing life. She won’t stay for long.”

Xiang Bing nodded. “Exactly, it’s like volunteer teaching. I’d also be willing to spend a few months teaching in Yungui (Yunnan and Guizhou) regions. But that’s not the entirety of life—it’s just a brief moment, a touch of color that brightens life. If you’re stuck there forever, life turns gray.”

Ali couldn’t help but ask herself why she had come to Jiangwei and why she had stayed. It seemed as if everything had been predestined, as if an invisible hand was orchestrating it all. Her attitude toward this city was the opposite of Xiang Bing’s. This was Xiang Bing’s hometown, yet she felt no attachment to it. For Ali, this was a foreign place, yet it held deep affection. Everything and everyone felt familiar, as if she had known them before.

Perhaps this was what people called fate, Ali thought.

Yi Leng didn’t drive them home. Instead, he stopped at the restaurant. It was the last day of the year, and it wouldn’t hurt to let loose a little. Everyone strongly agreed. Xiang Bing called home to let them know she was safe, saying, “Nuan Nuan and I are together. We’ll be back a bit late, but it’s fine.” Ali also called Ling Siyan, who was alone at home, feeling lonely, and invited her over to join the fun.

Rou Mingrui arrived with a group of people. Fortunately, he lived far away; otherwise, he would have been caught up in the earlier chaos and spent New Year’s Eve in the police station. Everyone gathered together, adding more wine and relighting the lanterns to restart the feast.

The main purpose was to celebrate their victory. From both tactical and strategic perspectives, today’s battle had been a resounding success. Tactically, they had secured an apology and compensation, making the bullies pay the price. They had even sent Yin Bingsong’s underlings to detention. Strategically, they had used a large-scale conflict involving parents and society to completely resolve the bullying issue.

School bullying had always been a difficult problem. Schools often addressed the symptoms rather than the root cause. Teenagers had their own world, separate from that of adults. They had their own rules and ideas. In this small jungle world where the strong preyed on the weak, trying to make the predators kind was less effective than making one’s own child stronger—not just physically, but mentally.

Children who were bullied were almost invariably lacking in love. Yi Nuan Nuan had no parents and no one to rely on, which was the main reason she had been bullied. Now, Uncle Huang, Teacher Ali, and the others had proven with facts that although she had lost her parents, she had gained even more love. As long as Uncle Huang made a call, an army would come to her aid. From now on, she no longer needed to fear Yijianmei.

Yin Bingsong didn’t consider himself a loser. At most, it was a draw. He had been in the underworld for many years and had seen it all. Today was just a minor incident. A few of his brothers had been detained, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. For these street toughs, spending time in detention was a rite of passage. Afterward, he’d treat them to a meal and throw in a few packs of cigarettes. The bond forged through shared hardship was precious.

However, calming his wife and daughter was another matter. For Han Lanlan, today’s events were a humiliating disgrace, comparable to the fall of the Song Dynasty or the Manchu invasion. Her emotions were severely shaken, and she was completely deflated.

Yin Weiran wasn’t much better. As a class committee member and English class representative, being taken to the police station for bullying a classmate, reprimanded, and fined would surely spread like wildfire. She had no idea how she would face her classmates or Feng Xiaoxiao after the New Year’s holiday.

In short, both mother and daughter were like frostbitten eggplants—completely wilted.

Such a humiliating disgrace needed an outlet. Of course, they couldn’t blame themselves. The blame had to fall on Yi Nuan Nuan for causing trouble and on Teacher Ou for meddling.

Han Lanlan spoke up: “I think that new teacher is having an affair with Ma Xiaowei. Otherwise, she wouldn’t dare act so arrogantly.”

Even Yin Bingsong dismissed this malicious speculation. He said, “This isn’t over. I’ll handle it. You two need to lay low and stop causing trouble for me.”

Yin Bingsong didn’t think Ma Xiaowei and Ali were having an affair. What he really wanted was to have an affair with Ling Siyan.

The parents of the other two girls were also unhappy. Jian Shiyu’s mother, Dong Fang, had married Jian Dayong when he was still a welder at the factory. Later, Jian Dayong started his own business, driving a Land Cruiser and carrying a crocodile-skin briefcase, always talking about his engineering projects. It wasn’t clear how much money he made, but he had a mistress on the side, who had even given birth to a half-brother for Jian Shiyu. Fortunately, he didn’t neglect Dong Fang, giving her 20,000 yuan a month for household expenses.

So Dong Fang knew where she stood. In ancient times, she and her daughter would have been relegated to the (cold palace). Therefore, she educated her daughter in a very pragmatic way. She told her daughter to stop hanging out with Yin Weiran. “Her father is destined for the firing squad sooner or later, and her mother is no saint either. You should spend more time with the high-achieving students.”

Jian Shiyu nodded but didn’t really take it in.

As for the bullying incident, Dong Fang didn’t give it much thought. She had been bullied herself back in school.

Mei Xin’s mother, Liu Ping, was the singer who had wowed the audience at tonight’s New Year’s Eve performance. Among the mothers, she was the most striking in appearance. At thirty-seven or thirty-eight, she maintained the figure of a twenty-five-year-old. If you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t notice the wrinkles on her neck or the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. In contrast, her husband, Mei Yuliang, looked much older than his forty-something years. Half of his head was bald, with a few strands of hair desperately trying to cover the barren landscape. Standing at just over 1.6 meters tall, he looked like a dwarf next to the 1.72-meter-tall Liu Ping.

Why Liu Ping had chosen Mei Yuliang was one of the shipyard’s top ten mysteries. In any case, less than six months after their marriage, Mei Xin was born. Girls usually take after their fathers, but Mei Xin’s height and looks didn’t resemble Mei Yuliang—or Liu Ping, for that matter. As for who she did resemble… well, no one dared to gossip.

When the bullying incident came to light, Liu Ping instinctively sided with Han Lanlan and Dong Fang in protecting her child. But on the way home, she lectured her daughter: “We’re porcelain—never clash with earthenware. You’re going abroad to study. Your record must remain spotless.”

The shadow of the last time when the a type of car) was rigged with a bomb incident had passed. Yin Bingsong had asked around and found that none of his enemies were making any big moves, so he let his guard down and returned to his usual routine.

That evening, Yin Bingsong was lying on the sofa in a hotel suite, calling Ling Siyan. After the New Year’s Eve party, he had managed to get Teacher Ling’s phone number. He didn’t like texting and had no idea what WeChat was. He preferred direct phone calls, and once he started, he could talk for hours without pause, boasting about his connections and achievements.

Ling Siyan, being young and shy, didn’t know how to refuse. Once she answered the call, she barely got a word in edgewise. Yin Bingsong dominated the conversation, bragging about how powerful he was, how many big shots he knew, and how Director Zhang from the personnel department was his sworn brother. Getting a official position was just a matter of saying the word.

This struck a chord with Ling Siyan, who asked a few questions. Yin Bingsong said, “Tomorrow, I’ll arrange a dinner and invite Director Zhang. You should come too. Even if nothing comes of it, you’ll at least make an impression.”

Ling Siyan agreed and asked if she needed to prepare a gift. Yin Bingsong said no, just showing up was enough. “As a student’s parent, I can handle this. My daughter, Yin Weiran, is in your hands—she’s practically a hostage now.”

A joke that wasn’t particularly funny made Ling Siyan giggle. Yin Bingsong knew things were on track. This girl was already within his grasp, a sure catch. He said he had other matters to attend to and hung up.

Ling Siyan began rummaging through her closet for clothes. Her roommate, Ali, asked her what had made her so happy. “Is your boyfriend coming to see you?”

“That blockhead doesn’t know how to be romantic,” Ling Siyan said. “The chances of college sweethearts staying together aren’t high anyway. It’s all up to fate.”

Women are inherently gossipy, and Ali was no exception. She was curious about who could keep Ling Siyan on the phone for forty minutes. She pressed for details, and Ling Siyan didn’t hide anything. She said it was a student’s parent—Yin Weiran’s father.

“This guy has some influence. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know him,” Ling Siyan said, tilting her head. As a young woman new to society, she was beginning to experience its hardships and thought taking a shortcut wouldn’t be so bad.

Ali felt something was off. A married middle-aged male parent inviting an unmarried female teacher to dinner? That seemed suspicious. But maybe she was overthinking it. Perhaps Yin Weiran’s mother would be there too.

Suddenly, Ali’s phone rang. Someone had sent a friend request on WeChat. The profile picture and name matched—it was Feng Xiaoxiao’s father, Ma Xiaowei. In the photo, Ma Xiaowei was dressed in a suit, smiling amiably, striking a businesslike pose. It looked like it came straight from a studio’s corporate photography package.

Ma Xiaowei and Yin Bingsong were about the same age, but their approaches were completely different. Ma Xiaowei liked to try new things and embrace new technology. He preferred email and various instant messaging apps over phone calls. After adding Ali, he started by asking a few questions about American slang to break the ice, then chatted with her like a friend.

“If she’s inexperienced, take her to see the world’s wonders. If she’s been through the wringer, take her on a carousel ride.” This pickup line resonated deeply with Ma Xiaowei. Everything he was proud of—his education, professional titles, rank, and wealth—was insignificant compared to true (high society). So he had to take a different approach, using his sincerity, humor, talent, perseverance, and all his excellent qualities to attract her.

The intelligence of a Tsinghua University graduate was no joke. Soon, Ma Xiaowei picked up on a detail from Ali’s casual remarks: this academic overachiever had one weakness—her math grades weren’t great. By Chinese college entrance exam standards, she might not even get into a top-tier university.

This was his chance. Ma Xiaowei regained his confidence. The way to win over a high-class girl was to outshine her intellectually and psychologically. A wealthy heiress like Ali would have countless suitors, so groveling and playing the nice guy wouldn’t work. He had to be the (domineering big bad wolf).

So Ma Xiaowei steered the conversation toward math. But math was dry and boring. If he didn’t handle it well, Ali would yawn and lose interest. What to do? This was no challenge for a talent like Ma Xiaowei. He could make math (interesting) and (mystical). Even a math dunce would enjoy listening.

Ma Xiaowei started with the Fibonacci sequence, explaining its relationship with the golden ratio, the Fibonacci spiral, and its connections to nautilus shells, hurricanes, sunflowers, tree branches, and even DNA spirals. The Fibonacci sequence’s formula was simple yet contained the most fundamental laws of life cycles. It was everywhere.

“Numbers are the language with which God has written the universe. Who said that?” Ma Xiaowei typed, followed by a sly smile. This was a test for Ali.

Ali didn’t know. She had never liked math and had little exposure to related quotes.

“It was Galileo,” Ma Xiaowei typed. “Numbers are the symbols with which God describes nature. Who said that?”

“I’m guessing it’s not Galileo this time,” Ali replied.

“Smart. It was Hegel,” Ma Xiaowei said, thoroughly enjoying the conversation. But Ali only responded with an awkward smile and then went silent.

“I know a small restaurant with great food. I’ll take you there after work tomorrow,” Ma Xiaowei typed, feeling a bit nervous. This was the (trope) of a (domineering CEO) cornering a (Cinderella). It might not work and could even backfire.

Sure enough, Ali replied, “Thanks, but no.”

Ma Xiaowei scratched his head, trying to think of something to salvage the conversation. Ali said she was going to take a shower and go to bed. He could only reply with a “Good night.”

While the (greasy men) were busy chasing women, in the living room of Unit 201, Building 2, Shipyard New Village, a desk lamp burned all night. Yi Leng was focused on his computer screen. This was a machine he had assembled from parts he bought at the computer market during his free time—cheap but high-performing.

Yi Leng had once been a computer expert. During his years of captivity, technology had advanced rapidly, but the fundamentals remained the same. He could still skillfully use the internet to achieve his goals. This computer was connected to the network, and the browser was a newly downloaded Tor. He was currently browsing a website called “Silk Road.”

Silk Road was known as the evil version of eBay. Users could buy anything they wanted on it—legal or illegal, from guns and drugs to Eastern European women.

The currency used for transactions between buyers and sellers wasn’t dollars or euros but something called Bitcoin. This was Yi Leng’s first encounter with it, but his sharp intuition told him Bitcoin was a good thing. The price was a bit high now—one Bitcoin cost twenty dollars—but Yi Leng needed it urgently. He decided to invest, using all his prepaid salary to buy Bitcoin.

Yi Leng wanted to buy himself a legitimate identity—a domestic ID that could withstand scrutiny. It was difficult but not impossible. As long as the price was right, someone would take the job.

The next day, Yi Nuan Nuan came to the shop to hang out and learn self-defense from Uncle Huang. This was a set of moves Yi Leng had created for children and young women to protect themselves in emergencies. It combined (freestyle fighting), (Chinese martial arts), and (wrestling). It was simple to learn and could disable an opponent with a single move.

After learning a few moves, Yi Nuan Nuan was brimming with confidence. She said that even if Yin Weiran’s (fracture) healed, she wouldn’t be afraid of her anymore.

This statement struck a chord with Yi Leng. He suddenly realized why Yin Bingsong had been targeting him and Yumei Restaurant. The grudge stemmed from Yin Weiran’s (fracture).

During the (Juyou Internet Cafe) fire, it was Yi Leng who had pulled Yin Weiran down, causing her (fracture). From a normal person’s perspective, the (life-saving favor) should outweigh the (grudge over the fracture). Besides, it had been an emergency, and it wasn’t intentional. Yi Leng hadn’t expected gratitude, nor had he anticipated making an enemy.

Now everything made sense. Yin Bingsong had been simmering with anger, repeatedly seeking revenge but hitting a wall each time. The New Year’s Eve party had been the final straw, completely humiliating him.

Yin Bingsong was a (vicious) man who held grudges over the smallest slights. Yi Leng considered teaching him a lesson he would never forget.

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